FullReads

[A shaggy head and bearded face are thrust from the curtains of the next berth.]

THE STRANGER: Look here, ma’am. I don’t want to be disagreeable about this thing, and I hope you won’t take any offence; but the fact is, I’m half dead for want of sleep, and if you’ll only keep quiet now a little while, I’ll promise not to speak above my breath if ever I find you on a sleeping-car after you’ve come straight through from San Francisco, day and night, and not been able to get more than about a quarter of your usual allowance of rest–I will indeed.

MRS. ROBERTS: I’m very sorry that I’ve disturbed you, and I’ll try to be more quiet. I didn’t suppose I was speaking so loud; but the cars keep up such a rattling that you never can tell how loud you are speaking. Did I understand you to say that you were from California?

THE CALIFORNIAN: Yes, ma’am.

MRS. ROBERTS: San Francisco?

THE CALIFORNIAN: Yes, ma’am.

MRS. ROBERTS: Thanks. It’s a terribly long journey, isn’t it? I know quite how to feel for you. I’ve a brother myself coming on. In fact we expected him before this. [She scans his face as sharply as the lamp- light will allow, and continues, after a brief hesitation.] It’s always such a silly question to ask a person, and I suppose San Francisco is a large place, with a great many people always coming and going, so that it would be only one chance in a thousand if you did.

THE CALIFORNIAN
(patiently). Did what, ma’am?

MRS. ROBERTS: Oh, I was just wondering if it was possible–but of course it isn’t, and it’s very flat to ask–that you’d ever happened to meet my brother there. His name is Willis Campbell.

THE CALIFORNIAN
(with more interest). Campbell? Campbell? Yes, I know a man of that name. But I disremember his first name. Little low fellow–pretty chunky?

MRS. ROBERTS: I don’t know. Do you mean short and stout?

THE CALIFORNIAN: Yes, ma’am.

MRS. ROBERTS: I’m sure I can’t tell. It’s a great many years since he went out there, and I’ve never seen him in all that time. I thought if you did happen to know him–He’s a lawyer.

THE CALIFORNIAN: It’s quite likely I know him; and in the morning, ma’am–

MRS. ROBERTS: Oh, excuse me. I’m very sorry to have kept you so long awake with my silly questions.

THE MAN IN THE UPPER BERTH: Don’t apologize, madam. I’m not a Californian myself, but I’m an orphan, and away from home, and I thank you, on behalf of all our fellow-passengers, for the mental refreshment that your conversation has afforded us. I could lie here and listen to it all night; but there are invalids in some of these berths, and perhaps on their account it will be as well to defer everything till the morning, as our friend suggests. Allow me to wish you pleasant dreams, madam.

[THE CALIFORNIAN, while MRS. ROBERTS shrinks back under the curtain of her berth in dismay, and stammers some inaudible excuse, slowly emerges full length from his berth.]

THE CALIFORNIAN: Don’t you mind me, ma’am; I’ve got everything but my boots and coat on. Now, then [standing beside the berth, and looking in upon the man in the upper tier], you, do you know that this is a lady you’re talking to?