The Travelling Companions Part 24

MR. T. They don't appear to me to get the twist on it they did at Bellagio!

MISS T. You mean that night Charley took us out on the Lake? Poor Charley! he'd just love to be here--he's ever so much artistic feeling!

MR. T. Well, I don't see why he couldn't have come along if he'd wanted.

MISS T. (_with a glance at her neighbour_). I presume he'd reasons enough. He's a vurry cautious man. Likely he was afraid he'd get bitten.

MISS P. (_after a swift scrutiny of_ MISS T.'S _features_). Oh, Bob, remind me to get some more of that mosquito stuff. I _should_ so hate to be bitten--such a _dreadful_ disfigurement!

MISS T. (_to the Moon_). I declare if I don't believe I can feel some creature trying to sting me now!

MISS P. Some people are hardly recognisable, Bob, and they say the marks never _quite_ disappear!

MISS T. Poppa, don't you wonder what Charley's doing just now? I'd like to know if he's found any one yet to feel an interest in the great Amurrcan Novel. It's curious how interested people do get in that novel, considering it's none of it written, and never will be. I guess sometimes he makes them believe he means something by it. They don't understand it's only Charley's way!

MISS P. The crush isn't quite so bad now. Mr. Podbury, if you will kindly ask your friend not to hold on to our gondola, we should probably be better able to turn. (CULCHARD, _who had fondly imagined himself undetected, takes his hand away as if it were scorched_.) Now we can get away. (_To_ Gondolier.) Voltiamo, se vi piace, prestissimo!

[_The gondola turns and departs._

MISS T. Well, I do just enjoy making that Prendergast girl perfectly wild, and that's a fact. (_Reflectively._) And it's queer, but I like her ever so much all the time. Don't _you_ think that's too fonny of me, Mr. Culchard, now? [CULCHARD _feigns a poetic abstraction_.

CHAPTER XXII.

+One Man's Meat; another Man's Poison.+

SCENE--_The Campo S. S. Giovanni e Paulo. Afternoon._ CULCHARD _is leaning against the pedestal of the Colleoni Statue_.

PODBURY. (_who has just come out of S. Giovanni, recognising_ CULCHARD).

Hullo! _alone_, eh? Thought you were with Miss Trotter?

CULCHARD. So I am. That is, she is going over a metal-worker's show-room close by, and I--er--preferred the open air. But didn't you say you were going out with the--er--Prendergasts again?

PODB. So I am. She's in the Church with Bob, so I said I'd come out and keep an eye on the gondola. Nothing much to see in _there_, you know!

CULCH. (_with a weary irony_). Only the mausoleums of the Doges--Ruskin's "Street of the Tombs"--and a few trifles of that sort!

PODB. That's all. And I'm feeling a bit done, you know. Been doing the Correr Museum all the morning, and not lunched yet! So Miss Trotter's looking at ornamental metal-work? Rather fun that, eh?

CULCH. For those who enjoy it. She has only been in there an hour, so she is not likely to come back just yet. What do you say to coming into S. S. Giovanni e Paulo again, with _me_? Those tombs form a really remarkable ill.u.s.tration, as Ruskin points out, of the gradual decay of----

MISS TROTTER (_suddenly flutters up, followed by an attendant carrying a studded halberd, an antique gondola-hook, and two copper water-buckets--all of which are consigned to the disgusted_ CULCHARD).

Just hold these a spell till I come back. Thanks ever so much.... Well, Mr. Podbury! Aren't you going to admire my purchases? They're real antique--or if they aren't, they'll wear all the better.... There, I believe I'll just have to run back a minute--don't you put those things in the gondola yet, Mr. Culchard, or they'll get stolen. [_She flutters off._

CULCH. (_helplessly, as he holds the halberd, &c._). I suppose I shall have to stay _here_ now. You're not going?

PODB. (_consulting his watch_). Must. Promised old Bob I'd relieve guard in ten minutes. Ta-ta.

[_He goes_; _presently_ BOB PRENDERGAST _lounges out of the church_.

CULCH. If I could only make a friend of _him_! (_To_ BOB.) Ah, Prendergast! lovely afternoon, isn't it? Delicious breeze!

BOB (_shortly_). Can't say. Not had much of it, at present.

CULCH. You find these old churches rather oppressive, I dare say.

Er--will you have a cigarette? [_Tenders case._

BOB. Thanks; got a pipe. (_He lights it._) Where's Miss Trotter?

CULCH. She will be here presently. By the way, my dear Prendergast, this--er--misunderstanding between your sister and her is very unfortunate.

BOB. I know that well enough. It's none of _my_ doing! And _you_'ve no reason to complain, at all events!

CULCH. Quite so. Only, you see, we _used_ to be good friends at Constance, and--er--until recently----

BOB. Used we? Of course, if you say so, it's all right. But what are you driving at exactly?

CULCH. All I am driving at is this: Couldn't we two--er--agree to effect a reconciliation between the two ladies? So much pleasanter for--er--all parties!

BOB. I dare say. But how are you going to set about it? _I_ can't begin.

CULCH. Couldn't you induce your sister to lay aside her--er--prejudice against me? Then _I_ could easily----

BOB. Very likely--but I _couldn't_. I never interfere in my sister's affairs, and, to tell you the honest truth, I don't feel particularly inclined to make a beginning on your account. [_Strolls away._

CULCH. (_to himself_). What a surly boor it is! But I don't care--I'll do him a good turn, in spite of himself! (MISS T. _returns_.) Do you know, I've just been having a chat with poor young Prendergast. He seems quite cut up at being forced to side with his sister. I undertook to--er--intercede for him. Now is it quite fair, or like your--er--usual good-nature, to visit his sister's offences--whatever they are--on him?

I--I only put it to you.

MISS T. Well, to think now! I guess you're about the most unselfish saint on two legs! Now some folks would have felt jealous.

CULCH. Possibly--but I cannot accuse myself of such a failing as that.

MISS T. I'd just like to hear you accuse yourself of _any_ failing! I don't see however you manage to act so magnanimous and live. I told you I wanted to study your character, and I believe it isn't going to take me vurry much longer to make up my mind about _you_. You _don't_ suppose I'll have any time for Mr. Prendergast after getting such a glimpse into your nature? There, help me into the gondola, and don't talk any more about it. Tell him to go to Salviate's right away.

CULCH. (_dejectedly to himself_). I've bungled it! I might have _known_ I should only make matters worse!

_On the Piazzetta; it is moonlight, the Campanile and dome of San Giorgio Maggiore are silhouetted sharp and black against the steel-blue sky across a sea of silver ripples._ PODBURY _and_ CULCHARD _are pacing slowly arm-in-arm between the two columns_.

CULCH. And so you went on to S. Giovanni in Bragora, eh? then over the a.r.s.enal, and rowed across the lagoons to see the Armenian convent? A delightful day, my dear Podbury! I hope you--er--appreciate the inestimable privileges of--of seeing Venice so thoroughly?

PODB. Oh, of course it's very jolly. Find I get a trifle mixed afterwards, though. And, between ourselves, I wouldn't mind--now and then, you know--just dawdling about among the shops and people, as you and the Trotters do!

CULCH. That has its charm, no doubt. But don't you find Miss Prendergast a mine of information on Italian Art and History?

PODB. Don't I just--rather too _deep_ for me, y' know! I say, isn't Miss Trotter immense sport in the shops and that?