"Dear me--how very disagreeable (sniff-sniff)--how exceedingly
unpleasant this smoking is?"
The afternoon train was crawling up the Rhone valley, wending its
leisurely way over the flat and low-lying bottom as though to afford its
passengers, mostly foreigners, every opportunity of admiring its native
marsh. In the corner of a second-class smoking-carriage sat the typical
British matron whom her feelings had moved to unburden herself as above.
Beside her, half effaced by her imposing personality, sat her spouse, a
mild country parson. A great number of bundles and a great number of
wraps completed the outfit.
"I must say it is _most_ disagreeable," went on the lady, with renewed
sniffs. "And how ill-mannered these foreigners are, smoking in the
presence of ladies." This with a dagger-glance at the other two
occupants of the carriage, who each, with a knapsack on the rack above
his head and clad in serviceable walking attire, were lounging back on
the comfortable seats, placidly blowing clouds.
"Hush, my dear!" expostulated the parson. "It's a smoking-carriage, you
know. I told you so before we got in at Martigny. Why not go into the
other compartment? It's quite empty."
It was. On the Swiss lines the carriages are generally built on
American principles; you can walk the entire length of them, and indeed
of the whole train. They are, however, divided into two compartments,
the smaller being reserved for the convenience of non-smokers, the other
way about, as with us.
"No, I shall certainly not take the trouble to move," replied the
offended matron. "Smoking-carriage or not, those two men are most
unmannerly. Suppose, Augustus, you go over to them and ask them to put
out their cigars? Remind them that it is not usual in England to smoke
in the presence of ladies."
But the Rev Augustus was not quite such a fool as that.
"Not a bit of use, my dear," he said wearily. "They'd certainly retort
that we are not in England--probably request us to step into the
non-smoking compartment."
Fordham, who at the first remonstrance had rapidly signalled his friend
not to talk and thus betray their nationality, was leaning back enjoying
the situation thoroughly.
"Que diable allait _elle_ faire dans cette galere?" he murmured, rightly
judging the other travellers' command of modern languages to be of the
limited order. Phil for his part was obliged to put his head out of the
window in order to laugh undetected. Meanwhile the aggrieved British
matron in her corner continued to fume and sniff and inveigh against the
abominable manners of those foreigners, and otherwise behave after the
manner of her kind when, by virtue of honouring it with their presence,
they have taken some continental country under their august wing. Then
the crawl of the train settled down to an imperceptible creep as it drew
nearer and nearer to the old-world and picturesque capital of the
Valais.
There was whispering between the pair. Then, in obedience to a conjugal
mandate, the mild parson diffidently approached our two friends.
"Pardong, mossoor. Ais-ker-say See-ong?"
The last word came out with a jerk of relief.
"Sion? I believe it is," replied Fordham, blandly. "We shall have a
quarter of an hour to wait, if not longer."
If ever a man looked a thorough fool, it was the first speaker. The
faultless and polished English of the reply! Here had they--his wife
rather--been abusing these two men in their own tongue and in her
usually loud key for upwards of half an hour. He turned red and began
to stammer.
But the poor man's confusion was by no means shared by his spouse. That
imposing matron came bustling across the carriage as if nothing had
happened.
"Perhaps you can tell us," she said, "which is the best way of getting
to Evolena? There is a diligence, is there not?"
Philip, who had all a young man's aversion for a fussy and domineering
matron, would have returned a very short and evasive reply. The woman
had been abusing them like pickpockets all the way, and now had the
cheek to come and ask for information. But to Fordham her sublime
impudence was diverting in the extreme.
"There is a diligence," he answered, "and I should say you'll still be
in time for it. But I should strongly recommend you to charter a
private conveyance. Coach passengers are apt to beguile the tedium of
the road with tobacco."
This was said so equably and with such an utter absence of resentment
that the lady with all her assertiveness was dumbfoundered. Then,
glaring at the speaker, she flounced away without a word, though, amid
the bustle and flurry attendant upon the collecting of wraps and
bundles, the offenders could catch such jerked-out phrases as
"Abominable rudeness?"
"Most insulting fellow!" and so forth.
"Great Scott! What do you think of that for a zoological specimen,
Phil?" said Fordham, as the train steamed slowly away from the platform
where their late fellow-passengers still stood bustling around a pile of
boxes and bundles. "The harridan deliberately and of her own free will
gets into a tobacco cart--out of sheer cussedness, in fact, for there
stands the non-smoker stark empty--and then has the unparalleled face to
try and boss us out of it. And there are idiots with whom she would
have succeeded too."
"Well, you know, it's beastly awkward when a woman keeps on swearing she
can't stand smoke, even though you know she has no business there. What
the deuce are you to do?"
"Politely ask her to step into the next compartment, whose door stands
yearningly open to receive her. Even the parson had wit enough to see
that."
"Yes, that's so. But, I say, what an infernally slow train this is?"
"This little incident," went on Fordham, "which has served to break the
monotony of our journey, reminds me of a somewhat similar joke which
occurred last year on my way back to England. We fetched Pontarlier
pretty late at night, and of course had to turn out and undergo the
Customs ordeal. Well, I was sharp about the business, and got back into
my carriage and old corner first. It was an ordinary compartment--five
a side--not like this. Almost immediately after in comes a large and
assertive female with an eighteen-year-old son, a weedy, unlicked cub as
ever you saw in your life, and both calmly took the other end seats.
Now I knew that one of these seats belonged to a Frenchman who was going
through, so sat snug in my corner waiting to enjoy the fun. It came in
the shape of the Frenchman. Would madame be so kind, but--the seat was
his? No, madame would not be so kind--not if she knew it. Possibly if
madame had been young and pretty the outraged Gaul might have subsided
more gracefully, for subside he had to--but her aggressiveness about
equalled her unattractiveness, which is saying much. So a wordy war
ensued, in the course of which the door was banged and the deposed
traveller shot with more vehemence than grace half-way across the
compartment, and the train started. He was mad, I can tell you.
Instead of his snug corner for the night, there the poor devil was,
propped up on end, lurching over every time he began to nod.
"Well, we'd finished our feed--we'd got a chicken and some first-rate
Burgundy on board--and were looking forward to a comfortable smoke. In
fact, we'd each got a cigar in our teeth, and the chap who was with me--
whom we'll call Smith--was in the act of lighting up, when--
"`I object to smoke. This isn't a smoking-carriage, and I won't have
it.'
"We looked at the aggressive female, then at each other. Her right was
unassailable. It was not a tobacco cart, but on French lines they are
not generally too particular. Still, in the face of that protest we
were floored.
"Smith was awfully mad. He cursed like a trooper under his breath--
swore he'd be even with the harridan yet--and I believed him.
"Some twenty minutes went by in this way, Smith licking his unlit cigar
and cursing roundly to himself. Presently she beckoned him over. He
had half a mind not to go; however, he went.
"`I don't mind your smoking,' says she--`out of the window.'
"`Oh, thanks,' he says. `It's rather too cold to stand outside on the
footboard. Besides, it's risky.'
"`Well, I mean I don't mind if you have part of the window open. But I
can't stand the place full of smoke and no outlet. And'--she hurries up
to add--`I hope you won't mind if I draw the curtain over the lamp so
that my boy can go to sleep.'
"Smith was on the point of answering that he preferred not to smoke, but
intended to read the night through, and could on no account consent to
the lamp being veiled, when it occurred to him that it was of no use
cutting off his nose to spite his face. He was just dying for a smoke.
So the bargain was struck, and we were soon puffing away like traction
engines.
"Now the Frenchman who had been turned out of his seat was no fool of a
Gaul. Whether suggested by the settling of our little difference or
originating with himself, the idea seemed to strike him that he too
might just as well obtain terms from the enemy to his own advantage.
The unlicked cub aforesaid was slumbering peacefully in his corner, his
long legs straight across the compartment, for we were three on that
side, and there was no room to put them on the seat. The first station
we stop at, up gets the Frenchman, flings open the door, letting in a
sort of young hurricane, and of course stumbling over the sleeper's
legs. Aggressive female looks daggers. But when this had happened
several times--for the stoppages were pretty frequent, and even though
but for a minute the Frenchman took good care to tumble out--she began
to expostulate.
"`It was cruel to disturb her poor boy's slumbers continually like that.
Surely there was no necessity to get out at every station.'
"That Frenchman's grin was something to see. He was _desole_; but
_enfin_! What would madame? He had been turned out of his corner seat,
and could not sleep sitting bolt upright. It was absolutely necessary
for him to get a mouthful of fresh air and stretch his legs at every
opportunity. But the remedy was in madame's hands. Let _monsieur_
change places with him. Monsieur was young, whereas he was--well, not
so young as he used to be. Otherwise he was sorry to say it, but his
restlessness would compel him to take exercise at every station they
stopped at.
"Heavens! that old termagant looked sick. But she was thoroughly
bested. If she refused the enemy would be as good as his word, and her
whelp might make up his mind to stay awake all night. So she caved in,
sulkily enough, and with much bland bowing and smiling the Frenchman got
back his corner seat, or one as good, and the cub snored on his dam's
shoulder. Thus we all regained our rights again, and everybody was
happy."
"Devilish good yarn, Fordham," said Phil. "But you be hanged with your
Smith, old man. Why, that was you--you all over."
"Was it? I said it was Smith. But the point is immaterial, especially
at this time of day. And now, Phil, own up, as you contemplate this
howling, hungry crowd of the alpenstock contingent, that you bless my
foresight which coerced you into posting on every stick and stone you
possess, bar your trusty knapsack. If you don't now, you will when we
get to Visp and tranquilly make our way through a frantic mob all
shouting for its luggage at once. Here we are at Sierre. Sure to be a
wait. I wonder if there's a _buffet_. Hallo! What now?"
For his companion, whose head was half through the window, suddenly
withdrew it with a wild ejaculation, then rushed from the carriage like
a lunatic, vouchsafing no word of explanation as to the phenomenon--or
apology for having stamped Fordham's pet corn as flat as though a steam
roller had passed over it. The latter, scowling, looked cautiously
forth, and then the disturbing element became apparent. There, on the
platform, in a state of more than all his former exuberance, stood
Philip, talking--with all his eyes--to Alma Wyatt, and with all his
might to her uncle and aunt, who had just stepped out of the train to
join her. And at the sight Fordham dropped back into his seat with a
saturnine guffaw.
But the next words uttered by his volatile friend caused him to sit up
and attend.
"This is a most unexpected pleasure, General," Philip was saying. "Why
I thought you were a fixture at the Grindelwald for the rest of your
time."
"Couldn't stand it. Far too much bustle and noise. No. Some one told
us of a place called Zinal, and we are going there now."
"What an extraordinary coincidence!" cried Phil, delightedly. "The fact
is we are bound for that very place."
"The devil we are!" growled Fordham to himself at this astounding piece
of intelligence. "I have hitherto been under the impression, friend
Phil, that we were bound for Visp--_en route_ for Zermatt."
"But--where's Mr Fordham? Is he with you?" went on Mrs Wyatt.
"Rather. He's--er--just kicking together our traps. I'll go and see
after him. Fordham, old chap, come along," he cried, bursting into the
carriage again.
"Eh?" was the provokingly cool reply.
"Don't you see?" went on Phil, hurriedly. "Now be a good old chap, and
tumble to my scheme. Let's go to Zinal instead."
"I don't care. How about our traps though? They're posted to t'other
place."
"Hang that. We can send for 'em. And er--I say, Fordham, don't let on
we weren't going there all along. I sort of gave them to understand we
were. You know?"
"I do. I overheard you imperil your immortal soul just now, Philip
Orlebar. And you want me to abet you in the utter loss thereof? It is
a scandalous proposal, but--Here, hurry up if you're going to get out.
The train is beginning to move on again."
"Delighted to meet you again, Fordham," said the old General, shaking
the latter heartily by the hand. "What are your plans? They tell us we
ought to sleep here, in Sierre, to-night and go on early in the
morning."
"That's what we are going to do."
"A good idea. We might all go on together. They tell me there's a
capital hotel here. Which is it," he went on, glancing at the caps of
two rival commissionaires.
"The `Belle Vue.' But it's only a step. Hardly worth while getting
into the omnibus."