The Travelling Companions Part 22

CULCH. They won't know it was not intentional. And I think, Podbury, we should go on--er--a.s.serting ourselves a little while by holding rather aloof. It will show them that we don't mean to put up with----

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HI! OTEZ-MOI CECI!"]

PODB. Don't see that either. Not going to let that beast, Van Boodeler, have it _all_ his own way!

CULCH. Surely you know he decided suddenly to stay at Vicenza? He said so at breakfast. But I will _not_ have your friend Bob perpetually----

PODB. At breakfast? Oh, I came down late. Vicenza, eh? Then _he's_ out of it! Hooray! But as for Bob, _he's_ all right too. Oh, I forgot you cut _dejeuner_. Hypatia had another squabble with Miss Trotter, and poor old Bob got dragged into it as usual, and now they ain't on speaking terms.

CULCH. (_overjoyed_). You don't say so! Then all _I_ can say, Podbury, is that if we two can't manage, in a place like this, to recover all the ground we have lost----

PODB. More water than ground in a place like this, eh? But _I_ know what you mean--we _must_ be duffers if we don't leave Venice engaged men--which we're not as yet, worse luck!

CULCH. No--but we _shall_ be, if we only insist upon being treated seriously.

PODB. She treats me a devilish deal _too_ seriously, my boy. But there, never mind--things will go better now!

SCENE--_A double-bedded room in the Grand Hotel Dandolo, which_ PODBURY _and_ CULCHARD _have to share for the night._

PODB. (_from his bed, suspiciously, to_ CULCHARD, _who is setting fire to a small pastille in a soap-dish_). I say, old chappie, bar _fireworks_, you know! What the deuce _are_ you up to over there?

CULCH. Lighting a "fidibus." Splendid thing to drive out mosquitoes.

(_The pastille fizzes, and begins to emit a dense white smoke, and a suffocating odour._)

PODB. (_bounding_). Mosquitoes! It would drive a _dragon_ out. Phew--ah!

(CULCHARD _closes the window_.) You _don't_ mean to say you're going to shut me up in this infernal reek on a stifling night like this?

CULCH. If I didn't, the mosquitoes would come in again.

PODB. Come in? With that pastille doing the young Vesuvius! _Do_ you think a mosquito's a born fool? (_He jumps out and opens the window._) I'm not going to be smoked like a wasp's nest, _I_ can tell you!

CULCH. (_calmly shutting it again, as_ PODBURY _returns to bed_). You'll be grateful to me by-and-by.

[_Slips between his mosquito curtains in a gingerly manner, and switches off the electric light. A silence._

PODB. I say, you ain't asleep, are you? Think we shall see anything of them to-morrow, eh?

CULCH. See? I can _hear_ one singing in my ear at this moment.

(_Irritably._) You _would_ open the window!

PODB. (_sleepily_). Not mosquitoes. I meant Hypatia, and the--haw--yaw--Trotters.

CULCH. How can _I_ tell? (_Second silence._) Podbury! What did I _tell_ you? One's just bitten me--the _beast_! (_He turns on the light, and slaps about frantically_). I say, I can hear him buzzing all over the place!

PODB. So can I hear _you_ buzzing. How the d.i.c.kens is a fellow to get to sleep while you're playing Punch and Judy in there?

CULCH. He's got me on the nose now! There's a lot outside. Just turn off the light, will you? I daren't put my arm out. (_To_ Mosquito.) You brute! (_To_ PODB.) Podbury, _do_ switch off the light--like a good fellow!

PODB. (_dreamily_). Gla.s.s up, Gondolier ... stifling in this cab ...

drive me ... nearest Doge. [_He snores._

CULCH. Brutal selfishness! (_Turns out the light himself._) Now if I can only get off to sleep while that little beast is quiet----

MOSQUITO (_ironically, in his ear_). Ping-a-wing-wing!

_Same Scene; the next morning._

CULCH. (_drawing_ PODBURY'S _curtains_). Here, wake up, Podbury--it's just eight. (PODBURY _sits up, and rubs his eyes_.) I've had a _horrible_ night, my dear fellow! I'm stung to such an extent! But (_hopefully_) I suppose there's nothing to _show_ particularly, eh?

[_Presenting his countenance for inspection._

PODB. Not much of your original features, old fellow! (_He roars with laughter._) You've got a pair of cheeks like a raised map!

CULCH. It--it's going _down_. Nothing to what it _was_, half an hour ago!

PODB. Then I'm jolly glad you didn't call me earlier, that's all!

CULCH. It does feel a little inflamed. I wonder if I could get a little--er--violet powder, or something----?

PODB. (_with a painful want of sympathy_). Violet powder! Buy a blue veil--a good thick one!

CULCH. What sort of impression _do_ you suppose I should get of Venice with a blue veil on?

PODB. Can't say--but a pleasanter one than Venice will get of you _without_ it. You don't mean to face the fair Miss Trotter while you're like _that_, do you?

CULCH. (_with dignity_). Most certainly I _do_. I am much mistaken in Miss Trotter if she will attach the slightest importance to a mere temporary--er--disfigurement. These swellings never do last long. _Do_ they now?

PODB. Oh, not more than a month or so, I dare say, if you can keep from touching them. (_He laughs again._) Excuse me, old chap, but I just got you in a new light. Those mosquitoes have paid you out for that pastille--by Jove, they have!

LANDING-STEPS AND ENTRANCE OF THE HOTEL.

NINE A.M.

CULCH. (_coming out a little self-consciously, and finding_ MR.

TROTTER). Ah, good morning! What are your--er--impressions of Venice, Mr. Trotter?

MR. TROTTER (_thoughtfully_). Well, I'm considerable struck with it, Sir. There's a purrfect freshness and novelty about Vernis that's amusing to a stranger like myself. We've nothing just like this city out West. No, _Sir_. And how are--(_Becomes aware of_ CULCHARD'S _appearance_.) Say, _you_ don't look like your slumbers had been one unbroken ca'm, either! The mosquitoes hev been powerful active makin'

alterations in you. Perseverin' and industrious insects, Sir! Me and my darter have been for a loaf round before breakfast. I dunno if you've seen _her_ yet, she's----

MISS T. (_coming out from behind_). Poppa, they've fixed up our breakf--(_Sees_ CULCHARD, _and turns away, covering her face_). Don't you turn your head in _this_ direction, Mr. Culchard, or I guess I'll expire right away!

CULCH. (_obeying, wounded_). I confess I did _not_ think a few mosquito-bites would have quite such an effect upon you!

MISS T. You're vurry polite, I'm sure! But I possess a hand-mirror; and, if you cann't bear to look me in the face, you'd better keep away!

CULCH. (_takes a hasty glance, and discovers, with a shock, that she is almost as much disfigured as himself_). Oh, I--I wasn't----(_With an effort of politeness._) Er--I hope _you_ haven't been inconvenienced at all?