Beloved Scoundrel (14 page)

“No,” the handsome actor said with a lean smile. A pistol makes a noise. It is not the ideal weapon.”

“You should be armed,” she said. “So should I!”

“I am armed,” he told her, “so you need not worry.”

“Armed?” she questioned this.

“If I must convince you,” he said with some annoyance. He held up the silver-topped walking stick. “Look!” And as he spoke he twisted the top off the walking stick and drew a dagger about a foot and a half long from the stick.

She stared at it. “So that is why you always carry that walking stick!”

“One of the reasons,” he said, returning it to its hiding place. “So you need not feel defenseless when you are with me. ’

“I know what it means,” she told him. “That fellow is a Confederate spy and you are helping him as much as you dare. “

“I will not deny such a novel theory,” he said in his mocking fashion. “I’m now going to dress. And you will do well to concentrate on Phelia and forget all this other nonsense.”

He left before she could make any further argument. But she was now more convinced than ever that John Wilkes Booth and the ugly hunchback were members of a Rebel spy ring. Perhaps word that Lincoln was attending the evening’s performance had drawn the hunchback to the theatre.

The call boy came with five minutes’ warning. She did some last minute touches on her make-up in the mirror and allowed Gloria to fuss over her dress a little before going down to the stage. When she reached the dimly-lit backstage she was aware of an unusual tension there.

The stage manager came and in a hushed voice informed her, “The President and his party have just seated in the lower left box!”

“Then he did come!”

“Yes,” the stage manager said. “You can take a look at him before the curtain goes up if you like. Mr. Booth is out on stage now taking a peek.”

“I must do that,” she agreed. And lifting her long skirt so that it would not trip her she hurried out onto the stage proper. John Wilkes Booth, in his Hamlet costume, was standing at the peephole in the curtain intently watching the box in which the President and his party were sitting.

He paid no attention to her so she touched his arm and said, “Don’t be selfish! Let me have a look!”

He turned away from the peephole with a strange expression on his handsome, mustached face. He ran a hand through his curly hair.

He said, “I’ve been thinking! Remove that man and the war would end almost at once!”

She stared at him. “You can’t believe that?”

“It’s true,” Booth said, his eyes bright with a mad look. “He is the one most responsible for the bloodshed. A single shot directed properly could end his tyranny!”

“You’re frightening me!” she gasped. “Don’t let the others hear you talking in this mad way!”

Booth ranted on, “Or perhaps it would be better to kidnap him and hold him hostage until the Union agreed to make peace on fair terms with the Confederacy!”

The stage manager appeared at this moment looking anxious. “Please clear the stage. It is time to begin!”

“And we mustn’t keep the Emperor waiting!” Booth said in disdain and stalked off.

The stage manager looked at her. “What has happened to him?”

“He’s tense and filled with concern about how the play will go tonight.”

“We all feel that,” the stage manager said.

She took a fleeting moment to place her eye at the peephole and get a view of the President. She fixed her eye on the box just as he stood to welcome someone. A tall thin man with a short beard and a weary smile. He looked remarkably frail to carry the weight of a civil war upon his shoulders.

She quickly left the peephole and told the stage manager. “Thank you. I had a good look at him.”

The curtain rose on a house crowded from front row orchestra to the standees at the rear of the upper balcony. In certain theatres this top section had become known by the colloquial term “nigger heaven” since this was where any black people sat. A hush fell over the house as the play began. By the time Fanny made her entrance she had no fears about the success of the evening.

All the company were doing their best work. Fanny had never thrilled to the talents of an actor before as she did in the case of John Wilkes Booth. His Hamlet was all that she had expected. His monologues were electrifying and when he exchanged his lines with her it seemed that the play flowed like a piece of fine music!

It was a long, arduous evening and not until the final curtain could any of them relax. The heavy applause at their curtain calls, ending in a standing ovation, left no doubt in any mind that this evening Washington had been treated to a very special
Hamlet.

A perspiring John Wilkes Booth came and took her in his arms as the curtain came down for the final time. He kissed her tenderly and said. “It was a triumph!”

“You were magnificent!” she told him.

“And you, and all of them,” Booth said in good humor. “We climbed the mountain together.”

He was leading her offstage when the stage manager made an excited appearance. He came up to them and in a breathless fashion said, “I’ve just come from speaking with President Lincoln. He has asked me to tell you that he has always preferred to read Shakespeare in the quiet of his study rather than seeing him acted. But tonight you made the theatrical treatment both acceptable and outstanding. He sends you both his personal congratulations.”

John Wilkes Booth received the news coldly. “So the great one has chosen to acknowledge us!”

She took his arm and said, “I’m flattered and very proud.”

“You are as much taken in by this charlatan in the White House as everyone else,” Booth said angrily.

“I think he is a good man and a better President than you will admit,” she said. “And I hope no harm comes to him from that hunchback friend of yours.”

Strangely this changed the actor’s mood. He looked less angry and said, “I would not worry about that.”

Chapter 7

So Fanny found herself partner in another love affair which she had not planned. She knew that John Wilkes Booth was genuine enough in his caring for her and would marry her if she would accept him. For her part, she was fond of him, but she did not know that she was truly in love with him. She had great respect for him as an actor but as a man it was his instability which worried her!

Attentive as a lover, he was still a man divided. There was that other side of him dedicated to an almost naive belief that he could remove all compromise and hypocrisy from politics. He believed firmly in the nobility of the Southern cause, closing his eyes to the weaknesses of the Confederacy. The Union remained all dark in his eyes. Lincoln and all he stood for was wrong! There was no arguing sensibly with him about these things.

Fanny hoped at first, that as her lover, she would have more influence over him in this other sphere. But it was not to be this way. He would spend long hours with her and then vanish without warning. She sometimes found it difficult to locate him for rehearsals and once he almost missed a performance.

She was standing on the landing outside his dressing room door with Nancy discussing the seriousness of his not appearing when he came running up the iron stairway to join them. He looked weary and his trousers and shoes were spattered with mud.

She challenged him, “Where have you been?”

“Out riding,” the handsome, dark-haired actor said calmly.

“Riding?” she echoed. “It is a miserable, rainy evening! That makes no sense! You’re almost late for the curtain!”

His reaction was to smile and take her roughly in his arms and kiss her. Then pushing her aside, he hurried into his dressing room, calling after him, “I’ll be down there in time!”

Fanny exchanged a resigned glance with Nancy and sighed, “You see how it is!”

“Don’t worry!” the other girl said. “He’ll be all right.”

They were playing a new melodrama based on the opera
Rigoletto.
The play was titled
A Fool’s Revenge
and the leading role in it had been a starring vehicle for Edwin Booth on many occasions.

John Wilkes had pleaded with Fanny to include it in their itinerary and she’d finally let him persuade her. She played a fairly minor role of the betrayed daughter while John Wilkes reveled in the part of “Bertuccio,” the court jester who unknowingly helps kidnap his daughter and hand her over to a libertine!

John Wilkes had been excellent in the part in rehearsal and there seemed every chance of it being a hit. But on this important night his playing was uneven. He appeared weary and without vitality for most of the play and then, as if sensing, he was not living up to the part, he began to exaggerate it and act too melodramatically. Even at that the crowd liked the play and it was applauded as a hit.

When the final curtain call was taken and the curtain lowered John Wilkes moved away from her, quickly unwilling to accept her look of reproach. It was only later when they were in bed together that she was able to directly discuss it with him.

Leaning on an elbow she gently traced a pattern on his handsome, mustached face with her forefinger. And with a rueful smile said, “You know you gave a bad performance tonight?”

His eyes twinkled as he gazed up at her from the pillow and said, “You seemed perfectly satisfied!”

Fanny blushed, and said, “You know what I mean! On stage.”

He reached up and caressed her bare breast and in a low voice begged her, “Must we talk of this now?”

She removed his hand and her eyes meeting his, said, “Yes. You were not nearly as good tonight as you were at rehearsals: Is this the way you plan to win your brother Edwin’s crown?”

He frowned slightly. “It won’t happen again!”

“You have given poor performances several times lately,” she reminded him. “And almost always because you’ve arrived at the theatre late and weary.”

He sighed. “It is a bad time! Meade’s cursed army defeated Lee at Gettysburg. And Lincoln makes that mincing speech of his at the Gettysburg cemetery! Little he cares how the South bleeds!”

She studied him worriedly. “When I convinced Mr. Barnum he could safely use you, you promised me you would not take such an active interest in the war!”

He sat up, his eyes showing anger. “I could never have promised anything of the sort!”

“You did.”

“Then I was wrong. I was so mad for your love I was ready to promise anything!”

“And now that you have possessed me, you do not think you need keep your word?”

He looked shamed and placed an arm about her, bringing her naked body close to his. “You know that is not so,” he said and kissed her gently.

“Then why?”

“I cannot desert my friends in the South,” he told her. “They depend on me.”

She eyed him soberly. “For secret information? Information you wheedle out of your Washington friends at parties.”

John Wilkes gave a small groan. “There is much more to it than that. Do you realize the South is in desperate need of food and medical supplies?”

“You are supposed to be neutral. As an actor you are allowed to cross the lines.”

“I realize all that,” he said. “But I cannot turn my back on what I believe to be right!”

“Where were you today? Out riding somewhere to pass along some information to a Southern spy?”

“I had to see someone a distance outside Washington,” he said. “Never mind why!”

“I’m terrified for you! For us! What will happen if you are discovered to be a spy?”

“That will not happen,” he said.

“And that dreadful little man who follows us about, the hunchback! I know he is one of your

Confederate spies. That is why he is always lurking about!”

“Believe what you like!”

“I can only pray that we will soon move on to

New York,” she said. “At least you will be further away from the conflict there.”

The actor gave her a moody glance. “I’m not sure I want to play in New York.”

Her eyes widened. “But that has always been your ambition!”

“It can wait.”

“You’ll never have another such chance,” she reminded him. “Not when your brother Edwin returns.”

“From what I hear he may remain in England a long while.”

“You can’t count on that,” she told him. And then quite shamelessly lifting his hand and placing it on one of her breasts again, she asked softly, “There is also the chance you might lose me to someone else.”

“Then it shall be New York!” he said hoarsely as he drew her close again and their lips met.

It was their last week in Washington. Nancy Ray came to her at the hotel and in an apologetic tone told her, “I’m afraid I will not be able to go to New York with the company, Fanny.”

Fanny stared at the pretty blonde girl. “Whyever not?”

“Tom,” Nancy said quietly.

“Oh,” she said, remembering. “The blind boy at the military hospital.”

“Yes. I can’t desert him.”

Fanny said, “He was once an actor himself. He knows the claims the business has on us. Is he not able to understand your leaving him?”

There were near tears in the eyes of the fragile, bonneted actress. “I don’t wish to leave him,” she explained.

Fanny moved to the window of her hotel room and gazed down into the street where a small formation of men in blue were marching along with an officer at their side. She said, “So you wish to remain here near him?”

“Yes,” the girl said. “He will be leaving the hospital in a week or so. He will need somebody.”

She looked across the room at the other girl and said gently, “You are ready to sacrifice your career for this Tom Miller?”

“Yes. I can get work in the company which is coming into our theatre. In that way I can stay in Washington with him.”

Fanny sighed. “I shall miss you. As an actress and as a friend. But what can I say?”

The rose-bonneted Nancy got up from her chair and ran impulsively towards her and threw her arms around her. “Dear Fanny! I knew you’d understand! You will tell Mr. Booth also.”

“I will,” she promised.

Nancy’s eyes were bright with a happiness she could wish for her own, as the girl said, “Tom is following your suggestion. He is composing a play. I’m helping him put it down. A truly funny comedy!”

Fanny laughed. “Good! Remember I have promised to give it a production.”

“He’ll send it to you as soon as it is finished,” Nancy promised.

Fanny was sorry to learn the pretty ingenue’s decision. It meant one less close friend to be with her. Nancy had been one of the first people she’d met after arriving in America.

In the last days of their Washington engagement Fanny was constantly concerned about the absences of John Wilkes Booth. He vanished after the play one Saturday night and did not show himself again until shortly before curtain time on Monday evening. She knew he had ridden somewhere behind the Southern lines. It was certain he was still supplying the Confederates with all the secret information he could secure in Washington.

Her only comfort was that they were moving on to the engagement in New York. One night he left the theatre without waiting for her and this was unusual. He normally had a carriage for them both. She asked the stage manager to get her a carriage and waited by the stage door until he came back to tell her it was waiting.

She thanked him and went out the dark alley and the old stage manager helped her inside the carriage and gave the driver the address to her hotel. It was not until the vehicle was on the move that she was horrified to discover she was not the only passenger in it!

Seated across from her in the near darkness was the figure of the hunchback in the stove pipe hat and brown suit. The ugly, little man’s face wore a grin of triumph.

“Not expecting me, Mrs. Cornish,” he said softly.

She drew back. “Leave this carriage or I will scream for help!”

“You’d better not!” he warned her. “We are all playing the same game, Mrs. Cornish. You and I and John Wilkes Booth!”

She knew he was making a veiled reference to the spying of her lover. She said, “I don’t wish to be dragged into any of it.”

“Do you have any choice?” the hunchback asked, leaning over to her.

“Please!’ she begged him, near tears. “I have nothing to tell you!”

“You could be useful to us, Mrs. Cornish,” he said. “I suggest you think it over.”

“No.”

“Do not be hasty.” he warned her. “You can easily be ruined. You and your wild-tempered lover.”

She said angrily, “You have made John a party to your game! Do not expect me to help.”

The hunchback laughed softly. “You do not understand me, I fear. When you are needed you will be called upon! And you will do as you are told!”

She gasped as he reached out and took her arm in an iron grip. He held it for a long painful moment and then with a cruel smile on his ape-like face he let her go. In the next instant he threw open the door and leapt out of the slow-moving carriage.

Fanny stared after him in the darkness and he was lost in a moment. She managed to shut the carriage door and lay back on the seat with her heart pounding from the frightening experience. This was the boldest move yet on the part of the Southern spy ring to involve her. She could only be grateful that in a few days she would be safely in New York. But would it be safe?

She waited up for John Wilkes Booth that night. He arrived in their room shortly after midnight and showed some surprise at finding her fully dressed.

He put down his tophat and cane and said, “I expected you would be in bed.”

Fanny moved towards him. “You hoped I would.”

“Sorry to be late,” he said. “I met some friends. The big talk tonight is that General Ulysses S. Grant has been named commander of the Union Army.”

“Why should that be a vital concern of ours?”

The handsome John looked surprised. “You must be interested? Grant is known to be a drunkard! With some lucK he will destroy the Northern cause!”

“You think so?”

“My friends do and I agree,” he said.

She said, “You left me at the theatre tonight. I had to find my way home alone.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I had to meet someone. I was late for the appointment.”

“I can imagine,” she said bitterly. “Perhaps it will interest you to know that on my way home in my coach I was attacked by one of your southem spies!”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You’d better,” she said. “That hunchback! The one who followed me and kept waiting around the theatre! The one I saw you talking to! He secreted himself in the coach and made threatening advances towards me!”

John Wilkes Booth looked shocked. “The hunchback,” he echoed.

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much that made sense.”

Her lover was plainly agitated. “You must try and remember! What did he tell you?”