No further opposition was attempted, and Walter considered himself bound to escort his sister.
On the following Wednesday, after luncheon, Walter and Julia set off for the place of amusement in high spirits. Julia was looking specially bright and attractive; and Walter, though he did not feel fully satisfied in going, yet threw himself now into the excitement with all his might, partly for his sister’s sake, and partly to drown any murmurs of conscience which he was not prepared to listen to. So with a merry ringing laugh they set off, and arrived at the park on the best terms with themselves and with each other. Large numbers of people had already assembled, and the place was glowing with banners and glittering devices, and resounding with the vigorous music of a brass band. Signor Telitetti was to be the special attraction, but there were many other objects of interest and excitement forming part of the entertainment. Among these were a small theatre, and a tent in which were various enticing-looking articles to be raffled for. The noble park, with its groups of trees of different species, its sloping sward, and a lake in the centre well stocked with water-fowl of various kinds, gave ample room and amusement to the motley multitude which had gathered for the show.
Walter and his sister, having left their horses at a neighbouring stable, paid their money at the gate, strolled into the park, and made their way amongst the crowds bent like themselves on getting as large a draught of excitement as the occasion would afford. As they came near the tent, they encountered Gregson and Saunders arm in arm. The young men took off their hats with an exaggerated show of politeness, and Saunders said half out loud as they passed on, “Not going in just at present for the raffle, I suppose.” Walter coloured, but did not reply; but he began to feel a hearty dislike to the whole thing, and would have gladly beat a hasty retreat had he been alone. But now a more than ordinarily vehement flourish of music warned the spectators that Signor Telitetti was about to commence his athletic wonders. All crowded up to the place of exhibition, which was a broad open space in the very midst of the park, where a wooden structure had been erected, representing some grand palace or temple in Eastern style, and being gorgeously and profusely painted and gilded. In front of this were various smaller wooden erections, set up for the purpose of exhibiting the powers of the acrobat; while from the highest part of the sham palace a stout rope was led along at a considerable height from the ground to a neighbouring tree, from that tree to a second, and then down to the ground by a rapid incline.
All eyes were on the signor as he took his stand in front of the wooden building. Walter and his sister had pressed nearly to the edge of the crowd, and gazed with the deepest interest on the performer, who was habited in the tight-fitting garment usually worn by persons of his calling, his head, however, being enveloped in a strangely made, many-coloured cap, which very much concealed his features; indeed it looked as if he were wearing a sort of mask, and that his eyes alone were unhidden. Had Walter or his sister seen him anywhere before? Walter was not sure, and yet he had an impression that there was something about the man familiar to him, but perhaps it was only the general similarity to others dressed for exhibitions of the like kind. He was surprised, however, and startled to find his sister, as she leaned her full weight on his arm, trembling violently. It might have been merely excitement; but the announcement that the signor’s feats were about to commence prevented his asking his sister the cause of her agitation. And now all sorts of strange contortions, unnatural postures, and perverse displays of muscular eccentricity were gone through by the exhibitor, much to the satisfaction of the applauding crowd. As to Walter, somehow or other the whole thing seemed full of emptiness. Why was it so? Surely because, to use the forcible language of Chalmers, “the expulsive power of a superior affection” had begun to make such exhibitions distasteful to him. However, he had not much time for reflection. The acrobat was now coming to his performances on the rope. Hitherto his exertions and feats had been attended simply with difficulty; now they were to be attended with danger, and were therefore looked upon by the multitude with thrilling and breathless interest. Springing upon the rope, pole in hand, he made his way rapidly up the sloping cord, then from one tree to another, and then high in mid-air to the summit of the wooden palace or temple. Vehement bursts of applause rewarded him for this feat accomplished. And now he came down from his height on his return journey, which he accomplished with perfect ease. Again he was in the act of ascending, when, looking round for a moment on the crowd below him, his eye fell on Walter and his sister. Then a change appeared to come over him,—he seemed to have lost his steadiness and self-possession. Nevertheless he continued his upward course. But when he had gained the part of the rope which sloped upwards to the temple, and was about to exhibit some daring feat of agility, twice did he make the effort unsuccessfully, and then, in a third violent attempt, missed his foothold, and fell to the ground amongst the terror-stricken spectators.
Frightful then were the excitement and the cries of the horrified multitude. Some rushed to raise the poor fallen man, while the police struggled to keep back the surging crowd. Drawn on by a strange and terrible fascination, Walter and his sister pressed forward to where the unhappy acrobat lay bleeding and insensible. His features were now more plainly visible,—there could be no mistake about him. Signor Telitetti was none other than Orlando Vivian.
“We must take him to the hospital, poor fellow, as quickly as possible,” said one of the policemen. A stretcher was accordingly brought, and the poor shattered player was carried speedily forth from the scene of his transitory triumphs.
“And what shall we do?” asked Walter in a disturbed whisper to his sister.
“Oh, take me home! take me home!” she cried; “I can’t bear it.”
“But ought we not to go and look after him?” asked her brother.
“Take me home! take me home!” was all her cry, and the horses were soon brought and mounted; while the vast crowd melted gradually away, subdued, and exchanging half-whispered words of surprise and dismay.