At Worcester, where the train has made the usual stop, THE PORTER, with his lantern on his arm, enters the car, preceding a gentleman somewhat anxiously smiling; his nervous speech contrasts painfully with the business-like impassiveness of THE PORTER, who refuses, with an air of incredulity, to enter into the confidences which the gentleman seems reluctant to bestow.
MR.EDWARD ROBERTS.This is the Governor Marcy, isn't it? THE PORTER.Yes, sah.
MR.ROBERTS.Came on from Albany, and not from New York? THE PORTER.Yes, sah, it did.
MR.ROBERTS.Ah! it must be all right.I -
THE PORTER.Was your wife expecting you to come on board here?
MR.ROBERTS.Well, no, not exactly.She was expecting me to meet her at Boston.But I--[struggling to give the situation dignity, but failing, and throwing himself, with self-convicted silliness, upon THE PORTER'S mercy.] The fact is, I thought I would surprise her by joining her here.
THE PORTER (refusing to have any mercy).Oh! How did you expect to find her?
MR.ROBERTS.Well--well--I don't know.I didn't consider.[He looks down the aisle in despair at the close-drawn curtains of the berths, and up at the dangling hats and bags and bonnets, and down at the chaos of boots of both sexes on the floor.] I don't know HOW I expected to find her.
[MR.ROBERTS'S countenance falls, and he visibly sinks so low in his own esteem and an imaginary public opinion that THE PORTER begins to have a little compassion.]
THE PORTER.Dey's so many ladies on board _I_ couldn't find her.MR.ROBERTS.Oh, no, no, of course not.I didn't expect that.
THE PORTER.Don't like to go routing 'em all up, you know.I wouldn't be allowed to.
MR.ROBERTS.I don't ask it; that would be preposterous.THE PORTER.What sort of looking lady was she?
MR.ROBERTS.Well, I don't know, really.Not very tall, rather slight, blue eyes.I--I don't know what you'd call her nose.And-- stop! Oh yes, she had a child with her, a little boy.Yes!
THE PORTER (thoughtfully looking down the aisle).Dey was three ladies had children.I didn't notice whether dey was boys or girls, or WHAT dey was.Didn't have anybody with her?
MR.ROBERTS.No, no.Only the child.
THE PORTER.Well, I don't know what you are going to do, sah.It won't be a great while now till morning, you know.Here comes the conductor.Maybe he'll know what to do.
[MR.ROBERTS makes some futile, inarticulate attempts to prevent The PORTER from laying the case before THE CONDUCTOR, and then stands guiltily smiling, overwhelmed with the hopeless absurdity of his position.]
THE CONDUCTOR (entering the car, and stopping before THE PORTER, and looking at MR.ROBERTS).Gentleman want a berth? THE PORTER (grinning).Well, no, sah.He's lookin' for his wife.
THE CONDUCTOR (with suspicion).Is she aboard this car?
MR.ROBERTS (striving to propitiate THE CONDUCTOR by a dastardly amiability).Oh, yes, yes.There's no mistake about the car-- the Governor Marcy.She telegraphed the name just before you left Albany, so that I could find her at Boston in the morning.Ah!
THE CONDUCTOR.At Boston.[Sternly.] Then what are you trying to find her at Worcester in the middle of the night for?
MR.ROBERTS.Why--I--that is -
THE PORTER (taking compassion on MR.ROBERTS'S inability to continue).Says he wanted to surprise her.
MR.ROBERTS.Ha--yes, exactly.A little caprice, you know.
THE CONDUCTOR.Well, that may all be so.[MR.ROBERTS continues to smile in agonized helplessness against THE CONDUCTOR'S injurious tone, which becomes more and more offensively patronizing.] But _I_ can't do anything for you.Here are all these people asleep intheir berths, and I can't go round waking them up because you want to surprise your wife.
MR.ROBERTS.No, no; of course not.I never thought -THE CONDUCTOR.My advice to YOU is to have a berth made up, and go to bed till we get to Boston, and surprise your wife by telling her what you tried to do.
MR.ROBERTS (unable to resent the patronage of this suggestion).Well, I don't know but I will.
THE CONDUCTOR (going out).The porter will make up the berth for you.
MR.ROBERTS (to THE PORTER, who is about to pull down the upper berth over a vacant seat).Ah! Er--I--I don't think I'll trouble you to make it up; it's so near morning now.Just bring me a pillow, and I'll try to get a nap without lying down.
[He takes the vacant seat.] THE PORTER.All right, sah.
[He goes to the end of the car and returns with a pillow.] MR.ROBERTS.Ah--porter!
THE PORTER.Yes, sah.
MR.ROBERTS.Of course you didn't notice; but you don't think you DID notice who was in that berth yonder?
[He indicates a certain berth.]
THE PORTER.Dat's a gen'leman in dat berth, I think, sah.
MR.ROBERTS (astutely).There's a bonnet hanging from the hook at the top.I'm not sure, but it looks like my wife's bonnet.
THE PORTER (evidently shaken by this reasoning, but recovering his firmness).Yes, sah.But you can't depend upon de ladies to hang deir bonnets on de right hook.Jes' likely as not dat lady's took de hook at de foot of her berth instead o' de head.Sometimes dey takes both.
MR.ROBERTS.Ah![After a pause.]Porter! THE PORTER.Yes, sah.
MR.ROBERTS.You wouldn't feel justified in looking? THE PORTER.I couldn't, sah; I couldn't, indeed.
MR.ROBERTS (reaching his left hand toward THE PORTER'S, andpressing a half dollar into his instantly responsive palm).But there's nothing to prevent MY looking if I feel perfectly sure of the bonnet?
THE PORTER.N-no, sah.
MR.ROBERTS.All right.
[THE PORTER retires to the end of the car, and resumes the work of polishing the passengers' boots.After an interval of quiet, MR.ROBERTS rises, and, looking about him with what he feels to be melodramatic stealth, approaches the suspected berth.He unloops the curtain with a trembling hand, and peers ineffectually in; he advances his head further and further into the darkened recess, and then suddenly dodges back again, with THE CALIFORNIAN hanging to his neckcloth with one hand.]
THE CALIFORNIAN (savagely).What do you want?
