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Updated: May 23, 2025
He did not attend to the other's remark, but his fingers strayed to his waistcoat pocket and fumbled there. Loder saw the gesture. "Look here," he said, "you are overtaxing yourself. The affair of the pay isn't pressing; we'll shelve it to another night. You look tired out." Chilcote lifted his eyes with a relieved glance. "Thanks. I do feel a bit fagged.
It was the cargo deck mike that was open. I keyed. "If you have a report, Chilcote, go ahead," I said. Suddenly someone was shouting into the mike, incoherently. I caught words, cursing. Then Chilcote's voice, "Captain," he said. "Captain, please come quick." There was a loud clatter, noise, then only the hum of the mike.
He looked at Chilcote with his haggard, anxious expression, his eager, restless eyes; and a vision of himself followed sharp upon his glance. A vision of the untiring labor of the past ten days, of the slowly kindling ambition, of the supremacy all but gained.
Still struggling with his impression, he allowed himself to be relieved of his hat and coat and in silence ushered up the shallow staircase. As the last step was reached it came to him again to mention his host's name; but simultaneously with the suggestion the servant stepped forward with a quick, silent movement and threw open a door. "Mr. Chilcote!" he announced, in a subdued, discreet voice.
Something like that." Both were silent for a moment. Chilcote pulled hard at his cigarette, then, remembering his obligations, he turned quickly to the other. "Won't you smoke?" he asked. The stranger accepted a cigarette from the case held out to him; and as he did so the extraordinary likeness to himself struck Chilcote with added force.
He stood literally amazed before the sweeping credulity that met him on every hand. Men who had known Chilcote from his youth, servants who had been in his employment for years, joined issue in the unquestioning acceptance.
Like all other experiments, his showed unlooked-for features when put to a working test. Its expected difficulties smoothed themselves away, while others, scarcely anticipated, came into prominence. Most notable of all, the physical likeness between himself and Chilcote, the bedrock of the whole scheme, which had been counted upon to offer most danger, worked without a hitch.
He had paused on one of the small stone islands that break the current of traffic, and was waiting for an opportunity to cross the street. In the glare of light from the lamp above his head, Chilcote saw for the first time that, under a remarkable neatness of appearance, his clothes were well worn almost shabby. The discovery struck him with something stronger than surprise.
For a time that seemed interminable he stood motionless; then, when he judged the tea finished, he turned slowly. Chilcote had drawn closer to the fire. He was obviously braced by the warmth; and the apathy that hung about him was to some extent dispelled. Still moving slowly, Loder went towards him, and, relieving him of the empty cup, stood looking down at him.
He stretched his arms luxuriously, delighting in the glossy smoothness of the sheets. What was it Chilcote had said? Better live for a day than exist for a lifetime! That was true; and life had begun. At thirty-six he was to know it for the first time. He smiled, but without irony. Man is at his best at thirty-six, he mused.
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