ling effect produced by the leaping of the heroine from a rock,
and her plunging into the sea, while the ship of Theseus is seen
departing in the distance. It was found necessary that three Ariadnes,
similarly costumed, and identical in appearance, should lend their aid
to accomplish this thrilling termination. Mrs. Mowatt, as Ariadne the
first, paced the shore, and received the agonising intelligence of
the desertion of Theseus. A ballet-girl, as Ariadne the second,
climbed the rocks of the Island of Naxos, reaching the highest peak to
catch the last glimpse of the vanishing vessel. The third Ariadne was
a most lifelike lay figure, which, on a given signal, was hurled from
the cliff, and seen to fall into the abyss below.

The greatest difficulty seems to have been experienced at rehearsal in
persuading Ariadne the second even to walk up the steep rocks of
Naxos. The poor ballet-girl had been chosen for this duty less because
of her courage than on account of an accidental resemblance she bore
to Mrs. Mowatt. "She stopped and shrieked halfway, protested she was
dizzy, and might fall, and would not advance a step farther. After
about half-an-hour's delay, during which the poor girl was encouraged,
coaxed, and scolded abundantly, she allowed the carpenter, who had
planned the rocky pathway, to lead her carefully up and down the
declivity, and finally rushed up alone." At a certain cue she was
required to fall upon her face, concealed from the audience by an
intercepting rock, and then the lay figure took its flight through the
air.

The success of the performance appears to have been complete. The
substitution of the double for Ariadne, and the dummy for the double,
even puzzled spectators who were provided with powerful opera-glasses.
"The illusion was so perfect," Mrs. Mowatt writes, "that on the first
night of the representation, when Ariadne leaped from the rock, a man
started up in the pit, exclaiming in a tone of genuine horror: 'Good
God! she is killed!'" How this exclamation must have rejoiced the
heart of the stage-manager! For one would rather not consider the
possibility of the "man in the pit" having been placed there by that
functionary with due instructions as to when and what he was to
exclaim.

It is a sort of doubling when, in consequence of the illness or
absence of a performer, his part is read by some other member of the
company. In this way curious experiments have sometimes been made upon
public