The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1892-09-30
HIS CHANCE CAME.

Clement and Henry walford were twin
brothers-how like and yet unlike. In
appearance there was everything to lead
one to see that they could both lay claim
to the same birthday; their faces were
identical, their figures the same. Fortune,
however, had placed them in totally diff
ferent channels. Their mother, in her
day (for she had been dead these twenty
years., was an actress OF rare ability, and
people had crowded theatres night after
night to follow her impressive acting.
Both her sons had inherited her talents
in no small measure, and, two years pre-
vious to her death, they had launched out
in their first struggle to win fresh laurels
for the name around which all that was
gifted had gathered. Talents, alasl may
live and shine, yet they may live and
scarcely flicker. To-day, these two men
were brothers only in name. The gifts
OF one had been recognized by a tickle
public; the abilities OF the other never
even had thought.
Clement Walford! His name was on
everybody's lips. The critics gave him
columns in the newspapers, theatrical
managers almost knelt at his feet, and
paid eagerly the money he demanded to
secure his services; society held open its
doors, and the great actor entered at his
ease. And Henry? A struggler-nothing
more; disappointed struggler. Clever,
but unknown; gifted, but unheard of.
His brothers. success may have cut him,
but it never discouraged him. He labored
on, still hopeful. While the popular
man was rich in London, the other was
lowering on the very edge of poverty.
There were times when he had been
forced to write to his brother a letter
asking for help, but no reply ever came.
The poor mans wife had even knocked at
the great actors door; but the response
from servants lips was that Mr.. Wal
ford was engaged" And so the brothers
lived. The one utterly oblivious to the
ties OF relationship, the other hoping for
recognition and reconciliation at last.
Clement Walford's triumph was at
hand. Hitherto Shakespeare's characters
had remained untouched, but paragraphs
in the newspapers had just appeared an
nouncing the fact that it was his inten-
tion to appear at an early date as Hamlet.
Everybody, from manager to public, was
sanguine of a great success; 1t was the
topic OF the clubs, the conversation of
the critics. Clement Walford himself
felt inwardly comfortable and satisfied
that failure with him could never be.
Successl Success He harped on that
word at night, saw the dream of his life
realized as he walked the streets to re-
hearsal, and heard the enthusiasm OF the
people, and watched them clamoring
there, even in the empty theater, as scene
by scene was gone through at rehearsal
on the stage. In all this he was alone
with himself. He thought of Clement
Walford and of him alone. A brotherl
He had none. The other had had the
same chances-why did he not take thems
II man, even his own flesh and blood,
snapped his fingers at his opportunities,
was it for him to put them in his grasp?
The night drew near. The day before
the performance lad arrived and the last
rehearsal had been held. Clement Wal
ford returned to his rooms. He stood
before the gilded mantelpiece and looked
into the glass. He started back! He felt
giddy. Again he looked into the mirror
with straining eye. He had never seen
such deathly pallor on his face before.
He smiled at his foolishness. He at
tempted to reach a chair, but found his
feet would scarcely carry him. Make
whatever effort he might, his head was
dropping on to his breast, he felt his
hands trembling and looked at them to
see If it were true.
Excitement = strain anxiety ner-
vousness-overdoing it, he cried; "a
drink OF wster-brandy-will set me right.
Where's the bell rope? All! there it is"
and crawling toward the cord, across
the room, he just managed to reach it
when he fell to the ground.
When he awoke he lay in bed, the doc
~ l., L.
ward those of the doctor.
Why-why am here? How long have
been here9 Is this-is this the first
night7' he asked.
You have been here few hours, that
is all" was the doctors reply. Lie
quite still-keep your hands in bed, now"
Thank Godl Thank Godl" the man
said, " l was afraid it was the first night.
What's the matter with me? What's the
matter with me? Why don't you answer?
Don't look at me like that; answer mel"
"You have been doing too much lately
you are not strongp
Not strong?"
And nothing but perfect rest will
bring you round again" the doctor said
" You have"
What? what? Tell me quicklyi"
You have broken blood vessel"
The man looked at the doctor for a
moment. Then he rose in his bed. His
voice was scarcely discernible; it was
cold and harsh; it was not the voice of
the man whose tone had fascinated all its
hearers. He looked the medical man
wildly in the face. He asked, quietly at
first:
DO you know what tomorrow night
is? No; of course you don't. But do.
1t is the first night of Hamlet, and /
shall be there-there, with the house be-
fore me, hanging on every word / utter.
Do you think this bed will hold me from
my triumph; do you think you, or the
warning of any man, will prevent me
from welcoming the hour of my success!
Not strong! You don't know me. You
are a stranger to my strength. Don't
speak word. I shall only ridicule your
warning. l tell you, you don't know me-
Take your hand awsy-take it away
What do you sayf Rest--rest here, or !