"
"One minute, Charlie. When the sea topped the bulwarks, what did it look
like?" I had my reasons for asking. A man of my acquaintance had once gone
down with a leaking ship in a still sea, and had seen the water-level pause
for an instant ere it fell on the deck.
"It looked just like a banjo-string drawn tight, and it seemed to stay there
for years," said Charlie.
Exactly! The other man had said: "It looked like a silver wire laid down along
the bulwarks, and I thought it was never going to break." He had paid
everything except the bare life for this little valueless piece of knowledge,
and I had traveled ten thousand weary miles to meet him and take his knowledge
at second hand. But Charlie, the bank-clerk, on twenty-five shillings a week,
he who had never been out of sight of a London omnibus, knew it all. It was no
consolation to me that once in his lives he had been forced to die for his
gains. I also must have died scores of times, but behind me, because I could
have used my knowledge, the doors were shut.
"And then?" I said, trying to put away the devil of envy.
"The funny thing was, though, in all the mess I didn't feel a bit astonished
or frightened. It seemed as if I'd been in a good many fights, because I told
my next man so when the row began.
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