The morning of the second day after that visit of Lavirotte to
O'Donnell, he was in a state of great excitement. That was the day his
fate was to be sealed, as far as the medical certificate went.
Fraser and he had arranged that he should consult one of the most
eminent West End physicians. He had been taking the greatest possible
care of himself for some time. This morning he felt better than ever.
He was determined that nothing should impair his chance of success.
He rose early and had a light breakfast, which was the only meal he
ever took in the tower. Then he descended the tower slowly, and walked
gently along Porter Street.
It was still early; much too early to call on a great West End doctor.
When he got to the end of Porter Street he hailed a hansom, and told
the man to drive to Hyde Park.
When he got there it was about ten o'clock. The day was fine for that
time of year, and he thought a walk up and down in the fresh, clear
air of the Park would brace him, and make him more fit for the
examination he had to undergo.
"I must get my mind quiet," he thought. "I must pretend to myself this
is a matter of no moment. I must not even let my mind dwell upon what
my business is to-day. If I pass the examination I shall have three
days for the excitement to wear off. And, no matter what the result of
the examination is, I mean to sing the part. It is all very well for
Fraser to say I might suffer from stage fright, but no stage fright
could be equal to the anxiety I should now be suffering if I gave way
to it. If I can control myself now, I could control myself then. And
see, I am as calm now as the idlest man that passes me by.
"It would not be fair, it would be villainously unfair, for Fraser not
to let me sing the part after promising it to me. O'Donnell was
promised the second part before the trial of his voice. I know the
first part perfectly, every note of it, and now it would be snatching
the chance of fame from me to make me stand aside because of a
wretched medical certificate."
At last it was time to go; and, almost as though he had passed from
the Park to the great doctor's waiting-room in a dream, he found
himself there, without any clear notion of any circumstances or
thoughts by the way.
He was fortunate this morning, and found the great man disengaged at
the very moment he had appointed.
The doctor was an old, good-natured, flabby, gouty-looking man. He was
cheerful in his manner, and received Lavirotte as though he knew
instinctively there was nothing the matter with him beyond a little
hypochondriasis.
In a perfectly calm and collected manner Lavirotte explained his case,
and told the old physician of the business in which he was engaged,
and the fact that his fitness would be put to the test three days
hence.
"I know," said the doctor, "I know. Your profession is one which at
the outset makes great demand on the nerves." Then he asked him some
questions about these slight seizures, and proceeded to his
examination.
He spent at least half-an-hour over the case, during which time
Lavirotte's pulse did not vary.
Then the old physician sat back in his chair, and looked at his
visitor, still with a pleasant expression of countenance.
"Of course," he said, "men of your profession are naturally very
anxious to fulfil all their engagements, and it is the source of great
pecuniary loss to them when they fail to do so. But you know," he
added, smiling pleasantly, "we must often think of something besides
money. Come, now," he said, "I am not able to give you a complete
opinion of your case to-day. What would the pecuniary loss to you be,
supposing you did not sing?"
"Nothing," said Lavirotte. "I am paid whether I sing or do not sing.
Am I not to sing?"
"I won't say that to-day. Tell the manager. Let me see, this is
Thursday--I would like to have till Saturday morning before finally
deciding."
"Then," said Lavirotte, perfectly unmoved, "you think there is some
likelihood of my not being able to sing?"
"Now, now, now," said the doctor, cheerfully. "Have I not told you I
would like to wait till Saturday before forming an opinion?"
"But my agreement is that I shall have a certificate from you three
days before Saturday. That is to-day."
"Let me see what can be done," said the old man, stroking his face. "I
will give you a letter to the manager saying I would not like to
decide finally until Saturday. But that if this delay would break your
engagement, I shall give you the certificate to-day. You can drive to
the theatre, and if you do not return here within two hours, I shall
assume that all is well, and that I shall see you on Saturday."
To this Lavirotte consented, in the same unmoved way that had
characterised him during the whole interview. He took the note and
drove to the Oberon. He sought Fraser and handed him the letter.
At first the composer looked disconcerted. "You see, Lavirotte," he
said, "there is some doubt."
"Give me the benefit of that doubt till Saturday. That can do no harm.
Eugene is ready to take my part if the decision is against me."
"Very good," said Fraser, reluctantly. "Let us wait till Saturday."
All that day and all Friday Lavirotte preserved an imperturbable calm.
All that day and all Friday Fraser was in a state of feverish anxiety.
"It must be a touch-and-go affair with him," he thought, "if the
doctors cannot say yes at once. The least error on the part of the
doctor might lead to a terrible disaster, and I have risked my
reputation on this opera. If he fainted on the stage, or behind,
there might be a dreadful hitch. One thing I'm determined on, that
O'Donnell shall be dressed and made up for the part, and in the
theatre half-an-hour before the curtain goes up."
There was a full-dress rehearsal on Friday, in which Lavirotte went
through his part with a calmness and certainty he had never displayed
before. Of all the performers, he betrayed the least hesitancy. He
took every note with perfect ease. Even Fraser was surprised, and
O'Donnell congratulated him warmly when the rehearsal was over.
Lavirotte left the theatre soon, and went straight to St. Prisca's
Tower.
"Did not Dominique sing excellently today?" said O'Donnell to Fraser.
"Yes, he did," said Fraser, constrainedly. "But you know, O'Donnell,
there is no trusting the future; and remember I tell you, in the most
impressive way I can, that I may have to call upon you at the last
moment to go on and sing the part. I am aware you know it perfectly,
but I shall want to see you at the theatre not later than eleven
o'clock on Saturday. And again half-an-hour before the curtain goes up
you must be ready in every respect to go on. Mind, in every respect."
When O'Donnell got home that evening, he told Nellie he thought there
was something strange in Lavirotte's manner, and that Fraser seemed
unnaturally anxious about the other's health. He then told her that
Lavirotte had gone through the part admirably that day, and that
everyone noticed an improvement in his style. Even Fraser himself had
to admit this.
"I am to be at the theatre not later than eleven to-morrow, and all
ready to go on half-an-hour before the curtain rises. That is, I must
be dressed and made up at half-past seven. So that you will come into
town with me when I am going in the morning, and wait about somewhere.
I will be with you part of the time, of course, and we will be home
together after the opera. We can get whatever we want in some
restaurant."
"And what about the boy?"
"Oh, as we arranged," said Eugene, "he is to remain here. I'm sure
Bridget will take care of him, and put him to bed at the usual time.
As you know, Nellie, I should be very sorry that Lavirotte's health
prevented him; but still, suppose at the last moment he did not sing,
would it not be a glorious thing if I got a chance and succeeded?"