I have great reason for believing that, during my stay at the Park Theatre, I was cheated out of my proper share. It was my first affair of the kind, and I was obliged to study at my own expense; but, from that period, I was on my guard, and evaded every attempt at fraud. I will add, too, that at a later date I had the satisfaction of dealing only with managers of well-known probity, to whom I gave my entire confidence without ever having any reason to regret it. CHAPTER XVI. Reopening of my Fantastic Soirées--Minor Miseries of Good Luck--Inconvenience of a small Theatre--My Room taken by Storm--A gratuitous Performance--A conscientious Audience--Pleasant Story about a Black Silk Cap--I perform at the Château of St. Cloud--Cagliostro’s Casket--Holidays. The recommencement of the performances on my own stage largely recompensed me for my bitter _impressions de voyage_. My room was taken a week beforehand for my first performance, as well as for the following, and I had to send away four times as many persons as I could receive. This success had been foreseen by the theatrical agent, and I owed it as much to my absence from the capital as to the attraction my experiments held out. My repertory was still a novelty to the Parisian public, as I had started for Brussels at the height of my success. This did not prevent me, however, from offering some new tricks, one of which more especially produced a striking effect. After my son had mounted on a very small table, I covered him with an enormous stuffed cone, which concealed him from sight, and then, at the sound of a pistol, the cone was thrown over, and at the same instant the lad appeared at my side. Afterwards, in large theatres, and especially in London, this trick was improved upon, and seemed more marvellous still. Instead of appearing by my side, the boy was instantaneously transported to a box at a long distance from the stage, where every body could easily see him. It is a well-known fact that a man cannot enjoy perfect happiness in this world, and that the greatest prosperity has its disagreeable side; this is what is called “the minor evils of good luck.” One of my special annoyances was having a room much too small, which disabled me from satisfying all the demands made for places, and, though I racked my brain, I could hit on no expedient to remedy this inconvenience. As I have already said, my room was often taken beforehand; in that case the office was not opened, and a placard on the door announced it was useless for any non-holders of tickets to apply. But it daily happened that persons, annoyed at being unable to enjoy a promised treat, took no heed of the notice and went straight to the pay place. On being refused admission, they abused the money-taker, and still more the management. These complaints were generally absurd, and of the following description: