My intense desire to win over the English public had caused me to overtax my strength. I had done my utmost at the first performance, and had not spared myself in the least. The consequence was in the night I vomited blood in such an alarming way that a messenger was despatched to the French Embassy in search of a physician. Dr. Vintras, who was at the head of the French Hospital in London, found me lying on my bed, exhausted and looking more dead than alive. He was afraid that I should not recover, and requested that my family be sent for. I made a gesture with my hand to the effect that it was not necessary. As I could not speak, I wrote down with a pencil, “Send for Dr. Parrot.” Dr. Vintras remained with me part of the night, putting crushed ice between my lips every five minutes. At length towards five in the morning the blood vomiting ceased, and, thanks to a potion that the doctor gave me, I fell asleep. We were to play _L’Etrangère_ that night at the Gaiety, and, as my _rôle_ was not a very fatiguing one, I wanted to perform my part _quand- même_. Dr. Parrot arrived by the four o’clock boat, and refused categorically to give his consent. He had attended me from my childhood. I really felt much better, and the feverishness had left me. I wanted to get up, but to this Dr. Parrot objected. Presently Dr. Vintras and Mr. Mayer, the impresario of the Comédie Française, were announced. Mr. Hollingshead, the director of the Gaiety Theatre, was waiting in a carriage at the door to know whether I was going to play in _L’Etrangère_, the piece announced on the bills. I asked Dr. Parrot to rejoin Dr. Vintras in the drawing-room, and I gave instructions for Mr. Mayer to be introduced into my room. “I feel much better,” I said to him very quickly. “I’m very weak still, but I will play. Hush!—don’t say a word here. Tell Hollingshead, and wait for me in the smoking-room, but don’t let any one else know.” I then got up and dressed very quickly. My maid helped me, and as she had guessed what my plan was, she was highly amused. Wrapped in my cloak, with a lace fichu over my head, I joined Mayer in the smoking-room, and then we both got into his hansom. “Come to me in an hour’s time,” I said in a low voice to my maid. “Where are you going?” asked Mayer, perfectly stupefied. “To the theatre! Quick—quick!” I answered. The cab started, and I then explained to him that if I had stayed at home, neither Dr. Parrot nor Dr. Vintras would have allowed me to perform. “The die is cast now,” I added, “and we shall see what happens.”