A Voyage Of Consolation - Sara Jeannette Duncan (namjoon book recommendations .txt) 📗

The Darkness At My Side I Heard A Scuffling Among Waistcoat

Pockets,  And A Groan.

 

"No Matches?" I Asked In despair.

 

"Left 'Em In My Light Overcoat Pockets,  Mamie. I'M A Bigger Ass

Than--Than Mafferton."

 

"You Are," I Said With Decision. "No Englishman Goes Anywhere Without

His Light Overcoat. What Have You Done With Yours?"

 

"Left It In The Carriage," Replied Dick Humbly.

 

"That Shows," Said I Bitterly,  "How Little You Have Learned In england.

Propriety In connection With You Is Evidently Like Water And A Duck'S

Back. An Intelligent Person Would Have Acquired The Light Overcoat

Principle In Three Days,  And Never Have Gone Out Without It Afterward."

 

"Oh,  Go On!" Replied Dick Fiercely. "Go On. I Don'T Mind. I'M Not So

Stuck On Myself As I Was. But If We'Ve Got To Die Together You Might As

Well Forgive Me. You'Ll Have To Do It At The Last Moment,  You Know."

 

"I Suppose You Have Begun To Review Your Past Life," I Said Grimly,  "And

That'S Why You Are Using So Much American Slang."

 

Then,  As Dicky Was Again Holding My Hands,  I Maintained A Dignified

Silence. You Cannot Possibly Quarrel With A Person Who Is Holding Your

Hand,  No Matter How You Feel.

 

"There'S Only One Thing That Consoles Me In connection With Those

Matches," Dicky Mentioned After A Time. "They Were French Ones."

 

"I Don'T Know What That Has To Do With It," I Said.

 

"That'S Because You Don'T Smoke," Dicky Replied. And I Had Not The Heart

To Pursue The Inquiry. Time Went On,  Black And Silent,  As It Had Been

Doing Down There For Sixteen Centuries. We Stopped Arguing About Why

They Didn'T Come To Look For Us,  Each Privately Wondering If It Was

Possible That We Had Strayed Too Ingeniously Ever To Be Found. We Talked

Of Many Things To Try To Keep Up Our Spirits,  The Conviction Of The _St.

James'S Gazette_ That American Young Ladies Live Largely Upon

Chewing-Gum,  And Other Topics Far Removed From Our Surroundings,  But The

Effort Was Not Altogether Successful. Dicky Had Just Permitted Himself

To Make A Reference To His Mother In chicago When A Sound Behind Us Made

Us Both Start Violently,  And Then Cheered Us Immensely--A Snore From

Mrs. Portheris Within The Tomb. It Was Not,  Happily,  A Single Accidental

Snore,  But The Forerunner Of A Regular Series,  And We Hung Upon Them As

They Issued,  Comforted And Supported. We Were Vaguely Aware That We

Could Have No Better Defence Against Disembodied Early Christians,  When,

In The Course Of An Hour,  Mrs. Portheris Sat Up Suddenly Among The Bones

Of The Original Occupant And Asked What Time It Was. We Felt A Pang Of

Regret At Losing It.

 

After The First Moment Or Two That Lady Realized The Situation

Completely. "I Suppose," She Said,  "We Have Been Down Here About Two

Days. I Am Quite Faint With Hunger. I Have Often Read That Candles,

Under These Terrible Circumstances,  Are Sustaining. What A Good Thing We

Have Got The Candles."

 

Dicky Squeezed My Hand Nervously,  But Our Chaperone Had Slept Off The

Eucalyptus And Had No Longer One Cannibal Thought.

 

"I Don'T Think It Is Time For Candles Yet," He Said Reassuringly. "You

Have Been Asleep,  You Know,  Mrs. Portheris."

 

"If You Have Eaten Them Already,  I Consider That You Have Taken An

Unfair Advantage,  A Very Unfair Advantage."

 

"Here Is Mine!" Exclaimed Dicky Nobly. "I Hope I Can Deny Myself,  Mrs.

Portheris,  To That Extent."

 

"And Mine," I Echoed; "But Really,  Mrs. Portheris----"

 

Another Pressure Of Dicky'S Hand Reminded Me--I Am Ashamed To Confess

It--That If Mrs. Portheris Was Bent Upon The Unnecessary Consumption Of

Roman Tallow There Was Nothing In Her Past Treatment Of Either Of Us To

Induce Us To Prevent Her. The Dictates Of Humanity,  I Know,  Should Have

Influenced Us Otherwise,  In connection With Tallow,  But They Seemed For

The Moment To Have Faded As Completely Out Of Our Bosoms As They Did Out

Of The Early Roman Persecutors! It Seemed To Me That All My Country'S

Wrongs At The Hands Of Mrs. Portheris Rose Up And Clamoured To Be

Avenged,  And Dicky Told Me Afterward That He Felt Just The Same Way.

 

"Then I Have Done You An Injustice," She Continued; "I Apologize,  I Am

Sure,  And I Find That I Have My Own Candle,  Thank You. It Is Adhering To

The Side Of My Bonnet."

 

We Were Perfectly Silent.

 

"Perhaps I Ought To Try And Wait A Little Longer," Mrs. Portheris

Hesitated,  "But I Feel Such A Sinking,  And I Assure You I Have Fallen

Away. My Garments Are Quite Loose."

 

"Of Course It Depends," Said Dicky Scientifically,  "Upon The Amount Of

Carbon The System Has In Reserve. Personally I Think I Can Hold Out A

Little Longer. I Had An Excellent Breakfast This M----,  The Day We Came

Here. But If I Felt A Sinking----"

 

"_Waugh!_" Said Mrs. Portheris.

 

"Have You--Have You _Begun_?" I Exclaimed In agony,  While Dicky Shook In

Silence.

 

"I Have," Replied Mrs. Portheris Hurriedly; "Where--Where Is The

Eucalyptus? Ah! I Have It!"

 

"_Ben-En-Euh!_ It Is Nutritive,  I Am Sure,  But It Requires A Cordial."

 

The Darkness For Some Reason Seemed A Little Less Black And The Silence

Less Oppressive.

 

"I Have Only Eaten About Three Inches," Remarked Mrs. Portheris

Presently. Dicky And I Were Incapable Of Conversation--"But I--But I

Cannot Go On At Present. It Is Really Not Nice."

 

"An Overdone Flavour,  Hasn'T It?" Asked Dicky,  Between Gasps.

 

"Very Much So! Horribly! But The Eucalyptus Will,  I Hope,  Enable Me To

Extract Some Benefit From It. I Think I'Ll Lie Down Again." And We Heard

The Sound Of A Cork Restored To Its Bottle As Mrs. Portheris Returned To

The Tomb. It Was Quite Half An Hour Before She Woke Up,  Declaring That A

Whole Night Had Passed And That She Was More Famished Than Ever. "But,"

She Added,  "I Feel It Impossible To Go On With The Candle. There Is

Something About The Wick----"

 

"I Know," Said Dicky Sympathetically,  "Unless You Are Born In Greenland,

You Cannot Really Enjoy Them. There Is An Alternative,  Mrs. Portheris,

But I Didn'T Like To Mention It----"

 

"I Know," She Replied,  "Shoe Leather. I Have Read Of That,  Too,  And I

Think It Would Be An Improvement. Have You Got A Pocket-Knife,  Mr. Dod?"

 

Dicky Produced It Without A Pang And We Heard The Rapid Sound Of An

Unbuttoning Shoe. "I Had These Made To Order At Two Guineas,  In The

Burlington Arcade," Said Mrs. Portheris Regretfully.

 

"Then," Said Dicky Gravely,  Groping To Hand Her The Knife,  "They Will Be

Of Good Kid,  And Probably Tender."

 

"I Hope So,  Indeed," Said Mrs. Portheris; "We Must All Have Some. Will

You--Will You _Carve_,  Mr. Dod?"

 

I Remembered With A Pang How Punctilious They Were In england About

Asking Gentlemen To Perform This Duty,  And I Received One More

Impression Of The Permanence Of British Ideas Of Propriety. But Dicky

Declined; Said He Couldn'T Undertake It--For A Party,  And That Mrs.

Portheris Must Please Help Herself And Never Mind Him,  He Would Take

Anything There Was,  A Little Later,  With Great Hospitality. However,  She

Insisted,  And My Portion,  I Know,  Was A Generous One,  A Slice Off The

Ankle. Mrs. Portheris Begged Us To Begin; She Said It Was So Cheerless

Eating By One'S Self,  And Made Her Feel Quite Greedy.

 

"Really," She Said,  "It Is Much Better Than Candle--A Little Difficult

To Masticate Perhaps,  But,  If I Do Say It Myself,  Quite A Tolerable

Flavour. If I Only Hadn'T Used That Abominable French Polish This

Morning. What Do _You_ Think,  Mr. Dod?"

 

"I Think," Said Dicky,  Jumping Suddenly To His Feet,  While My Heart

Stood Still With Anticipation,  "That If There'S Enough Of That Shoe

Left,  You Had Better Put It On Again,  For I Hear People Calling Us," And

Then,  Making A Trumpet With His Hands,  Dicky Shouted Till All The

Roman Skeletons Sufficiently Intact Turned To Listen. But This Time The

Answer Came Back From Their Descendants,  Running With A Flash Of

Lanterns.

 

 

I Will Skip The Scene Of Our Reunion,  Because I Am Not Good At Matters

Which Are Moving,  And We Were All Excessively Moved. It Is Necessary To

Explain,  However,  That Brother Demetrius,  When He Went Above Ground,

Felt His Lumbago So Acutely That He Retired To Bed,  And Was Therefore

Not Visible When The Others Came Up. As We Had Planned Beforehand,  The

Senator Decided To Go On To The Jewish Catacombs,  Taking It For Granted

That We Would Follow,  While Brother Eusebius,  When He Found Demetrius In

Bed,  Also Took It For Granted That We Had Gone On Ahead. He Did Not

Inquire,  He Said,  Because The Virtue Of Taciturnity Being Denied To Them

In The Exercise Of Their Business,  They Always Diligently Cultivated It

In Private. My Own Conviction Was That They Were Not On Speaking Terms.

Our Friends And Relatives,  After Looking At The Jewish Catacombs,  Had

Driven Back To The Hotel,  And Only Began To Feel Anxious At Tea Time,  As

They Knew The English Refreshment-Rooms Were Closed For The Season,  Like

Everything Else,  And Isabel Asserted With Tears That If Her Mother Was

Above Ground She Would Not Miss Her Tea. So They All Drove Back To The

Catacombs,  And Effected Our Rescue After We Had Been Immured For Exactly

Seven Hours. I Wish To Add,  To The Credit Of Mr. Richard Dod,  That He

Has Never Yet Breathed A Syllable To Anybody About The Manner In Which

Mrs. Portheris Sustained Nature During Our Imprisonment,  Although He

Must Often Have Been Strongly Tempted To Do So. And Neither Have

I--Until Now.

 

Chapter 15

"The Thing That Struck Me On Our Drive To The Hotel," Remarked Momma,

"Was That Naples Was Almost Entirely Inhabited By The Lower Classes."

 

"That Is Very Noticeable Indeed," Concurred Mr. Mafferton,  Who Was Also

There For The First Time. "The People Of The Place Are No Doubt In The

Country At This Time Of The Year,  But One Would Naturally Expect To See

More Respectable Persons About."

 

"Now You'Ll Excuse Me,  Mafferton," Said The Senator,  "But That'S Just

One Of Those Places Where I Lose The Trail Of The English Language As

Used By The Original Inventors. Where Do You Draw The Line Of

Distinction Between People And Persons?"

 

"It'S A Mere Briticism,  Poppa," I Observed. Mr. Mafferton Loathed Being

Obliged To Defend His Native Tongue At Any Point. That Very Morning The

_Modus Vivendi_ Between Us,  That I Had Done So Much For Dicky'S Sake To

Establish,  Had Been Imperilled By My Foolish Determination To Know

Why All Englishmen Pronounced "White" "Wite."

 

"I Daresay," Said Poppa Gloomily,  "But I Am Not On To It And I Don'T

Suppose I Ever Shall Be. What Struck Me On The Ride Up Through The City

Was The Perambulating Bath. Going Round On Wheels To Be Hired Out,  Just

The Ordinary Tin Tub Of Commerce. The Fellows Were Shouting

Something--'Who'Ll Buy A Wash!' I Suppose. But That'S The Disadvantage

Of A Foreign Language; It Leaves So Much To The Imagination."

 

"The Goats Were Nice," I Said,  "So Promiscuous. I Saw One Of Them

Looking Out Of A Window."

 

"And The Dear Little Horses With Bells Round Their Necks," Momma Added,

"And The Tall Yellow Houses With The Stucco Dropping Off,  And Especially

The Fruit Shops And The Flower Stalls That Make Pictures Down Every

Narrow Street. Such _Masses_ Of Colour!"

 

"We Might Have Hit On A Worse Hotel," Observed Mr. Mafferton. "Very

Tolerable Soup,  To-Night."

 

"I Can'T Say I Noticed The Soup," Said The Senator. "Fact Is,  Soup To Me

Is Just--Soup. I Presume There Are Different Kinds,  But Beyond Knowing

Most Of Them From Gruel I Don'T Pretend To Be A Connoisseur."

 

"What Nonsense,  Alexander!" Said Momma Sternly.

 

"Some Are Saltier Than Others,  Augusta,  I Admit. But What I Was Going On

To Say Was That For Clear Monotony The Dinner Programmes Ever Since

Paris Have Beaten The Record. Bramley Told Me How It Would Be. Consommy,

He Said--That'S Soup--Consommy,  The Whole Enduring Time. Fish _Frite_ Or

Fried,  Roast Beef _A L'Italienne_ Or Mixed Up With Vegetables.

Beans--Well,  Just Beans,  And If You Don'T Like 'Em You Can Leave 'Em,

But That Fourth Course Is Never Anything But Beans. After That You Get

A Chicken Cut Up With