I stared at the large carved wooden clock on the wall. Willing the hands to move by the sheer intensity of my gaze. The minute hand inched forward and I smiled triumphantly flattering myself that even time moved for me. Then I remembered that one minute didn't even make a dent it my study time. Frustrated I stared down at the Latin book laying on the desk in front of me. My tutor, Mr. Herbert, was watching me. I guessed that he was trying to decide whether or not he should let me be done for the day and was relieved when he finally approached my desk. "Seeing as you are having a hard time concentrating, Master Francis, you may go. You will have to make up for it tomorrow though." He added as an afterthought. But I didn't wait long enough to hear it. I was out the door and in my room in a flash. Flopping down on my bed, I closed my eyes and let my thoughts take over.
In just a few hours we would be going to the theater. The Theater Royal on Drury Lane to be exact. I had been to Covent Garden a few times but only once before had I gone to the Theater Royal. I love the theater because everything seems so much more exciting on stage then in real life. My mother used to be an actress before she married my father so I guess I got my love of the theater from her. Tonight there was to be a special performance by a musical protégé Pedro Hawkins. Lizzie was looking forward to hearing him play but I was more interested in what was going on behind the scenes. Father had never before permitted us to go back stage but I was hoping that I might be able to convince him this time.
There was a knock at the door and I jumped. Realizing that it was now almost dark outside I sat up, "Come in," I called. Lizzie entered the room and stood in front of me. "Dinner is ready," she said, "and immediately afterwards we will be leaving for the theater. So you better hurry." I stood up to get ready and she quietly slipped out of the room.
My father, Lizzie, and I climbed into the carriage. Or really it was me who was climbing. Lizzie entered with grace and my father with great dignity. But in my excitement to get to the theater I seemed to have forgotten how to enter a carriage. My father opened his mouth to reprimand me but decided against it and closed it again.
On arriving at the Theater Royal, the owner, Mr. Sheridan, came to greet us. "Ah! The Duke of Avon! You are most welcome sir." He bowed and turned to me and my sister, "Lord Francis, Lady Elizabeth, it's a pleasure to have you at the Theater Royal." I bowed and Lizzie curtsied, then we were led inside the theater. The outside of the theater was a little worn looking, although in the dark you couldn't really tell, but on the inside it was quite spectacular. We followed Mr. Sheridan through a narrow corridor and up a flight of stairs. He stopped in front of a door and opened it. Stepping into the manager's box he exclaimed said jokingly, "keeping my seat warm for me, were you, Cat?" I saw a small red haired girl tumble out of the big chair in the middle of the box. She stood in the corner of the room eyeing us warily. Her green eyes came to rest on Lizzie's dress. Hers was worn and patched and I guessed that he was wondering what it would be like to own something so fine. Then looking at Mr. Sheridan she said quietly, "Yes sir," with a curtsie. "Run along then, make room for Lord Francis and Lady Elizabeth," he said shooing her away. Immediately she rushed out the door. I watched her disappear down the hall and wondered where she was going and who she was. I had never really seen anyone from the lower classes so close up before.
We had arrived in the middle of the fifth act. I was a little upset that we hadn't seen the whole thing but I sat down next to Lizzie and enjoyed the play anyways. The play ended and during the time before the last farce began I looked down at the pit and watched all the people. Near the back of the room I saw a little patch of red under the glow of a lamp. Taking a closer look I realized that it was a girl, probably the same one that I had seen in here earlier, who was hanging onto a pillar in order to get a good view over everyone's heads. I smiled then looked back at the stage where the curtain opened revealing and empty stage. Angry voices from the crowd called out until music started playing. They calmed down a bit listening to the exotic music. Then a long rope with a small anchor at its end tumbled down from the ceiling. You could hear the creaking of ropes and shouting as a hot air balloon appeared, floating above the stage. My eyes grew wide with wonder and the crowd gasped. The balloon was smoothly lowered to the ground and the actor, who I knew to be Mr. Andrews, jumped out. The crowd cheered and clapped calling "Encore!" Mr. Andrews raised his hand for silence, "I am one John Smith, a poor English balloonist. I earn an honest living by offering rides in my craft in Green Park in that greatest of cities, London. But one day as I mounted in my balloon, I was blown by a sudden wind to the east. I wonder to what fair country I have been carried? I shall explore before I return." He emphasized the word return and the peopled murmured happily. The farce was simple but funny. The palace guards threaten the stranger whose has landed in the harem of the Great Mogul (played by a Mr. Kemble). He asks the Mogul, who is a man of learning and mercy, to spare him. The Mogul agrees, in return for a ride in the balloon. "And now, I will show you the greatest wonder of my kingdom. My son and heir will entertain you before you depart." Says the Great Mogul, clapping his hands. Two slaves appear, carrying a chest built to look like the towers of an eastern palace. They lift the lid and two fountains of white sparks came pouring out. The Prince, a young black boy, leapt out lightly onto center stage. He began to play on a violin that seemed to appear from nowhere. The beautiful sound seemed to put everybody in a trance, including myself, and when he stopped there was complete silence until the crowd erupted into applause. I jumped up and cheered loudly with the rest. My father gave me a stern look and I had to be content with just clapping. He played another faster song and ended when it became too fast for the crowd to keep time to.
When the theater was finally quiet enough for the play to resume John Smith (Mr. Andrews) jumped back into the balloon and called out, "Farewell! See you in Green Park!" I waited in anticipation for the balloon to rise back up in the air but it didn't move. The young prince suddenly thrust his violin into the Great Mogul's hands and jumped onto the balloon. Climbing up the ropes expertly he soon disappeared in the ceiling. I wondered what was happening and whether or not this was part of the play. "Look my son goes to ask the gods to allow the balloon of the Christian barbarian to return to his damp island," called the Great Mogul. A few minutes later the prince came gliding down the ropes and landed lightly by the Great Mogul who asked, "Are the gods content to let this heathenish contraption rise again?" The prince nodded and the Mogul cried, "then farewell stranger." The balloon rose back up in the air and I followed it with my eyes until it disappeared.
From somewhere in the back near where I had seen the red haired girl, the people began to call "Bravo Pedro!" and other praises until the boy was pushed onstage to take his own bow.
Lizzie turned to our father, "Oh! Please father, let us go meet him! May I invite him to play for us?" Father looked at her and smiled. "Of course, I would like to congratulate the boy myself," then turning to Mr. Sheridan he asked, "Would it be alright if we met the actors?" Mr. Sheridan smiled brightly and opened the door saying, "Right this way. I will lead you to them."
Finally! I was going back stage! I couldn't wait to see all of the people in costume and the props and sets. I hoped that I would get to ride in the balloon.
The Green Room, where all of the actresses and actors had gathered, was packed. It was hot and loud but I didn't notice, the many costumes and the scenery fascinated me. "Ladies and Gentlemen," said Mr. Sheridan loudly, the room became quiet "I have the great honor of presenting a very special visitor to you. The Duke of Avon expressed the desire of personally conveying his appreciation of tonight's performance to you all." Father stepped forward and clearing his throat said, "As my honorable friend here says, I thought you excelled yourselves tonight—none more so than our little African. Where is he? My children in particular would like to meet him."
Pedro was pushed forward by someone in the crowd. He bowed before my father who exclaimed, "An unforgettable debut! Well done!" Then Mr. Sheridan brought him to stand in front of me and my sister.
After asking a few questions about the theater, which he unfortunately could not answer as well as I would have liked, I left the rest of the talking to my sister. Lizzie was standing quietly listening to Pedro's story about how he saved the balloon and people began talking again. I shifted from foot to foot eagerly looking at everything in sight. Standing by the door watching us I spotted the red haired girl. I grinned at her and elbowing Lizzie said, "Look its Sheridan's Cat, Lizzie. I wondered what had become of her." The girl evidently heard me for immediately she tried to slip away. But Pedro was too quick for her and grabbed her arm, dragging her in front of us he said, "Allow me to introduce you to her." Then addressing me "You say, my Lord, that you want to know about the theater; well, here is our resident expert." He said waiving his hand at her with a flourish. She blushed and curtsied quickly.
I was surprised to hear that she lived at the theater and eyed her curiously. "So, Miss…?" asked Lizzie. "Miss Catherine Royal," she said in a tone that told me that she didn't use her full name often. Smiling Lizzie asked, "Miss Royal, what do you do at the theater?"
"Do you sing? Do you play?" I asked eagerly.
She hesitated. "She writes, o yes, the first production of her pen will soon be on all good bookstands—a story of mystery and intrigue from a child prodigy. She is a bookseller's dream, a gift to the journals!" Said Pedro.
"Well, I am impressed! Will it be full of banditi and haunted castles?" asked Lizzie.
"Or highwaymen and thief catchers?" I asked.
Miss Royal smiled, "Oh no, nothing like that. It is set here, in Drury Lane and will go from the lowest ranks of society to the highest, from the gangs and barrow boys to the barons and beauties. My themes will be—," here she paused, searching for the right words "the wickedness of treason, the sting of revenge, and the noble disinterestedness of love, all set behind the scenes."
"Excellent!" I cried, clapping my hands, "And what is it to be called?"
Again Miss Royal hesitated and Pedro spoke up. "The Diamond of Drury Lane." She stared at him angrily, but Lizzie didn't notice and said, "That sounds wonderful. Perhaps you and Mr. Hawkins would accept an engagement to entertain a gathering of our friends next Friday—if you can be spared from your other duties that is?"
Hesitantly Miss Royal asked, "What kind of engagement?"
"Mr. Hawkins to play, of course, and you to read us a chapter of your most interesting work." Rplied Lizzie mater-of-factly.
"Capital Idea!" I said. I had the feeling that Miss Royal's story would be just like the kind of adventure that I wanted.
Pedro quickly accepted and Lizzie made a note in her small note book saying, "Then we will expect you at you around six."
"But…" said Miss Royal. She was interrupted by Pedro who also stepped on her toes to stop her from speaking, "What Miss Royal means to say is 'thank you, but where exactly should we come?'"
Just thinking of home made me tired and I stifled a yawn while answering, "Grosvenor square. South side. You can't miss it." Apparently this did not sound so dull to Miss Royal for her eyes grew wide in amazement. Pedro said with a bow, "We will willingly accept your gracious invitation."
Lizzie began searching the room for Father and when she caught his eye he came over to us. From his unsteady walk and flushed face I knew he had been enjoying the champagne. "Come along my dears time you were in your beds." He said. I rolled my eyes, he was always making us go to bed before I was tired so I would spend my evenings staring out of my bedroom window for hours. "Did you get what you want Lizzie?"
"Indeed Papa, more. Miss Royal has also agreed to entertain us." She replied.
My Father looked at Miss Royal skeptically. Afraid that either he would not allow her to come or that he would scare her away, I said quickly, "She writes the most wonderful stories sir." He exclaimed, "Oh? A writer is she? How extraordinary for a girl of her class! I will be very interested to hear more about this. Perhaps you need a patron to get published, young lady? I am all for encouraging the lower orders to rise above the disadvantages of their station in life—as long as it is consistent with womanly virtues of course." "I can vouch for Miss Royal, your grace. I expect it can be arranged for her to leave a sample of her work when we come on Friday so that you may persue it at your leisure." Said Pedro. "Excellent, till Friday then." Said my father, leading Lizzie to the door. I lagged behind trying to store as many of the interesting sites in my head as possible. I was a little upset that we hadn't gotten to look around more but I hoped that I could ask Miss Royal if she could give me a tour sometime when she came on Friday.