e it was the first comedy which had
been produced since the days of Sheridan. He put it into the repertoire,
and played it once a week, and whenever it was played it brought a
guinea to Paul's pocket. It is not every first effort in any work of art
which does as much as this, however, and Paul had the good sense to see
that he was fortunate, and looked hopefully to the future. He crept
into the gallery when the piece was played in any town, and watched his
neighbours, and listened to their comments on the action and to their
talk between the acts. This taught him a great deal, for he saw how
little the popular instinct varies in matters of emotion, and the
verdict to which he listened was everywhere substantially the same.

There came an especially memorable afternoon when Mr. Warr in a
four-wheeled fly drove to Darco's lodgings, and announced the sudden
sickness of the juvenile lead. Darco pounced on Paul as the sick man's
successor.

'My dear sir,' said Paul, 'I never spoke a word in public in my life. I
can't do it.'

'That's all right, my poy,' said Darco. 'You've got to do it.'

There was no arguing the matter.

Mr. Warr was despatched in the fly to gather the members of the company.
Darco thrust into Paul's hands the part he had to study, and went off
tranquilly to his own room to sleep. Paul slaved for an hour, and seemed
to have mastered nothing. Darco, having timed himself to sleep for one
hour precisely, awoke to the minute, and bundled off his victim to the
theatre. There such members of the company as Mr. Warr had succeeded
in finding were already collected, and the scenes in which Paul was
concerned were run through again and again until he began to have some
idea of what was expected of him, and even some distant knowledge of
the words. But the whole thing was like a nightmare, and whenever the
thought of the coming night crossed his mind, it afflicted him with a
half paralysis. Darco worried him incessantly, bubbling with unhelpful
enthusiasm, roaring at him, pushing and hauling him hither and thither,
so that at last he resigned himself to a stupor of despair. The leading
lady intervened, and she and Darco talked together for a minute.

'Tam it!' he shouted. 'Do you think I want anypoty to deach me? I am
Cheorge Dargo. I know my drade!'

But the leading lady stuck to him, and at last he went away.

'Now, my dear,' said Miss Belmont to Paul. 'I'll shepherd you. You're
mostly with me, and so long