Read Online Cat Among the Pigeons by Julia Golding - Free Book Online

‘The Card’ from the gallery where he sat with his feet up on the rail.
    Other voices now made themselves heard from all sides.
    â€˜You tell ’em!’
    â€˜Hands off our Ariel!’
    â€˜Leave him alone!’
    Things were not going the way Hawkins had anticipated. The crowd loved their Pedro too much. He belonged to them, not to Hawkins. From then on, each speech by Ariel referring to his enslavement to Prospero was met with cheers of support. When Ariel reminded his master of his long-promised liberty, the audience broke into a storm of whistles and catcalls at Prospero’s refusal.
    â€˜Let him go, you beast!’ shrieked Miss Fortitude Miller, waving her fist at Hawkins sitting below her.
    â€˜Free him! Free him! Free him!’ chanted the young men in the gods. Footman Joseph wasconducting the call from the front rail, punching the air with each word.
    I don’t know how we got through the rest of the play. But seasoned professionals, the actors sailed through their scenes well aware that the real drama was taking place between Ariel and the audience that evening. Pedro was buoyed up by the overwhelming support he was receiving. He flitted about the stage as if on fire with magic, tumbling and spinning, acting and singing like a heaven-sent spirit.
    As the play neared its end, I could sense the tension building. We all knew what was to come in the last scene. As the final speech neared, Mr Kemble drew himself up with delighted anticipation. ‘My Ariel,’ he declared so every man, woman and child in the house could hear, ‘to the elements be free, and fare thou well!’
    The shout from the crowd was such that I expected the roof to fall in. Heaven knows what those outside thought was happening! Pedro leapt on his swing and was hauled up to the flies,his cloak-wings fluttering behind him.
    â€˜Free him! Free him!’ thundered the audience.
    Hawkins and his crew jeered and whistled, but their protest was lost in the hullabaloo of the crowd backing their boy. With Pedro now gone, the audience turned their attention on his former master. A shout of ‘Out! Out! Out!’ was now directed at Hawkins. Miss Miller senior leant over the edge of her box and stabbed her finger in the air in time with the chant. Her gesture was taken up by those around her and Hawkins found himself in the middle of a forest of fingers all pointing at him. He got up, raised two fingers to the audience in reply, and pushed his way out of the auditorium. The cheers that greeted his retreat were the loudest yet. My ears were ringing with them long after the epilogue had been delivered by a beaming Mr Kemble.
    After the performance, actors, friends and supporters spilled into the Green Room like foam from champagne.
    â€˜He daren’t touch you now, Pedro!’ bubbledFrank, downing a glass in celebration. ‘You’re the toast of the town.’
    â€˜Yes, you’re far too popular now – no one can enslave such talent,’ said Mr Kemble, raising a glass to his Ariel.
    â€˜You were magnificent!’ declared the duchess, planting one of her kisses on Pedro’s cheeks and another on a startled Mr Kemble.
    â€˜Dost thou know, I think the theatre is quite misunderstood,’ gushed Miss Prudence Miller, gazing at the actor-manager with admiration and tweaking her bonnet strings.
    Mr Equiano came to stand beside me as we watched the jubilant crowd swirl around our African Ariel.
    â€˜Well, you may just have saved him,’ he said, nodding at Pedro with a tender expression on his face. ‘You should feel proud of yourself.’
    I glowed at his praise. ‘He saved himself, sir. He faced down Hawkins by his superior talent.’
    â€˜True. You both deserve the credit.’ Equiano lowered his voice and turned me to look up at him.‘You’re closest to him – I can trust you to look out for him, can’t I?’ I nodded. ‘Don’t drop