The Travelling Companions. F. Anstey

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to go round and hev a talk with that man, and ask him what in thunder he means by it, and kinder hint that he'll hev the Amurrcan Consul in his hair pretty smart, if he don't look slippier!

      [The Clerk mildly suggests that it would be better to communicate directly with the American Consulate, or with the tradesman himself.

      The A. C. But hold on—how'm I goin' to write to that sharp, when I've lost his address, and disremember his name? Can't you mail a few particulars to your agent, so he'll identify him? No? (Disappointed.) Well, I thought you'd ha' fixed up a little thing like that, anyhow; in my country they'd ha' done it right away. Yes, Sir!

      [He goes away in grieved surprise.

      Enter Mr. James Podbury, age twenty-six; in a City Office; short, fresh-coloured, jaunty; close-cut dark hair. Not having been to the City to-day, he is wearing light tweeds, and brown boots.

       Yes, Sir

      Podbury (to himself). Just nicked it—(looks at clock)—more or less. And he doesn't seem to have turned up yet. Wonder how we shall hit it off together. Hughie Rose said he was a capital good chap—when you once got over his manner. Anyhow, it's a great tip to go abroad with a fellow who knows the ropes. (Suddenly sees Culchard absorbed in his note-book.) So here you are, eh?

      Culch. (slightly scandalized by the tweeds and the brown boots). Yes, I've been here some little time. I wish you could have managed to come before, because they close early here to-day, and I wanted to go thoroughly over the tour I sketched out before getting the tickets.

      [He produces an elaborate outline.

      Podb. (easily). Oh, that's all right! I don't care where I go! All I want is, to see as much as we can in the time—leave all the rest to you. I'll sit here while you get the tickets.

      An Old Lady (to Clerk, as Culchard is waiting at the counter). Oh, I beg your pardon, but could you inform me if the 1·55 train from Calais to Basle stops long enough for refreshments anywhere, and where they examine the luggage, and if I can leave my hand-bag in the carriage, and whether there is an English service at Yodeldorf, and is it held in the hotel, and Evangelical, or High Church, and are the sittings free, and what Hymn-book they use?

      [The Clerk sets her mind free on as many of these points as he can, and then attends to Culchard.

      Culch. (returning to Podbury with two cases bulging with books of coloured coupons). Here are yours. I should like you to run your eye over them, and see that they are correct, if you don't mind.

      Podb. (stuffing them in his pocket). Can't be bothered now. Take your word for it.

      Culch. No—but considering that we start the first thing to-morrow morning, wouldn't it be as well to have some idea of where you're going? And, by the way, excuse me, but is it altogether prudent to keep your tickets in an outside pocket like that? I always keep mine, with my money, in a special case in an inner pocket, with a buttoned flap—then I know I can't lose them.

      Podb. Anything for a quiet life! (He examines his coupons.) Dover to Ostend? Never been there—like to see what Ostend's like. But why didn't you go by Calais?—shorter, you know.

      Culch. Because I thought we'd see Bruges and Ghent on our way to Brussels.

      Podb. Bruges, eh? Capital! Anything particular going on there? No? It don't matter. And Ghent—let's see, wasn't that where they brought the good news from? Yes, we'll stop at Ghent—if we've time. Then—Brussels? Good deal of work to be done there, I suppose, sightseeing, and that? I like a place where you can moon about without being bothered myself; now, at Brussels—never mind, I was only thinking.

      Culch. It's the best place to get to Cologne and up the Rhine from. Then, you see, we go rather out of our way to Nuremberg——

      Podb. Where they make toys? I know—pretty festive there, eh?

      Culch. I don't know about festive—but it is—er—a quaint, and highly interesting old place. Then I thought we'd dip down to Constance, and strike across the Alps to the Italian Lakes.

      Podb. Italian Lakes? First-rate! Yes, they're worth seeing, I suppose. Think they're better than the Swiss ones, though?

      Culch. (tolerantly). I can get the coupons changed for Switzerland if you prefer it. The Swiss Lakes may be the more picturesque.

      Podb. Yes, we'll do Switzerland—and run back by Paris, eh? Not much to do in Switzerland, though, after all!

      Culch. (with a faintly superior smile). There are one or two mountains, I believe. But, personally, I should prefer Italy.

      Podb. So should I. No fun in mountains—unless you go up 'em. What do you think of choosing some quiet place, where nobody ever goes—say in France or Germany—and, sticking to that. More of a rest, wouldn't it be? such a bore having to know a lot of people!

      Culch. I don't see how we can change all the tickets, really. If you like, we could stop a week at St. Goarshausen.

      Podb. What's St. Goarshausen like—cheery?

      Culch. I understood the idea was to keep away from our fellow countrymen, and as far as I can remember St. Goarshausen, it is not overrun with tourists—we should be quiet enough there.

      Podb. That's the place for me, then. Or could we push on to Vienna? Never seen Vienna.

      Culch. If you like to give up Italy altogether.

      Podb. What do you say to beginning with Italy and working back? Too hot, eh? Well, then, we'll let things be as they are—I dare say it will do well enough. So that's settled!

      Culch. (to himself on parting, after final arrangements concluded). I wish Rose had warned me that Podbury's habit of mind was so painfully desultory. (He sighs.) However——

      Podb. (to himself). Wonder how long I shall take to get over Culchard's manner. (He sighs.) I wish old Hughie was coming—he'd give me a leg over! [He walks on thoughtfully.

CHAPTER II.

       Table of Contents

Podbury picks up Acquaintances.

       Table of Contents

      Scene—Courtyard of the "Grand Hôtel du Lion Belgique et d'Albion," at Brussels. It is just after table d'hôte; Podbury and Culchard are sitting on a covered terrace, with coffee.

      Podbury (producing a pipe). Not such a bad dinner! Expect they'll rook us a lot for it, though. Rather fun, seeing the waiters all troop in with a fresh course, when the proprietor rang his bell. Like a ballet at the Empire—eh?

      Culchard СКАЧАТЬ