The comedians were charmed with his courage and coolness, but, knowing his real rank, were not so much astonished as the other spectators of this extraordinary scene, who were both shocked and amazed at such temerity.

Isabelle was so terrified and excited by this fierce altercation that a deathly pallor had overspread her troubled face, and Zerbine, who had flown to her assistance, had to fetch some of her own rouge and bestow it plentifully upon the colourless lips and cheeks before she could obey the tyrant’s impatient call, again resounding through the green-room.

When she tried to rise her trembling knees had nearly given way under her, and but for the soubrette’s kind support she must have fallen to the floor.  To have been the cause, though innocently, of a quarrel like this was a terrible blow to poor Isabelle sweet, pure, modest child that she was—­for she knew that it is a dreadful thing for any woman to have her name mixed up in such an affair, and shrank from the publicity that could not fail to be given to it; besides, she loved de Sigognac with fervour and devotion, though she had never acknowledged it to him, and the thought of the danger to which he was exposed, of a secret attack by the duke’s hired ruffians, or even of a duel with his lordship himself, drove her well-nigh frantic with grief and terror.

In spite of this untoward incident, the rehearsal went on, and very smoothly; the theatre was found to be all that they could desire, and everybody acted with much spirit.  Even poor, trembling Isabelle did herself credit, though her heart was heavy within her; but for de Sigognac’s dear sake, whose anxious glances she strove to meet with a reassuring smile, she succeeded in controlling her emotion, and felt inspired to do her very best.  As to Captain Fracasse, excited by the quarrel, he acted superbly.  Zerbine surpassed herself.  Shouts of laughter and storms of clapping followed her animated words and gestures.  From one corner, near the orchestra, came such vigorous bursts of applause, leading all the rest and lasting longer than any, that at last Zerbine’s attention was attracted and her curiosity excited.

Approaching the foot-lights, in such a way as to make it appear part of her usual by-play, she peered over them and caught sight of her marquis, beaming with smiles and flushed from his violent efforts in her behalf.

“The marquis is here,” she managed to whisper to Blazius, who was playing Pandolphe; “just look at him! how delighted he is, and how he applauds me—­till he is actually red in the face, the dear man!  So he admires my acting, does he?  Well, he shall have a spicy specimen of it, then.”