Heart of Darkness and The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad Read Free Book Online Page A

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.
    â€˜â€˜What do you want here?’’
    â€˜â€˜Close your port, sir—they are washing decks.’’
    â€˜â€˜It is closed,’’ I said, reddening.
    â€˜â€˜Very well, sir.’’ But he did not move from the doorway and returned my stare in an extraordinary, equivocal manner for a time. Then his eyes wavered, all his expression changed, and in a voice unusually gentle, almost coaxingly:
    â€˜â€˜May I come in to take the empty cup away, sir?’’
    â€˜â€˜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.
    â€˜â€˜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.
    â€˜â€˜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.
    â€˜â€˜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