The Sleeping-Car | Page 5

at
last, as the car lunges onward through the darkness, nothing is heard
but the rhythmical clank of the machinery, with now and then a burst of
audible slumber from MRS. ROBERTS'S aunt MARY.]

II.
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 in their 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