rest. His head was
disguised in the long white hair, and the lower part of his face was
completely covered with the flowing white beard proper to the character.
But the eyes with which he looked at me were the eyes of the one man on
earth whom I have most reason to dread ever seeing again--Manuel!

"If it had not been for my smelling-bottle, I believe I should have lost
my senses. As it was, I drew back again into the shadow. Even Armadale
noticed the sudden change in me: he, as well as Midwinter, asked if I
was ill. I said I felt the heat, but hoped I should be better presently;
and then leaned back in the box, and tried to rally my courage. I
succeeded in recovering self-possession enough to be able to look again
at the stage (without showing myself) the next time the chorus appeared.
There was the man again! But to my infinite relief he never looked
toward our box a second time. This welcome indifference, on his part,
helped to satisfy me that I had seen an extraordinary accidental
resemblance, and nothing more. I still hold to this conclusion, after
having had leisure to think; but my mind would be more completely at
ease than it is if I had seen the rest of the man's face without the
stage disguises that hid it from all investigation.

"When the curtain fell on the first act, there was a tiresome ballet to
be performed (according to the absurd Italian custom), before the opera
went on. Though I had got over my first fright, I had been far too
seriously startled to feel comfortable in the theater. I dreaded all
sorts of impossible accidents; and when Midwinter and Armadale put the
question to me, I told them I was not well enough to stay through the
rest of the performance.

"At the door of the theater Armadale proposed to say good-night. But
Midwinter--evidently dreading the evening with _me_--asked him to come
back to supper, if I had no objection. I said the necessary words, and
we all three returned together to this house.

"Ten minutes' quiet in my own room (assisted by a little dose of
eau-de-cologne and water) restored me to myself. I joined the men at the
supper-table. They received my apologies for taking them away from the
opera, with the complimentary assurance that I had not cost either of
them the slightest sacrifice of his own pleasure. Midwinter declared
that he was too completely worn out to care for anything but the two
great blessings, unattainable at the theater, of quiet and fresh air.
Armad