Part 3

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. 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?

THE UPPER BERTH. By your voice and your shaggy personal appearance I shouldn't have taken you for a lady--no, sir. But the light is very imperfect; you may be a bearded lady.

THE CALIFORNIAN. You never mind about my looks. The question is, Do you want your head rapped up against the side of this car?

THE UPPER BERTH. With all the frankness of your own Pacific slope, no.

MRS. ROBERTS (hastily reappearing). Oh, no, no, don't hurt him. He's not to blame. I was wrong to keep on talking. Oh, please don't hurt him!

THE CALIFORNIAN (to THE UPPER BERTH). You hear? Well, now, don't you speak another word to that lady tonight. Just go on, ma'am, and free your mind on any little matter you like. I don't want any sleep. How long has your brother been in California?

MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, don't let's talk about it now; I don't want to talk about it. I thought--I thought--Good-night. Oh, dear! I didn't suppose I was making so much trouble. I didn't mean to disturb anybody. I--

THE CALIFORNIAN. For half a cent I would rap your head up against that wall. Making the lady cry, and getting me so mad I can't sleep! Now see here, you just apologize. You beg that lady's pardon, or I'll have you out of there before you know yourself. [Cries of "Good!" "That's right!" and "Make him show himself!" hail MRS. ROBERTS'S champion, and heads, more or less dishevelled, are thrust from every berth. MRS. ROBERTS remains invisible and silent, and the loud and somewhat complicated respiration of her AUNT makes itself heard in the general hush of expectancy. A remark to the effect that "The old lady seems to enjoy her rest" achieves a facile applause. THE CALIFORNIAN again addresses the culprit.] Come, now, what do you say? I'll give you just one-half a minute.

MRS. ROBERTS (from her shelter). Oh, please, please don't make him say anything. It was very trying in me to keep him awake, and I know he didn't mean any offence. Oh, do let him be!

THE CALIFORNIAN. You hear that? You stay quiet the rest of the time; and if that lady choses to keep us all awake the whole night, don't you say a word, or I'll settle with you in the morning.

A VOICE. Oh, don't just bow. Speak!

THE CALIFORNIAN. Gentlemen, you're too many for me.

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--