e not to close the theatre."

"Oh, hang the President!" cried Lemoine impatiently. "Why doesn't he
put a stop to the war, and then the theatre would remain open of its
own accord."

"He is doing his best to put a stop to the war, only his army does not
carry out his orders as implicitly as our manager does," said Dupre,
smiling at the other's vehemence.

"Balmeceda is a fool," retorted the younger actor. "If he were out of
the way, the war would not last another day. I believe he is playing a
losing game, anyhow. It's a pity he hasn't to go to the front himself,
and then a stray bullet might find him and put an end to the war, which
would save the lives of many better men."

"I say, Lemoine, I wish you wouldn't talk like that," expostulated the
manager gently, "especially when there are so many listeners."

"Oh! the larger my audience, the better I like it," rejoined Lemoine.
"I have all an actor's vanity in that respect. I say what I think, and
I don't care who hears me."

"Yes, but you forget that we are, in a measure, guests of this country,
and we should not abuse our hosts, or the man who represents them."

"Ah, does he represent them? It seems to me you beg the whole question;
that's just what the war is about. The general opinion is that
Balmeceda misrepresents them, and that the country would be glad to be
rid of him."

"That may all be," said the manager almost in a whisper, for he was a
man evidently inclined towards peace; "but it does not rest with us to
say so. We are French, and I think, therefore, it is better not to
express an opinion."

"I'm not French," cried Lemoine. "I'm a native Chilian, and I have a
right to abuse my own country if I choose to do so."

"All the more reason, then," said the manager, looking timorously over
his shoulder--"all the more reason that you should be careful what you
say."

"I suppose," said Dupre, by way of putting an end to the discussion,
"it is time for us to get our war-paint on. Come along, Lemoine, and
lecture me on our common art, and stop talking politics, if the
nonsense you utter about Chili and its president is politics."

The two actors entered the theatre; they occupied the same dressing-
room, and the volatile Lemoine talked incessantly.

Although there were but few people in the stalls the gallery was well
filled, as was usually the case.

When going on for the last act in the final scene, Dupre whispered a
word to the man who controlled th