"It is a dreadful blow, my dear fellow, a dreadful blow! I went home. I have been greatly excited since, and in my excitement, I am ashamed to say I forgot you for a moment, and told the man to drive me home. My wife was not at the theatre; and, until she said something to me about you, I did not realise the fact that you might have worse news than the burning down of your house." "Ay, I have the worst that we could have expected from the news Lavirotte brought." "Has anyone been here from the theatre?" "No. I have seen no one I knew since I left." "Then you have not heard what has happened?" "No." "In the second act Lavirotte fell insensible on the stage, and we had to drop the curtain and stop the piece." "Good heavens! What a night of disasters! How is he?" "He recovered in a short time, and in spite of all we could do, and all the doctor could say to the contrary, insisted on being driven to Porter Street. He would allow no one of the company but Jephson to go with him. As you say, it was a night of disasters; but, my dear Eugene, yours is far the worst." "Mr. Fraser," said a new voice, "do you know anything of O'Donnell?" "Yes, Jephson. He is here." "Where?" said Jephson. "Here," repeated Fraser, putting his hand on O'Donnell. "I did not recognise you. I suppose you have told him what has happened, Fraser?" "Yes," said O'Donnell. "How is Lavirotte?" "Dying," answered Jephson. "He cannot last till daylight, and he says he cannot die without seeing you. Can you come with me to him?" O'Donnell moved over to the inspector, and asked: "When can we be quite certain of the worst?" "Not until after daylight," answered the inspector. "Then I will go with you, Jephson. He is the dearest friend I have in the world, and I will not see my wife again until the evidence is complete." CHAPTER XXX. When Jephson and O'Donnell were in the cab, the latter said: "Dying! dying! Dominique dying! And Mark dead! My little Mark dead! Good God, what a night! Today, Jephson, this morning when I set out for the theatre there was no thought of grief in my mind, no forethought of misfortune. And now, here are misfortunes so thick upon us, that one cannot see them altogether. I suppose Fraser is ruined? I thought of that at the time I was speaking to him. But it seemed to me it would be no kindness to mention the matter to him just then." "I don't think, O'Donnell, to-night's misfortunes at the theatre will seriously hurt Fraser. Of course, under the circumstances of you and Lavirotte being disqualified, the opera must be postponed for some time, until you, at all events, have recovered to-night's shock sufficiently to sing the part." "I shall never sing the part," said O'Donnell, "that cost me my little child."