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Mulworth, Meroni, and it was even rumored Jimber declared, the most perfect rehearsal they had ever been present at. "Exactly three hours and a half!" Crayford had remarked when the curtain came down on the fourth act. "So we come ahead of the Metropolitan. I've just heard they've had a set back with Sennier's opera; can't produce for nearly a week after the date they'd settled.
"But they are off on another job to Mulworth, t'other side of the station. He wanted us to go out in a fishing-boat. But no one 'ud go. He be gone for a bit o' rope now. You see, sir, them rocks 'ud dash a boat to pieces like a bit o' eggshell. There's only three chaps aboard as far as we could see awhile ago. And not a hundred yards off us. But it's a hundred yards of death, as you might say.
Go and spread it. This boy's getting compliments enough to turn him silly." And Crayford clapped Claude almost affectionately on the shoulder. "Now then, Mulworth!" he roared, with a complete change of manner. "When in thunder are we going to have that curtain up?" Claude turned away. He wished to find Charmian, to tell her that Mrs. Shiffney had come and had brought Jonson Ramer with her.
He wants very much to see you." "Where is he?" "Somewhere behind. I think he's viewing camels. Can you come with me?" "Of course!" He went off quickly with Mr. Mulworth, who shouted: "I say, where is Jimber?" to some unknown personality as he ran toward a door which gave on to the stage. "Let us go and sit down at the back of the stalls, Alston," said Charmian.
"Making some cuts," said Crayford. "The stage shows things up. There are bits in that act that have got to come out. But it's a bully act and will go down as easily as a Hullo, Jimber! Sure you've got your motors right for the locust scene?" He escaped. "Mr. Mulworth!" cried Charmian, seeing the producer rushing toward the wings, with the perspiration pouring over his now haggard features.
Give us your ambers! No, not the blues! Your ambers! Where's Jimber? I say, where is Jimber?" Mr. Mulworth, the stage producer, who was the speaker, appeared running sidewise down an uncovered avenue between two rows of stalls close to the stage. Although a large man, he proceeded with remarkable rapidity. Emerging into the open he came upon Claude. "Oh, Mr. Crayford is here.
"He'll send us away." "Oh, no, he won't!" she replied, with determination. The Madame Sennier spirit was upon her in full force. It was nearly four o'clock when they left the theater. Jacob Crayford, Mr. Mulworth and Jimber were still at work when they came out of the stage door into the cold blackness of the night and got into the taxi-cab.
The hours had flown, and now, when Alston looked at his watch and told Charmian the time, she could scarcely believe him. "Where can Claude be?" "I'll go behind." "Jimber!" roared Mr. Crayford. "Where is Jimber?" Mr. Mulworth, who looked now as if he had lain awake in his clothes for more nights than he cared to remember, rushed upon the stage almost fanatically.
She clasped the two arms of her stall. Something went wrong on the stage, and the opera was stopped. The orchestra died away in a sort of wailing confusion, which ceased on the watery sound of a horn. Enid Mardon began speaking with concentrated determination. Crayford and Mr. Mulworth came upon the stage. "Where's Mr. Heath? Where's Mr. Heath?" shouted Crayford.
Had he not invented the marvellous locust effect, which was to be a new sensation? Mr. Mulworth, by dint of working with fury and sitting up all night, had become fanatical about the opera. He existed only for it. No thought of any other thing could find a resting-place in his mind. His "production" was going to be a masterpiece such as had never before been known in the history of the stage.
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