The Sleeping-Car | Page 6

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, and
pressing 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?
MR. ROBERTS (struggling and breathless). I--I--I want my wife.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Want your wife! Have I got your wife?
MR. ROBERTS. No--ah--that is--ah, excuse me--I thought you were
my wife.
THE CALIFORNIAN (getting out of the berth, but at the same time
keeping hold of MR. ROBERTS). Thought I was your wife! Do I look
like your wife? You can't play that on me, old man. Porter! conductor!
MR. ROBERTS (agonized). Oh, I beseech you, my dear sir,
don't--don't! I can explain it--I can indeed. I know it has an ugly look;
but if you will allow me two words--only two words--
MRS. ROBERTS (suddenly parting the curtain of her berth, and
springing out into the aisle, with her hair wildly dishevelled). Edward!
MR. ROBERTS. Oh, Agnes, explain to this gentleman! [Imploringly.]
Don't you know me?
A VOICE. Make him show you the strawberry mark on his left arm.
MRS. ROBERTS. Edward! Edward! [THE CALIFORNIAN
mechanically looses his grip, and they fly into each other's embrace.]

Where did you come from?
A VOICE. Centre door, left hand, one back.
THE CONDUCTOR (returning with his lantern). Hallo! What's the
matter here?
A VOICE. Train robbers! Throw up your hands! Tell the
express-messenger to bring his safe.
[The passengers emerge from their berths in various deshabille and
bewilderment.]
THE CONDUCTOR (to MR. ROBERTS). Have you been making all
this row, waking up my passengers?
THE CALIFORNIAN. No, sir, he hasn't. I've been making this row.
This gentleman was peaceably looking for his wife, and I
misunderstood him. You want to say anything to me?
THE CONDUCTOR (silently taking THE CALIFORNIAN'S measure
with his eye, as he stands six fret in his stockings). If I did, I'd get the
biggest brakeman I could find to do it for me. _I've_ got nothing to say
except that I think you'd better all go back to bed again.
[He goes out, and the passengers disappear one by one, leaving the
ROBERTSES and THE CALIFORNIAN alone.]
THE CALIFORNIAN (to MR. ROBERTS). Stranger, I'm sorry I got
you into this scrape.
MR. ROBERTS. Oh, don't speak of it, my dear sir. I'm sure we owe
you all sorts of apologies, which I shall be most happy to offer you at
my house in Boston, with every needful explanation. [He takes out his
card, and gives it to THE CALIFORNIAN, who looks at it, and then
looks at MR. ROBERTS curiously.] There's my address, and I'm sure
we shall both be glad to have you call.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, yes indeed. [THE CALIFORNIAN parts the
curtains of his berth to re-enter it.] Good-night, sir, and I assure you we
shall do nothing more to disturb you--shall we, Edward?
MR. ROBERTS. No. And now, dear, I think you'd better go back to
your berth.
MRS. ROBERTS. I couldn't sleep, and I shall not go back. Is this your
place? I will just rest my head on your shoulder; and we must both be
perfectly quiet. You've no idea what a nuisance I have