The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-04-03

and curious working of morbid consclen-
tiousness filled Blanchet's mind with a
persistent longing to know Il, IN the
carry out his orders properly. There were
but two motions to make-to go to the
door and open it. Yes; but would he be
sufficiently cool and would he have the
necessary time? Would nothing happen
to prevent or paralyZe him? On! only
to be sure of himself! To know that at
the desired moment he would do his duty.
week-two weeks-passed by. HIS
mind was greatly troubled. he became
sad and mute; he sat at his post In the
theater pale, preoccupied and haunted by
this one thought. He looked biackly at
the spectators in the fourth gallery; he
ended by being angry at all those people
who came there for their own pleasure
and for his torture; he regarded them as
enemies; he positively hated them. What
great harm would it do, after all, II they
were in some danger? Why did they
come there and expose themselves wan
tonly for pleasure?
Gradually he accustomed himself to the
possibility Of an accident. which he
thought natural thing. even desirable.
He would be certain then, and would see
how it would pass off! He would be free
from this enervating indeclslon. But an
accident only comes when it wills. All!
If he could only help it a little. How?
But he was going mad to think OF such
thing! Why not? An accident which
would not be one-rather a trial accident
"a kind of general rehearsal, which would
prove him ready, quite ready, if the neces-
sity came. But how could he manage it?
Nothing easier. if he is willing to
do it. A simple, cry OF Fire"
from himself. Blanchet, during
little, just little beginning of panic
then Immediately to rise from his char
two strides-the key in the lock-that key
which he has with him always, always
the door opens-soon the audience Gains
dow, reassured-each one resumes his seat
and all is over. At least he would know
if he is physically able to execute the
orders. oh, no, moi He will not resist
mad desire which torments him. He does
not resist it, and one evening
This evening he arrives earlier than
usual. The room is still wrapped IN half
obscurity, but he knows his way well. 1t
is decided; it shall be tonight! He seats
quite alone. Listen! There is a roar in
the passage; it rises louder and louder. 1t
is they, the people for the fourth gallery.
The chandeliers and footlights shine out,
and the transparency-ah the transpar-
ency will serve purpose tonight. The
crowd press against each other and seat
themselves on their benches. There they
calm now. Patience! They will move
and struggle comically soon enough. Ali
There is the orchestra leader in his desk.
They have played the overture, the cur
tain rises, the actors go and come upon
the stage. Wait moment, till they reach
the end of the first act. How long it
takes! At last the time has come. He
lifts his tall figure to its full height and
abruptly shouts: "Fire!
Everything happens just as he foresaw.
There is hesitation, there is panic and the
crowd struggle. Now it is his turn! Two
strides. he is before the door, hia hand in
his pocket to find the key-what! What
doesit mean? He does not feel it, it is not
there. In his other pocket, then. 1t is
not there, either! But this is impossible!
Has he forgotten it? Is it lost-stolen?
The people rush forward, crying:
"Guard Open the door! Break it I'M"
Blanchet hopes to calm them, and re-
spends:
at is nothing! 1t was I who called!
There is no fire! 1t was just to see!''
They do not listen-the panic grows.
Suddenly the gas is extinguished and
darkness reigns. There is great cry of
despair, followed by crashing sounds and
groans.
The key-the cursed keyi
Crowded and jostled, Blanchet feels his
hand on the railing of the fourth gallery.
down yonder. No! He will not survive
the disaster for which he is responsible!
And springing INTO space, cries:
SIT is my fault 1t was l 1t was y"
V.
Four-five-six-seve O'Clock! That is
a clear and well-known sound. This is his
chamber. He extends his arm and feels
the key! 1t is dream, then? God be
thanked! But he wants no more such
dreams-he would go mad!
He rises, dresses. descends to the street,
goes to M. Sylviani's residence and rings.
No one answers. They must rise late at
directors. Finally the door opens.
Monsieur Sylviani!"
"He is asleep"
81 wish to see him."
Impossible"
At the sound of voices NJ. Sylviani ap-
pears in his night clothes, his ewes swollen
and puffed with sleep-a comical sight.
rs it you, Blanchet? What-what?
The theater?"
theater-It is lit is this commission. I
can not keep it any longer; do you under
stand? l can not take it"-and he hands
him the key.
ibid you come and disturb me for this ?"
Pardon me, sir, but l could not endure
such responsibility any longer. 1 was too
much afraid"
The old tenor, who has sung LA Dame
Blanche, smiled scornfuliy. Could it be
possible and for an old soldier? He could
not understand it. Then, after a moment,
feeling that he would catch cold in his light
attire, he said, coldly and severely:
Every we'll, NJ. Blanchet; from today
you are no longer in my employ"
He took the key and FASTENED into his
room.
Blanchet went down the stairs. His
place was lost. and it was hard; but much
better this than that terrible commission.
AT least, he was delivered from that!
vi.
A few days later as Blanchet, who had
again taken up his peaceful way of life,
reached the museum in the morning.
Madame Guarrigues, with hair half