It was already late in the day. She made enquiries from various shopkeepers and people on the street and gradually made her way towards the circus grounds. Dusk came and then darkness and she was still plodding along. Fog had set in late in the day and now the streets were murky, frightening labyrinths. She tried to follow the directions given her but lost her way several times. The few street lamps burned faintly in the fog casting their glow only a short distance.
She felt like bursting into tears but she refused to give in to her distress. At last she reached Covent Garden and saw the lighted tents on the opposite side of the street. She made her way towards the circus with renewed hope. Just as she reached the fringe of a crowd listening to a barker on a platform orating about a mermaid to be seen inside she felt her satchel rudely snatched from her hand.
With a cry of dismay and outrage she turned to see three dirty-faced lads running off with the satchel. She ran after them and managed to seize the one who was holding it. At this he and his companions began to pummel her. She fought back and would not give up the satchel.
One of the lads uttered a loud curse and hit her squarely across the face. She fell back and let go of the satchel. The three shouted with glee and started off. But they didn’t go more than a few steps.
Their way was barred by the stout Madame Goubert who demanded of them in a raucous voice, “Just what do you scum think you’re up to?”
The lad with the satchel cursed again and tried to push past her. It was a signal for her to reach out and lift him by the scuff of the neck and heave him about twenty feet in the air. The crowd who had gathered roared with laughter and the other two youths ran wildly off, leaving their companion still unconscious in the street.
The stout woman picked up the satchel and came over to Mary who had just struggled to her feet. “This is yours, I believe,” Madame Goubert said. And then recognizing Mary the big woman gasped, “The little girl from the stagecoach!”
“I am that same girl,” Mary said taking the satchel. “I have fallen upon misfortune. I badly need help and I’ve been looking for you.”
“Glad to help you, dearie,” the big woman said. “But just now I’m due back in my tent to perform my act. You come along and watch the show for nothing.”
She accompanied the stout woman into the largest of the several tents. There was a square in the center of it roped off and a crowd of people were gathered around the ropes. Madame Goubert proudly took her place in the middle of the roped area while Mary stood outside with the strong woman’s audience.
Madame Goubert went through her performance of lifting a huge table with several people standing on it, lifting various other heavy objects with her teeth and tossing them several feet away. She finally allowed an anvil weighing four hundred pounds to be placed on her stomach as she lay flat on her back. Two male assistants pounded the anvil with sledge hammers and the stout woman did not even flinch. She stood up and bowed at the finish of the act and received wild applause from her satisfied audience.
After the people had left the tent Madame Goubert sat down in a big wooden chair in a private room at the rear of the tent protected from the main area by a wall of canvas. There was a table with a candle on it and some glasses and a jug of beer. Mary sat in the one plain chair by the table.
Madame Goubert poured herself some beer. “Care for some, dearie?”
“No, thank you,” she said.
“If I hadn’t come along as I did those three rascals would have had your satchel,” the madame said.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” breathed Mary.
“What happened to the fine position which you came to London to take?” Madame Goubert asked as she sipped her beer.
Mary felt in fairness she had to tell her staunch friend the truth. With bowed head and burning cheeks she faltered through an account of what had happened at Benjamin Square.
When she’d finished, Madame Goubert said indignantly, “What a villain! I’d like to have my hands on that young man’s throat.”
“I’m afraid I made it all easy for him,” Mary admitted.
“Because you were an innocent,” the strong woman said. “You poor dear!”
“Now I need to find employment of some sort.”
“Of course you do,” Madame Goubert said. “But you’re welcome to stay with me as long as need be. I want to help you.”
“I don’t want charity. I’d prefer work,” Mary said.
Madame Goubert poured herself a second beer. “You might act as my assistant. Or you could get one of the Gypsies to teach you palm reading and have a try at that.”
“I’m not sure I’d be any good at it,” she worried.
The big woman nodded. “I know. And this is not any life for you. You deserve something much better.”
“I’ve lost any feeling of pride,” she said. “No work is too menial for me. I’ll try anything. Even the palm reading.”
“Do you know anyone else in London?” she asked.
“The Waddingtons,” she said. “You remember. The theatrical couple who were on the stage with us.”
“Of course!” the strong woman exclaimed. “Now they were most well-mannered. I’m sure they could find you a more proper occupation than you’d find here in the circus.”
“They’ve moved,” Mary lamented. “I don’t know where to find them. They’re playing in some London theatre and living near it.”
“Not too much to go on,” Madame Goubert speculated. “There are so many theatres in London.”
“I know,” she agreed. “I saw your name on a poster and I came here to find you.”
“And you did exactly right,” the big woman said. “You will stay the night with me and in the morning I’ll take you to Pilkington. He’s the owner of the circus and has plenty of contacts. He’s the one to help you! I’m sure of it! Pilkington!”
So she went to bed in the room behind the tent on a makeshift cot leaving her future in the hands of a man whom she had never met. Madame Goubert in her own bed opposite snored loudly all during the early hours of the night. And Mary, remembering Emma, thought the strong woman would have made a bad roommate for the redhead.
Next morning the sun was shining. Mary breakfasted with the massive Madame Goubert and then the strong woman took her to another tent. Here, they found a short man with a brown beard seated at a table covered with handbills and smoking a large cheroot as he folded the yellow papers.
He halted in his task as Mary and her companion entered and rose to his feet. “Good morning, Madame,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “We did very well last night.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Madame Goubert said. “I’ve come about this girl, Miss Mary Scott.” And she explained to him about Mary’s need to find the Waddingtons.
Mr. Pilkington listened and tugged at his beard. “Well, now, I suppose they could be located. It will take a deal of questioning. I’d have to assign one of my poster men to the task.”
“I’ll be glad to pay whatever it costs,” Madame Goubert told the circus owner.
Mr. Pilkington gave a chuckle. “I can see you are serious about this, Madame. I’ve never known you to be careless with your money.”
“This is important to me,” Madame Goubert said.
Mr. Pilkington studied Mary with interest. “You have a nice face and figure, Miss Scott. Have you ever considered joining a circus? I presently need a young lady like yourself for bareback riding.”
“I have owned a horse,” Mary said. “But I’ve always ridden side saddle.”
“It would not take you long to learn the ropes,” Mr. Pilkington said.
Madame Goubert shook her head. “I don’t see the circus as right for her. She’s much too genteel. She would do better with the Waddingtons. You find them for her.”
“I’ll try, good lady,” Mr. Pilkington said. “I can promise no more than that.” And he placed the cheroot back in his mouth.
It was two days before they heard from th
e dapper, bearded showman. He came to Madame Goubert’s tent with a smile on his face, removed the familiar cheroot from his mouth and announced, “I’ve found them!”
“Glory be!” Madame Goubert exclaimed. “Where are they?”
“Playing a season of Shakespeare at the Maiden Lane Theatre and living in lodgings in Tattle Street nearby. They’re doing very well. Drawing some of the largest audiences in the West End.”
“Did your man tell them about Mary?” the big woman wanted to know.
“Yes,” Pilkington said. “They were delighted and are now waiting for her!”
Madame Goubert beamed at Mary. Her many-chinned face glowed with happiness as she said, “I’ll engage a carriage and have you sent to them in style!”
“There’s really no need,” Mary protested.
“I want to do it,” the strong woman said.
Pilkington smiled at Mary and told her, “May I say that if this doesn’t turn out well there will always be a place for you with Pilkington’s Circus.”
“That is most kind of you, sir,” she said sincerely.
The strong woman hailed a hansom cab and after giving Mary a warm hug saw her installed in the carriage. Mary waved farewell to the big woman and felt a genuine sadness in leaving her. Now that she was on her way to the Waddingtons, the nightmare experience at Benjamin Square was already beginning to fade from her mind.
The West End was bustling and not at all shabby. The house before which the hansom cab halted was two storeys high and looked rather new. It was of yellow brick with gray stone trim. Tall windows with neat white curtains at them faced the street. The cabby helped her out and carried her satchel to the door.
Before she had a chance to knock the door was opened by an excited Hector and Peg Waddington. They came out to greet her like doting parents. When she’d been embraced they led her inside to a comfortable drawing room.
“These are our new lodgings,” Peg Waddington said proudly. “And the theatre is just around the corner.”
“We have been doing well,” Hector Waddington confided. Mary noted that his clothes were elegant, no longer shabby-genteel.
Peg Waddington’s dress was also expensive-looking and in the latest style. The older woman begged Mary, “Do sit down and tell us what has been happening to you.”
Her cheeks burned again. She said quietly, “I have not been as fortunate as you. Things turned out badly. I was placed in a compromising position by the elder son of the house and dismissed because of it.”
“Sir John Blake’s son did such a cruel thing to a young country girl like you!” Peg said in anger. “I have never heard of such injustice!”
“The way of the world,” Hector Waddington said soberly. “I have heard rumors of Edward Blake. From all accounts he is a most lecherous young man!”
“This surely proves it,” his wife said, still angry. She turned to Mary. “In any case you ought not to have settled for being a servant.”
“There was nothing else,” she said.
Peg said, “And now you must find work of some sort.”
“Yes,” she said. “I hoped you might know some dressmaker catering to theatre people. I sew very well. I’d be willing to work hard!”
“We know that,” the fatherly Hector Waddington agreed. He glanced at his wife. “What do you think?”
“I say. yes,” the attractive Peg Waddington said.
Hector cleared his throat and with his hands clasped behind him told Mary, “It is one of our regrets that Peg and I do not have any children. It has always been our dream to train a son or daughter for the stage. We would like to look on you as our daughter. Peg will train you how to move like the greatest of ladies. I will teach you how to speak Shakespearean verse, and also how to handle dialogue of the theatre of today. We will make you a fine lady and an actress! What do you say?”
She was overwhelmed. “It is too much! I may not have any ability.”
Peg Waddington shook her head. “We have watched and listened. We are both sure you possess talent and you undoubtedly have great beauty.”
“I can’t let you give me so much!” she protested.
Hector Waddington smiled. “You will be doing something for us. And you will earn your keep by first appearing as an extra and later in small roles. When you have completed your training you will take your place beside us in the younger female leading roles which dear Peg can no longer attempt.”
“We need someone like you,” the older woman said with a warm smile. “Do you accept?”
“It is like a beautiful dream come true after a horrid nightmare,” she said with a sob. “How can I refuse?”
Peg took her in her arms and comforted her. “We shall match happiness for every tear and every torment that wicked young man caused you to suffer.”
So Mary was introduced to the world of the theatre. And almost instantly she knew it was what she had always wanted. She showed much talent and both Peg and Hector Waddington spent long hours tutoring her. She met the other members of their company and found them interesting, warm-hearted people. They lived almost solely for their work and the walls of the theatre were the dimensions of their world.
The season at the Maiden Lane Theatre was a great success and it seemed that the company would play all through the summer. She came to love the great theatre with its vast pit, dress circle and gallery. One of her first appearances was as a walk-on in “Hamlet” in which she played a lady-in-waiting to the Queen.
Peg Waddington was magnificent as the Queen and she had Mary understudy her in the role. While Mary was young for the part and really imitated the star rather than creating her own conception of the role, Peg congratulated her.
Hector was a fine Hamlet though somewhat old for the part, and a young man named Jeffrey Hunt played Horatio. Mary watched him every evening, fascinated by his performance and thought him one of the best actors in the company. She had met him but found him a rather shy aloof young man, so they didn’t talk much.
Then one evening Peg was suddenly stricken ill with food poisoning and Mary had to appear as the Queen. One of the older women in the company helped her with her make-up and costume.
Mary worried, “Surely others must know the part! Why trust me?”
The older actress smiled at her wearily. “I know the lines, myself. And I dare to say there are at least four or five of us in the comapny who could do the part. But Hector wants to try you out. If you do well tonight it could mean big things for your future.”
So, trembling, she found herself on the stage playing the Queen of Denmark. In spite of her youth, she so cleverly imitated Peg’s style that her performance was convincing. Not only did she receive a warm round of applause from the theatre patrons, more importantly her fellow actors in the company congratulated her.
Mary smiled. “I was just a one night freak attraction,” she told them.
Hector placed an arm around her and told her, “Not at all. Beginning next week you will do the role of Portia in the Merchant of Venice.”
This meant she was to be trusted with leading roles! And after only six months of hard work under the direction of her gifted foster parents. She was leaving the theatre that night in the company of Hector Waddington when Jeffrey Hunt came out the stage door and joined them.
The young actor smiled and asked Hector, “May I invite Mary to have an ale with me at the pub? I think she deserves it and I’d promise to bring her straight home.”
Hector hesitated and glanced at her. “Would you like to celebrate?”
She felt her old fears returning. She gave her foster father a troubled look. “Do you think it would be proper?”
Hector nodded, “I trust Jeffrey as I would my own son. You will be safe with him.”
“Very well then,” she said, smiling at the waiting Jeffrey.
So that was how she came to be seated with him in the noisy, jovial atmosphere of the “Lion and Unicorn Pub” next to the theatre. A number of other members of the company
were there enjoying their tankards of ale. Many of the audience had also stopped by to have a friendly drink on their way home. It was a pleasant place and Mary found herself able to relax in spite of the noise.
Jeffrey took her aside so they could converse without shouting. With the rowdy good-humored singing and the loud talk and laughter in the background he was able to quietly tell her, “You were excellent tonight. You’ll be lovely as Portia!”
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
H is sober blue eyes were fixed on her. And she saw that he was much more attractive than she’d realized. Not in a showy fashion like Edward Blake but in a manner which showed character. He went on to say, “I’ve been fascinated by you ever since you joined the company.”
“I can’t imagine why,” she said.
“Because you are beautiful,” he said. “And you have talent.”
“You offer me too many compliments,” she said. “You make me wary of you.”
“You needn’t be,” Jeffrey Hunt said with a smile. “Alter all we are fellow workers, not strangers.”
She realized this was true. She said, “I have admired your acting.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t think I can touch someone like Hector. But I plan to start my own company soon and see how it turns out.”
“I wish you every good fortune,” she said.
And then he launched into a long account of his plans for assembling his own company. She listened with avid interest, aware of how much they had in common. Finally it was time for him to see her home. He escorted her from the pub to the door of the house where she lived with the Waddingtons.
Standing in the moonlight facing her, he said. “Let us vow always to be friends.”
“I would like that,” she said, her eyes shining.
“I’ll seal the bargain,” he said quietly. And with some tenderness he kissed her. Then, suddenly shy, he quickly turned and left her. She went inside filled with a thrilling new happiness. Later, she was to decide, that this was the moment she had lost her heart to him.
Vintage Love Page 147