e falling of the curtain, and when the
actor, as the villain of the piece, received the fatal knife-thrust
from the ill-used heroine, he plunged forward on his face and died
without a struggle, to the amazement of the manager, who was watching
the play from the front of the house, and to the evident bewilderment
of the gallery, who had counted on an exciting struggle with death.

Much as they desired the cutting off of the villain, they were not
pleased to see him so suddenly shift his worlds without an agonising
realisation of the fact that he was quitting an existence in which he
had done nothing but evil. The curtain came down upon the climax, but
there was no applause, and the audience silently filtered out into the
street.

"There," said Dupre, when he returned to his dressing-room; "I hope you
are satisfied now, Lemoine, and if you are, you are the only satisfied
person in the house. I fell perfectly flat, as you suggested, and you
must have seen that the climax of the play fell flat also."

"Nevertheless," persisted Lemoine, stoutly, "it was the true rendering
of the part."

As they were talking the manager came into their dressing-room. "Good
heavens, Dupre!" he said, "why did you end the piece in that idiotic
way? What on earth got into you?"

"The knife," said Dupre, flippantly. "It went directly through the
heart, and Lemoine here insists that when that happens a man should
fall dead instantly. I did it to please Lemoine."

"But you spoiled your curtain," protested the manager.

"Yes, I knew that would happen, and I told Lemoine so; but he insists
on art for art's sake. You must expostulate with Lemoine, although I
don't mind telling you both frankly that I don't intend to die in that
way again."

"Well, I hope not," replied the manager. "I don't want you to kill the
play as well as yourself, you know, Dupre."

Lemoine, whose face had by this time become restored to its normal
appearance, retorted hotly--

"It all goes to show how we are surrounded and hampered by the
traditions of the stage. The gallery wants to see a man die all over
the place, and so the victim has to scatter the furniture about and
make a fool of himself generally, when he should quietly succumb to a
well-deserved blow. You ask any physician and he will tell you that a
man stabbed or shot through the heart collapses at once. There is no
jumping-jack business in such a case. He doesn't play at leapfrog with
the chairs and sofa