“Hurry up!” he exclaimed much relieved. “You are to sing the Marseillaise now; the audience is waiting,” and he almost dragged the Frenchman up the few steps, Mitchell standing back to let him pass. But he was hard on his heels a moment later and only stopped in the wings as La Montagne walked out toward the center of the brilliantly lighted stage.
Maynard, who had followed his companions more slowly, came face to face with Marian Van Ness at the head of the stairs.
“Have you seen Evelyn?” she asked anxiously. “I want her to go home with me.”
“I’ll tell her,” he promised and she smiled gratefully at him.
“Do, please; I’ll run and get my cloak, which one of the maids put in our dressing room,” and she disappeared as Maynard hastened down the steps. He had been gone but a second when Mrs. Burnham, assisted by Dr. Hayden, clambered up the staircase and looked helplessly at the busy scene.
“Dear me, where will we find Evelyn?” She turned to address a scene-shifter, but the man passed without paying the slightest attention to her hail.
“Just sit here, Mrs. Burnham,” Hayden guided her to a chair standing against the wall. “I’ll look up the stage manager; he will know where Evelyn is to be found,” and he darted behind some scenery.
Mrs. Burnham listened with interest to the echoing chorus of the Marseillaise, which was being played by the Marine Band and sung by the audience. Suddenly spying a bevy of girls toward the back of the stage she rose and walked in their direction.
Mitchell, observing that La Montagne was singing an encore, turned away just as Hayden appeared at the entrance to the wing and promptly accosted him.
“Have you seen Miss Preston?” he asked as the detective paused by him.