Before I had been long in bed he entered. He was, as far as I could see, a very tall man, very thin, very pale, with sandy hair and whiskers and colorless grey eyes. He had about him, I thought, an air of rather dubious fashion; the short of man you might see in Wall Street, without being able precisely to say what he was doing there the sort of man who frequents the Café Anglais, who always seems to be alone and who drinks champagne; you might meet him on a racecourse, but he would never appear to be doing anything there either. A little over-dressed a little odd. There are three or four of his kind on every ocean steamer. I made up my mind that I did not care to make his acquaintance, and I went to sleep saying to myself that I would study his habits in order to avoid him. If he rose early, I would rise late; if he went to bed late, I would go to bed early. I did not care to know him. If you once know people of that kind they are always turning up. Poor fellow! I need not have taken the trouble to come to so many decisions about him, for I never saw him again after that first night in one hundred and five.
I was sleeping soundly when I was suddenly waked by a loud noise. To judge from the sound, my room-mate must have sprung with a single leap from the upper berth to the floor. I heard him fumbling with the latch and bolt of the door, which opened almost immediately, and then I heard his footsteps as he ran at full speed down the passage, leaving the door open behind him. The ship was rolling a little, and I expected to hear him stumble or fall, but he ran as though he were running for his life. The door swung on its hinges with the motion of the vessel, and the sound annoyed me. I got up and shut it, and groped my way back to my berth in the darkness. I went to sleep again; but I have no idea how long I slept.
When I awoke it was still quite dark, but I felt a disagreeable sensation of cold, and it seemed to me that the air was damp. You know the peculiar smell of a cabin which has been wet with sea-water. I covered myself up as well as I could and dozed off again, framing complaints to be made the next day, and selecting the most powerful epithets in the language. I could hear my room-mate turn over in the upper berth. He had probably returned while I was asleep. Once I thought I heard him groan, and I argued that he was sea-sick. That is particularly unpleasant when one is below. Nevertheless I dozed off and slept till early daylight.
The ship was rolling heavily, much more than on the previous evening, and the grey light which came in through the porthole changed in tint with every movement according as the angle of the vessels side turned the glass seawards or skywards. It was very cold unaccountably so for the month of June. I turned my head and looked at the porthole, and saw to my surprise that it was wide open and hooked back. I believe I swore audibly. Then I got up and shut it. As I turned back I glanced at the upper berth. The curtains were drawn close together; my companion had probably felt cold as well as I. It struck me that I had slept enough. The state-room was uncomfortable, though, strange to say, I could not smell the dampness which had annoyed me in the night. My room-mate was still asleep excellent opportunity for avoiding him, so I dressed at once and went on deck. The day was warm and cloudy, with an oily smell on the water. It was seven oclock as I came out much later than I had imagined. I came across the doctor, who was taking his first sniff of the morning air. He was a young man from the West of Ireland a tremendous fellow, with black hair and blue eyes, already inclined to be stout; he had a happy-go-lucky, healthy look about him which was rather attractive.
Fine morning, I remarked, by way of introduction.
Well, said he, eyeing me with an air of ready interest, its a fine morning and its not a fine morning. I dont think its much of a morning.
Well, no it is not so very fine, said I.
Its just what I call fuggy weather, replied the doctor.
It was very cold last night, I thought, I remarked. However, when I looked about, I found that the porthole was wide open. I had not noticed it when I went to bed. And the state-room was damp, too.
Damp! said he. Whereabouts are you?
One hundred and five
To my surprise the doctor started visibly, and stared at me.
What is the matter? I asked.
Oh nothing, he answered; only everybody has complained of that state-room for the last three trips.
I shall complain too, I said. It has certainly not been properly aired. It is a shame!
I dont believe it can be helped, answered the doctor. I believe there is something well, it is not my business to frighten passengers.
You need not be afraid of frightening me, I replied. I can stand any amount of damp. If I should get a bad cold I will come to you.
I offered the doctor a cigar, which he took and examined very critically.
It is not so much the damp, he remarked. However, I dare say you will get on very well. Have you a room-mate?
Yes; a deuce of a fellow, who bolts out in the middle of the night, and leaves the door open.
Again the doctor glanced curiously at me. Then he lit the cigar and looked grave.
Did he come back? he asked presently.
Yes. I was asleep, but I waked up, and heard him moving. Then I felt cold and went to sleep again. This morning I found the porthole open.
Look here, said the doctor quietly, I dont care much for this ship. I dont care a rap for her reputation. I tell you what I will do. I have a good-sized place up here. I will share it with you, though I dont know you from Adam.
I was very much surprised at the proposition. I could not imagine why he should take such a sudden interest in my welfare. However, his manner as he spoke of the ship was peculiar.
You are very good, doctor, I said. But, really, I believe even now the cabin could be aired, or cleaned out, or something. Why do you not care for the ship?
We are not superstitious in our profession, sir, replied the doctor, but the sea makes people so. I dont want to prejudice you, and I dont want to frighten you, but if you will take my advice you will move in here. I would as soon see you overboard, he added earnestly, as know that you or any other man was to sleep in one hundred and five.
Good gracious! Why? I asked.
Just because on the last three trips the people who have slept there actually have gone overboard, he answered gravely.
The intelligence was startling and exceedingly unpleasant, I confess. I looked hard at the doctor to see whether he was making game of me, but he looked perfectly serious. I thanked him warmly for his offer, but told him I intended to be the exception to the rule by which every one who slept in that particular state-room went overboard. He did not say much, but looked as grave as ever, and hinted that, before we got across, I should probably reconsider his proposal. In the course of time we went to breakfast, at which only an inconsiderable number of passengers assembled. I noticed that one or two of the officers who breakfasted with us looked grave. After breakfast I went into my state-room in order to get a book. The curtains of the upper berth were still closely drawn. Not a word was to be heard. My room-mate was probably still asleep.
As I came out I met the steward whose business it was to look after me. He whispered that the captain wanted to see me, and then scuttled away down the passage as if very anxious to avoid any questions. I went toward the captains cabin, and found him waiting for me.