The Womans Way - Page 68/222

The two days that followed their arrival seemed to Derrick to be a

succession of hours born of delirium and nurtured by frenzy. Mr.

Bloxford, still in his preposterous fur coat, was everywhere at once,

and waving his hands as usual; Derrick, who had begun by shouting, soon

became hoarse, and discovered why it was that Mr. Bloxford relied, on

such occasions, entirely on gesture.

Derrick followed his example as well as he could, and by dint of

expressive pantomime, and sometimes forcible persuasion with a fist

which had acquired an astonishing readiness, got the motley crew of

quadrupeds and bipeds on dry land, formed up his column, marched it to

the spot outside the handsome city, and then sank on an upturned box,

wiping his brows, and wondering, while he watched the experienced

baggage hands deftly erect the monster tent, whether he should ever get

his voice back.

It was summer in England, but it was like winter here, a bland and mild

winter, with, fortunately for Bloxford's circus, no rain--at any rate,

at present--and all through the day the scene had been lit up by a

brilliant sun which, shining through a singularly clear atmosphere,

seemed to destroy distance and to bestow sharp outlines on every object.

There was something exhilarating in the air, and the bustle and

excitement, and Derrick, having rested, went to his canvas quarters

feeling his blood stir within him, and his past life stretching away

behind him as if it had belonged to another man.

They opened to a big "house," comprising an audience of all classes, and

it might be said all nationalities; for in the din that arose from the

crowd Derrick caught scraps of Italian, Spanish, and French, the thick,

soft tone of the Mexican, the brogue of the Irishman; it was a veritable

Babel. As he passed behind the opening through which the performers

entered, Isabel Devigne stepped out from the women's dressing-room, and

Derrick could not suppress a start of surprise and admiration.

As a kind of compliment to the country, she was made up to represent a

queen of the Incas, and was the personification of barbaric splendour.

Her superb figure glittered and scintillated with silver and gold

tinsel, which, in the garish light, would look like a plate of precious

metal. A scarlet cloak partially draped her. The effect of her height

was increased by a head-dress of waving plumes, and her dark brows and

the natural scarlet of her lips were intensified by her make-up. Of

course, she saw him start and the frank admiration in his eyes, and she

smiled as she drew herself up with a proud consciousness of her beauty.