There were stamps and calls for the tawdry curtain to rise, when a
gentleman entered, sauntered up to a front seat, took up a bill and
began to read it--a tall, middle-aged, rather distinguished-looking man,
black and bearded, with piercing eyes, superfine clothes, and a general
aristocratic air about him.
People paused to look again at him--for he was a stranger there--but
nobody recognized him, and Mr. Carl Walraven read his bill undisturbed.
The play was "Fanchon the Cricket," and the bill announced, in very
big capitals, that the part of Fanchon was to be played by that
"distinguished and beautiful young English actress, Miss Mollie Dane."
Mr. Walraven saw no more; he sat holding the strip of paper before
him, and staring at the one name as if the fat letters fascinated
him--"Fanchon, Miss Mollie Dane."
A shrill-voiced bell tinkled, and the drop-curtain went up, and the
household of Father Barbeaud was revealed. There was a general settling
into seats, hats flew off, the noises ceased, and the play began.
A moment or two, and, in rags and tatters, hair streaming, and feet
bare, on the stage bounded Fanchon, the Cricket.
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