BRITISH MYSTERIES - Fergus Hume Collection: 21 Thriller Novels in One Volume. Fergus Hume

very freely, and the curtain fell amid thunders of applause. Altogether ‘The Cruet Stand’ was a success, and would have a steady run of three nights at least, so Mr Wopples said—and as a manager of long standing, he was thoroughly well up in the subject.

      Villiers, Vandeloup, and Barty went out and had a drink, and as none of them felt inclined to go to bed, Villiers told them he knew Mr Theodore Wopples, and proposed that they should go behind the scenes and see him. This was unanimously carried, and after some difficulty with the door-keeper—a crusty old man with a red face and white hair, that stood straight up in a tuft, and made him look like an infuriated cockatoo—they obtained access to the mysterious regions of the stage, and there found Master Sheridan Wopples practising a breakdown while waiting for the rest of the family to get ready. This charming youth, who was small, dried-up and wonderfully sharp, volunteered to guide them to his father’s dressing-room, and on knocking at the door Mr Wopples’ voice boomed out ‘Come in,’ in such an unexpected manner that it made them all jump.

      On entering the room they found Mr Wopples, dressed in a light tweed suit, and just putting on his coat. It was a small room, with a flaring gas-jet, under which there was a dressing-table littered over with grease, paints, powder, vaseline and wigs, and upon it stood a small looking-glass. A great basket-box with the lid wide open stood at the end of the room, with a lot of clothes piled up on it, and numerous other garments were hung up upon the walls. A washstand, with a basin full of soapy water, stood under a curtainless window, and there was only one chair to be seen, which Mr Wopples politely offered to his visitor. Mr Villiers, however, told him he had brought two gentlemen to introduce to him, at which Mr Wopples was delighted; and on the introduction taking place, assured both Vandeloup and Barty that it was one of the proudest moments of his life—a stock phrase he always used when introduced to visitors. He was soon ready, and preceded the party out of the room, when he stopped, struck with a sudden idea.

      ‘I have left the gas burning in my dressing-room,’ he said, in his rolling voice, ‘and, if you will permit me, gentlemen, I will go back and turn it off.’

      This was rather difficult to manage, inasmuch as the stairs were narrow, and three people being between Mr Wopples and his dressing-room, he could not squeeze past.

      Finally the difficulty was settled by Villiers, who was last, and who went back and turned out the gas.

      When he came down he found Mr Wopples waiting for him.

      ‘I thank you, sir,’ he said, grandly, ‘and will feel honoured if you will give me the pleasure of your company at a modest supper consisting principally of cold beef and pickles.’

      Of course, they all expressed themselves delighted, and as the entire Wopples family had already gone to their hotel, Mr Wopples with his three guests went out of the theatre and wended their way towards the same place, only dropping into two or three bars on the way to have drinks at Barty’s expense.

      They soon arrived at the hotel, and having entered, Mr Wopples pushed open the door of a room from whence the sound of laughter proceeded, and introduced the three strangers to his family. The whole ten, together with Mrs Wopples, were present, and were seated around a large table plentifully laden with cold beef and pickles, salads, bottles of beer, and other things too numerous to mention. Mr Wopples presented them first to his wife, a faded, washed-out looking lady, with a perpetual simper on her face, and clad in a lavender muslin gown with ribbons of the same description, she looked wonderfully light and airy. In fact she had a sketchy appearance as if she required to be touched up here and there, to make her appear solid, which was of great service to her in her theatrical career, as it enabled her to paint on the background of herself any character she wished to represent.

      ‘This,’ said Mr Wopples in his deep voice, holding his wife’s hand as if he were afraid she would float upward thro’ the ceiling like a bubble—a not unlikely thing seeing how remarkably ethereal she looked; ‘this is my flutterer.’

      Why he called her his flutterer no one ever knew, unless it was because her ribbons were incessantly fluttering; but, had he called her his shadow, the name would have been more appropriate.

      Mrs Wopples fluttered down to the ground in a bow, and then fluttered up again.

      ‘Gentlemen,’ she said, in a thin, clear voice, ‘you are welcome. Did you enjoy the performance?’

      ‘Madame,’ returned Vandeloup, with a smile, ‘need you ask that?’

      A shadowy smile floated over Mrs Wopples’ indistinct features, and then her husband introduced the rest of the family in a bunch.

      ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, waving his hand to the expectant ten, who stood in a line of five male and five female, ‘the celebrated Wopples family.’

      The ten all simultaneously bowed at this as if they were worked by machinery, and then everyone sat down to supper, Mr Theodore Wopples taking the head of the table. All the family seemed to admire him immensely, and kept their eyes fastened on his face with affectionate regard.

      ‘Pa,’ whispered Miss Siddons Wopples to Villiers, who sat next to her, ‘is a most wonderful man. Observe his facial expression.’

      Villiers observed it, and admitted also in a whisper that it was truly marvellous.

      Cold beef formed the staple viand on the table, and everyone did full justice to it, as also to beer and porter, of which Mr Wopples was very generous.

      ‘I prefer to give my friends good beer instead of bad champagne,’ he said, pompously. ‘Ha! ha! the antithesis, I think, is good.’

      The Wopples family unanimously agreed that it was excellent, and Mr Handel Wopples observed to Barty that his father often made jokes worthy of Tom Hood, to which Barty agreed hastily, as he did not know who Tom Hood was, and besides was flirting in a mild manner with Miss Fanny Wopples, a pretty girl, who did the burlesque business.

      ‘And are all these big boys and girls yours, Madame?’ asked Vandeloup, who was rather astonished at the number of the family, and thought some of them might have been hired for theatrical purposes. Mrs Wopples nodded affirmatively with a gratified flutter, and her husband endorsed it.

      ‘There are four dead,’ he said, in a solemn voice. ‘Rest their souls.’

      All the ten faces round the board reflected the gloom on the parental countenance, and for a few moments no one spoke.

      ‘This,’ said Mr Wopples, looking round with a smile, at which all the other faces lighted up, ‘this is not calculated to make our supper enjoyable, children. I may tell you that, in consequence of the great success of “The Cruet Stand”, we play it again to-morrow night.’

      ‘Ah!’ said Mr Buckstone Wopples, with his mouth full, ‘I knew it would knock ‘em; that business of yours, father, with the writ is simply wonderful.’

      All the family chorused ‘Yes,’ and Mr Wopples admitted, with a modest smile, that it was wonderful.

      ‘Practise,’ said Mr Wopples, waving a fork with a piece of cold beef at the end of it, ‘makes perfect. My dear Vandeloup, if you will permit me to call you so, my son Buckstone is truly a wonderful critic.’

      Vandeloup smiled at this, and came to the conclusion that the Wopples family was a mutual admiration society. However, as it was now nearly twelve o’clock, he rose to take his leave.

      ‘Oh, you’re not going yet,’ said Mr Wopples, upon which all the family echoed, ‘Surely, not yet,’ in a most hospitable manner.

      ‘I must,’ said Vandeloup, with a smile. ‘I know Madame will excuse me,’ with a bow to Mrs Wopples, who thereupon fluttered nervously; ‘but I have to be up very early in the morning.’

      ‘In that case,’ said Mr Wopples, rising, ‘I will not detain you; early to bed and early to rise, you know; not that I believe in it much myself, but I understand it is practised with good results by some people.’

      Vandeloup shook hands with Mr and Mrs