On my
right hand there were lines of fishing stakes resembling a
mysterious system of half-submerged
bamboo fences,
incomprehensible in its
division of the
domain of
tropical fishes, and crazy of
aspect as if
abandoned forever by some
nomad tribe of fishermen now gone to the other end of the ocean; for there was no sign of
human habitation as far as the eye could reach. To the left a group of
barren islets, suggesting ruins of stone walls, towers, and blockhouses, had its foundations set in a blue sea that itself looked
solid, so still and
stable did it lie below my feet; even the
track of light from the westering sun shone smoothly, without that
animated glitter which tells of an
imperceptible ripple. And when I turned my head to take a parting
glance at the tug which had just left us anchored outside the
bar, I saw the
straight line of the flat
shore joined to the
stable sea,
edge to
edge, with a
perfect and unmarked closeness, in one leveled floor half brown, half blue under the
enormous dome of the sky. Corresponding in their insignificance to the islets of the sea, two small clumps of trees, one on each side of the only
fault in the
impeccable joint,
marked the mouth of the river Meinam we had just left on the first
preparatory stage of our homeward
journey; and, far back on the inland
level, a larger and loftier
mass, the
grove surrounding the great Paknam
pagoda, was the only thing on which the eye could rest from the
vain task of exploring the
monotonous sweep of the
horizon. Here and there gleams as of a few scattered pieces of silver
marked the windings of the great river; and on the nearest of them, just within the
bar, the tug steaming
right into the land became
lost to my
sight,
hull and
funnel and masts, as though the
impassive earth had swallowed her up without an
effort, without a
tremor. My eye followed the light cloud of her smoke, now here, now there, above the
plain,
according to the
devious curves of the
stream, but always fainter and farther away,
till I
lost it at last behind the miter-shaped hill of the great
pagoda. And then I was left alone with my ship, anchored at the head of the Gulf of Siam.
She floated at the starting point of a long
journey, very still in an
immense stillness, the shadows of her spars flung far to the eastward by the
setting sun. At that
moment I was alone on her decks. There was not a
sound in her-and around us nothing moved, nothing lived, not a
canoe on the water, not a bird in the air, not a cloud in the sky. In this breathless
pause at the
threshold of a long
passage we seemed to be measuring our
fitness for a long and
arduous enterprise, the appointed
task of both our existences to be carried out, far from all
human eyes, with only sky and sea for spectators and for judges.
There must have been some
glare in the air to
interfere with one's
sight, because it was only just before the sun left us that my roaming eyes made out beyond the highest ridges of the
principal islet of the group something which did away with the
solemnity of
perfect solitude. The
tide of darkness flowed on swiftly; and with
tropical suddenness a
swarm of stars came out above the
shadowy earth, while I lingered yet, my hand resting lightly on my ship's
rail as if on the shoulder of a trusted friend. But, with all that
multitude of
celestial bodies staring down at one, the
comfort of quiet
communion with her was gone for good. And there were also
disturbing sounds by this time-voices, footsteps
forward; the
steward flitted along the main-deck, a busily ministering
spirit; a hand bell tinkled urgently under the poop deck....
I found my two officers waiting for me near the supper
table, in the lighted cuddy. We sat down at once, and as I helped the chief mate, I said:
"Are you
aware that there is a ship anchored inside the islands? I saw her mastheads above the
ridge as the sun went down."
He raised
sharply his
simple face, overcharged by a terrible growth of
whisker, and emitted his usual ejaculations: "Bless my
soul, sir! You don't say so!"
My second mate was a round-cheeked, silent young man,
grave beyond his years, I
thought; but as our eyes happened to meet I detected a
slight quiver on his lips. I looked down at once. It was not my part to
encourage sneering on
board my ship. It must be said, too, that I knew very little of my officers. In
consequence of
certain events of no
particular significance, except to myself, I had been appointed to the
command only a
fortnight before. Neither did I know much of the hands
forward. All these people had been together for eighteen months or so, and my position was that of the only
stranger on
board. I
mention this because it has some
bearing on what is to follow. But what I felt most was my being a
stranger to the ship; and if all the truth must be told, I was somewhat of a
stranger to myself. The youngest man on
board (barring the second mate), and untried as yet by a position of the fullest
responsibility, I was willing to take the
adequacy of the others for granted. They had simply to be
equal to their tasks; but I wondered how far I should turn out
faithful to that
ideal conception of one's own
personality every man sets up for himself secretly.
Meantime the chief mate, with an almost
visible effect of
collaboration on the part of his round eyes and
frightful whiskers, was trying to
evolve a
theory of the anchored ship. His
dominant trait was to take all things into
earnest consideration. He was of a
painstaking turn of
mind. As he used to say, he "liked to
account to himself" for
practically everything that came in his way, down to a
miserable scorpion he had found in his cabin a week before. The why and the
wherefore of that scorpion-how it got on
board and came to
select his room rather than the
pantry (which was a dark place and more what a scorpion would be
partial to), and how on
earth it managed to
drown itself in the inkwell of his writing desk-had exercised him infinitely. The ship within the islands was much more easily accounted for; and just as we were about to rise from
table he made his
pronouncement. She was, he doubted not, a ship from home lately arrived. Probably she drew too much water to
cross the
bar except at the top of spring tides. Therefore she went into that
natural harbor to wait for a few days in
preference to
remaining in an open roadstead.
"That's so," confirmed the second mate,
suddenly, in his slightly
hoarse voice. "She draws over twenty feet. She's the Liverpool ship Sephora with a
cargo of coal. Hundred and twenty-three days from Cardiff."
We looked at him in
surprise.
"The tugboat skipper told me when he came on
board for your letters, sir," explained the young man. "He expects to take her up the river the day after tomorrow."
After
thus overwhelming us with the
extent of his
information he slipped out of the cabin. The mate observed
regretfully that he "could not
account for that young fellow's whims." What prevented him telling us all about it at once, he wanted to know.
I detained him as he was making a move. For the last two days the
crew had had
plenty of hard work, and the night before they had very little sleep. I felt painfully that I-a
stranger-was doing something unusual when I directed him to let all hands turn in without
setting an
anchor watch. I proposed to keep on deck myself
till one o'clock or thereabouts. I would get the second mate to
relieve me at that hour.
"He will turn out the cook and the
steward at four," I concluded, "and then give you a call. Of course at the slightest sign of any sort of wind we'll have the hands up and make a start at once."
He
concealed his
astonishment. "Very well, sir." Outside the cuddy he put his head in the second mate's door to
inform him of my unheard-of
caprice to take a five hours'
anchor watch on myself. I heard the other
raise his voice
incredulously-"What? The Captain himself?" Then a few more murmurs, a door closed, then another. A few moments later I went on deck.
My strangeness, which had made me sleepless, had prompted that
unconventional arrangement, as if I had
expected in those
solitary hours of the night to get on terms with the ship of which I knew nothing, manned by men of whom I knew very little more. Fast alongside a
wharf, littered like any ship in
port with a
tangle of
unrelated things, invaded by
unrelated shore people, I had hardly seen her yet properly. Now, as she lay cleared for sea, the
stretch of her main-deck seemed to me very fine under the stars. Very fine, very roomy for her size, and very inviting. I descended the poop and paced the waist, my
mind picturing to myself the coming
passage through the Malay Archipelago, down the Indian Ocean, and up the Atlantic. All its phases were
familiar enough to me, every
characteristic, all the alternatives which were
likely to face me on the high seas-everything!... except the
novel responsibility of
command. But I took
heart from the
reasonable thought that the ship was like other ships, the men like other men, and that the sea was not
likely to keep any
special surprises expressly for my discomfiture.
Arrived at that comforting
conclusion, I bethought myself of a cigar and went below to get it. All was still down there. Everybody at the after end of the ship was sleeping
profoundly. I came out again on the quarter-deck, agreeably at
ease in my sleeping
suit on that warm breathless night, barefooted, a glowing cigar in my teeth, and, going
forward, I was met by the
profound silence of the
fore end of the ship. Only as I passed the door of the forecastle, I heard a deep, quiet, trustful
sigh of some
sleeper inside. And
suddenly I rejoiced in the great
security of the sea as compared with the unrest of the land, in my
choice of that untempted life presenting no
disquieting problems, invested with an
elementary moral beauty by the
absolute straightforwardness of its
appeal and by the singleness of its
purpose.
The riding light in the forerigging burned with a clear, untroubled, as if
symbolic,
flame,
confident and bright in the
mysterious shades of the night. Passing on my way
aft along the other side of the ship, I observed that the rope side ladder, put over, no
doubt, for the
master of the tug when he came to
fetch away our letters, had not been hauled in as it should have been. I became
annoyed at this, for exactitude in some small matters is the very
soul of
discipline. Then I reflected that I had myself peremptorily dismissed my officers from
duty, and by my own act had prevented the
anchor watch being
formally set and things properly attended to. I asked myself whether it was
wise ever to
interfere with the
established routine of duties even from the kindest of motives. My action
might have made me appear
eccentric. Goodness only knew how that absurdly whiskered mate would "
account" for my
conduct, and what the whole ship
thought of that informality of their new captain. I was
vexed with myself.
Not from
compunction certainly, but, as it were
mechanically, I proceeded to get the ladder in myself. Now a side ladder of that sort is a light
affair and comes in easily, yet my
vigorous tug, which should have brought it flying on
board,
merely recoiled upon my body in a totally unexpected jerk. What the devil!... I was so astounded by the immovableness of that ladder that I remained stock-still, trying to
account for it to myself like that
imbecile mate of
mine. In the end, of course, I put my head over the
rail.
The side of the ship made an
opaque belt of
shadow on the darkling glassy
shimmer of the sea. But I saw at once something elongated and
pale floating very close to the ladder. Before I could form a guess a
faint flash of
phosphorescent light, which seemed to
issue suddenly from the naked body of a man, flickered in the sleeping water with the
elusive, silent play of summer
lightning in a night sky. With a
gasp I saw revealed to my
stare a
pair of feet, the long legs, a
broad livid back immersed
right up to the neck in a greenish
cadaverous glow. One hand,
awash, clutched the bottom rung of the ladder. He was
complete but for the head. A headless
corpse! The cigar dropped out of my gaping mouth with a
tiny plop and a short
hiss quite
audible in the
absolute stillness of all things under heaven. At that I
suppose he raised up his face, a
dimly pale oval in the
shadow of the ship's side. But even then I could only
barely make out down there the
shape of his black-haired head. However, it was enough for the
horrid, frost-bound
sensation which had gripped me about the chest to pass off. The
moment of
vain exclamations was past, too. I only climbed on the
spare spar and leaned over the
rail as far as I could, to bring my eyes nearer to that
mystery floating alongside.
As he hung by the ladder, like a resting swimmer, the sea
lightning played about his limbs at every
stir; and he appeared in it
ghastly, silvery, fishlike. He remained as
mute as a fish, too. He made no
motion to get out of the water, either. It was
inconceivable that he should not
attempt to come on
board, and strangely
troubling to
suspect that perhaps he did not want to. And my first words were prompted by just that troubled incertitude.
"What's the
matter?" I asked in my
ordinary tone, speaking down to the face upturned exactly under
mine.
"Cramp," it answered, no louder. Then slightly
anxious, "I say, no
need to call anyone."
"I was not going to," I said.
"Are you alone on deck?"
"Yes."
I had somehow the
impression that he was on the point of letting go the ladder to swim away beyond my ken-
mysterious as he came. But, for the
moment, this being appearing as if he had risen from the bottom of the sea (it was
certainly the nearest land to the ship) wanted only to know the time. I told him. And he, down there,
tentatively:
"I
suppose your captain's turned in?"
"I am sure he isn't," I said.
He seemed to
struggle with himself, for I heard something like the low,
bitter murmur of
doubt. "What's the good?" His next words came out with a hesitating
effort.
"Look here, my man. Could you call him out quietly?"
I
thought the time had come to
declare myself.
"I am the captain."
I heard a "By Jove!" whispered at the
level of the water. The phosphorescence flashed in the
swirl of the water all about his limbs, his other hand seized the ladder.
"My name's Leggatt."
The voice was calm and
resolute. A good voice. The self-
possession of that man had somehow induced a
corresponding state in myself. It was very quietly that I remarked:
"You must be a good swimmer."
"Yes. I've been in the water
practically since nine o'clock. The question for me now is whether I am to let go this ladder and go on swimming
till I
sink from
exhaustion, or-to come on
board here."
I felt this was no
mere formula of
desperate speech, but a real
alternative in the view of a strong
soul. I should have gathered from this that he was young; indeed, it is only the young who are ever confronted by such clear issues. But at the time it was pure
intuition on my part. A
mysterious communication was
established already between us two-in the face of that silent, darkened
tropical sea. I was young, too; young enough to make no . The man in the water began
suddenly to climb up the ladder, and I hastened away from the
rail to
fetch some clothes.
Before entering the cabin I stood still, listening in the
lobby at the foot of the stairs. A
faint snore came
through the closed door of the chief mate's room. The second mate's door was on the hook, but the darkness in there was
absolutely soundless. He, too, was young and could sleep like a stone. Remained the
steward, but he was not
likely to
wake up before he was called. I got a sleeping
suit out of my room and, coming back on deck, saw the naked man from the sea sitting on the main
hatch, glimmering white in the darkness, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. In a
moment he had
concealed his
damp body in a sleeping
suit of the same gray-stripe
pattern as the one I was wearing and followed me like my double on the poop. Together we moved
right aft, barefooted, silent.
"What is it?" I asked in a deadened voice, taking the lighted lamp out of the binnacle, and raising it to his face.
"An ugly business."
He had rather regular features; a good mouth; light eyes under somewhat heavy, dark eyebrows; a
smooth, square forehead; no growth on his cheeks; a small, brown mustache, and a well-shaped, round chin. His
expression was
concentrated,
meditative, under the inspecting light of the lamp I held up to his face; such as a man thinking hard in
solitude might wear. My sleeping
suit was just
right for his size. A well-knit young fellow of twenty-five at most. He caught his lower lip with the
edge of white, even teeth.
"Yes," I said, replacing the lamp in the binnacle. The warm, heavy
tropical night closed upon his head again.
"There's a ship over there," he murmured.
"Yes, I know. The Sephora. Did you know of us?"
"Hadn't the slightest idea. I am the mate of her-" He paused and corrected himself. "I should say I was."
"Aha! Something wrong?"
"Yes. Very wrong indeed. I've killed a man."
"What do you
mean? Just now?"
"No, on the
passage. Weeks ago. Thirty-nine south. When I say a man-"
"Fit of
temper," I suggested, confidently.
The
shadowy, dark head, like
mine, seemed to nod
imperceptibly above the
ghostly gray of my sleeping
suit. It was, in the night, as though I had been faced by my own
reflection in the depths of a
somber and
immense mirror.
"A pretty thing to have to own up to for a Conway boy," murmured my double, distinctly.
"You're a Conway boy?"
"I am," he said, as if startled. Then, slowly... "Perhaps you too-"
It was so; but being a
couple of years older I had left before he joined. After a quick interchange of dates a
silence fell; and I
thought suddenly of my
absurd mate with his terrific whiskers and the "Bless my
soul-you don't say so" type of
intellect. My double gave me an
inkling of his thoughts by saying: "My father's a
parson in Norfolk. Do you see me before a judge and
jury on that charge? For myself I can't see the
necessity. There are fellows that an angel from heaven-And I am not that. He was one of those creatures that are just simmering all the time with a silly sort of wickedness. Miserable devils that have no business to live at all. He wouldn't do his
duty and wouldn't let anybody else do theirs. But what's the good of talking! You know well enough the sort of ill-conditioned snarling
cur-"
He appealed to me as if our experiences had been as
identical as our clothes. And I knew well enough the pestiferous danger of such a
character where there are no means of
legal repression. And I knew well enough also that my double there was no homicidal
ruffian. I did not think of asking him for details, and he told me the story roughly in
brusque, disconnected sentences. I needed no more. I saw it all going on as though I were myself inside that other sleeping
suit.
"It happened while we were
setting a reefed foresail, at
dusk. Reefed foresail! You
understand the sort of
weather. The only
sail we had left to keep the ship running; so you may guess what it had been like for days. Anxious sort of
job, that. He gave me some of his cursed
insolence at the
sheet. I tell you I was overdone with this terrific
weather that seemed to have no end to it. Terrific, I tell you-and a deep ship. I believe the fellow himself was half crazed with
funk. It was no time for gentlemanly
reproof, so I turned round and felled him like an ox. He up and at me. We closed just as an awful sea made for the ship. All hands saw it coming and took to the rigging, but I had him by the throat, and went on shaking him like a rat, the men above us yelling, 'Look out! look out!' Then a
crash as if the sky had
fallen on my head. They say that for over ten minutes hardly anything was to be seen of the ship-just the three masts and a bit of the forecastle head and of the poop all
awash driving along in a
smother of foam. It was a
miracle that they found us, jammed together behind the forebitts. It's clear that I meant business, because I was holding him by the throat still when they picked us up. He was black in the face. It was too much for them. It seems they rushed us
aft together, gripped as we were, screaming 'Murder!' like a lot of lunatics, and broke into the cuddy. And the ship running for her life, touch and go all the time, any
minute her last in a sea
fit to turn your hair gray only a-looking at it. I
understand that the skipper, too, started raving like the rest of them. The man had been
deprived of sleep for more than a week, and to have this sprung on him at the
height of a
furious gale nearly drove him out of his
mind. I
wonder they didn't
fling me
overboard after getting the
carcass of their
precious shipmate out of my fingers. They had rather a
job to
separate us, I've been told. A sufficiently
fierce story to make an old judge and a
respectable jury sit up a bit. The first thing I heard when I came to myself was the maddening howling of that endless
gale, and on that the voice of the old man. He was hanging on to my bunk, staring into my face out of his sou'wester.
"'Mr. Leggatt, you have killed a man. You can act no longer as chief mate of this ship.'"
His care to
subdue his voice made it
sound monotonous. He rested a hand on the end of the skylight to
steady himself with, and all that time did not
stir a
limb, so far as I could see. "Nice little
tale for a quiet tea party," he concluded in the same
tone.
One of my hands, too, rested on the end of the skylight; neither did I
stir a
limb, so far as I knew. We stood less than a foot from each other. It occurred to me that if old "Bless my
soul-you don't say so" were to put his head up the
companion and catch
sight of us, he would think he was seeing double, or
imagine himself come upon a
scene of
weird witchcraft; the
strange captain having a quiet
confabulation by the wheel with his own gray ghost. I became very much concerned to
prevent anything of the sort. I heard the other's
soothing undertone.
"My father's a
parson in Norfolk," it said. Evidently he had forgotten he had told me this important
fact before. Truly a nice little
tale.
"You had better slip down into my stateroom now," I said, moving off
stealthily. My double followed my movements; our bare feet made no
sound; I let him in, closed the door with care, and, after giving a call to the second mate, returned on deck for my
relief.
"Not much sign of any wind yet," I remarked when he approached.
"No, sir. Not much," he assented, sleepily, in his
hoarse voice, with just enough
deference, no more, and
barely suppressing a yawn.
"Well, that's all you have to look out for. You have got your orders."
"Yes, sir."
I paced a turn or two on the poop and saw him take up his position face
forward with his elbow in the ratlines of the mizzen rigging before I went below. The mate's
faint snoring was still going on peacefully. The cuddy lamp was burning over the
table on which stood a vase with flowers, a
polite attention from the ship's
provision merchant-the last flowers we should see for the next three months at the very least. Two bunches of bananas hung from the beam symmetrically, one on each side of the rudder casing. Everything was as before in the ship-except that two of her captain's sleeping suits were
simultaneously in use, one
motionless in the cuddy, the other keeping very still in the captain's stateroom.
It must be explained here that my cabin had the form of the
capital letter L, the door being within the
angle and opening into the short part of the letter. A couch was to the left, the bed place to the
right; my writing desk and the chronometers'
table faced the door. But anyone opening it, unless he stepped
right inside, had no view of what I call the long (or
vertical) part of the letter. It contained some lockers surmounted by a bookcase; and a few clothes, a thick jacket or two, caps, oilskin coat, and such like, hung on hooks. There was at the bottom of that part a door opening into my bathroom, which could be entered also
directly from the
saloon. But that way was never used.
The
mysterious arrival had discovered the
advantage of this
particular shape. Entering my room, lighted strongly by a big
bulkhead lamp swung on gimbals above my writing desk, I did not see him anywhere
till he stepped out quietly from behind the coats hung in the recessed part.
"I heard somebody moving about, and went in there at once," he whispered.
I, too,
spoke under my breath.
"Nobody is
likely to come in here without knocking and getting
permission."
He nodded. His face was
thin and the sunburn faded, as though he had been ill. And no
wonder. He had been, I heard
presently, kept under
arrest in his cabin for nearly seven weeks. But there was nothing
sickly in his eyes or in his
expression. He was not a bit like me, really; yet, as we stood leaning over my bed place, whispering side by side, with our dark heads together and our backs to the door, anybody
bold enough to open it
stealthily would have been treated to the
uncanny sight of a double captain busy talking in whispers with his other self.
"But all this doesn't tell me how you came to hang on to our side ladder," I inquired, in the hardly
audible murmurs we used, after he had told me something more of the proceedings on
board the Sephora once the bad
weather was over.
"When we sighted Java Head I had had time to think all those matters out
several times over. I had six weeks of doing nothing else, and with only an hour or so every evening for a
tramp on the quarter-deck."
He whispered, his arms folded on the side of my bed place, staring
through the open
port. And I could
imagine perfectly the manner of this thinking out-a
stubborn if not a
steadfast operation; something of which I should have been perfectly
incapable.
"I reckoned it would be dark before we closed with the land," he continued, so low that I had to
strain my hearing near as we were to each other, shoulder touching shoulder almost. "So I asked to speak to the old man. He always seemed very sick when he came to see me-as if he could not look me in the face. You know, that foresail saved the ship. She was too deep to have run long under bare poles. And it was I that managed to set it for him. Anyway, he came. When I had him in my cabin-he stood by the door looking at me as if I had the halter round my neck already-I asked him
right away to leave my cabin door unlocked at night while the ship was going
through Sunda Straits. There would be the Java
coast within two or three miles, off Angier Point. I wanted nothing more. I've had a prize for swimming my second year in the Conway."
"I can believe it," I breathed out.
"God only knows why they locked me in every night. To see some of their faces you'd have
thought they were afraid I'd go about at night strangling people. Am I a murdering
brute? Do I look it? By Jove! If I had been he wouldn't have trusted himself like that into my room. You'll say I
might have chucked him
aside and bolted out, there and then-it was dark already. Well, no. And for the same
reason I wouldn't think of trying to
smash the door. There would have been a rush to stop me at the noise, and I did not
mean to get into a
confounded scrimmage. Somebody else
might have got killed-for I would not have broken out only to get chucked back, and I did not want any more of that work. He refused, looking more sick than ever. He was afraid of the men, and also of that old second mate of his who had been sailing with him for years-a gray-headed old
humbug; and his
steward, too, had been with him devil knows how long-seventeen years or more-a
dogmatic sort of loafer who hated me like
poison, just because I was the chief mate. No chief mate ever made more than one
voyage in the Sephora, you know. Those two old chaps ran the ship. Devil only knows what the skipper wasn't afraid of (all his
nerve went to pieces altogether in that hellish spell of bad
weather we had)-of what the law would do to him-of his wife, perhaps. Oh, yes! she's on
board. Though I don't think she would have meddled. She would have been only too glad to have me out of the ship in any way. The '
brand of Cain' business, don't you see. That's all
right. I was ready enough to go off wandering on the face of the
earth-and that was price enough to pay for an Abel of that sort. Anyhow, he wouldn't listen to me. 'This thing must take its course. I
represent the law here.' He was shaking like a
leaf. 'So you won't?' 'No!' 'Then I hope you will be
able to sleep on that,' I said, and turned my back on him. 'I
wonder that you can,' cries he, and locks the door.
"Well after that, I couldn't. Not very well. That was three weeks ago. We have had a slow
passage through the Java Sea; drifted about Carimata for ten days. When we anchored here they
thought, I
suppose, it was all
right. The nearest land (and that's five miles) is the ship's
destination; the
consul would soon set about catching me; and there would have been no
object in holding to these islets there. I don't
suppose there's a
drop of water on them. I don't know how it was, but tonight that
steward, after bringing me my supper, went out to let me eat it, and left the door unlocked. And I ate it-all there was, too. After I had finished I strolled out on the quarter-deck. I don't know that I meant to do anything. A breath of
fresh air was all I wanted, I believe. Then a sudden
temptation came over me. I kicked off my slippers and was in the water before I had made up my
mind fairly. Somebody heard the splash and they raised an awful hullabaloo. 'He's gone! Lower the boats! He's
committed suicide! No, he's swimming.' Certainly I was swimming. It's not so easy for a swimmer like me to
commit suicide by drowning. I landed on the nearest islet before the boat left the ship's side. I heard them pulling about in the dark, hailing, and so on, but after a bit they gave up. Everything quieted down and the anchorage became still as death. I sat down on a stone and began to think. I felt
certain they would start searching for me at daylight. There was no place to
hide on those
stony things-and if there had been, what would have been the good? But now I was clear of that ship, I was not going back. So after a while I took off all my clothes, tied them up in a
bundle with a stone inside, and dropped them in the deep water on the outer side of that islet. That was
suicide enough for me. Let them think what they liked, but I didn't
mean to
drown myself. I meant to swim
till I sank-but that's not the same thing. I struck out for another of these little islands, and it was from that one that I first saw your riding light. Something to swim for. I went on easily, and on the way I came upon a flat rock a foot or two above water. In the daytime, I
dare say, you
might make it out with a glass from your poop. I scrambled up on it and rested myself for a bit. Then I made another start. That last spell must have been over a mile."
His
whisper was getting fainter and fainter, and all the time he stared
straight out
through the
porthole, in which there was not even a star to be seen. I had not interrupted him. There was something that made
impossible in his
narrative, or perhaps in himself; a sort of feeling, a
quality, which I can't find a name for. And when he ceased, all I found was a
futile whisper: "So you swam for our light?"
"Yes-
straight for it. It was something to swim for. I couldn't see any stars low down because the
coast was in the way, and I couldn't see the land, either. The water was like glass. One
might have been swimming in a
confounded thousand-feet deep
cistern with no place for scrambling out anywhere; but what I didn't like was the
notion of swimming round and round like a crazed bullock before I gave out; and as I didn't
mean to go back... No. Do you see me being hauled back,
stark naked, off one of these little islands by the scruff of the neck and fighting like a wild
beast? Somebody would have got killed for
certain, and I did not want any of that. So I went on. Then your ladder-"
"Why didn't you
hail the ship?" I asked, a little louder.
He touched my shoulder lightly. Lazy footsteps came
right over our heads and stopped. The second mate had crossed from the other side of the poop and
might have been hanging over the
rail for all we knew.
"He couldn't hear us talking-could he?" My double breathed into my very ear, anxiously.
His
anxiety was in answer, a
sufficient answer, to the question I had put to him. An answer containing all the
difficulty of that
situation. I closed the
porthole quietly, to make sure. A louder word
might have been overheard.
"Who's that?" he whispered then.
"My second mate. But I don't know much more of the fellow than you do."
And I told him a little about myself. I had been appointed to take charge while I least
expected anything of the sort, not quite a
fortnight ago. I didn't know either the ship or the people. Hadn't had the time in
port to look about me or size anybody up. And as to the
crew, all they knew was that I was appointed to take the ship home. For the rest, I was almost as much of a
stranger on
board as himself, I said. And at the
moment I felt it most acutely. I felt that it would take very little to make me a
suspect person in the eyes of the ship's company.
He had turned about meantime; and we, the two strangers in the ship, faced each other in
identical attitudes.
"Your ladder-" he murmured, after a
silence. "Who'd have
thought of finding a ladder hanging over at night in a ship anchored out here! I felt just then a very unpleasant faintness. After the life I've been leading for nine weeks, anybody would have got out of
condition. I wasn't
capable of swimming round as far as your rudder chains. And, lo and
behold! there was a ladder to get hold of. After I gripped it I said to myself, 'What's the good?' When I saw a man's head looking over I
thought I would swim away
presently and leave him shouting-in whatever
language it was. I didn't
mind being looked at. I-I liked it. And then you speaking to me so quietly-as if you had
expected me-made me hold on a little longer. It had been a
confounded lonely time-I don't
mean while swimming. I was glad to talk a little to somebody that didn't belong to the Sephora. As to asking for the captain, that was a
mere impulse. It could have been no use, with all the ship knowing about me and the other people pretty
certain to be round here in the morning. I don't know-I wanted to be seen, to talk with somebody, before I went on. I don't know what I would have said.... 'Fine night, isn't it?' or something of the sort."
"Do you think they will be round here
presently?" I asked with some
incredulity.
"Quite
likely," he said, faintly.
"He looked
extremely haggard all of a sudden. His head rolled on his shoulders.
"H'm. We shall see then. Meantime get into that bed," I whispered. "Want help? There."
It was a rather high bed place with a set of drawers underneath. This
amazing swimmer really needed the lift I gave him by seizing his leg. He tumbled in, rolled over on his back, and flung one arm across his eyes. And then, with his face nearly hidden, he must have looked exactly as I used to look in that bed. I gazed upon my other self for a while before drawing across carefully the two green serge curtains which ran on a brass rod. I
thought for a
moment of pinning them together for greater safety, but I sat down on the couch, and once there I felt unwilling to rise and hunt for a pin. I would do it in a
moment. I was
extremely tired, in a peculiarly
intimate way, by the
strain of stealthiness, by the
effort of whispering and the
general secrecy of this
excitement. It was three o'clock by now and I had been on my feet since nine, but I was not sleepy; I could not have gone to sleep. I sat there, fagged out, looking at the curtains, trying to clear my
mind of the
confused sensation of being in two places at once, and greatly bothered by an
exasperating knocking in my head. It was a
relief to
discover suddenly that it was not in my head at all, but on the outside of the door. Before I could
collect myself the words "Come in" were out of my mouth, and the
steward entered with a tray, bringing in my morning coffee. I had slept, after all, and I was so
frightened that I shouted, "This way! I am here,
steward," as though he had been miles away. He put down the tray on the
table next the couch and only then said, very quietly, "I can see you are here, sir." I felt him give me a
keen look, but I dared not meet his eyes just then. He must have wondered why I had drawn the curtains of my bed before going to sleep on the couch. He went out, hooking the door open as usual.
I heard the
crew washing decks above me. I knew I would have been told at once if there had been any wind. Calm, I
thought, and I was doubly
vexed. Indeed, I felt
dual more than ever. The
steward reappeared
suddenly in the doorway. I jumped up from the couch so quickly that he gave a start.
"What do you want here?"
"Close your
port, sir-they are washing decks."
"It is closed," I said, reddening.
"Very well, sir." But he did not move from the doorway and returned my
stare in an ,
equivocal manner for a time. Then his eyes wavered, all his
expression changed, and in a voice unusually
gentle, almost coaxingly:
"May I come in to take the
empty cup away, sir?"
"Of course!" I turned my back on him while he popped in and out. Then I unhooked and closed the door and even pushed the
bolt. This sort of thing could not go on very long. The cabin was as hot as an oven, too. I took a peep at my double, and discovered that he had not moved, his arm was still over his eyes; but his chest heaved; his hair was wet; his chin glistened with
perspiration. I reached over him and opened the
port.
"I must show myself on deck," I reflected.
Of course, theoretically, I could do what I liked, with no one to say nay to me within the whole circle of the
horizon; but to lock my cabin door and take the key away I did not
dare. Directly I put my head out of the
companion I saw the group of my two officers, the second mate barefooted, the chief mate in long India-rubber boots, near the break of the poop, and the
steward halfway down the poop ladder talking to them eagerly. He happened to catch
sight of me and dived, the second ran down on the main-deck shouting some order or other, and the chief mate came to meet me, touching his cap.
There was a sort of
curiosity in his eye that I did not like. I don't know whether the
steward had told them that I was "queer" only, or downright drunk, but I know the man meant to have a good look at me. I watched him coming with a smile which, as he got into point-blank
range, took
effect and froze his very whiskers. I did not give him time to open his lips.
"Square the yards by lifts and braces before the hands go to breakfast."
It was the first
particular order I had given on
board that ship; and I stayed on deck to see it executed, too. I had felt the
need of asserting myself without loss of time. That sneering young cub got taken down a peg or two on that
occasion, and I also seized the
opportunity of having a good look at the face of every foremast man as they filed past me to go to the after braces. At breakfast time, eating nothing myself, I presided with such
frigid dignity that the two mates were only too glad to
escape from the cabin as soon as
decency permitted; and all the time the
dual working of my
mind distracted me almost to the point of
insanity. I was constantly watching myself, my secret self, as
dependent on my actions as my own
personality, sleeping in that bed, behind that door which faced me as I sat at the head of the
table. It was very much like being
mad, only it was worse because one was
aware of it.
I had to shake him for a
solid minute, but when at last he opened his eyes it was in the full
possession of his senses, with an inquiring look.
"All's well so far," I whispered. "Now you must
vanish into the bathroom."
He did so, as noiseless as a ghost, and then I rang for the
steward, and facing him boldly, directed him to
tidy up my stateroom while I was having my bath-"and be quick about it." As my
tone admitted of no excuses, he said, "Yes, sir," and ran off to
fetch his dustpan and brushes. I took a bath and did most of my dressing, splashing, and whistling softly for the
steward's
edification, while the secret sharer of my life stood drawn up
bolt upright in that little space, his face looking very sunken in daylight, his eyelids lowered under the
stern, dark line of his eyebrows drawn together by a
slight frown.
When I left him there to go back to my room the
steward was finishing dusting. I sent for the mate and
engaged him in some
insignificant conversation. It was, as it were,
trifling with the terrific
character of his whiskers; but my
object was to give him an
opportunity for a good look at my cabin. And then I could at last shut, with a clear
conscience, the door of my stateroom and get my double back into the recessed part. There was nothing else for it. He had to sit still on a small folding stool, half smothered by the heavy coats hanging there. We listened to the
steward going into the bathroom out of the
saloon, filling the water bottles there, scrubbing the bath,
setting things to rights,
whisk, bang, clatter-out again into the
saloon-turn the key-click. Such was my
scheme for keeping my second self
invisible. Nothing better could be
contrived under the circumstances. And there we sat; I at my writing desk ready to appear busy with some papers, he behind me out of
sight of the door. It would not have been
prudent to talk in daytime; and I could not have stood the
excitement of that queer sense of whispering to myself. Now and then, glancing over my shoulder, I saw him far back there, sitting rigidly on the low stool, his bare feet close together, his arms folded, his head hanging on his breast-and perfectly still. Anybody would have taken him for me.
I was
fascinated by it myself. Every
moment I had to
glance over my shoulder. I was looking at him when a voice outside the door said:
"Beg
pardon, sir."
"Well!..." I kept my eyes on him, and so when the voice outside the door announced, "There's a ship's boat coming our way, sir," I saw him give a start-the first
movement he had made for hours. But he did not
raise his bowed head.
"All
right. Get the ladder over."
I hesitated. Should I
whisper something to him? But what? His
immobility seemed to have been never disturbed. What could I tell him he did not know already?... Finally I went on deck.