“Therefore I evince the first quality necessary in an actor.” “Can you act?” “Upon occasion, I think,” said Andre-Louis, his thoughts upon his performance at Rennes and Nantes, and wondering when in all his histrionic career Pantaloon’s improvisations had so rent the heart of mobs. M. Binet was musing. “Do you know much of the theatre?” quoth he. “Everything,” said Andre-Louis. “I said that modesty will prove no obstacle in your career.” “But consider. I know the work of Beaumarchais, Eglantine, Mercier, Chenier, and many others of our contemporaries. Then I have read, of course, Moliere, Racine, Corneille, besides many other lesser French writers. Of foreign authors, I am intimate with the works of Gozzi, Goldoni, Guarini, Bibbiena, Machiavelli, Secchi, Tasso, Ariosto, and Fedini. Whilst of those of antiquity I know most of the work of Euripides, Aristophanes, Terence, Plautus...” “Enough!” roared Pantaloon. “I am not nearly through with my list,” said Andre-Louis. “You may keep the rest for another day. In Heaven’s name, what can have induced you to read so many dramatic authors?” “In my humble way I am a student of man, and some years ago I made the discovery that he is most intimately to be studied in the reflections of him provided for the theatre.” “That is a very original and profound discovery,” said Pantaloon, quite seriously. “It had never occurred to me. Yet is it true. Sir, it is a truth that dignifies our art. You are a man of parts, that is clear to me. It has been clear since first I met you. I can read a man. I knew you from the moment that you said ‘good-morning.’ Tell me, now: Do you think you could assist me upon occasion in the preparation of a scenario? My mind, fully engaged as it is with a thousand details of organization, is not always as clear as I would have it for such work. Could you assist me there, do you think?” “I am quite sure I could.” “Hum, yes. I was sure you would be. The other duties that were Felicien’s you would soon learn. Well, well, if you are willing, you may come along with us. You’d want some salary, I suppose?” “If it is usual,” said Andre-Louis. “What should you say to ten livres a month?” “I should say that it isn’t exactly the riches of Peru.” “I might go as far as fifteen,” said Binet, reluctantly. “But times are bad.” “I’ll make them better for you.” “I’ve no doubt you believe it. Then we understand each other?” “Perfectly,” said Andre-Louis, dryly, and was thus committed to the service of Thespis. CHAPTER III. THE COMIC MUSE The company’s entrance into the township of Guichen, if not exactly triumphal, as Binet had expressed the desire that it should be, was at least sufficiently startling and cacophonous to set the rustics gaping. To them these fantastic creatures appeared--as indeed they were--beings from another world.