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- 2026-01-30T07:57:55.409Z
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- 2923
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- Here he paused; his hand to his head, as if there were a swimming
there, or a sudden bewilderment of memory had come over him; but
meeting his servant’s kindly glance seemed reassured, and proceeded:—
“I could not scourge such a form. But I told him he must ask my pardon.
As yet he has not. At my command, every two hours he stands before me.”
“And how long has this been?”
“Some sixty days.”
“And obedient in all else? And respectful?”
“Yes.”
“Upon my conscience, then,” exclaimed Captain Delano, impulsively, “he
has a royal spirit in him, this fellow.”
“He may have some right to it,” bitterly returned Don Benito, “he says
he was king in his own land.”
“Yes,” said the servant, entering a word, “those slits in Atufal’s ears
once held wedges of gold; but poor Babo here, in his own land, was only
a poor slave; a black man’s slave was Babo, who now is the white’s.”
Somewhat annoyed by these conversational familiarities, Captain Delano
turned curiously upon the attendant, then glanced inquiringly at his
master; but, as if long wonted to these little informalities, neither
master nor man seemed to understand him.
“What, pray, was Atufal’s offense, Don Benito?” asked Captain Delano;
“if it was not something very serious, take a fool’s advice, and, in
view of his general docility, as well as in some natural respect for
his spirit, remit him his penalty.”
“No, no, master never will do that,” here murmured the servant to
himself, “proud Atufal must first ask master’s pardon. The slave there
carries the padlock, but master here carries the key.”
His attention thus directed, Captain Delano now noticed for the first,
that, suspended by a slender silken cord, from Don Benito’s neck, hung
a key. At once, from the servant’s muttered syllables, divining the
key’s purpose, he smiled, and said:—“So, Don Benito—padlock and
key—significant symbols, truly.”
Biting his lip, Don Benito faltered.
Though the remark of Captain Delano, a man of such native simplicity as
to be incapable of satire or irony, had been dropped in playful
allusion to the Spaniard’s singularly evidenced lordship over the
black; yet the hypochondriac seemed some way to have taken it as a
malicious reflection upon his confessed inability thus far to break
down, at least, on a verbal summons, the entrenched will of the slave.
Deploring this supposed misconception, yet despairing of correcting it,
Captain Delano shifted the subject; but finding his companion more than
ever withdrawn, as if still sourly digesting the lees of the presumed
affront above-mentioned, by-and-by Captain Delano likewise became less
talkative, oppressed, against his own will, by what seemed the secret
vindictiveness of the morbidly sensitive Spaniard. But the good sailor,
himself of a quite contrary disposition, refrained, on his part, alike
from the appearance as from the feeling of resentment, and if silent,
was only so from contagion.
Presently the Spaniard, assisted by his servant somewhat discourteously
crossed over from his guest; a procedure which, sensibly enough, might
have been allowed to pass for idle caprice of ill-humor, had not master
and man, lingering round the corner of the elevated skylight, began
whispering together in low voices. This was unpleasing. And more; the
moody air of the Spaniard, which at times had not been without a sort
of valetudinarian stateliness, now seemed anything but dignified; while
the menial familiarity of the servant lost its original charm of
simple-hearted attachment.
- title
- Chunk 15