Rod and Phil now were uncertain what to do.  They remained where they were until the people in front of them had all passed out.  They felt very helpless and forlorn there in that big place.  The curtain was down, and the singer had disappeared.  But they must find her, and she was somewhere on the stage in the background.  They knew nothing about the regular way of entrance, and, so, after a moment’s consultation, they hurried forward down the long central aisle.  Coming to the stage, they clambered upon this, made their way along the edge, and slipped quickly about the left-hand corner of the curtain.  Behind this no one was to be seen, but observing a door to the right, they made straight toward it.  They had scarcely reached it, when they were met by a pompous little man, who demanded what they were doing there.

“We want to see Miss Royanna,” Rod replied, shrinking back somewhat from the man’s fierce look.

“See Miss Royanna!” the man shouted in surprise.  “If that isn’t the limit!  Well, she can’t be seen, that’s all there is about it.”

“But we have come all the way to see her,” Rod insisted.

“All the way from where?”

“From Hillcrest.”

“Ho, ho! that’s a good one.  D’ye think she’d gee such bushies as you?  Get out of this, or I’ll chuck you.”

“But we must see her,” and Rod stepped boldly forward.  “It’s very important.”

“Get out of this, I say,” and the man caught him roughly by the shoulders, wheeled him around, and was about to send him headlong out upon the stage, when a stern voice arrested him.

“What’s all this about, Ben?”

“I’m kicking these two bushies out, sir, for their impudence in coming here,” the little man replied, letting go of his grip upon the boy.

As Rod turned, his heart gave a great leap, for there before him stood the very man with “the splendid eyes and grey hair,” who had so won Miss Arabella’s heart.

For a few seconds John Markham eyed the two boys.  Rod’s face looked familiar, but he could not recall where he had seen it before.  He was always meeting so many people that it was hard for him to remember them all.  Perhaps this was one of the newsboys, and that was the reason why he recognised his face.

“What do you want, my lad?” he kindly enquired.

“We want to see Miss Royanna,” was the reply.

A smile passed over the manager’s face at the idea of the famous singer entertaining such company.

“I am afraid that Miss Royanna is too tired to see you to-night,” he replied.  “She gave strict instructions that no one was to be admitted.”

“But we have come all the way from Hillcrest to see her,” and Rod lilted his blue eyes appealingly to the man’s face.  “It’s very important, sir.”

“From Hillcrest, did you say,” and light now began to dawn upon Mr. Markham’s mind.  “And how is Miss Arabella?” he asked, while an amused twinkle shone in his eyes.