PETKOFF.
(testily). And has Nicola taken to drinking? He used to be careful enough. First he shews Captain Bluntschli out here when he knew quite well I was in the—hum!—library; and then he goes downstairs and breaks Raina’s chocolate soldier. He must—(At this moment Nicola appears at the top of the steps R., with a carpet bag. He descends; places it respectfully before Bluntschli; and waits for further orders. General amazement. Nicola, unconscious of the effect he is producing, looks perfectly satisfied with himself. When Petkoff recovers his power of speech, he breaks out at him with) Are you mad, Nicola?
NICOLA.
(taken aback). Sir?
PETKOFF.
What have you brought that for?
NICOLA.
My lady’s orders, sir. Louka told me that—
CATHERINE.
(interrupting him). My orders! Why should I order you to bring Captain Bluntschli’s luggage out here? What are you thinking of, Nicola?
NICOLA.
(after a moment’s bewilderment, picking up the bag as he addresses Bluntschli with the very perfection of servile discretion). I beg your pardon, sir, I am sure. (To Catherine.) My fault, madam! I hope you’ll overlook it! (He bows, and is going to the steps with the bag, when Petkoff addresses him angrily.)
PETKOFF.
You’d better go and slam that bag, too, down on Miss Raina’s ice pudding! (This is too much for Nicola. The bag drops from his hands on Petkoff’s corns, eliciting a roar of anguish from him.) Begone, you butter-fingered donkey.
NICOLA.
(snatching up the bag, and escaping into the house). Yes, sir.
CATHERINE.
Oh, never mind, Paul, don’t be angry!
PETKOFF.
(muttering). Scoundrel. He’s got out of hand while I was away. I’ll teach him. (Recollecting his guest.) Oh, well, never mind. Come, Bluntschli, lets have no more nonsense about you having to go away. You know very well you’re not going back to Switzerland yet. Until you do go back you’ll stay with us.