"Mr. O'Donnell," said Fraser, "I hope you will not forget us now that
you have once come. My wife is out, but I am sure she will be
delighted to meet Mrs. O'Donnell. Remember, you are to bring your wife
with you, too, when you come next time."
These were the composer's last words as he stood at the hall door,
bidding good-bye to Lavirotte and Eugene.
When Mrs. Fraser returned, he said to her in his enthusiastic way: "My
dear Harriet, you have missed a treat. Lavirotte's friend, O'Donnell,
has been here. He has got a lovely voice, and sings exquisitely. He
came to know if I would give him the second tenor part. I promised
before I heard him sing, and now, by gad, Harriet, I'm in a deuce of a
mess."
"Why? You say he has a good voice, and sings well."
"Yes, yes. But, you see, I have promised the leading part to
Lavirotte. Now Lavirotte's voice is not to be compared with
O'Donnell's, and, by gad, I don't know how to get out of the fix."
"If," said Mrs. Fraser, "this new man is better for the part, why not
give him the part?"
"But you see, they are bosom friends. They have been friends for
years, been at the _Scala_ together, and so on. Why, while they were
here there was very near being a scene between them. In fact there was
a scene, in which Lavirotte did something that enraged O'Donnell, and
O'Donnell said something that made Lavirotte grovel. I don't know what
it was about, of course, but it looked very ugly while it lasted. I
should not be at all surprised if Lavirotte is a bit jealous of
O'Donnell's voice. I'm sure I don't know what to do. It would be a
pity to throw away a voice like O'Donnell's in the second part; and
how am I to get rid of Lavirotte?"
"Then you are resolved to produce the opera soon?"
"Oh, yes, if I can put O'Donnell in the leading part. You see, I was
only half satisfied with Lavirotte. He is so hard, unsympathetic,
metallic. I don't know how to manage it at all. You see, Harriet, I
want to make a success with this 'Maid of Athens.' I am sure if
O'Donnell sang it would be a success."
"But can he not make a success in the second part?"
"No, no," cried Fraser, excitedly "That would be impossible. Besides,
the public would not stand it. They would guy the thing if they found
the better man in the inferior part. Oh, what a misfortune I ever
promised Lavirotte!"
"Surely there is some way or other out of it," said Mrs. Fraser.
"I can't see it, Harriet. I am in despair. It is the best chance there
has been in London for years. At least I think so. Of course you can
never tell really until you have tested the thing practically in the
theatre, with the lights up and your audience in front. But I'm game
to put down the last penny I have in the world, and my reputation,
that O'Donnell could do the trick."
"I cannot believe, Edward," said Mrs. Fraser hopefully, "that there is
not some way of managing the matter. Could not Mr. Lavirotte
understudy the leading part?"
"Eh? Say that again, little woman," said the composer, sitting down to
the piano and improvising a fantasia. He always quieted his mind in
this way. "There may be something in what you say, Harriet. An
understudy! But would Lavirotte consent? You know we couldn't ask him
to sing in any other but the leading part, once it was offered to him.
And then, to take a practical view of it, even if he would consent to
understudy, he would be eating his head off the whole time. The
management wouldn't get the least value for their money. In any case,
I don't think Lavirotte would consent. You know, those new men are
always dying to get an 'appearance,' and I'm sure Lavirotte would
rather take a situation down a coal mine than cool his heels in the
wings, while O'Donnell had the boards."
"Well, but if you say there is a great chance of O'Donnell making a
success of the opera, it would be a thousand pities you lost that
chance because of any hasty promise you made to Lavirotte."
"I don't think Lavirotte has a particularly sweet temper; and, to tell
you the truth, there is something in the man's eye which I do not
like--something which makes me distrust him. I asked him to-day to
give O'Donnell a lead, and he started 'Good-bye, Sweetheart,' and, by
gad, I thought for a minute that O'Donnell would throttle him."
"It seems to me," said the little woman, "that you are somewhat
unfortunate in having come across this pair. A moment ago you appeared
to think there was something dangerous about Lavirotte, and now you
say that O'Donnell looked as if he wanted to do something dreadful to
the other."
"Throttle him, my dear. Throttle him was the word I used. A capital
word, but not a woman's word, I own."
"But surely it would be no harm for you to try if Lavirotte would
consent to understudy, if you are certain that the difference between
the two men is so great. Aren't they both very anxious to get
engagements? and don't both want to earn money?"
"Yes, but everyone wants to earn money, and I have no doubt that
Lavirotte would rather take two guineas a week and sing the part than
ten for walking about. Stop," cried the composer. "Something might be
done with that."
"Pray, what is _that?_ I have not the gift of second sight."
The composer rose from the piano, approached his wife, put his arm
round her, kissed her, and said: "You're not half as stupid as you
look, Harriet. You sometimes get hold of a capital idea. But you
require the great male intellect"--tapping his forehead--"to shape it
for you. Lavirotte, when he was here, nearly fainted. I have heard him
complain before of certain attacks of this kind which he is subject
to. You see, it would never do to have a man in such a position as
first tenor, if that man were liable to faint. Why, the very
excitement of a first night sometimes knocks over strong men who have
had years of experience. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll throw myself
on Lavirotte's generosity, and say that what I saw here to-day has so
disquieted me that, etc. You understand. I'll put it as nicely as I
can. It isn't very easy to put such a thing nicely, but I shall do my
best."
Here the matter dropped between husband and wife.
That evening Fraser wrote a note to Lavirotte, asking him to call next
day.
In the gentlest and most considerate way, Fraser explained to
Lavirotte that a first night of a new piece was most trying on the
singers, and that to ensure success, it was essential all taking
prominent parts in it should be, as near as possible, in perfect
health.
"I noticed here yesterday," said the composer, "that you almost
fainted under the excitement of something which occurred between you
and O'Donnell. I think, too, I heard you say before you have now and
then been seized with physical weakness. We have not spoken of
business terms in connection with the opera. Of course you know I am
not finding the money. But I shall make all the engagements. Now, if
you like I'll give you your engagement at once, ten pounds a week for
the run, on one condition."
"What is that?" cried Lavirotte eagerly.
"That you allow some other man to create the part and sing until you
have become so accustomed to it that there will be no fear of your
suffering from this little ailment, whatever it is."
Lavirotte's lips got suddenly dry. He drew them backward over his
teeth, and breathed a few hard breaths. "You mean," said he, in a low
voice, "to let O'Donnell create the part?"
"I have said nothing to him about it, as yet, nor should I say
anything to him without first speaking to you. I gave you my word you
were to create the part if the opera was produced. After seeing what
occurred yesterday, and knowing the great excitement of a first night,
I would rather have the opera in that drawer than risk it if there
were the least chance of a breakdown."
"And you think," said Lavirotte, "that I could consent to take the
money, when my health did not allow me to earn it?"
"Now, my dear Lavirotte, you must not be offended where no offence is
meant. The first night is what I dread. You shall understudy the part,
or, rather, the part shall be yours, and O'Donnell, the understudy,
run on at the last moment. Stop, I have it. I shall engage you to
create the part. I shall engage O'Donnell if he will consent to
understudy the part. We shall go on rehearsing on these lines, and if,
three days before the first night, a first-class medical man says you
are fit to go on, you shall go on. This need not be embodied in the
agreement. We can keep our words, as men of honour, and we can keep
this arrangement secret. Even O'Donnell shall not know; and his salary
shall be six guineas a week, whether he sings or not. Come, you can't
ask me to do more than that. O'Donnell has a wife and child to keep."
"Damn his wife and child," thought Lavirotte.
Fraser was firm, and although it took an hour to get Lavirotte to
consent, he at length consented. And there and then the agreement was
drawn up and signed.
"Now," thought Fraser, "it's neck or nothing with me. I am sure it
would be dangerous to let him go on the first night, and if I can only
secure O'Donnell, 'The Maid of Athens' will be the foundation of my
fortune."
When Lavirotte got back to the tower, he threw himself, in a rage, on
his bed. "This thing may kill me," he said, "but I'll sing the part as
sure as heaven is above and hell beneath. Damn O'Donnell, his wife,
and child."