the secret sharer-第8节

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slippers　on　my　bare　feet）　I　stopped　at　the　open　pantry　door　and　spoke

to　the　steward。　　He　was　doing　something　there　with　his　back　to　me。

At　the　sound　of　my　voice　he　nearly　jumped　out　of　his　skin；

as　the　saying　is；　and　incidentally　broke　a　cup。



〃What　on　earth's　the　matter　with　you？〃　　I　asked；　astonished。



He　was　extremely　confused。　　〃Beg　your　pardon；　sir。　　I　made　sure

you　were　in　your　cabin。〃



〃You　see　I　wasn't。〃



〃No；　sir。　　I　could　have　sworn　I　had　heard　you　moving　in　there　not

a　moment　ago。　　It's　most　extraordinary　。　。　。　very　sorry；　sir。〃



I　passed　on　with　an　inward　shudder。　　I　was　so　identified

with　my　secret　double　that　I　did　not　even　mention

the　fact　in　those　scanty；　fearful　whispers　we　exchanged。

I　suppose　he　had　made　some　slight　noise　of　some　kind　or　other。

It　would　have　been　miraculous　if　he　hadn't　at　one　time　or　another。

And　yet；　haggard　as　he　appeared；　he　looked　always　perfectly

self…controlled；　more　than　calmalmost　invulnerable。

On　my　suggestion　he　remained　almost　entirely　in

the　bathroom；　which；　upon　the　whole；　was　the　safest　place。

There　could　be　really　no　shadow　of　an　excuse　for　anyone　ever

wanting　to　go　in　there；　once　the　steward　had　done　with　it。

It　was　a　very　tiny　place。　　Sometimes　he　reclined　on

the　floor；　his　legs　bent；　his　head　sustained　on　one　elbow。

At　others　I　would　find　him　on　the　campstool；　sitting　in　his　gray

sleeping　suit　and　with　his　cropped　dark　hair　like　a　patient；

unmoved　convict。　　At　night　I　would　smuggle　him　into　my　bed　place；

and　we　would　whisper　together；　with　the　regular　footfalls　of

the　officer　of　the　watch　passing　and　repassing　over　our　heads。

It　was　an　infinitely　miserable　time。　　It　was　lucky　that　some

tins　of　fine　preserves　were　stowed　in　a　locker　in　my　stateroom；

hard　bread　I　could　always　get　hold　of；　and　so　he　lived　on　stewed

chicken；　PATE　DE　FOIE　GRAS；　asparagus；　cooked　oysters；　sardines

on　all　sorts　of　abominable　sham　delicacies　out　of　tins。

My　early…morning　coffee　he　always　drank；　and　it　was　all　I

dared　do　for　him　in　that　respect。



Every　day　there　was　the　horrible　maneuvering　to　go　through　so　that　my　room

and　then　the　bathroom　should　be　done　in　the　usual　way。　　I　came　to　hate

the　sight　of　the　steward；　to　abhor　the　voice　of　that　harmless　man。

I　felt　that　it　was　he　who　would　bring　on　the　disaster　of　discovery。

It　hung　like　a　sword　over　our　heads。



The　fourth　day　out；　I　think　（we　were　then　working　down　the　east　side

of　the　Gulf　of　Siam；　tack　for　tack；　in　light　winds　and　smooth　water）

the　fourth　day；　I　say；　of　this　miserable　juggling　with　the　unavoidable；

as　we　sat　at　our　evening　meal；　that　man；　whose　slightest　movement

I　dreaded；　after　putting　down　the　dishes　ran　up　on　deck　busily。

This　could　not　be　dangerous。　　Presently　he　came　down　again；

and　then　it　appeared　that　he　had　remembered　a　coat　of　mine

which　I　had　thrown　over　a　rail　to　dry　after　having　been　wetted

in　a　shower　which　had　passed　over　the　ship　in　the　afternoon。

Sitting　stolidly　at　the　head　of　the　table　I　became　terrified　at

the　sight　of　the　garment　on　his　arm。　　Of　course　he　made　for　my　door。

There　was　no　time　to　lose。



〃Steward；〃　I　thundered。　　My　nerves　were　so　shaken　that　I

could　not　govern　my　voice　and　conceal　my　agitation。

This　was　the　sort　of　thing　that　made　my　terrifically

whiskered　mate　tap　his　forehead　with　his　forefinger。

I　had　detected　him　using　that　gesture　while　talking　on　deck

with　a　confidential　air　to　the　carpenter。　　It　was　too　far

to　hear　a　word；　but　I　had　no　doubt　that　this　pantomime　could

only　refer　to　the　strange　new　captain。



〃Yes；　sir；〃　the　pale…faced　steward　turned　resignedly　to　me。

It　was　this　maddening　course　of　being　shouted　at；　checked　without

rhyme　or　reason；　arbitrarily　chased　out　of　my　cabin；　suddenly　called

into　it；　sent　flying　out　of　his　pantry　on　incomprehensible　errands；

that　accounted　for　the　growing　wretchedness　of　his　expression。



〃Where　are　you　going　with　that　coat？〃



〃To　your　room；　sir。〃



〃Is　there　another　shower　coming？〃



〃I'm　sure　I　don't　know；　sir。　　Shall　I　go　up　again　and　see；　sir？〃



〃No！　never　mind。〃



My　object　was　attained；　as　of　course　my　other　self　in　there　would　have　heard

everything　that　passed。　　During　this　interlude　my　two　officers　never　raised

their　eyes　off　their　respective　plates；　but　the　lip　of　that　confounded　cub；

the　second　mate；　quivered　visibly。



I　expected　the　steward　to　hook　my　coat　on　and　come　out　at　once。

He　was　very　slow　about　it；　but　I　dominated　my　nervousness

sufficiently　not　to　shout　after　him。　　Suddenly　I　became　aware

（it　could　be　heard　plainly　enough）　that　the　fellow　for　some　reason

or　other　was　opening　the　door　of　the　bathroom。　　It　was　the　end。

The　place　was　literally　not　big　enough　to　swing　a　cat　in。

My　voice　died　in　my　throat　and　I　went　stony　all　over。

I　expected　to　hear　a　yell　of　surprise　and　terror；　and　made

a　movement；　but　had　not　the　strength　to　get　on　my　legs。

Everything　remained　still。　　Had　my　second　self　taken　the　poor

wretch　by　the　throat？　　I　don't　know　what　I　could　have　done

next　moment　if　I　had　not　seen　the　steward　come　out　of　my　room；

close　the　door；　and　then　stand　quietly　by　the　sideboard。



〃Saved；〃　I　thought。　　〃But；　no！　　Lost！　　Gone！　　He　was　gone！〃



I　laid　my　knife　and　fork　down　and　leaned　back　in　my　chair。　　My　head　swam。

After　a　while；　when　sufficiently　recovered　to　speak　in　a　steady　voice；

I　instructed　my　mate　to　put　the　ship　round　at　eight　o'clock　himself。



〃I　won't　come　on　deck；〃　I　went　on。　　〃I　think　I'll　turn　in；　and　unless

the　wind　shifts　I　don't　want　to　be　disturbed　before　midnight。

I　feel　a　bit　seedy。〃



〃You　did　look　middling　bad　a　little　while　ago；〃　the　chief　mate　remarked

without　showing　any　great　concern。



They　both　went　out；　and　I　stared　at　the　steward　clearing　the　table。

There　was　nothing　to　be　read　on　that　wretched　man's　face。

But　why　did　he　avoid　my　eyes；　I　asked　myself。　　Then　I　thought　I

should　like　to　hear　the　sound　of　his　voice。



〃Steward！〃



〃Sir！〃　　Startled　as　usual。



〃Where　did　you　hang　up　that　coat？〃



〃In　the　bathroom；　sir。〃　　The　usual　anxious　tone。

〃It's　not　quite　dry　yet；　sir。〃



For　some　time　longer　I　sat　in　the　cuddy。　　Had　my　double　vanished

as　he　had　come？　　But　of　his　coming　there　was　an　explanation；

whereas　his　disappearance　would　be　inexplicable。　　。　。　。　I　went

slowly　into　my　dark　room；　shut　the　door；　lighted　the　lamp；

and　for　a　time　dared　not　turn　round。　　When　at　last　I　did　I

saw　him　standing　bolt…upright　in　the　narrow　recessed　part。

It　would　not　be　true　to　say　I　had　a　shock；　but　an　irresistible

doubt　of　his　bodily　existence　flitted　through　my　mind。

Can　it　be；　I　asked　myself；　that　he　is　not　visible　to　other　eyes

than　mine？　　It　was　like　being　haunted。　　Motionless；　with　a

grave　face；　he　raised　his　hands　slightly　at　me　in　a　gesture

which　meant　clearly；　〃Heavens！　what　a　narrow　escape！〃

Narrow　indeed。　　I　think　I　had　come　creeping　quietly　as　near

insanity　as　any　man　who　has　not　actually　gone　over　the　border。

That　gesture　restrained　me；　so　to　speak。



The　mate　with　the　terrific　whiskers　was　now　putting　the　ship

on　the　other　tack。　　In　the　moment　of　profound　silence

which　follows　upon　the　hands　going　to　their　stations　I　heard

on　the　poop　his　raised　voice：　　〃Hard　alee！〃　and　the　distant

shout　of　the　order　repeated　on　the　main…deck。　The　sails；

in　that　light　breeze；　made　but　a　faint　fluttering　noise。

It　ceased。　　The　ship　was　coming　round　slowly：　　I　held　my　breath

in　the　renewed　stillness　of　expectation；　one　wouldn't　have

thought　that　there　was　a　single　living　soul　on　her　decks。

A　sudden　brisk　shout；　〃Mainsail　haul！〃　broke　the　spell；

and　in　the　noisy　cries　and　rush　overhead　of　the　men　running　away

with　the　main　brace　we　two；　down　in　my　cabin；　came　together

in　our　usual　position　by　the　bed　place。



He　did　not　wait　for　my　question。　　〃I　heard　him　fumbling　here　and　just

managed　to　squat　myself　down　in　the　bath；〃　he　whispered　to　me。

〃The　fellow　only　opened　the　door　and　put　his　arm　in　to　hang　the　coat　up。

All　the　same〃



〃I　never　thought　of　that；〃　I　whispered　back；　even　more　appalled

than　before　at　the　closeness　of　the　shave；　and　marveling　at

that　something　unyielding　in　his　character　which　was　carrying

him　through　so　finely。　　There　was　no　agitation　in　his　whisper。

Whoever　was　being　driven　distracted；　it　was　not　he。　　He　was　sane。

And　the　proof　of　his　sanity　was　continued　when　he　took　up

the　whispering　again。



〃It　would　never　do　for　me　to　come　to　life　again。〃



It　was　something　that　a　ghost　might　have　said。　　But　what　he　was　alluding

to　was　his　old　captain's　reluctant　admission　of　the　theory　of　suicide。

It　would　obviously　serve　his　turnif　I　had　understood　at　all　the　view

which　seemed　to　govern　the　unalterable　purpose　of　his　action。



〃You　must　maroon　me　as　soon　as　ever　you　can　get　amongst　these　islands

off　the　Cambodge　shore；〃　he　went　on。



〃Maroon　you！　　We　are　not　living　in　a　boy's　adventure　tale；〃　I　protested。