Sir Cyril pushed ahead, without saying a word, without even
remonstrating when his minions omitted to make way for him. Right at
the back of the stage, and almost in the centre, the crowd was much
thicker. And at last, having penetrated it, we came upon a sight which
I am not likely to forget. Rosa, in all the splendor of the bridal
costume, had passed her arms under Alresca's armpits, and so raised
his head and shoulders against her breast. She was gazing into the
face of the spangled knight, and the tears were falling from her eyes
into his.
"My poor Alresca! My poor Alresca!" she kept murmuring.
Pressing on these two were a distinguished group consisting of the
King, the Herald, Ortrud, Telramund, and several more. And Ortrud was
cautiously feeling Alresca's limbs with her jewel-laden fingers. I saw
instantly that Alresca was unconscious.
"Please put him down, mademoiselle."
These were the first words that I ever spoke to Rosetta Rosa, and, out
of sheer acute nervousness, I uttered them roughly, in a tone of
surly command. I was astonished at myself. I was astonished at my own
voice. She glanced up at me and hesitated. No doubt she was
unaccustomed to such curt orders.
"Please put him down at once," I repeated, trying to assume a bland,
calm, professional, authoritative manner, and not in the least
succeeding. "It is highly dangerous to lift an unconscious person from
a recumbent position."
Why I should have talked like an article in a medical dictionary
instead of like a human being I cannot imagine.
"This is a doctor--Mr. Carl Foster," Sir Cyril explained smoothly, and
she laid Alresca's head gently on the bare planks of the floor.
"Will everyone kindly stand aside, and I will examine him."
No one moved. The King continued his kingly examination of the prone
form. Not a fold of Ortrud's magnificent black robe was disturbed.
Then Sir Cyril translated my request into French and into German, and
these legendary figures of the Middle Ages withdrew a little, fixing
themselves with difficulty into the common multitude that pressed on
them from without. I made them retreat still further. Rosetta Rosa
moved gravely to one side.
Almost immediately Alresca opened his eyes, and murmured faintly, "My
thigh."
I knelt down, but not before Rosa had sprung forward at the sound of
his voice, and kneeling close by my side had clasped his hand. I tried
to order her away, but my tongue could not form the words. I could
only look at her mutely, and there must have been an effective appeal
in my eyes, for she got up, nodding an acquiescence, and stood silent
and tense a yard from Alresca's feet. With a violent effort I nerved
myself to perform my work. The voice of Nolan, speaking to the
audience, and then a few sympathetic cheers, came vaguely from the
other side of the big curtain, and then the orchestra began to play
the National Anthem.