"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 calm--almost 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 Idared 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 Icould 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 Ishould 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 Isaw 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.
