THE CASTLE OF LIFE
It seemed to Esther Crippen that she had been sitting in the wings of
the theater every evening for half her lifetime, although it had been
only a week since Polly's initial appearance as the Fairy of the Woods
in the dramatization of the ancient legend "The Castle of Life."
At first she had spent every moment after Polly's departure from the
dressing room in peering out from some inconspicuous corner at whatever
action was taking place upon the stage. Now, however, the play and
even the actors themselves had become a comparatively old story. Her
interest centered itself chiefly in Polly--in Polly and the odd human
characters that she saw everywhere about her. Indeed, except for her
nervousness and care of her friend, this week had been almost as
absorbing to Esther Crippen as to the other girl. For after the first
two nights she had lost her fear that Polly might make an absolute
failure of her part, and also the impression that either of them might
be insulted or unkindly treated by the men and women about them.
People had been rough perhaps, but thoroughly business-like. And if
Polly were told to hurry, or to move on, or corrected for some mistake
in her work, it was all done in so impersonal a fashion that both girls
had learned valuable lessons from the experience. Esther had been
amazed at the spirit in which Polly had accepted the discipline and
hard work. Perhaps, after all, she had been making a mountain out of a
mole hill and this disobedience on Polly's part, wrong though it
certainly was, might not result in anything so disastrous as she had at
first feared.
And there was no doubt that Polly was achieving a real success, one
that surprised her and every one else. Her part was only a small one,
with but few words to speak; otherwise she could never have managed it
with no previous experience and so little time for rehearsing.
Nevertheless she had made one of those sudden yet conspicuous triumphs
that are so frequent in stage life. Sometimes it may happen with a
girl playing the part of a maid, sometimes with a man who has not half
a dozen sentences to recite. It is the quality in the acting that
counts. And the manager in choosing Polly for the special rôle he had
desired had chosen wisely. For it was not so much the girl's method of
playing that had won sympathy and applause, as her manner and
appearance.
And curiously enough, though Polly was frightened the first night of
the performance, she was not so much so as on that evening of the Camp
Fire play the previous year, before an audience of friends.
Polly felt herself at the heart of her first great adventure. The play
itself, the other actors and actresses, the strangeness of her
surroundings, all occupied her to the forgetting of her own
individuality. It seemed as though she were only living out a kind of
dream. Nothing was real, nothing was actual about her. The audience
did not terrify her, nor the lights, nor the darkness, nor the queer
smell of dust and paint and artificiality, that is a necessary part of
the background of stage life.
Perhaps the girl had found her element. For there is for each one of
us a place in this world, some niche into which one really fits. And
though this place may seem crowded, or ugly, or undesirable to other
people, if it should be our own, it holds a feeling of comfort and of
possession that no other spot can.
But Polly had not been thinking of niches or elements or anything of
the kind either tonight or during the week past. All of her being was
too deeply absorbed in the interest of the play and the actors and her
own little part.
At the present moment she was in hiding behind a piece of scenery,
eagerly awaiting the cue for her own entrance; yet she was as keenly
intent upon each detail of the acting taking place upon the stage as if
tonight it were a first experience.
The players happened to be the two persons who had been kindest and
most helpful to her in the company. And one of them one was the
brown-eyed girl whose lead she had followed on the day of her own
engagement. Polly had been glad to make the discovery later that this
same girl had been engaged to play the part of Grazioso's grandmother
in "The Castle of Life." The other actor was the star, a young man of
about twenty-six or seven, who was impersonating Grazioso, the hero of
the fairy story.
The stage was in semi-darkness, while the grandmother related to the
boy the tale of her first meeting with the fairies. A small, shabby
room revealed a low fire burning in the grate. In an armchair sat the
old woman, while her grandson lay on the floor at her feet with his
head resting upon his hand.
"There are two fairies," said the grandmother, "two great fairies--the
Fairy of the Water and the Fairy of the Woods. Ten years ago I had
gone out at daybreak to catch the crabs asleep in the sand, when I saw
a halcyon flying gently towards the shore. The halcyon is a sacred
bird, so I never stirred for fear I should scare it away. And at the
same time from a cleft in the mountain I saw a beautiful green adder
appear and come gliding along the sands toward the bird. When they
were near each other the adder twined itself around the neck of the
halcyon as if it were embracing it tenderly. Then I saw a great black
cat, who could be nothing else than a magician, hiding itself behind a
rock close to me. And scarcely had the halcyon and adder embraced than
the cat sprang on the innocent pair. This was my time to act. I
seized him in spite of his struggles and with the knife I used for
opening oysters I cut off the monster's head, paws and tail. And as
soon as I had thrown the creature's body into the sea, before me stood
two beautiful ladies, one with a crown of white feathers and the other
with a scarf made of snake's skins. They were, as I have told you, the
Fairy of the Water and the Fairy of the Woods."
With these words, Polly moved a few steps nearer the place set for her
entrance. On the opposite side she could see the other girl who
impersonated the water fairy, also ready to make her entrance. Tonight
was New Year's eve and the house was unusually crowded.
But the grandmother was continuing her speech.
"Enchanted by a wicked Jinn, they were obliged to remain bird and snake
until some hand should restore them to liberty. To me they owed
freedom and power. 'Ask what thou wilt,' they said, 'and thy wishes
shall be fulfilled."
"I thought how I was old and had too hard a life to wish for it over
again. But the day would come when nothing would be too good for thee,
my child." The old woman leaned over, stroking her grandson's dark
hair. "The Fairy of the Woods gave me a scale from the snake's skin
and the Fairy of the Water a small white feather from her crown. They
are hidden in a box under some rags. Open the box and thou wilt find
the scale and the feather."
The boy then crossed the stage and a moment later handed the box to the
old woman, who appeared too ill to leave her chair.
After bending over and listening to her instructions, he stepped
forward nearer the footlights. There in the center of the room was a
bowl of water in which he placed the feather and the scale.
"Wish for thyself anything thou desirest, fortune, greatness, wit,
power," murmurs the old woman. "But embrace me first, as I feel that I
am dying."
But Grazioso did not approach either to embrace or ask the old woman's
blessing.
"I wish my grandmother to live forever!" he cried. "Appear, Fairy of
the Woods. Appear, Fairy of the Water!"
And now in perfect silence Polly O'Neill made her entrance. She moved
very slowly forward, so slim and young and tall, with such big,
dark-blue eyes, and such slender, elfish grace that she did not look
like a real flesh-and-blood girl.
The audience stirred, and a little breath of appreciation moved through
it, which Polly was almost learning to expect.
She wore her own black hair unbound and hanging loose below her
shoulders. It was made blacker by the wreath of leaves that encircled
her head. She was dressed in an olive-green gown of some soft,
clinging material and a scarf of snake's skin was fastened over her
shoulder.
The Fairy of the Water followed Polly. Her gown was white with a blue
scarf, and she was small and blonde. She was a pretty girl, but
somehow there was no suggestion of the fairy about her. One could see
the same type of girl any time, standing behind a counter in a shop, or
dancing at a party of young people.
Polly's grace and her ardent, unconventional temperament made it easy
to understand why the attention should be focused upon her during this
single scene. Besides, she had one long speech to deliver.
This was the moment when the girl felt her only real nervousness. For
always there was the uncertainty as to whether her voice would be
strong and full enough to be heard throughout the theater. Tonight and
for the first time she hesitated for a second. Yet no one noticed it,
except the actors near her and Esther, who had crept forth, for a
closer view in spite of the stage regulations.
"Have you forgotten your lines, child?" the leading man whispered so
quietly that no one could overhear.
But Polly only smiled, with a faint shake of her graceful head.
"Here we are, my child," she began the next instant, speaking in clear,
girlish tones that showed nothing of indecision or embarrassment.
"We have heard what you said and your wish does you credit. We can
prolong your grandmother's life for some time. But to make her live
forever you must find The Castle of Life."
"Madam," replied Grazioso, "I will start at once."
"It is four long days' journey from here," the Fairy of the Woods
continued. "If you can accomplish each of these four days' journey
without turning out of your road and if, on arriving at the castle, you
can answer the three questions that an invisible voice will ask you,
you will receive there all that you desire. For there the fountain of
immortality will be found."
Then slowly the great stage curtain descended. And this was the end of
Polly's part in the performance, though one more ordeal was to follow.
And though she welcomed this, Polly also dreaded it more than anything
else. Always a curtain call came at the close of this scene, when she
and the Fairy of the Water, each holding a hand of Grazioso's, must
step forth to the footlights and for an instant face the audience,
smiling their thanks for the applause.
But Polly had never been able to summon a smile, for at this moment she
had always become self-conscious. The glamour and the excitement of
the theater suddenly deserted her and she felt not like a fairy or
anything fantastic, but only like Polly O'Neill, a very untrained and
frightened girl who was deceiving her family and friends to have this
first taste of stage life, and who might suffer almost any kind of
consequences: imprisonment in some boarding school, Polly feared, where
she might never again be allowed any liberty or an equal imprisonment
in Woodford, with no mention of the theater made in her presence as
long as she lived. For Polly could not determine to what lengths her
mother's anger and disapproval of her conduct might lead her. And she
did mean to make her confession and face the results as soon as her two
weeks' engagement was over.
Therefore tonight she kept an even tighter clasp on Grazioso's hand
than usual, her knees were shaking so absurdly. And all the faces in
the audience were swimming before her, as though they had no features
but eyes. Then suddenly the girl grew rigid with surprise, uncertainty
and fear.
In the second row just under the footlights she had discovered a face
that was strangely familiar. And yet could it be possible that this
person of all others should be here in New York City and in the theater
tonight, instead of in the village of Woodford?