The stage rehearsals of _Le Cid_ at the Opéra were carried on with astonishing sureness and skill by my dear director, P. Gailhard, a master of this art who had been besides the most admirable of artists on the stage. He did everything for the good of the work with an affectionate friendship. It is my pleasant duty to pay him honor for this. Later on I found him the same invaluable collaborator when _Ariane_ was put on at the Opéra. On the evening of November 20, 1885, the Opéra billed the first performance of _Le Cid_, while the Opéra-Comique played the same evening _Manon_, which had already passed its eightieth performance. In spite of the good news from the general rehearsal of _Le Cid_, I spent the evening with the artists at _Manon_. Needless to say all the talk in the wings of the Opéra-Comique was of the first performance of _Le Cid_ which was then in full blast. Despite my apparent calmness, in my inmost heart I was extremely anxious, so the curtain had hardly fallen on the fifth act of _Manon_ than I went to the Opéra instead of going home. An irresistible power pulled me thither. As I skirted the outside of the house from which an elegant and large crowd was pouring, I overheard a snatch of conversation between a well known journalist and a reporter who hurriedly inquired the results of the evening. "It is splitting, my dear chap." I was greatly troubled, as one would be in any case, and ran to the directors' room for further news. At the artists' entrance I met Mme. Krause. She embraced me in raptures and said, "It's a triumph!" Need I say that I preferred the opinion of this admirable artiste. She comforted me completely. I left Paris (what a traveler I was then!) for Lyons, where they were giving both _Hérodiade_ and _Manon_. Three days after my arrival there, as I was dining at a restaurant with my two great friends Josephin Soulary, the fine poet of _Les Deux Cortèges_, and Paul Marieton, the vibrant provincial poet, I was handed the following telegram from Hartmann: "Fifth performance of _Le Cid_ postponed a month. Enormous advance sale returned. Artists ill." I was nervous at the time; I fainted away and remained unconscious so long that my friends were greatly alarmed. At the end of three weeks, however, _Le Cid_ reappeared on the bills, and I realized once more that I was surrounded by deep sympathy, as the following letter shows: "My dear Confrère: "I must congratulate you on your success and I want to applaud you as quickly as possible. My turn for my box does not come around until Friday, December 11th, and I beg you to arrange for _Le Cid_ to be given on that day, _Friday, December 11._ "H. d'Orleans." How touched and proud I was at this mark of attention from his Royal Highness the Duc d'Aumale!