Nobody's Boy Part 23

After the bleeding he required a good deal of attention. I, of course, had not stayed in bed. I was the nurse, carrying out Vitalis'

instructions.

Poor little Pretty-Heart! he liked me to nurse him. He looked at me and smiled sadly. His look was quite human. He, who was usually so quick and petulant, always playing tricks on one of us, was now quiet and obedient.

In the days that followed he tried to show us how friendly he felt towards us, even to Capi, who had so often been the victim of his tricks. As in the usual trend of inflammation of the lungs, he soon began to cough; the attacks tired him greatly, for his little body shook convulsively. All the money which I had, five sous, I spent on sugar sticks for him, but they made him worse instead of better. With his keen instinct, he soon noticed that every time he coughed I gave him a little piece of sugar stick. He took advantage of this and coughed every moment in order to get the remedy that he liked so much, and this remedy instead of curing him made him worse.

When I found out this trick I naturally stopped giving him the candy, but he was not discouraged. First he begged for it with an appealing look; then when he saw that I would not give it to him, he sat up in his seat and bent his little body with his hand on his stomach, and coughed with all his might. The veins in his forehead stood out, the tears ran from his eyes, and his pretense at choking, in the end, turned to a dreadful attack over which he had no control.

I had to stay at the inn with Pretty-Heart while my master went out alone. One morning upon his return he told me that the landlady had demanded the sum that we owed her. This was the first time that he had ever spoken to me about money. It was quite by chance that I had learned that he had sold his watch to buy my sheepskin. Now he told me that he had only fifty sous left. The only thing to do, he said, was to give a performance that same day. A performance without Zerbino, Dulcie or Pretty-Heart; why, that seemed to me impossible!

"We must get forty francs at once," he said. "Pretty-Heart must be looked after. We must have a fire in the room, and medicine, and the landlady must be paid. If we pay her what we owe her, she will give us another credit."

Forty francs in this village! in the cold, and with such poor resources at our command!

While I stayed at home with Pretty-Heart, Vitalis found a hall in the public market, for an out-of-door performance was out of the question.

He wrote the announcements and stuck them up all over the village. With a few planks of wood he arranged a stage, and bravely spent his last fifty sous to buy some candles, which he cut in half so as to double the lights.

From the window of our room I saw him come and go, tramping back and forth in the snow. I wondered anxiously what program he could make. I was soon enlightened on this subject, for along came the town crier of the village, wearing a scarlet cap, and stopped before the inn. After a magnificent roll of his drum he read out our program.

Vitalis had made the most extravagant promises! There was to be present a world-renowned artist--that was Capi--and a young singer who was a marvel; the marvel was myself. But the most interesting part of the farce was that there was no fixed price for the entertainment. We relied upon the generosity of the audience, and the public need not pay until after it had seen, heard, and applauded.

That seemed to me extraordinarily bold. Who was going to applaud us?

Capi certainly deserved to be celebrated, but I ... I was not at all convinced that I was a marvel.

Although Pretty-Heart was very ill at this moment, when he heard the drum, he tried to get up. From the noise and Capi's barks, he seemed to guess that it was to announce our performance.

I had to force him back on his bed; then he made signs to me to give him his general's uniform--the red coat and trousers with gold braid, and hat with the plume. He clasped his hands and went down on his knees to beg me. When he saw that he could get nothing from me by begging, he tried what anger would do, then finally melted into tears. It was evident that we should have a great deal of trouble to convince him that he must give up all idea of playing that night. I thought it would be better not to let him know when we started.

When Vitalis returned, he told me to get my harp ready and all the things we required for the entertainment. Pretty-Heart, who knew what this meant, turned to his master and commenced his entreaties again. He could not have better expressed his desires than by the sounds he uttered, the twisting of his face, and the turns of his body. There were real tears on his cheeks and they were real kisses that he imprinted on Vitalis' hand. "You want to play?" asked Vitalis, who had not been told what happened before.

"Yes, oh, yes!" Pretty-Heart's whole person seemed to cry out. He tried to jump to show that he was no longer sick. We know very well that if we took him out it would be his death.

It was time for us to start. Before going, I made up a good fire and wrapped Pretty-Heart up in his coverlets. He cried again and embraced me as much as he could, then we started.

As we tramped through the snow, my master told me what he expected of me. We could not, of course, give our usual repertoire, as our princ.i.p.al actors were missing, but Capi and I could vie with each other in doing our best. We had to collect forty francs! Forty francs! It was terrible!

Impossible!

Vitalis had prepared everything. All we had to do now was to light the candles, but this was an extravagance that we could not indulge in until the room was filled, for our illuminations would not have to come to an end before our entertainment.

Whilst we took possession of our theater, the town crier, with his drum, came through the village streets for the last time. After I had dressed Capi and myself, I went outside and stood behind a pillar to watch the people arrive.

The roll of the drum became louder. It was approaching the market place and I could hear a babble of voices. Behind the drum came a score of youngsters, all keeping step. Without stopping the beating of his drum, the town crier took up his place between the two large lamps that were lit at the entrance of our theater. The public had only to walk in and take their seats for the performance to commence.

Alas! how long they were coming, and yet the drum at the door continued gayly its _rat ta ta ta_. All the boys in the village must have been there. But it was not the youngsters who were likely to give us forty francs. There would have to be some important people, open-handed and generous.

At last Vitalis decided that we ought to commence, although the hall was far from being full; but we could not wait longer, worried as we were by the terrible question of candles.

I had to appear first and sing a few songs, accompanying myself on the harp. I must confess the applause that I received was very weak. I had never thought very much of myself as an entertainer, but the marked coolness with which the audience received my efforts discouraged me. If I did not please them they would certainly not give us anything. It was not for the glory that I was singing; it was for poor Pretty-Heart. Ah, how I wanted to stir this public, to make them enthusiastic.... But I could see only too well that they did not consider me a marvel.

Capi was more successful. He received several encores. Thanks to Capi, the entertainment ended in a burst of applause. Not only did they clap their hands, but they stamped their feet.

The decisive moment had arrived. While Capi, with the cup in his jaws, ran through the audience, I danced a Spanish dance on the stage, with Vitalis playing an accompaniment. Would Capi collect forty francs? That was the question which made my heart beat while I smiled at the public in my pleasantest manner.

I was out of breath, but I still continued to dance, for I was not to stop until Capi had returned. He did not hurry himself; when he found that he did not receive a coin, he placed his paw against the person's pocket. At last I saw him about to return, and thought that I might stop, but Vitalis made me a sign to go on.

I continued to dance, and going a few steps nearer Capi, I saw that the cup was not full; far from it. Vitalis had also seen this. Bowing to the audience, he said:

"Ladies and gentlemen, I think that, without flattering ourselves, we have conscientiously carried out our program, yet as our candles are still burning, I will, if the public wishes, sing some songs myself. Our dog, Capi, will make another quest and those who have not yet given will perhaps give this time. Please have your money ready."

Although Vitalis had been my teacher, I had never really heard him sing, or at least not as he sung that evening. He selected two songs, an air from "Joseph" and one from "Richard the Lion Hearted."

Although I was only a little boy and was no judge as to whether one sang with technique or without, Vitalis' singing stirred me strangely. I went into a corner of the stage, for my eyes filled with tears as I listened to his beautiful notes.

Through a mist, I saw a young lady, who occupied the first row, clap her hands with all her might. I had already noticed that she was not a peasant like the rest of the people in the hall. She was a lady, young and beautiful, and from her handsome fur coat I took her to be the richest woman in the village. She had with her a little child who had applauded Capi heartily. It was probably her son for the likeness was striking.

After the first song, Capi went the round again. I saw with surprise that the lady had not put anything into his cup.

When my master had finished the air from the second opera, she beckoned me to her.

"I want to speak to that gentleman," she said.

I was surprised, I thought she would have done better to have dropped something into the cup. Capi returned. He had collected very little more on this second round.

"What does the lady want?" asked Vitalis.

"To speak to you."

"I have nothing to say."

"She did not give anything to Capi, perhaps she would like to give it now."

"Then it is for Capi to go to her, not for me."

However, he decided to go, and took the dog with him. I followed them.

By now a servant had appeared, carrying a lantern and a rug. He stood beside the lady and the child. Vitalis bowed coldly to her.

"Forgive me for having disturbed you," she said, "but I wanted to congratulate you."

Vitalis bowed, without saying a word.

"I am a musician," continued the lady; "I am telling you this so that you will know how much I appreciate your superb talent."

Superb talent! My master! The dog trainer! I was amazed.

"An old man like me has no talent," he replied coldly.

"Do not think that I am inquisitive, but...." began the lady.