“Any trouble for to-night?” Sardou asked Montigny.
“Oh, nothing,” he answered. “It is that little Sarah Bernhardt who has cleared off to Spain!”
“That girl from the Français who boxed Nathalie’s ears?”
“Yes.”
“She’s rather amusing.”
“Yes, but not for her managers,” remarked Montigny, continuing immediately afterwards the conversation which had been interrupted.
This is exactly as Victorien Sardou related the incident.
On arriving at Marseilles, Caroline went to get information about the journey. The result was that we embarked on an abominable trading boat, a dirty coaster smelling of oil and stale fish, a perfect horror.
I had never been on the sea, so I fancied that all the boats were like this and that it was no good complaining. After six days of rough sea we landed at Alicante. Oh, that landing, how well I remember it! I had to jump from boat to boat, from plank to plank, with the risk of falling into the water a hundred times over, for I am naturally inclined to dizziness and the little bridges without any rails, rope, or anything, thrown across from one boat to another and bending under my light weight, seemed to me like mere ropes stretched across space.
Exhausted with fatigue and hunger I went to the first hotel recommended to us at Alicante. Oh, what a hotel it was! The house itself was built of stone with low arcades. Rooms on the first floor were given to me, and certainly the owners of it had never had two ladies in their house before. The bedroom was large, but with a low ceiling. By way of decoration there were enormous real fish bones arranged in garlands caught up by the heads of fish. By half shutting one’s eyes this decoration might be taken for delicate sculpture of ancient times.