"By order.
"On Monday next will be given a special performance of 'Irene,' the new
work of M. de Voltaire, to be followed by 'Rose and Colas,' an operetta
by M. Sedaine and M. de Monsigny, for the benefit of Mademoiselle
Colombe, of the Comédie Italienne, who will appear in the second piece.
Her Majesty the Queen has graciously promised to be present."
"What has that to do with me, my Captain?" inquired I.
"You are a good-looking fellow," said the officer. "I will get you
powdered and frizzed out a bit, and station you at the door of the Royal
box."
Thus it came to pass that the night of the performance found me in the
theatre, resplendent in full uniform, standing upon a blue carpet, and
surrounded on all sides by flowers and festoons.
While awaiting the Queen's arrival, I overheard a conversation between
M. de Grévey and the manager of the theatre. The latter seemed anxious
concerning the qualifications of Mademoiselle Colombe, who, apparently,
was quite unknown to him, while the other reassured him upon that point,
and conveyed to him Her Majesty's guarantee that a sum equal to the half
of the night's receipts should be paid to him for the use of his
theatre. Evidently, the whole affair had been got up by the Queen.
[Illustration: "I OVERHEARD A CONVERSATION."]
Their dialogue was interrupted by a sudden bustle and commotion, and the
Queen entered so quickly that I had barely time to present arms. With
her was the other young lady whom I had seen at Montreuil.
The performance commenced at once. All the time that 'Irene' was going
on, the Queen laughed and chattered, but as soon as the operetta began,
she was all attention, her example, of course, being followed by
everyone in her box.
Suddenly I heard a woman's voice which thrilled me to the heart, and set
me trembling so that I could scarcely hold my gun. Surely there was but
one voice like that in all the world!
Through the gauze curtain drawn across the tiny window of the box, I got
a glimpse of the performers. It was a little lady who was singing:--
Once a birdie,
Grey as a mouse,
Built for his children
A tiny house.
Why! this charming _Rose_ was just like Pierrette! She had her figure,
her red and blue frock, her white petticoat, her pretty simple manner,
her small shoes with the silver buckles, her red and blue stockings!
"Dear me!" said I to myself, "these actresses must be clever indeed to
be able to make themselves look so much like other folks! Here is this
famous Mademoiselle Colombe, who, no doubt, lives in a fine house, has
several men-servants, and goes about in Paris dressed like a duchess,
and she is exactly like Pierrette! But my poor little girl could not
sing so well, although her voice may be quite as pretty."
I was so fascinated that I could not turn my head away from the glass,
and presently the door of the box struck me in the face. Someone had
opened it, because Her Majesty complained of the heat. I heard her
say:--
"I am perfectly satisfied. My first gentleman-in-waiting may tell
Mademoiselle Colombe that she will not repent having left to me the
management of this affair. Ah! it amuses me so much!"
"There is no doubt, madame," said the Princess de Lamballe, "that your
good deed is a complete success. Everyone is here. See, all the good
townsfolk of Orleans are enchanted with this splendid singer, and the
whole court is ready to applaud her."
She gave the signal for applause, and the audience, who, according to
custom, had hitherto remained silent out of respect for the Queen, gave
full vent to their enthusiasm. From that moment, scarcely a word of
_Rose's_ was allowed to pass without tremendous clapping. The Queen was
delighted.
At the end of the piece the ladies threw their bouquets to _Rose_.
"Where is the real lover?" inquired the Queen of the Duc de Lauzun, who
thereupon left the box, and beckoned to my captain in the corridor.
Again the nervous trembling seized me, for I felt that something--I
could not guess what--was about to happen to me.
My captain bowed respectfully, and conversed in a low tone with M. de
Lauzun. Marie Antoinette was looking at _me_! I leaned against the wall
to keep myself from falling. There were footsteps upon the staircase,
and I saw Michel Sedaine, followed by Grévey and the podgy and pompous
manager; and they were bringing Pierrette, the real Pierrette, _my_
Pierrette, to me--my sister, my wife, my Pierrette of Montreuil!