Jimmy turned over the keys in his pocket. There wasn’t much to talk about, if you didn’t want to say anything.
“I heard an unpleasant scream just now, at the turning above.”
“Yers; they’re always nasty to hear. But there’s nothing in it. Take no notice, that’s the thing to do. No screams, guv’nor, take it from me, when someone’s really getting it in the neck. They take good care of that. As a rule. Only amateurs let ’em scream.” The constable was amused. “If they began with a loud noise our job would be as easy as kiss your hand. Go straight to it, couldn’t we? But they don’t oblige us. We have to find ’em afterwards.”
The officer seemed glad of someone to talk to. He eased his helmet.
“Take it from me, sir.” He jerked his left thumb over his shoulder. “Why, only last week a young feller up there, he tried it on. Came from another part of London. People always think they’re safe when they dunno where they are, like. Reckoned, I suppose, that anything could happen here and nobody would notice it. God bless me, the fact that he was here gave him away. What was he doing here? Of course, everybody asked that. Wouldn’t come here for pleasure, as you might say.” The constable chuckled again. “And there you are.”
“Where does this road lead to?”
“Same sort of thing all the way along. Comes out by Stepney Station. Go on far enough, and you’ll have to walk back, this time o’ night. Far to go?”
“I think I’ll be getting along, then.”
“Well, speaking for myself, I’d sooner be indoors. But, of course, if it’s the first time you’ve done it, it’s an experience. I hope you’ll enjoy it, sir.”
Jimmy hesitated, but then went his way. He strolled away from the light, but without knowing whether he was continuing in the same direction. He was not thinking of that. He took a side alley without knowing it, and continued to take whichever opening in the obscurity was the next one. No good trying to believe morning would ever come to that precinct. But he wanted the morning, he wanted it as soon as it could come.
This place looked like the forgotten lumberyard of creation. Objects that could not be published had been abandoned there. They held together because they had never been disturbed. The echoes of his footsteps might shake them down, so he made less noise. This was the very bottom of the night, and he had sunk to it by his own weight. One byway left him in a narrow passage, under a gas-jet, where he had to choose between right and left. He could see what used to be there. It used to be warehouses. He looked above, as if in appeal, for a suggestion of sky. There might have been one, but the ancient walls were close, and leaned towards each other, as if the weight of night with its density would bury that foundered corner. Jimmy felt that he was sunk profoundly from all communion with his fellows. The gas-jet made hardly any hollow in the gloom. It but selected for illumination a worn iron post, a scatter of chaff on cobblestones, horse droppings, and a few barrel-hoops. Then, almost melted into the dusk beyond the chaff on the cobbles, he saw a dog watching him. He saw its yellow eyes. It was a dog? Here, old fellow! When he moved that way it became only an ugly little noise, and was not there. An unseen hoop sprang from under his tread and bit him on the hand. But he did not cry out. Almost immediately he saw it was only a hoop.
As though it had only opened in the darkness since he came, he noticed before him a cleft in the wall. It could have been an outlet there. It was a lighter patch. While he wondered whether it was an outlet a green planet moved across it, midway, from side to side. The planet appeared suddenly, was bright for a few seconds, and then was eclipsed. As though that green light had caused it, he felt a cool draught blow steadily from across the way. What was there? Then a red star appeared midway, in the midst of a travelling cluster of white stars. Lord, a ship!
He listened rigidly. He could hear the plunging of a propeller. He made a guess. A red light? Then she was going east. She was bound outwards. He crossed over and walked down that slit in the dark till he felt only outer space was before him. There were remote points of light in a void. He stopped, and fumbled with his hand. Yes, this was the edge of his world.
He sat down on it. In a little while he could hear water talking quietly somewhere below him. It might have been near or far. It was invisible. Perhaps that was the tide running by the Southern Cross. That was a long sheer cold drop.
“Ahoy!” It was a clear but minute call from straight before him. “Aho‑o‑y!”
“I’m here,” said Jimmy to himself. “I’m coming.”
That caller would take some finding. How far to go? He sat looking at that idea till his plight, the monody of the waters, the far points of light, and a thin drizzle which began, all blurred into a stillness within which his waking mind became like one of the stars sunk deeply in the void. He was hardly there.
Had he been asleep? It had been raining. He was wet. When he stood on the edge, he heard, as if from across the
