Roland Pertwee

“ In the hearts of provincial playgoers there were still warm places for Eliphalet Cardomay, and the rich cadences of his voice never failed to arouse strange emotions and irrepressible yearnings in the bosoms of impressionable young ladies, who wrote and confided their admiration with surpassing regularity and singular lack of reserve.
To his own company he was always courteous and considerate, but a trifle remote. He wrapped himself about in mystery, and as no one knew exactly how to take him very few made the attempt.
“The public man should always be an enigma.” ”

“ Just then one of her many admirers came down the corridor. He was a smooth-haired, self-satisfied looking fellow, who played the Second Player.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said. “We shall have to go on in a minute.”
Eliphalet moved away and left them together.
“You are a rotter, Morny, to talk to that old blighter and leave me in the lurch.”
“He’s a duck,” said Mornice, “and I love him.”
“I think you love everyone except me.”
“Darling,” she exclaimed with outstretched arms, “I love you to distraction. Without you the world would be a desert track, or tract, whichever it is.” ”

“ Like the martyrs of old, Eliphalet lived his ideals and was ready to uphold them by any sacrifice, as the succeeding episode goes to demonstrate.
No first-class provincial touring company need despise the Pier Pavilion at Brestwater-super-Mare. It boasts a stage of bold proportions, a capacious be-mirrored and luxuriously-upholstered auditorium and a façade that compels instant admiration. The design, a happy mixture of all the exhibition buildings which have ever sprung into existence, combined with a strong vein of Moorish architecture, is a triumph of skill and ingenuity. ”

“ And he flourished a wad of notes before Bulmore’s hungry eyes.
With all the will in the world, the old fellow could not help wishing his friend would be a trifle less arrogant about his finances. It is a severe test on a man who has nothing in his pockets to resist envying one who has so much, especially when he knows that but for a flash of generosity some of that money would have been his own.
Eliphalet Cardomay might not always have shown genius in his portrayal of emotions, but he understood them very thoroughly, notwithstanding. ”

“ And he made his way to the stage.
By a Herculean effort he struggled through Act II. His voice was a shade thick—his gait a thought unsteady—his rendering distinctly heterodox; but the audience was mainly composed of simple, uninitiated folk who accepted what was placed before them without much questioning. They had been assured for three weeks past, on every hoarding in the city, that Eliphalet Cardomay was a great actor. And since the ways of the great are ever incomprehensible, it behove them, as groundlings, to give genius its due and applaud exceedingly at the end of the act. ”

“ He scarcely knew how to take that, but he tried:
“D’you want me to be original?”
“If you can’t be natural,” she said.
“If I were natural,” said Ronald, with a deep breath, “I should ask you to marry me—when I’ve got on and have a good position. Will you?”
“Well, come, Ronnie,” said Mornice, who was used to protestations of love but a stranger to proposals of marriage; “it’s a sporting offer, isn’t it?”
“Do you take it, then?”
She bit her pretty little mouth into all manner of tantalising and absurd shapes. ”

“ Once he had loved her, like a very Romeo, and set her on a pinnacle higher than any balcony. He shivered, as with horrible clarity he saw the night when, returning late from the theatre (there had been a rehearsal after the show) , he had found her in their wretched little parlour, drinking a wretched brand of champagne with Harrington May, the leading-man. The same Harrington May who had fled from the field of honour—to return later, as a fly returns to a pot of jam.
Everyone has supper with everyone else on the provincial stage. ”

“ At the first reading Eliphalet was delighted. The play seemed to act itself. He experienced an odd sensation that there was little or nothing for the producer to do—that it rested with the company to commit to memory their lines and repeat them from appropriate positions upon the stage. He had not realised that the true human modern play is almost automatic, and that its crises arise from the general team-work of the company, and not by individual effects. ”

“ Eliphalet had quite made up his mind to engage Mornice on a long contract, not only for her talent, but because he could not endure the thought of losing sight of her. Somehow she filled an empty space in his heart that long had craved for a tenant. It is good for a man to have some interests in life outside his work, and he had none.
There was something in Mornice that awoke a queer familiarity with another episode of his life, but when he tried to place the impression it would not develop. Was it perhaps with scatter-brained little Eunice Terry, whom he had disillusioned about the stage? No! ”

“ The poster which preceded him to town displayed a well-proportioned man, whose head tilted fearlessly upon broad shoulders, and whose eyes shone as with a smouldering fire. A full growth of hair projected from under the curving brim of a Trilby hat. He wore a flowing tie, a fur-collared coat, and in his right hand carried an ivory-topped Malacca cane of original design. It was a striking poster, executed many years before, and everyone who knew it, and knew Eliphalet, marvelled how the original still continued to realise the picture in every detail. ”

“ Happiness should arise from natural causes, and never be induced for the purposes of convenience or climax.
Eliphalet Cardomay’s early life was saturated with plots which, passing through a morass of many tribulations, invariably ended with lovers embracing. It was as much the inevitable outcome of this saturation that led him to commit the fatal error of making Blanche Cannon his wife as it was to slacken his waistcoat after a repast and sink, with drooping eyelids, into a chair beneath an open window. ”

“ The sight of the old actor peaceably pursuing his way brought about a fresh paroxysm of anger.
Had not Eliphalet been a man of ready perceptions, it is probable that he would have made neither head nor tail of the torrent of reproaches and threats that fell from Henry’s lips; but through it all he was able to discern that here was real tragedy, and that the need for action was immediate. With great presence of mind he piloted the distraught young man into an adjacent dairy and, placing before him a bun and a glass of milk, besought him to drink and assuage his heat. ”

“ Eliphalet accepted a bundle of letters from an obsequious advance agent, returned, with condescension, the tentative salutes of several members of his company, and passed down the long grey platform with springing step. The yellow smoke of the Midlands was as violets to his nostrils and as balm to his eyes.
With quiet satisfaction he noted how the ticket-collector at the barrier, instead of demanding his ticket, allowed him to pass with a polite “Good morning, Sir.” ”

“ On the morrow he was ready for her in earnest, and realising this, Mornice flung herself into the part with startling energy. He did not allow her to go far before holding up his hand.
“My dear,” he said, “try to remember you are playing the part of a married woman who is at variance with her elderly husband. Do not therefore swing an imaginary sun-bonnet, or smile and blink your eyes at the audience, as though each one was a potential lover. You have three acts in which to gain their affections—not thirty feet of film.” ”

“ Treacherous germs await old gentlemen who sleep beneath open windows. Riding at ease with the army of descending smuts that denote the industry of a Midland town, they enter the system and take command. Wherefore, ten days later, instead of walking with sprightly step down Brigan High Street, Eliphalet Cardomay was lying in bed, contemplating M. Dyson, of the Royal Theatre, Brigan, with a pleading and watery eye. But the manager was not a man to allow sentiment to stand in the way of business. ”

“ Eliphalet Cardomay has the pleasantest villa in New Brighton, with tamarisks forming a guard of honour to the front door. The rooms inside are just what you would expect—cosy, warm, hospitable. Sir Henry Irving’s signed portrait, as Thomas à Becket, hangs over the fireplace in the parlour, and there are many others of great-hearted, if less celebrated, performers dotted about the walls in comforting disorder. ”

“ Did reality for the stage actually exist, or was it a mere modern fetish? Change—Futurism—Realism! What were they but ugly likenesses of nature—the human frame with all its bones showing?
The moon was a fairy over the sea, and the sea a playground for the moods of light—unchangeable, unreal, as it was in the beginning.
“There is no realism,” mused Eliphalet. “It plays no part in our spiritual lives.”
Then a rubber-soled policeman came down the esplanade, and spoke harsh words regarding folk who walked the night in carpet-slippers and dressing-gowns. ”

“ Cartwright slowly descended from the rostrum.
“It is not part of my professional ambition to leap into a net,” he faltered.
“Leap!” echoed Eliphalet wildly. “Leap! Dare you employ such a word? I have seen a tile fall from a roof with more grace. I have seen a blind man stumble on a banana-skin with greater dignity. But a more pitiable craven-hearted exhibition than yours I—I——” Words failed him. “You have ruined my belief in the younger generation—you have shattered my belief in myself. Manning, Manning! ”

“ To produce such a work would be a step up. It would present him as an actor in a new light. He would encourage a deeper-thinking public. He would, ipso facto, become a modern. Modern influences were afoot on the stage nowadays, and he, Eliphalet, still floundered in the dead seas of rodomontade. Why should he live in the past, when here was “A Man’s Way” to lead him to the future? Eliphalet sat up in bed and lit the candle. ”

“ Eliphalet whispered to the bride. “It will be easier than in the theatre. It is going to be rather hard to lose you altogether.”
She and Ronald were sailing for America, and were going straight to Liverpool after the curtain had fallen.
Eliphalet made great and tender preparations for that parting feast, and laid the table lovingly with his own hands. Then at six o’clock he lit the fairy candles that twinkled among the fruit and smilax, and waited. And Mornice arrived, dressed in her prettiest trousseau frock—all by herself. ”

“ I want this production to be memorable, and to that end everyone who appears in it must appear under circumstances most agreeable to the eye. In our profession it is not always possible to maintain one’s wardrobe at a state of perfection, and we are over-liable, perhaps, to run our suitings beyond the limits of appearance and durability. To encourage you all, then, to do justice to me and the play, I propose to pay an additional twenty-five per cent on your ordinary salaries. One more word, Gentlemen, and I have done. We are all tradesmen, with the trade at our finger-tips. ”

“ His rush to the fire rack resulted in oversetting two buckets of water, and the flames, laughing at his failure, tore down the ceiling of the packing-room and mounted gleefully to the storey above.
The curtain had just risen on the last act when Mr. Gimball burst through the iron door and almost fell upon Eliphalet Cardomay, waiting in the wings.
“The cartridge factory next door is ablaze,” he gasped, “and the sparks are pouring down by the box-office. Drop the iron curtain and we’ll get the audience out.” ”

“ It was a man—or, more truthfully, what was left of a man—poor, shivering, down-and-out. But Eliphalet needed no second glance to assure him that here was Sefton Bulmore—old Sefton, who had done him a good turn—old Sefton, squeezed from the boards to make room for younger blood and fresher funniosities. ”

“ Miss Blanche Cannon, a depictor of adventuresses on the stage and a great Bohemian off, had been present at the contretemps, and was greatly delighted by the young man’s urbanity and calm. It is no infrequent occurrence for opposites to be attracted by each other, and she, with her scatter-brained, love-a-lark disposition, scented in Eliphalet a suitor of possible quality. ”

“ It was an old stage formula, executed with technical perfection. (Try it yourself; you will find it is none too easy to do.)
“The Old Card. By God, it’s the Old Card!”
There was a world of enthusiasm in the tone—then suddenly his manner changed to an extremity of confidence.
“This is uncommonly fortunate. To tell you the truth, old son, I’ve been a bit unlucky lately. But the Profession sticks together, eh? For old sake’s sake—and if—if you can’t lend me ten bob, five ’ud do!”
“Sit down—let’s talk,” said Eliphalet. ”

“ Kitterson was plucking his sleeve and beckoning him to come away, but Eliphalet threw the old fellow from him with a fine flash of anger in his voice and eyes.
“If we are to die,” he cried, “we will die like soldiers and gentlemen—at our posts.”
There was a hoarse, solid detonation, followed by a splutter of little reports and the sharp stink of gunpowder filled the auditorium.
Some ladies in the stalls moved restively, and complained it was too realistic. In the gallery a girl shrieked, and some boys mocked her with their laughter. ”

“ Eliphalet suddenly remembered a play he had done years and years before, in which a somewhat similar scene occurred, in which he had said, “Not to-night, my brother. Your body needs nourishment, your brain needs rest. Go—take what my poor dwelling has to offer. Eat, sleep, and pray to Him to visit your dreams with peace.”
Probably for the first time in his life it dawned on Eliphalet Cardomay that this kind of talk was bosh—stilted bosh. People didn’t say things like that; wherefore it was sheer dishonesty to proclaim such stuff to an audience. ”

“ Perhaps he felt a shade awkward at the rehearsal next morning to find the stage thronged with so many unfamiliar faces, but for the most part they were a friendly company, and very soon he was quite at ease with the men.
The ladies he found difficult, being so totally dissimilar to the homely, good-natured souls who played with him on his hundred tours.
There was a Miss Helen Winter, who played the Queen and whose personality caused him alarm. She seemed far more like a duchess than the real example he had seen in the Park. ”

“ Eliphalet mused.
“Why should I choke him off, Manning? You said yourself it was a good play.”
“I said it wasn’t too bad,” corrected Manning exactly. “Besides, I thought you’d fixed on the Lyceum piece.”
“Which is exactly like every other drama we have ever produced.”
“Well, we’re exactly like all the other characters we’ve ever played. No good changing our play if we can’t change ourselves to match it.” ”