On the contrary, he was greatly interested and kept pausing in order to look at the sceneshifters' maneuvers.

A batten had just been lowered, and the group of gaslights high up among its iron crossbars illuminated the stage with a wide beam of light.

Muffat, who had never yet been behind scenes at a theater, was even more astonished than the rest.

An uneasy feeling of mingled fear and vague repugnance took possession of him.

He looked up into the heights above him, where more battens, the gas jets on which were burning low, gleamed like galaxies of little bluish stars amid a chaos of iron rods, connecting lines of all sizes, hanging stages and canvases spread out in space, like huge cloths hung out to dry.
"Lower away!" shouted the foreman unexpectedly.
And the prince himself had to warn the count, for a canvas was descending.