The Double Act

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 151, 28 June 1929, Page 16

The Double Act

A Romance of the Theatre,

CHAPTER XXVIII. The Missing Emeralds. At 7 o'clock that evening the rehearsal was still in full swing. Harassed and nervous actors and actresses went \\easily through their lines in a glare of shifting lights. Atkinson barked like. a frenzied watchdog as the actors stumbled through lines thev had known perfectly the day before. Antony, seated back in the shadowy stalls, held his head. "Mr. Atkinson, can't 1 have a softer light in that scene where I break down and cry? Honestly, a person can't expect to feel like weeping under a perfect avalanche of electricity!" This from the ingenue. "Jones!" sailed Atkinson to the light man in tho flies. "Cut down that spot to half, will you?" "Mr. Atkinson, am I expected to knock throe times or twice in this scene ? Mr. Carson changed it last rehearsal. I don't know where I am now." This from the elderly actor. "What about it, Carson?" Atkinson turned to the shadows behind him where Antony'sat despairing of ever seeing the play into'shape. "Oh, I don't know. What's it matter?" he responded. "Twice, if you like." In the midst of this Dolores slipped quietly into the seat besides the director. "I'm so sorry, but like a fool I made an engagement to dine to-night with the Countess of Burford. I can't get out of it, I'm afraid. Can you let mo go for a couple of hours?" she murmured. "My understudy can read my lines while I am gone." "Oh, Lord!" grumbled. Atkinson. "I _ suppose you'll have to go. Just wait and .do that bit at tho end of this act, will you? And get back by ten if you possibly can. This looks like going on till two;o'clock to-morrow morning." "Yes, I can excuse, myself .after dinner," said Dolores. "The dear Countess always understands that professional engagements come first. But I really couldn't. leave her • with a gap in her dinner table." Dolores slipped back into the wings as quietly as she had come. ."I've got to go to a dinner party at tho Countess of Bur ford's," she complained to the envious ingenue. "It's a frightful bore, bnt one has to do these things occasionally. Francoiso is down in tho dressing room with my clothes and jewels. I'm dashing down to rush into them in a minute." The little ingenue, who had never dined with a countess, nodded wide-eyed and spread the news. Dolores beckoned to Rosemary, where she stood idly waiting for her next cue. "I say, are you busy for a moment?" she asked sweetly, so sweetly that Rosemary looked at her in surprise. "Do you mind just running down to my dressing room and telling my maid to come up hero? I must give her directions about getting my things ready." Rosemary nodded, and went off. Several of the company saw her go, and had lieard Dolores speak of her jewels.

Dolores went on for the short moment on the stage for which she. had waited, and, as she came off again, looked about for her maid.

"Didn't that youngster call Francoise," she inquired irritably. "Never mind, I'll go down myself. If Francoise comes up y send her back down again." Rosemary arrived back on the stage shortly after Francoise had been intercepted and sent* back by the interested actors. They grumbled at being obliged to rehearse with Dolores' understudy, but most of them felt a reflected glory in the fact that one of their number was dining 'with a countess. Rosemary went on to rehearse her next scene.

. th© middle of it Dolores appeared in a grass green satin dressing gown and with dishevelled hair. She crossed the stage, ignoring the other actors and confronted the astonished Rosemary. Look here, boy, did you go into my dressing room when you went to call my maid?" she demanded.

"No, why?" returned Rosemary. The rehearsal had, of course, stopped dead The actors stood about and looked at the ragged youngster and realised anew that they knew nothing about his antecedents.

"Because my emerald necklace has stolen," said Dolores, dramatically. Oil Lord," groaned. Atkinson, as he pulled himself wearily out of his seat in the stalls. "What did she want to bring emerald necklaceg to a, rehearsal for, anyway! It only wanted that." He approached the footlights where stage-hands and actors stood . Whatever made you leave it down £, y0U „» , dressin S room unguarded, polonw? he inquired. "This place is full of people." "The necklace was very well guarded try my maid," returned Dolores with < except for the one moment that this boy, having called my maid lingered down there."

Well, what did she want to go away and leave it in an unlocked dressing room for?" said Atkinson. "Probably because she thought, as I Jiave always believed before, that the people of the stage are ladies and gentlemen, 6aid Dolores, drawing herself up. I have never before been associated xa the profession with a thief!" Rosemary had been struck dum'b bv the suddenness of the attack. At this direct accusation she lifted her head to reply, when a voice from the back of the Stalls interrupted her. "One moment," said Antony Carson, striding down the aisle and leaping over the footlights at the side of the stage, it 13 extremely dangerous to make allegations of that kinvi unless one is able to prove them." put his arm about her shoulders. He took his place by Rosemary, and . •p rov& them!" cried Dolores harshly. Tvhat proof does one need! You pick up a little pickpocket from the streets and introduce him among us. Naturally one thing is sure co be found missing." Enough of that!" said Antony sternly. "You will apologise to young Gail shortly. Your jewels are in your dressing room still, of course. Your maid has mislaid them. Where is she?" I'rancoise was discovered in tears at the back of the stage. "Have you complete confidence in her?" asked Antony of Dolores. "Of course I have," returned the woman. "Francoise has been with me— ten years." As a matter of fact Francoise had been with Dolores Monclair for twentyfive years, but Dolores did not like the inference a statement of that kind might contain as to her age. Francoise lifted brimming eyes to her mistress at the nlnU-.mi'iil, but no prevarication surprised her; she knew her mistress too well,

By MARION TOMLINSON j

(Author of "THE BELOVED SINNER," etc.) J

"Tell us exactly what happened," demanded Antony, who had taken complete control of the situation.

"This boy come down and tap on the door. lie say my mistress wish me to come. I go at once to her and the boy remains behind. When I come back my mistress has come down by another way. Sho say to me, 'Where are my jewels, Franchise? Have you them with you?' I say no. We look. They arc gone!" Francoiso burst afresh into wee,ping. "Von haven't looked thoroughly,"said Antony. "Go back and give the room a thorough turn out. The necklaco must have fallen down behind something. Co look for it, and let us get on with this rehearsal." "Your manner is very abrupt, Mr. Carson," said Dolores angrily. "I mean it to be so," returned Antony shortly. "Your leaving a valuable necklace about in a dressing room was inexcusable in the first place, and I cannot 1 tell you the contempt I feel for your seizing upon its disappearance as an opportunity to accuse this boy of theft. Ho is incapable of theft, or of anything underhanded." "Oh, is he?" cried Dolores defiantly. "We shall see." "Yos, we shall see. Send, your maid down to make a proper search of your room. This rehearsal has been too long held up with this malicious trifling." "It's, no trifle to lose a thousand pound necklace," said Dolores. "As this ragamuffin here shall see. I insist that his dressing room be searched as well." Antony looked down at the slight figuro beside him. Rosemary was shaking nervously. The whole scene was unbearably ugly. A warm note came into Antony's voice. "What about it, old man?" he said. "Just a formality." "By all means. Let them search mv room," answered Rosemary. "We'll have some neutrals to overlook tho searching," said Antony decidedly. "Green and Lawson, you've no scenes in this act, have you? Just go down as witnesses, will you?" "Do you doubt me?" cried Dolores again, furiously. She had no suspicion that Leslie Gail was other than he seemed, but as she heard Antony speak tho thouglft thrilled through her, "How ho could speak to the woman ho loved" and Dolores Monclair, heroine of a score of contes d'amotir, felt suddenly jealous of a little boy from the slums. Tho two actors, Green and Lawson, turned with rather solemn faces to go with Dolores and her maid to search the dressing rooms. "Now got on with it, Atkinson," said Antony. "These interruptions are maddening." "Still, I can't see why Monclair should make such a fuss if . . ." Atkinson stopped appalled, and stood clutching Antony's arm. Nell Forrest had come through the wings on to tho stage, and dangling from her outstretched hand was a necklace of emeralds set in platinum. "I found this in Leslie's make-up box," she said to the stupefied company. "Nell" cried Rosemary in an agony. Nell Forrest merely glanced at her, and crossed over to Dolores Monclair, to whom, in full sight of everyone, she handed the nccklace. "It was hidden under a lot of odds and ends at the bottom," she explained. (To be continued daily.)