The Bill-Toppers

“Yes,” said Jimmy, greatly amused, “with an invisible wire under the dress....”

“Hurrah!” cried Tom. “Would you like two shillings a day, Glass-Eye? And your food and clothes? You shall travel with me; you shall appear on the stage. Come along to the café, we’ll sign the engagement!”

“But what will Miss Lily say?” objected Glass-Eye, trembling at the idea of announcing her departure to her terrible mistress.

“Well,” said Tom, “I’ll be nice to her Pa, if she’s nice to you. Come along!”

“But I don’t know how to sign my name.”

“You can make your mark, before two witnesses. Come along!”

Glass-Eye, dazzled and beglamored, followed Tom. She, an artiste! On the stage! At last! Going round the world with Tom ... living with him ... married ... almost!

“That’s come in the nick of time!” said Jimmy, as he watched her go off the stage. “Lily, perhaps ... in her new position ... will want a real maid, not a Glass-Eye! Lily ... why, she’s perfection! To think of the abysses she has walked along without falling! There’s more merit than one thinks in that kind of life. And how I should like to get hold of the people who talk ill of her. And that ... that ... oh, that one!”

And Jimmy clenched his fists, at the thought of Trampy, and his heart burst forth: all his patient, brave, manly heart, now well nigh exhausted.

Poor Ave Maria, indifferent to what was going on before her, was still waiting on the stage. For that matter, it was but a few minutes since Lily brought her there. Ave Maria felt inclined to go and meet Trampy on the pavement, to throw her arms round his neck as soon as he appeared. But Lily had earnestly recommended her not to move, whatever happened. So she remained in her corner and, under the pale light, with her back to the forest scene, in the shadow, Ave Maria looked like a lurking she-wolf, ready to leap out at any moment.

As for Lily, she tripped down the stairs to the stage, for a few seconds contemplated all those bill-toppers at her feet, so to speak; but she took the last stairs at a bound: Trampy had just entered! Ave Maria, in her corner, behind the pillars and the confused heap of scenery, could not see him. Lily preferred that. She would manage everything her own way and get rid of him once and for all ... get rid of that footy rotter who had come there to jeer at her. He stepped along, with his hat on one side and a dead cigar between his teeth. Trampy, broken, diseased, done for, was jubilant for all that; turned his broad smile from girl to girl, winked his eye gaily at the Roofers, who drew back in disgust, and, with outstretched hand:

“How d’you do, Lily? How’s my dear little wife?”

He enjoyed the humiliation which he was inflicting upon her, would have liked his clothes to be still shabbier, his shoes more down at heel, so that he might thoroughly disgrace his dear little wife—that great bill-topper, who was leaving the pink of husbands in such a state of destitution. And he threw out his chest, increased his familiarities, and even pretended to kiss her, pushed his blotched and pimpled mug close to that charming face. Jimmy gave a bound: Trampy! On the stage! Lily’s tormentor! Jimmy, pale with fury, walked up to him, stiff-armed, ready to break the jaw of that thief in the night and chuck him into the street, without more words! But Lily stopped him with a quick gesture:

“Why, Jimmy,” she said, “would you keep a man from earning his living? Do you find fault with a husband for loving his little wife? I am your little wife, am I not?” she continued, tantalizing Trampy with her peach-like cheek, tickling his nose with her fair curls. “Don’t you deserve a dear little wife?”

“Why, of course I do!” Trampy agreed, surprised, all the same, at this loving reception from his dear little wife.

“There!” cried Lily, unable to restrain herself any longer and giving him a box on the ears. “That’ll teach you to call me your little wife, you damned tramp cyclist! I’ve never been your little wife. I’ll show you your little wife, the real one. Come along, Ave Maria! Here’s Trampy!”

“Eh, what?” said Trampy, turning color. “Ave Maria? I don’t know any Ave Maria.”

But already Ave Maria was upon him, pressing him in her arms: her Trampy! And her cough brought pink-red patches to her hectic cheeks.

“What’s this mean? I don’t know you,” he stammered, gazing horror-stricken at this old, lean woman, who was taking possession of him before everybody, taking possession of him who cared only for plump little things, sultan that he was. “I don’t know her, I don’t know her!”

“Here!” cried Lily, snatching the paper from Ave Maria’s bodice. “Do you know that? Can you read? Now will you deny that she’s your wife ... your wife ... your wife?” she repeated, rejoicing in being able to hurl the word to Trampy, who turned pale with fright.

“We’ll try and arrange it,” whispered Jimmy, still hardly recovered from his surprise. “A divorce in Lily’s favor first! She’ll dictate your answer for you; you’ve only got to say yes to everything. And then you can be off somewhere; to West Australia. I’ll pay your expenses. And don’t you ever dare to show your face again! Never! Do you understand?”

“And that’ll teach you to make little of people!” cried Lily. “Let’s drink to the health of Trampy, the faithful husband! I’ll stand champagne all round to the health of good old Trampy and his dear little wife!”

But, without waiting for the champagne, already Ave Maria was dragging Trampy to the door and the Roofer girls gave him a triumphal exit. They sent him to Halifax, they sent him to Coventry. They flourished things at his head, amid an uproar of jolly hootings, and took aim at him—“Ping! Ping!”—and pinched him, as the Merry Wives did Falstaff in Windsor Forest. And they slipped off their shoes in honor of his wedding, by Jove! And Trampy fled under a shower of boots and slippers, fled like mad, as though the devil were after him.

Jimmy did not know if he was on his head or his heels for joy:

“I’ll stand the champagne!” he said. “To Miss Lily’s health!”

So much had happened in those few minutes: Lily free again ... and no scandal ... the divorce assured ... Trampy admitting his misdeeds, inventing them, if necessary, confessing anything they asked him to, as long as they did not mention bigamy.... Jimmy, had it been possible, would have offered a general picnic to the whole company. He, usually so calm, felt inclined to sing, to laugh. Never would he have dared to hope.... And it had all come so simply, like the things that are bound to happen. Lily was free!

“Bring the bottles up here,” he said to the call-boy, “and biscuits and cakes. We’ll drink it here! We’ll christen the stage, as if we were launching a ship ... in champagne, here, by ourselves! among ourselves! Here’s to the stage-manager! Here’s to all of us!”

Lily, happy as happy could be, shook everybody by the hand, distributed a “’K you” here and a “’K you” there. She would have liked to have Glass-Eye by her side, to keep her in countenance, open her bag, give her her handkerchief ... liked to be a little lady who can’t do without her maid ... but, damn it, where was Glass-Eye? And Lily clenched her fist when she saw her return with cakes in her hands, escorted by Tom, who helped to carry the champagne.

“Where have you been, Glass-Eye?” asked Lily severely. “What have you been doing with Tom? Give me my handkerchief, Glass-Eye.”

“Here’s your bag, Miss Lily,” said Glass-Eye excitedly. “I’m going to leave you, Miss Lily.”

“What for?” said Lily, feeling vexed. “Because I owe you a few little things?”

“Oh, no, not that! I’m going to be a star, too; on my hands: Demon Maud, the lady with the flaming eye; a candle in my glass eye ... before two witnesses ... I made my mark at the bottom.”

“She’s drunk!” cried Lily, utterly dumfounded. “Or else she’s going mad. Jimmy! Tom! Glass-Eye’s going mad!”

But, when Tom had explained, Lily approved. Glass-Eye wasn’t stupid, really; very intelligent, though you’d never think it. Glad to see her engaged.... And she shook her by the hand, like an old friend and comrade, glad to hear of the success of others ... among artistes....

And, suddenly, with head thrown back, full-throated, her feather nodding hysterically on her head, Lily laughed ... laughed ... laughed!

Maud an artiste! On her hands! A candle in her eye! One fat freak the more on the stage! Gee, they must drink to Glass-Eye’s health: Glass-Eye, the bill-topper!

They were all laughing now, filling their glasses at a table in the middle of the stage, eating cakes, amusing themselves with the corks, which went pop, like toy guns, and applauding with their thumb-nails. To the Astrarium! And long live jollity! That night, they would one and all risk their skins. They were like soldiers drinking to their sweethearts, in the trenches, before the battle. And everything promised well; already a legend was forming among the painted faces: the booking office besieged; ladies and gentlemen in motors; motors in a row, miles and miles of motors; the street bursting with people who had come to book seats! And champagne on the stage, cakes, my, for the asking! An orgy which would start its trip around the world to-morrow, with those few bottles transformed into a Niagara of champagne, enough to flood every greenroom from the Klondike to Calcutta!

They all enjoyed themselves and let themselves go. And the Roofers, who worshiped Lily, in spite of her abominable tricks, raised their glasses to her health, crowded round her, smiled merrily at her with their white teeth, congratulated her for sending that footy rotter packing:

“Here’s to Miss Lily! And a round on the thumbnail in honor of Miss Lily!”

This christening of the Astrarium was turning into a triumph for her; and there was the evening to come ... the evening! It made her forget Trampy, Jimmy, Glass-Eye, everybody. And ... the next day ... her Pa, her Ma, the New Trickers would be at her feet! Oh, she would give ten years of her life if to-morrow could be there now!

And the evening came. Lily did not leave the theater. She walked nervously from her dressing-room to the stage, inspected the final operations, interested herself in everything, stopped the boy-violinist, who was crossing the stage with the other members of the band, congratulated him on his approaching marriage with one of the Graces. She talked to the artistes going up to their dressing-rooms, bestowed a smile upon Jimmy, another on the stage-manager, joked with the limelight-men working their apparatus on either side of the stage. The footlights lit up with a row of flames, the storm approached. There was a ringing of electric bells—“Ting! Ting! Ting!”—as in the machine-room of a ship before the tempest; the orchestra roared; and, as though at a thunder-clap, the velvet curtain split asunder: Patti-Patty was revealed on the stage, while the band played as if possessed. Lily, in the shadow of the wings, put her hand to her heart; her veins were ablaze. And that audience, at which she peeped through a crack in the scenery; that audience was hers, with its rustling silks, its bare shoulders, its diamonds, its flowers! She would have liked to step forward, to say:

“Here I am!”

She felt herself excited by a curious feeling; an aggressive mood, which, no doubt, came from all the healths she had drunk: to the Astrarium, to this one, to that one, to all of us! Gee, what fun it had been: champagne, cakes, my, tons of cakes! And Lily, who had long been unused to any such excess, felt her head splitting. A fever seemed also to reign all over the dressing-rooms and passages. They talked of front boxes reserved at a thousand francs by the Aero Club; stalls at fifty francs; every seat in the house filled; and the best people, nothing but the best! Lily, in her exalted condition, took it that they had all come for her; and she had to dazzle them all! And soar above them all! To a hurricane of applause from “her favorite audience,” the Astrarium audience, on a first night!

And she felt so gay that she was not angry when Glass-Eye asked her, now that she was an artiste, too, to teach her her stage-smile.

“Why, of course, Glass-Eye! I owe you that, to say nothing of the rest! But you won’t lose by waiting! Take my word for it: among friends, you know!...”

And she kissed her maid, felt inclined to cry, became quite sentimental at her going....

She was less amiable to Nunkie, who was prowling around near her. Oh, how angry she felt with that old rogue! Because of Thea, first of all; and then it was he who gave her away, not Jimmy! Tom had told her. Nunkie mumbled something to her: his dear girls; ungrateful creatures who were leaving him! His poor life shattered! His pigeons, he had his pigeons left; yes, and his home; but what was that compared with loving hearts? And, as she was on such good terms with Jimmy and everybody, couldn’t she use her influence? Oh, if he could have the Bambinis, be appointed their guardian! “He would bring together such a nice little family troupe: all the joys of home!

“You old wretch!” cried Lily, in a threatening voice. “Just go and look, at the corner of Oxford Street and Newman Street, if you can see me! You old snaky! You old bromide merchant! Hiding letters, too, you nigger-driving humbug! Oh, you’re sure to get the Bambinis, I don’t think!”

“Ver-r-rdammt!”

Nunkie turned on his heel, shaking the passage with tremendous oaths.

“I thought,” Lily shot at him from behind sarcastically, “I thought one ought never to swear! It’s wicked to swear, Mr. Fuchs!”

In her dressing-room, she went on laughing at Nunkie and his “Donner-r-r-wetter-r-r!” and his “S-s-satan! S-s-satan!” It made her comb her hair all awry and apply the grease-paint to her cheeks with a trembling hand. She felt a buzzing in her head: that confounded music which seemed to come from everywhere and hissed in her ears! But, when her turn came, she’d show them! Never had she felt so light. She was sure of herself, strangely sure. It seemed to her that, if need be, she’d have shot up to the stars, damn it!

As soon as she was ready, she went down to the stage. She didn’t know why. It was her wish to be everywhere, her craving for movement. The aerobike had been taken from its cage, behind the back-drop; the stage-manager, Jimmy and Jimmy’s assistants were standing round it. Jimmy was testing everything, for the last time, making sure that there would be no hitch:

“Hullo, Lily!” he said, when he saw her. “Are you ready?”

“Ready?” said Lily. “Look!”

And she flung back her wrap with her two bare arms and stood, a figure all charm and grace, with youth, joy and courage sparkling in her eyes. In the mysterious half-light, amid the endless sounds from the band, Lily seemed to shed rays. Jimmy, dazzled, looked at that dainty form, that delicate breast, those rounded shoulders, that splendid body fashioned by years of Spartan life, each muscle of which was quivering with enthusiasm. And she laughed ... laughed ... head thrown back, full-throated; told the story of Nunkie, with furious gestures, as though she were strangling the old beast. And then came sudden displays of feeling, for the Three Graces and the Bambinis.

Jimmy had never seen her like that. The stage-manager also thought her queer, for he looked at Jimmy as though to ask what on earth was the matter with her. And, going up to him, he said:

“Look how she’s trembling! One would think she had a fever.”

“It’s quite true,” said Jimmy.

And the two stared at each other in consternation when Lily, stooping to pick up her cloak, was nearly losing her balance and coming to the ground. They exchanged a few words in a whisper. Then the stage-manager said:

“Go up to your dressing-room, Miss Lily. You mustn’t stay here, you know. We’ll send for you when the time comes. Go and put your hair straight.”

It was only a pretext; but the same thought had passed through both their minds: it was the champagne! Lily, who was accustomed to drink nothing but water, was ... if not exactly drunk ... well ...

Thereupon, in an instant, Jimmy made up his mind: it was finished and settled, irrevocably, as though he had spent hours in reflecting. The newspapers had expressed doubts; there had been suggestions of trickery. An immediate, brilliant success was essential, to carry the thing off: a hitch and all was lost and the luck of the Astrarium and his own fame vanished in smoke! Lily was out of the question that night: she was bubbling over at every pore with unnatural excitement ... she was not Lily,—was not herself ... it meant certain death to her, the aerobike smashed to pieces, the end of all things! Lily would do it to-morrow, the next night; but not to-night.

He had just time to go to his dressing-room and put on his white sweater, black breeches, black stockings: an athletic costume which he always kept at the theater in case of need. And quick, in the saddle: the moment had come! He must succeed, now or never! And Jimmy, calm and sure of himself, took his seat on the aerobike. A great silence followed....

Lily, at that very minute, anxious at not being sent for in her dressing-room, was going back to the stage, but she was stopped at the top of the stairs by the stage-manager, who said that he had received an order by telephone from Cologne, from Harrasford: Lily not to perform that night....

“Let me pass,” cried Lily, laughing in spite of everything. “That’s enough of a joke. It’s time for me to go on, I say! Are you mad? I tell you, it’s my turn!”

But she ceased, as though struck by thunder. The aerobike, with wings wide open, was taking flight toward the stars, in a tempestuous wind.

It was done! The thing had shot past her very nose! She thought that she would fall, so great was the pain at her heart.

“No! No!” she gasped, with dilated eyes.

And, suddenly, she understood and uttered a cry of rage!

But she could have shouted, “Murder!” and it would have sounded as the buzzing of a bee amid that explosion of cheers. And the orchestra grew like a flame and the light appeared, increased and shone all over the house.

Lily flung herself back, closed her eyes so as not to see, fled to her dressing-room with a shriek like a wounded beast’s....

She dropped into her chair, stopped up her ears; but the cheers never ceased, kept on increasing, filled the theater with a roar as of thunder! Oh, it seemed to her that her chest was on fire, that they were pounding her heart; that some one was taking her by the hair and banging her head against the walls! And that storm of applause kept on and kept on ... but it wasn’t for her! It was for Jimmy all the time: they had tried it with her, that was all! To see if it worked! And she, she, she who, only just now, was giving herself airs with the others: a poor rag, yes, that was all she was, less than anybody; less than Tom, her old servant, less than Glass-Eye, that idiot, less than Ave Maria, less than a performing dog, less than anything, worse than anything, perhaps! Mad with rage she jumped at her gollywog, pulled down the white-eyed idol—the traitor!—spat on it, crushed it on the floor with her heel, furious, beside herself; and then dropped into her chair again, with her two arms flat on the table, her head between her arms, among the grease-paints, the powder, the overturned box of spangles, which rolled about everywhere and strewed the floor. She felt inclined to bite into her flesh to relieve herself, she clenched her fists and dug her nails into her skin. Oh, she would have liked to die, to die! It was so fierce a longing, so desperate a cry that the force of her prayer ought to have struck her dead where she sat. And suddenly the tears began to flow and she cried and cried, all convulsed with sobs, floored, shipwrecked, done for. She cried and cried, as though stupefied, saw nothing save through a thick veil of water, like a person drowning, sinking. It seemed to her as if the tears would groove her face, for always. Oh, what would she give to be at home, in bed! Never, never again would she have the strength to do a thing. She was done for, buried alive. And that coward of a Jimmy, to obey Harrasford’s order! Oh, the harm he had done her! She would rather have died smashed to a jelly on the stage: she would have suffered less! Oh, to behave like that: to flash so much before her eyes; and then to fling her to the ground! Oh, when she had thought that he loved her and that she loved him also, perhaps! And Lily cried and cried....

Meanwhile, in front, the aerobike was receiving endless applause. The disappearance through the opening, the plunge into space, the star snatched from up above, that piece of theatrical symbolism filled the audience with enthusiasm. The aerobike brought down the house, its success surpassed all expectation, and the Astrarium was opening with a victorious clamor.

“Yes, but at what a cost!” said Jimmy to himself, in spite of the cheers.

And, as soon as he was able to escape, putting off for a few minutes his replies to the cards that poured in—the chairman of the Aero Club, journalists begging for interviews—Jimmy had but one idea, to console Lily for her disappointment of that evening: poor Lily!

His heart was beating very loudly as he went to her dressing-room. Jimmy was no longer the fellow who knew no fear. To fly away on the aerobike, to risk his skin was easy, for him at least; but to face Lily ... to explain to her ... with all those things seething within him ... and, oh, the pain he was causing her! How could he approach her after that? And could he ever get her to love him? Ah, perhaps it would have been better if he had gone and broken his neck in the street, on the pavement! Jimmy was trembling like a child; in his perturbation, he even forgot to knock at the door ... turned the knob ... entered....

Lily heard nothing, seemed crushed into her chair, with her face buried in her right arm folded on the table, while the left hung lifeless by her side. Her whole attitude expressed abject misery, profound despair; she seemed extinguished in a terrifying calmness.

Jimmy, to attract her attention, closed the door noisily. Lily stirred no more than a wax figure: one might have thought her dead.

He shivered; and, stepping forward, leaning over to her, anxiously, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

It was like a spring that is suddenly released! Lily threw up her sorrow-stricken face, down which the tears, mingling with the red paint, flowed like blood, looked at him for a few seconds with a wandering air and then leaped at him, as though she meant to bite him in the face; but her lips shriveled up in silence, nothing came from them; and she crushed Jimmy with an unspeakable look of terror and contempt.

Jimmy did not flinch:

“You must not be angry with me,” he said gently. “I was bound to do it, Lily; I had to save the theater.”

“And get rid of me!” cried Lily, wild-haired, hard-eyed, hoarse-throated, with the tears drying on her red-hot cheeks.

Jimmy was pale as death. Ah, all his dreams, too, were fading away!

“Lily,” he said, in a voice which he strove to make firm, but which trembled with emotion. “I have done my duty to everybody, yourself included! But for me, you would be lying dead at this minute and the Astrarium would be ruined. You were not in a state to appear in public ... this evening ... believe me, Lily. The stage-manager himself....”

Lily lowered her head under his calm gaze....

“But you’ll do it to-morrow,” continued Jimmy, very quickly, “before Pa and Ma! To-morrow and the following days ... and always! Your name will be right at the top of the bill! Do you hear? To-morrow ... and always!”

“But what...? Why...?” asked Lily, as though stupefied.

“Poor Lily,” he replied, gently raising that face all distorted with grief. “Poor little Lily! I have caused you a heap of pain.”

Lily, for her sole answer, gave a convulsive sob; a tear leaped to her eyelids.

“Don’t cry,” whispered Jimmy, “don’t cry any more. It will be your turn to-morrow, before the New Trickers. To-morrow! Every night!”

“Every night?” asked Lily, still incredulous and yet transfigured with hope. “You’re saying that, Jimmy; but....”

“Do you doubt my word, Lily?” he replied, pressing her gently to him. “What, I, your best friend, your only friend ... I who ... haven’t I always loved you, Lily? Do you think I’ve changed?... I love you more than ever I did! I will explain everything later. And you doubt me ... who would give my life for you; yes, life without you means nothing to me,” continued Jimmy, in a stifled voice and clasping Lily in his arms.

Lily quivered in his embrace, hid her blushing features on his breast, where she heard great dull throbs. She trembled from head to foot. Her quickened senses seemed to perceive everything now; the passing indisposition from which she had suffered, without knowing it, the light fumes of the champagne: all that had suddenly gone, was far away; she had never felt more lucid; she saw, she understood and was overcome with delight, overcome with a delight beside which her enthusiasm of the previous day seemed dark and dreary. The ardor of her eighteen years swelled her breast. Success, in any case! To-morrow! And that man was hers, that heart was hers! It was a dream, an enchantment! Her head rolled back, a smile drew up her lips, her eyes, through her tangled curls, seemed all ablaze. Jimmy bent his glowing face over her. Lily, on the point of swooning, raised her lips to his.

Vanished around them the low ceiling, the scratched walls, the shabby rags. Standing on the wretched spangles that strewed the dusty floor, Lily, drunk with joy ... Jimmy, distraught with pride ... seemed like youth and love, in mid-sky, among the stars!