"It is not a question of price!" was the smiling answer. "If we had the smallest space, we could have disposed of it a hundred times over to-day."
"Then take me on the stage."
"Oh, it is no use to speak of that--no matter who might come--no one is allowed there."
"Then announce me to the burgomaster--I will give you my card."
"I am very sorry, but I have no admittance to the stage during the performance. In the long intermission at twelve o'clock you might be announced, but not before."
The countess' heart throbbed faster and faster. She could hear the notes of the music, she fancied she could distinguish the different voices, yet she was not permitted to enter. Now came the shouts of "Hosanna!"--yes, distinctly--that was the entry into Jerusalem, those were the exulting throngs who attended him. If she could only look through a chink--! Now, now it was still--then a voice--oh! she would recognize those tones among thousands. A draught of air bore them to her through the cracks in the walls. Yes, that was he; a tremor ran through every limb--he was speaking.
The world hung on his lips, joy was in every eye, comfort in every heart--within was salvation and she must stand without and could not go to her own husband. But he was not her husband, that had been her own wish. Now it was granted!
The "foolish virgin" outside the door burst into tears like a child.
The man who had just refused her request so coldly, pitied her: "If I only knew how to help you, I would do so gladly," he said thoughtfully. "I'll tell you! If it is so important come during the intermission, but on foot, without attracting attention, to the rear entrance of the stage--then I'll try to smuggle you in, even if it is only into the passage for the chorus!"
"Oh, sir, I thank you!" said the countess with the look which a lost soul might give to the angel who opened the gates of Paradise.