Heart of Darkness and The Secret Sharer Read Online Free PDF

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 comment. 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.
    â€˜â€˜What is it?’’ I asked in a deadened voice, taking the lighted lamp out of the binnacle, and raising it to his face.
    â€˜â€˜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.
    â€˜â€˜Yes,’’ I said, replacing the lamp in the binnacle. The warm, heavy tropical night closed upon his head again.
    â€˜â€˜There’s a ship over there,’’ he murmured.
    â€˜â€˜Yes, I know. The Sephora. Did you know of us?’’
    â€˜â€˜Hadn’t the slightest idea. I am the mate of her——’’ He paused and corrected himself. ‘‘I should say I was. ’’
    â€˜â€˜Aha! Something wrong?’’
    â€˜â€˜Yes. Very wrong indeed. I’ve killed a man.’’
    â€˜â€˜What do you mean? Just now?’’
    â€˜â€˜No, on the passage. Weeks ago. Thirty-nine south. When I say a man——’’
    â€˜â€˜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.
    â€˜â€˜A pretty thing to have to own up to for a Conway boy,’’ murmured my double, distinctly.
    â€˜â€˜You’re a Conway boy?’’
    â€˜â€˜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