The Comedienne. Władysław Stanisław Reymont
our company, miss?" she inquired with a sharp energetic voice, piercing Janina with her round, owl-like eyes.
"Not quite. … I am about to have a trial with the musical director. Ah, yes, Mr. Cabinski even said that it was to take place before the performance! … " she cried, recalling what he had told her.
"Aha! with that drunkard … "
Janina glanced at her, surprised.
"Have you set your heart on being with us, miss?"
"In the theater? … yes! … I journeyed here for that very purpose."
"From whence?" asked the elderly woman abruptly.
"From home," answered Janina, but more quietly and with a certain hesitation.
"Ah … I see … you are entirely new to the profession! …
Well, well! that is curious! … "
"Why? … why should it be so strange for one who loves the theater to try to join it? … "
"Oh, that's what all of them say! … while in truth, each of them runs away either from something … or for something. … "
Janina was conscious of an accent of hidden malice in her voice. "Do you know, madam, how soon the musical director will arrive?" she asked.
"I don't!" snapped back the elderly woman, and walked away.
Janina moved back a little, for just then the workmen were spreading a huge waxed canvas over the stage. She was gazing at this absent-mindedly, when the elderly woman reappeared and addressed her in a milder tone, "I will give you a piece of advice, miss. … It is necessary for you to win over the musical director."
"But how am I to do it?"
"Have you money?"
"I have, but—"
"If you will listen to me, I will advise you."
"Certainly."
"You must get him a little drunk, then the rehearsal will come off splendidly."
Janina glanced at her in amazement.
"Ha! ha!" laughed the other quietly. "Ha! ha! she is a real moon-calf!"
After a moment she whispered, "Let us go to the dressing-room. I will enlighten you a little … "
She pulled Janina after her, and afterwards, busying herself with pinning a dress on a mannikin, she remarked, "We must get acquainted."
"Tell me, madam, how about that musical director?" asked Janina.
"It's necessary to buy him some cognac. Yes!" she added after a moment, "Cognac, beer, and sandwiches will, perhaps, be sufficient."
"How much would that cost?"
"I think that for three rubles you can give him a decent treat. Let me have the money and I will order everything for you. I had better go right away."
Janina gave her the money.
Sowinska left and in about a quarter of an hour returned, breathless.
"Well, everything is settled! Come along, miss, the director is waiting."
Behind the restaurant hall there was a room with a piano. "Halt," flushed and sleepy, was already waiting there.
"Cabinski spoke to me about you, miss!" he began. "What can you sing? … Whew! how warm I feel! … Perhaps you will raise the window?" he said, turning to Sowinska.
Janina felt disturbed by his hoarse voice and his inflamed, drunken face, but she sat down to the piano, wondering what she should select to sing.
"Ah! you also play, miss? … " he queried in great surprise.
"Yes," she answered, and began playing the introduction to some song, without seeing the signs that Sowinska was making to her.
"Please sing something for me," he said, "I want to hear only your voice. … Or perhaps you could sing some solo part?"
"Mr. Director … I feel that I have a calling for the drama, or even for the comedy, but never for the opera."
"But we are not talking about the opera … "
"About what, then?"
"About this … the operetta!" he cried, striking his knee. "Sing, Miss! … I have only a little time and I am burning up with this heat."
She began to sing a song of Tosti's. The director listened, but at the same time gazed at Sowinska and pointed to his parched lips.
When Janina had ended, he cried, "Very well … we will accept you … I must hurry out, for I'm roasting."
"Perhaps you will have a drink of something with us, Mr.
Director? … " she queried timidly, understanding the signs that
Sowinska gave her.
He pretended to excuse himself, but in the end remained.
Sowinska ordered the waiter to bring half a bottle of cognac, three beers and some sandwiches, and, having drained her own glass, she hastily left them, saying that she had forgotten something in the dressing-room.
"Halt" shoved his chair nearer to Janina's.
"Hm! … you have a voice, miss … a very nice voice … " he said and laid his big red paw upon her knee, while with the other he began to pour some brandy into his beer.
She moved back a little, disgusted.
"You can put on a bold front on the stage. … I will help you … " he added, draining his glass at one gulp.
"If you will be so kind, Mr. Director … " Janina said, drawing away from him.
"I will see to it … I will take care of you!"
And suddenly he took her about the waist and drew her to him.
Janina shoved him back with such force that he fell sprawling upon the table, and then ran to the door, ready to cry out.
"Whew! … wait a minute … you're a fool! … stay! … I wanted to take care of you, help you, but since you're such a blooming fool, go and hang yourself! … "
He drank the rest of his cognac and left.
On the veranda sat Cabinski with the stage-manager.
"Has she any kind of a voice?" he inquired of "Halt," for he had seen Janina entering the room. "A soprano?"
"Ho, ho! something unheard of … almost an alto!"
Janina sat for about an hour in that room, unable to control the indignation and rage that shook her. There were lucid moments when she would spring up as though ready to rush out and away from those people, but immediately she would sink down again with a moan.
"Where will I go?" she asked herself, and then added with a sudden determination. "No, I will stay! … I will bear all, if it is necessary … I must! … I must!"
Janina became set in her stubborn determination. She collected within herself all her powers for impending battle with misfortune, with obstacles, with the whole evil and hostile world and for a moment, she saw herself on some dizzying height where was fame and the intoxication of triumph.
Presently Sowinska came in.
"Thank you, for your advice … and for leaving me with a pig! … " the girl exclaimed, half weeping.
"I was in a hurry … he did not eat you, did he? … He's a good man. … "
"Then leave your daughter alone with that good man!" retorted Janina harshly. "My daughter is not an actress," answered Sowinska.
"Oh! … It doesn't matter … It's only a lesson for me," she whispered, turning away.
She