The Travelling Companions: A Story in Scenes. Anstey F.

old fellow, doosid annoying thing, but I can't find my purse – must have lost it somewhere!

      Culch. (stoically). I can't say I'm surprised to hear it. It's awkward, certainly. I suppose I shall have to lend you enough to go home with – it's all I can do; but I'll do that with – er – pleasure.

      Podb. (staring). Go home? Why, I can wire to the governor for more, easily enough. We shall have to stay here till it comes, that's all.

      Culch. And give up Nuremberg? Thank you!

      Podb. I rather like this place, you know – sort of rest. And we could always nip over to Ems, or Homburg, if it got too slow, eh?

      Culch. If I nip over anywhere, I shall nip to Nuremberg. We may just as well understand one another, Podbury. If I'm to provide money for both of us, it's only reasonable that you should be content to go where I choose. I cannot, and will not, stand these perpetual interferences with our original plan; it's sheer restlessness. Come with me to Nuremberg, and I shall be very happy to be your banker. Otherwise, you must stay here alone. [He compresses his lips and crosses his legs.

      Podb. Oh, that's it, is it? But look here, why not tit up whether we go on or stay?

      Culch. Why should I "tit up," as you call it, when I've already made up my mind to go? When I once decide on anything, it's final.

      The Bride (to Bridegroom, without enthusiasm). Would you like me to roll you a cigarette?

      Bridegroom (with the frankness of an open nature). Not if I know it. I can do it better myself.

      Bride (coldly). I see.

      [Another silence, at the end of which she rises and walks slowly away, pausing at the gate to see whether he intends to follow. As he does not appear to have remarked her absence, she walks on.

      Podb. (to Culch., in an undertone). I say, those two don't seem to hit it off exactly, eh? Seem sorry they came! You'll be glad to hear, old fellow, that we needn't separate after all. Just found my purse in my trouser-pocket!

      Culch. Better luck than you deserve. Didn't I tell you you should have a special pocket for your money and coupons? Like this – see. (He opens his coat) With a buttoned flap, it stands to reason they must be safe!

      Podb. So long as you keep it buttoned, old chap, – which you don't seem to do!

      Culch. (annoyed). Pshaw! The button is a trifle too – (feels pocket, and turns pale). Good Heavens, it – it's gone!

      Podb. The button?

      Culch. (patting himself all over with shaking hands). Everything! – money, coupons, circular notes! They – they must have fallen out going up that infernal Niederwald. (Angrily.) You would insist on going!

      Podb. Phew! The whole bag of tricks gone! You're lucky if you get them again. Any number of tramps and beggars all the way up. Shouldn't have taken off your coat – very careless of you! (He grins.)

      Culch. It was so hot. I must go and inform the Police here – I may recover it yet. Anyway, we – we must push on to Nuremberg, and I'll telegraph home for money to be sent here. You can let me have enough to get on with?

      Podb. With all the pleasure in life, dear boy – on your own conditions, you know. I mean, if I pay the piper, I call the tune. Now, I don't cotton to Nuremberg somehow; I'd rather go straight on to Constance; we could get some rowing there.

      Culch. (pettishly). Rowing be – (recollecting his helplessness). No; but just consider, my dear Podbury. I assure you you'll find Nuremberg a most delightful old place. You must see how bent I am on going there!

      Podb. Oh, yes, I see that. But then I'm not, don't you know – so there we are!

      Culch. (desperately). Well, I'll – I'll meet you half-way. I've no objection to – er – titting up with you – Nuremberg or Constance. Come?

      Podb. You weren't so anxious to tit up just now – but never mind. (Producing a mark.) Now then, Emperor – Constance. Eagle – Nuremberg. Is it sudden death, or best out of three? [He tosses.

      Culch. Sud – (The coin falls with the Emperor uppermost.) Best out of three. [He takes coin from Podbury and tosses.

      Podb. Eagle! we're even so far. (He receives coin.) This settles it. [He tosses.

      Culch. (triumphantly). Eagle again! Now mind, Podbury, no going back after this. It must be Nuremberg now.

      Podb. All right! And now allow me to have the pleasure of restoring your pocket-book and note-case. They did fall out on the Niederwald, and it was a good job for you I was behind and saw them drop. You must really be careful, dear boy. Ain't you going to say "ta" for them?

      Culch. (relieved). I'm – er – tremendously obliged. I really can't say how. – (Recollecting himself.) But you need not have taken advantage of it to try to do me out of going to Nuremberg – it was a shabby trick!

      Podb. Oh, it was only to get a rise out of you. I never meant to keep you to it, of course. And I say, weren't you sold, though? Didn't I lead up to it beautifully? (He chuckles.) Score to me, eh!

      Culch. (with amiable sententiousness). Ah, well, I don't grudge you your little joke if it amuses you. Those laugh best who laugh last. And it's settled now that we're going to Nuremberg.

      [Miss Trotter and her father have come out from the Speisesaal doors, and overhear the last speech.

      Mr. Trotter (to Culchard). Your friend been gettin' off a joke on you, Sir?

      Culch. Only in his own estimation, Mr. Trotter. I have nailed him down to going to Nuremberg, which, for many reasons, I was extremely anxious to visit. (Carelessly.) Are we likely to be there when you are?

      Miss T. I guess not. We've just got our mail, and my cousin, Charley Van Boodeler, writes he's having a real lovely time in the Engadine – says it's the most elegant locality he's struck yet, and just as full of Amurrcans as it can hold; so we're going to start out there right away. I don't believe we shall have time for Nuremberg this trip. Father, if we're going to see about checking the baggage through, we'd better go down to the depôt right now. [They pass on.

      Culch. (with a very blank face and a feeble whistle). Few-fitty-fitty-fitty-fa-di-fee-fee-foo; few – After all, Podbury, I don't know that I care so much about Nuremberg. They – they say it's a good deal changed from what it was.

      Podb. So are you, old chap, if it comes to that. Tiddledy-iddlety-ido-lumpty-doodle-oo! Is it to be Constance after all, then?

      Culch. (reddening). Er – I rather thought of the Engadine – more bracing, eh? – few-feedle-eedle-oodle —

      Podb. You artful old whistling oyster, I see what you're up to! But it's no go; she don't want either of us Engadining about after her. It's Charley Van Stickinthemud's turn now! We've got to go to Nuremberg. You can't get out of it, after gassing so much about the place. When you've once decided, you know, it's final!

      Culch. (with dignity). I am not aware that I wanted to get out of it. I merely proposed in your – (Podbury suddenly explodes.) What are you cackling at now?

      Podb. (wiping his eyes). It's the last laugh, old man, – and it's the best!

      [Culchard walks away rapidly, leaving Podbury in solitary enjoyment of the joke. Podbury's mirth immediately subsides into gravity, and he kicks several unoffending chairs with quite uncalled-for brutality.

      CHAPTER VII.

      A Dissolution of Partnership

      Scene —A Second-Class Compartment on the line between Wurzburg and Nuremberg. Podbury has been dull and depressed all day, not having recovered from the parting with Miss Trotter. Culchard, on the contrary, is almost ostentatiously cheerful. Podbury is intensely