FICTION.

THE SWALLOW DIVE.*

MR. ANTHONY TROLLOPE in one 'of his novels once made a praise- worthy endeavour to put what he described as " the cart before the horse," that is, to plunge, as is the custom of more modem novelists, into the amusing events of the story (the cart) and to allow the dull necessary explanations (the horse) merely to appear incidentally in the course of the opening chapters. Mrs. Lynd, however, does not make any such attempt to save the feelings of her readers. On the contrary, she gives seven solid chapters of " horse " in which, the family circumstances of the heroine, Caroline Barrett, are set out in.minute detail. It .must not be supposed that these chapters are dull reading. Not at all. If they were a necessary background from which Caroline's subsequent stage life -developed they would be extremely interesting. Probably the author would contend that the contrast between the circle of conventional relations in which Caroline is brought up, and the extraordinary mixture of Bohemianism and Socialism in which her mother lives, must -be described in detail in order that the character of the heroine may be properly appreciated .and the motives of -her actions understood. Whether this contention is true or not, it is certain that the story becomes much more amusing when Caroline, on the death of her grandfather, leaves the care of her tiresome aunt and sets up in rooms near her mother in order to go -on the stage. The life of the girl who joins the modem beauty chorus has been so minutely detailed of late that the most unsophisticated reader thinks he knows all about it. Since, however, the days of Nicholas Nickleby no more amusing account of a production has been set forth than that given in Chapter II., which describes the first night of the great ".spectacle " of Antioch at the Paulette Theatre. The play is concerned with the Seventh Crusade and opens • on St. Louis of France speeding the Crusaders 4—

" St. Louis stands up. More curtsies. St. Louis is making -his farewell address to the knights in excellent Wardour Street English. At rehearsals he used to say : ' Ti-tumpty, tumpty. Something or other. Cross myself with right hand. Something or other. Lift the left hand. Something or other. Ti- tumpty-tumpty. And God bless the right.

Later the scene passes to the East:— "And now they are back in the Sultan's garden. Marion Vaughan has been captured. The negroes paddle her in a boat up the river. There are benches of white marble, pierced trellises, flowering trees. The girls in their Eastern dresses lounge like Alma Tadema figures. There are Persian rugs, cushions, a hookah, also Turkish delight (property, unfortu- nately). Margot Rogers has -her three lines now and Etta. Duveen has her two. It is Juliet St. Stair's big scene, in which she falls in love with Marion Vaughan's description of a Christian

knight One of the negroes is beaten to death (off), Clarence Vesey discards a favourite—Miss St. Stair—(on). Every inch of the stage is utilized. There is no time to pass behind the back-cloth."

Later there is a most entertaining escape Vivian Nash has broken gaol and Miss St. Stair. .is hiding him. She is becoming a Christian for his sake in the moonlit • garden. ' They change the air. Now in soft minor chords they sing :— I've lost my way Till break of day, You must not stray, I've lost my way

• The Swallow Dire. By Sylvia Lynd. London: Canes. (Ce. 6d. net.1 Miss St. Stair is saying : Weel you nowt keels my leaps ? ' She feels that that will help her conversion."

" Six men in bowler hats run to the boat now and grasp it. The veins stand out on their tatooed forearms. The stage is full of agitation. Miss St. Stair is pacing to. and ft-% like a panther. Be swift. Be swift.' Bettie Bates, cloaked, and hooded, leaps in and seizes the paddle with which, apparently, the boat is punted. The men in bowler hats whisper hoarsely, All together.'

It comes—it comes 1' cries Marion Vaughan, ecstatically. Farewell, my knight, for still I call thee mine.' Lights, there are lights, lights yonder in the palace.'

Oh, be swift.'

Twenty mamelukes who have been leaning with folded arms against the whitewashed wall of the stage boost themselves into erect postures-and advance to the entrance, murmuring in bored voices : Ardee, erdee, ardee, kill 'er, kill 'er ! '

Come, too, we beseech thee, we cannot abandon thee.'

Miss St. Stair will wreck the whole caboodle with her self- sacrifice. The audience is leaning forward in its seats, stiff with excitement.

Make haste Make haste ! '

Clang, clash '—the warden of the gates (a property man in a check cap) is raising the alarm. The great gong resounds and thunders. The mamelukes with a snarl bound on to the stage and draw their scimitars. . . . Away. Away ! ' " Whether the escaping party gets away or not is left uncertain, every one being much too busy rushing up the stairs to get ready for the Siege of Constantinople, as to which it is not

quite clear who besieges whom and why. Nevertheless, Antioch is a great success, and Caroline, having attracted the favourable

notice of the actor-manager, becomes a person of great importance. She, however, makes no advance in her profession, for owing to a quarrel with the fickle great man she is not given a contract at the end of the piece until she becomes

involved in remarkable doings of her own. These, indeed, rival the production of Antioch in confusion and unintelligibility.

As far as the reader can gather, Caroline promises to elope with the deserted husband of the leading lady, and, repenting at the last moment, takes instead a platonic journey to Ireland

with someone else. Lover No. 1 commits suicide in her room on being thrown over, and directly Caroline is involved in this sensational scandal she is offered a small new part in the new edition of Antioch, that of "An Odalisque of Incomparable Beauty." The reader, however, feels that he leaves the heroine about to give up stage life and to marry the gentleman with whom she has taken the Irish journey. The book is a chaos of brilliant episodes—it is ethically quite irresponsible—

for the world behind the curtain seems to be bound by no canons of morality whatever. The hint at the end that Caroline, tired of the glitter and bustle, means to throw over the stage for an everyday marriage, may show that the author is herself on the side of the angels—otherwise she appears to regard the doings of her heroine with complete complacency.