Linval promised him, and they returned to us to the saloon, where they waited for us to go to the theatre. Linval's wound, which, as I have said, was very slight, did not prevent his joining the company, and being witness to a stage adventure, no less original than ridiculous.

Persuaded that my readers will be glad to attend us to the theatre, while we wait for my mother's answer, which cannot be much longer delayed, I intreat them to pass over with me to the fifteenth chapter.

CHAPTER XV.

The Theatre-An adventure behind the scenes -Sans-Chagrin continues his history.

AS this was the first time, since our arrival at Lyons, that we appeared in public, Linval, Sans-Chagrin and I took care to dress ourselves in such a manner as would destroy every resemblance to the descriptions which might have been given of our persons for the purpose of arresting us, and completely baffle the observation of those who might carry them. Without the least apprehension, therefore, we entered the box which Franville had taken for our company A new piece that was to be represented drew an immense crowd of spectators, who, like ourselves, were far from expecting that

the first piece, which was a drama of three acts, would make us laugh much more than the new one, which was announced as being extremely comical and lively, and which, in truth, was so.

So it

The moment for raising the curtain arrived, and the performance began. The play was called the English Orphan; a drama too interesting for us to imagine it possible that it would, as it did, excite the most immoderate laughter. turned out, however. It happened thus: The actor, who was to perform the principal character, was not without merit; but he had the misfortune to play all his parts, in tragedy particularly, like a wild enthusiast. He entered so entirely and exactly into the passion of the character, and so strongly identified himself with the personage he was representing, that in going off the stage he seldom knew his dearest friends and most intimate companions. He neither saw, nor heard, nor attended to any one; and without at

all suffering the agitation of his feelings to abate, he waited for the moment of reappearance, and gave himself up, anew, to the violent passions which belonged to the character appropriated to him. His brother actors had, upon this subject, made many representations to him, which were the more necessary now, because on the first performance of the present piece, which was this day to be represented for the fourth time, they had with difficulty found a child who would be hired for the scene in the third act, in which THOMAS FRINCK returns in triumph, carrying in his arms his little son, who had been taken from him by kidnappers. The actor of whom I speak had, in fact, hugged the child with such violent fondness, that he made it cry aloud very heartily, so that in the representations which had preceded that of the day we attended it, the effect of the catastrophe was destroyed. child, however, was found to perform on the day of which I speak, and the actor, assured of finding him in the proper

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place, at the moment that he would have to take him in his arms, had commenced his part as usual.

One of his fellow actors, the droll of the troop---a knowing one, who in the fullness of his friendship, had endeavoured to correct, by kind expostulations, the defects of our actor, and above all that of which I speak respecting the handling of children, seeing that it was impossible to persuade the man that the denouement of the piece had failed through his means, although he was the most afflicted with it, bid him take courage, for that he might be assured of a grand effect this time, and then contrived to play him the following trick.

There belonged to the troop a wardrobe-keeper, a man very clever at his business, but such a mere dwarf in stature, that he was always obliged to mount a chair or a table to dress the actors. disproportionately large head, enveloped

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