FullReads

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?