A Halloween story
Master of Disguise
Entering a danse macabre
Not everyone knew yet about the new theater, but they soon would. The play Lord of Misrule was chosen for its grand opening night on Christmas Eve. I made my way through the snow, hurrying against the cold and bitter wind. Dark as it was, the glow of the gaslit streetlamp revealed the banner above the theater entrance and the name “Daniel Howland” clear to see. He was the star, the reason the crowds would come. Only, the director didn’t seem to realize this, for I saw his own name above Daniel’s in larger letters. The magic touch of Roger Ainsworth never failed to cause its own measure of darkness.
Perhaps, this night, I would see that altered once and for all.
Entering the theater, I was met by the brilliant light of crystal chandeliers and enchanted once again by the gilded ceiling of the vestibule. My feet sank into the royal blue carpet that had only just been set down and which also graced the steps of the grand staircase to my left. On the walls were familiar scenes from productions, most of them Shakespearean. The glittering forest in Midsummer Night’s Dream had been one of the finest of…
