Bambi Part 18

"You haven't told me what yours is, yet," he objected.

"Mine is a secret."

The dining-room of the club was entirely full when they went down, and the hum of talk and laughter roused Bambi's tired sensibilities.

"It's quite jolly," she said. "Some of the people look interesting, don't they?"

"I talked to that little man, over there, with the red necktie, while I was waiting for you, and he has ideas."

"Lovely woman with him."

They chatted personalities for a while.

"Seems ages since we left home, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Big mental experiences obliterate time."

"The Professor has forgotten to write, of course."

"He has probably forgotten us."

"Oh, no!"

"I feel that I am getting rather well acquainted with you," he nodded and smiled.

"How do you like me, now that you have met me?" she teased.

"You are an interesting specimen over-sensitized."

"Jarvis!" she protested. "I sound like a Cubist picture."

After dinner they drifted with the crowd into the art gallery, where they talked to several people who introduced themselves. It was very friendly and social. The lecturer they had heard in the morning was there. Jarvis went to speak to him, and brought him back to Bambi. She found him jolly and responsive. She even dared to twit him about his feminine audience.

People seated themselves in groups, and finally a chairman made some remarks about the Modern Drama and invited a discussion. A dramatic critic made cynical comment on the so-called "uplift plays," which roused Jarvis to indignation. To Bambi's surprise, he was on his feet instantly, and a torrent of words was spilled upon the dramatic critic.

He held the attention closely, in an impa.s.sioned plea for thoughtful drama, not necessarily didactic, but the serious handling of vital problems in comedy, if necessary, or even in farce. It need not be such harrowing work as Brieux makes it, but if the man who had things to say could and would conquer the technique of dramatic writing, he would reach the biggest audiences that could be provided, which ought to pay him for the severity of his apprenticeship.

Bambi thrilled with pride in him, his handsome face, his pa.s.sionate idealism, and his eloquence. He sat down, amid much applause, and Bambi knew he had made his place among these clever people. He took some part in the discussion that followed, and when they went upstairs she marked the flush of excitement and the alive look of his face.

"I was proud of you, Jarvis," she said, as they stopped at her door.

"Nonsense. The man I talked against was a duffer, but this has been a great day," he said. "This place stimulates you every minute."

"Tomorrow we move on Broadway, Captain Jocelyn. Get your forces in order to advance."

"Very good, General. Good night, sir."

"Good-night."

As she closed her door she skipped across the room. She knew the first gun had been fired when Jarvis rose to speak. If she was to act as commander in the making of his career, she was glad she had a personality to work with. n.o.body would forget that Greek head, with its close-cropped brown curls, those dreaming blue eyes, and that sensitive, over-controlled mouth. Her own dreams were wrought about them.

VII

The day which Bambi foretold would some time be famous in history dawned propitiously, with sun and soft airs. A sense of excitement got them up early. Breakfast was over, and Jarvis ready for action, by eight-thirty.

"I don't believe Mr. Belasco will be down this early, Jarvis," Bambi said.

"Well, he is a busy man. He'll probably get an early start. I want to be on the ground when he arrives, anyhow. If he should want me to read the play this morning, we should need time."

She made no more objections. She straightened his tie, and brushed his coat, with shining eyes, full of excitement.

"Just think! In five hours we may know." He took up his hat and his ma.n.u.script.

"Yes," he answered confidently. "Shall we lunch here?"

"Yes, and do hurry back, Jarvis."

At the door he remembered her.

"Where are you going? Do you want to come?"

"No. I have something to attend to myself. Good luck."

She held out her hand to him. He held it a second, looking at it as if it was a specimen of something hitherto unknown.

"I am not forgetting that you are giving me this chance," he said, and left abruptly.

Bambi leaped about the rooms in a series of joy-leaps that would have shamed Mordkin, before she began the serious business of the day.

Jarvis had carefully looked up the exact location of the Belasco Theatre. He decided to walk uptown, in order to arrange his thoughts, and to make up his mind just how much and what he would say to Mr.

Belasco. The stir, the people, the noise and the roar were unseen, unheard. He strolled along, towering above the crowd, a blond young Achilles, with many an admiring eye turned in his wake.

None of the perquisites of success, so dear to Bambi's dreams, appealed to him. He saw himself, like John the Baptist, crying in the wilderness, which was the world, and all the people, in all the cities, were roused out of their lethargy and dull submission at his call--not to prayer, but to thought. It was a great mission he was upon, and even Broadway became consecrated ground. He walked far beyond the cross street of the theatre in his absorption, so it was exactly half-after nine when he arrived at the box office.

"I want to speak to Mr. Belasco," he said to the man there.

"Three flights up."

"Is there an elevator?"

"Naw."

He resented the man's grin, but he made no reply. He began to climb the long flights of dark stairs. Arrived at the top, the doors were all locked, so he was forced to descend again to the box office.

"There is n.o.body up there," he said.

"You didn't expect anybody to be there at this hour of the dawn, did you?"