by Joan Wolf
The boys were dressed in white tights and spangles and they took turns vaulting onto Coco’s back, jumping on and dismounting as the horse cantered steadily around the ring. Mathieu went around twice while standing on his hands, and at one point, Albert got onto Mathieu’s shoulders and both of them went around at the same time. It was a pleasing display and the audience appreciated it.
After they had left the ring, Gerard raised his hand. The band music stopped. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Gerard announced. “The Robichon Cirque Equestre is pleased to present Mademoiselle Gabrielle Robichon riding Conversano Nobilia in an equestrian display.”
As Leo watched, Gabrielle and the Lipizzaner trotted into the ring. She rode astride, dressed in a long, full- skirted blue velvet jacket, and the white breeches and high boots she had worn for the Liberty act. Her hair was tied at the nape of her neck and over it she wore a tricorn hat.
As she and Noble halted—perfectly squarely—in the center of the ring, it was as if an intangible something swept through the audience. It was as if girl and horse were able to communicate a kind of finer energy just by their very presence.
The band started to play and Noble picked up a trot. They circled the ring a few times, warming up, and then, as Leo watched, scarcely breathing, the Lippizaner started to passage, a slow, floating trot that was so light, so airy that it seemed to defy gravity. Leo was riveted. Then the passage slowed and the horse stopped advancing at all, trotting in place in the piaffe, his neck arched, his hind legs tucked under him, his hocks bending in a seemingly effortless effort. Then the band tempo picked up and Noble trotted forward, flowing into a half pass, his legs crossing as he went diagonally from corner to corner of the ring.
Leo thought that girl and horse were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. She sat so straight and so still. There was no movement on her part to show that she was giving aids to the horse. They seemed to move together in perfect harmony, going through a series of movements that Leo had once seen executed in Lisbon, but not so perfectly as this.
She made it look so easy, but Leo was in no doubt about the difficulty of what he was seeing. A horse did not change canter leads on every stride easily, nor did he canter a circle keeping his hind legs in one place.
I want to be able to ride like that, Leo thought fiercely.
When the ride was over, the audience’s applause was thunderous. Gabrielle was smiling as she rode by him on Noble.
In the ring, Gerard was announcing, “Next, Mademoiselle Gabrielle Robichon will demonstrate the Airs Above the Ground with Neapolitano Santuzza.”
In a moment, Gabrielle was passing him again, this time leading Sandi, who was saddleless. Gabrielle held a long whip in one hand and a long rein leading to Sandi’s bridle with the other. She was apparently going to guide Sandi from the ground.
Girl and horse established themselves in the middle of the ring and Gerard announced, “First the pesade.”
Gabrielle touched Sandi and he lifted his front two legs off the ground in what looked to Leo to be a controlled rear. The horse kept his hocks bent beneath him and his body formed an angle of forty-five degrees to the ground.
“Note the lowered hocks,” Gerard commented for the audience. “If a horse lifts himself from the ground at an angle of more than forty-five degrees and does not bend Ms hind legs, he is not performing any classical movement, he is simply rearing up.”
Leo applauded heartily.
“Next comes the courbette,” Gerard continued. Once more Sandi rose to a pesade, then he jumped off the ground landing in pesade again, from which he jumped again and then again before his forelegs once more touched the ground.
Louder applause came from the audience.
“And last we have the most difficult jump of all,” Gerard said. “The capriole. It demands a great deal of power and courage from the horse. And now, Neapolitano Santuzza and the capriole.”
As Leo watched, the stallion leaped off the ground, and at the moment when he was at the height of his jump, his body perfectly horizontal to the ground, his forelegs well tucked in, he kicked out vigorously with his hind legs before he landed again on the same spot. The audience erupted in applause.
Leo couldn’t tear his gaze from Gabrielle’s face. The combination of beauty and intense concentration nearly overwhelmed him.
He forced himself to look toward the lieutenant. He was not applauding. Damn the fellow, anyway, Leo thought. At least he is seeing that this is a legitimate circus.
The next act to be announced was Luc Balzac’s. He came in with Coco and proceeded to put on a demonstration that was far more exciting than the one given earlier by Mathieu and Albert. Luc Balzac could ride, Leo thought in reluctant admiration. He looked once more toward the lieutenant, but the man was no longer there.
Leo frowned. I wonder if he’s poking around the wagons? A chill ran down his spine, and while Emma and her dogs came into the ring, Leo slipped out. The field was deserted. He hurried over to the two Robichon wagons and opened the doors to look inside. Nothing looked disturbed.
And no lieutenant.
He looked around again, then returned to the circus tent. Perhaps the lieutenant had just changed his place.
As Leo came in they were setting up the ring for the rope dancers. Sully was causing a bit of a commotion by trying to hang washing on the ropes, but once he had been chased away, the ropes and the safety net were put into position. While this was being done, Leo looked out at the audience.
The lieutenant was back in his old spot.
Maybe he just went out to relieve himself, Leo thought.
Leo watched the lieutenant on and off as Henri, Carlotta and Franz performed a variety of jumps and turns and backward somersaults on the ropes. Then the three of them did something Gerard called the Rivals. Carlotta danced coquettishly on one rope while the two men— rival lovers—struck attitudes, advanced and retired in a mock duel for her love on the other. At the end, Franz, the disappointed lover, fell dramatically off the rope and into the safety net.
The lieutenant kept his place all during the act, and he didn’t move as Gabrielle and Mathieu came into the ring riding Noble and Sandi. While the band played dance music, the two horses performed a pas de deux, moving in perfect harmony with each other, moving together, then apart, each horse executing the same moves, each one a mirror image of the other. It was beautiful.
Next Coco came in and Gerard started him cantering around the ring. As Leo watched, a drunken countryman suddenly lurched into the ring from the audience and proceeded to try to mount Coco’s back.
Leo jumped to his feet, prepared to grab the fellow and throw him out. Antonio Laurent grabbed the skirt of his jacket and said, “Non, Leo. It is part of the act, it is all right.”
Feeling more than slightly stupid, Leo sat down again.
As the finale for the show, Luc was joined by Gabrielle on Noble, Mathieu on Sandi and Albert on Shaitan. The four cantered around the ring to a rousing tune, waving at the audience, and when they left the ring the performance was over.
“How did you like it?” Pierre asked Leo, as the band put down its instruments.
“I thought the horses were amazing,” Leo said honestly. “And all the performers are very talented.”
Pierre smiled, pleased. “It is a very good little circus. We don’t have the spectacular effects of the permanent circuses, but the quality of the acts is very high.”
Albert came into the ring. “Oh, there you are, Leo. Gabrielle says you can help to clear the people out—you know, direct traffic for the wagons and such.”
But Leo was already on his feet, heading outside to keep an eye on the lieutenant.
Ten
In between shows the horses were brushed and fed hay and the performers dined off wine and bread and cheese in the empty circus tent. Then the new audience came in and they did the whole thing all over again.
One of the things Leo noticed as the day advanced was the easy camaraderie that existe
d among the members of the circus. It was evident at lunch, as they talked about the performance, and it was evident in the way they helped each other out before the second performance started.
He commented on this to Gabrielle as they drove back to the hotel after the second show was over and all the animals had been attended to.
“We are like a big family,” she said to him. “Many of the acts have been with us for years and we all know each other very well.”
“Luc Balzac hasn’t been with you that long.”
“No. He took Andre’s place when Andre was killed, so he has only been with us for a year and a half.”
He found himself asking, “How long were you married?”
“We were married for eight months.”
Her response was polite, but he got the definite impression that she did not want to talk about Andre. He could understand that. He was a private man himself. Yet he could not help feeling oddly jealous. He dismissed the thought. Obligingly he changed the subject. “Is the circus your only source of income?”
She shot him a look. “Yes.”
“Except for the money you are receiving for transferring this gold.”
“That money will go to send Albert to art school.”
He didn’t mask his surprise. “Are you planning to do that?”
“Yes.” She sounded very determined. “Albert is very talented and he loves to draw above all else. He loves it more than he loves the circus. My father could never see that, but I do. Albert should go to art school. He may have it in him to be a great painter.”
He said slowly, “You are a good sister.”
She shrugged. “I am all Albert has left. I cannot fail him.”
“You would miss Mm in the circus.”
“Yes, but we will survive without Mm.” Her tone signalled an end to the discussion.
He looked at the small, delicate figure sitting next to him on the wagon seat. She carried a large responsibility on those slender shoulders, he thought.
“Do you think I might get a chance to ride one of your Lipizzaners?” he asked.
It was her turn to look surprised. She turned her head to look at him. Then her large brown eyes were serious. “They are not easy to ride. They respond to the slightest shift of body weight. If you even increase the weight on one of your seat bones by a scintilla, you will get a re-action.”
He thought about that for a while. Then he said, “How would I go about learning to ride like you?”
She gave him a brilliant smile and he found himself wanting to smile back. She said, “You were impressed with my horses, yes?”
“Very impressed,” he said. “And I was very impressed with you. You were so still. You didn’t appear to be giving the horse any direction at all.”
“That is how it should be,” she said. “Horse and rider should be in such perfect harmony that they work as one. To be a centaur is the aim of all good classical riders.”
He smiled faintly. “Were there female centaurs?”
“There must have been, otherwise there would have been no centaurs at all,” she retorted.
“Well,” he said, “actually, there weren’t.”
She laughed.
“But my question was serious,” he said. “How would I go about learning to ride like you?”
“You would need to learn on a school horse. That is how Papa taught me. First, you need to be lunged so that you develop your seat. Papa would always lunge his pupils when he ran the king’s manege. Even advanced riders got lunged sometimes.”
He had returned his gaze to the horses in front of him. They appeared to be slowing down and he gave them a little chirrup.
“Do you have any school horses?” he asked.
“You could ride Coco, I suppose. But I don’t like to give my horses any more work. They do enough with the circus. Coco especially goes around in a circle enough.”
He sighed. “You’re right, of course.” He found himself more disappointed than he imagined.
She smiled at him again. “You really liked my Lipizzaners, didn’t you?”
“They were the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”
“Riding them is the highlight of my day.”
“You are a wonderful rider.”
She nodded, accepting her due. “Papa taught me well.”
He looked at her thoughtfully.
“Here we are at the hotel,” she said. “Let’s get changed and eat. I’m starved!”
Gabrielle watched Leo as the dinner conversation swirled around her. He was not part of it. He answered courteously enough when a remark was addressed to him, but otherwise he was quiet. She thought that he carried himself as if there was a little space around him that no one could get into.
He sticks out in this circus, she thought worriedly. He acts like an aristocrat. That could be dangerous.
“You were very good today, ma mie,” Henri was telling Carlotta. “I was inspired to light for you.”
Carlotta smiled and turned to her brother-in-law. “That was a spectacular fall you took. I am glad you didn’t break your neck.”
Franz laughed. “The audience loves a spectacular fall.”
“Gabrielle, I could jump over more horses than we’re doing now,” Gianni said. “Do you think we could bring my two carriage horses into the ring?”
She tamed her attention away from Leo and thought for a minute. “If you put them last,” she said finally. “If you don’t make it I don’t want you landing on my horses’ backs.”
“I’ll make it,” he said confidently. “I practiced over the winter.”
“You’re very quiet, Leo,” Luc said a little truculently. “Surely you have something more to say about the circus than that it was very good.”
Leo looked at him. “What more do you want me to say?”
“You could be a little more specific,” Luc challenged.
“I thought all the acts were very accomplished,” Leo said. “You are all very talented.”
The words were all right, Gabrielle thought, but the polite, even tone was wrong.
“Thanks so much,” Luc said sarcastically.
Gabrielle thought it was time to intervene. “Leo was so impressed that he wants to ride a Lipizzaner.”
Mathieu, who was drinking a glass of wine, looked at him. “You have to be trained to ride one of ours.”
“So Gabrielle told me.”
“How well do you ride, Leo?” Albert asked.
Leo said, “I ride very well—for an Englishman.”
Everyone laughed.
Gabrielle said with a smile, “Don’t worry, I will teach you to ride over the winter, cheri.”
He gave her a quick look, her endearment clearly taking him by surprise. Then he smiled back. He had a wonderful smile. He should use it more often, Gabrielle thought.
“I will hold you to that promise,” he said.
After dinner, most of the group decided to return to the cafe they had frequented the night before. Gabrielle and Leo went with them—Mathieu had brought the grooms their dinner earlier. It was a pleasant visit until it became obvious that Sully was drunk and getting drunker by the minute.
“Oh, dear,” Gabrielle said with distress. “I was hoping he was over this.”
“Frankly, I was surprised you had him back,” Gianni said. “You can’t rely on him.”
“He has never missed a performance,” Gabrielle said defensively.
“Maybe not,” Pierre said. “But there’s always a first time.”
Gabrielle leaned over to look the clown in the face. “Sully, do you feel all right? Do you want to go back to the hotel?”
The clown turned his mournful brown eyes on Gabrielle. “Not feeling too good,” he said.
“I bet he started before dinner,” Pierre said. “He hasn’t had that much to drink here.”
“He was drinking in the wagon after the last performance,” said Paul, who shared a wagon with Sully.
“We’ll have to ge
t him back to the hotel so he can sleep it off,” Gabrielle said. “Sully, can you walk?”
“Walk? Shertainly.” The clown tried to stand up but had to lean on the table to catch his balance.
“I’ll take him, Gabrielle,” Leo said, quickly reaching for Sully.
She gave him a grateful look. “Thank you, Leo. I’ll come with you.”
Leo put an arm across Sully’s shoulders and under his arms and steadied him on his feet. Then he began to walk him toward the door. Gabrielle followed with Colette at her heels.
When they reached the hotel Gabrielle held the door open for Leo and Sully to go through.
“What’s your room number, Sully?” Leo asked him.
Sully looked at him in confusion.
“I’ll go and find out from the landlady,” Gabrielle said.
Gabrielle started to take off his shoes.
“I’ll do that,” Leo said. “Why don’t you go back to our room and wait for me?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Gabrielle went. She was sitting on the bed, her hands folded in her lap, a frown on her face, when Leo came in. Colette had already established herself at the foot of the bed.
“He’s completely castaway,” Leo said. “Does this happen often?”
She sighed. “At least once a week last year. I hope to God it doesn’t happen more frequently this year. The others don’t like it.”
He sat down beside her. “Why did you hire him again if he has this problem?”
“What would happen to him if I didn’t hire him? No one else would take him.”
“Why should he be your responsibility?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Because he has worked for us for seven years. He is like family. You don’t turn your back on your family, no matter what they do.”
Leo gave her a strange, unreadable look. “I gather he was not always like this?”
What was that look about? Gabrielle thought. But his face had returned to normal and so she answered his question. “It started last year, after his daughter died. She was a pantomime actor with Astleys in Paris. Sully hasn’t been the same since.”