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- 2026-01-30T07:57:55.409Z
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- text
- it, did he allow Don Benito to become aware that he had indulged in
ungenerous surmises. In short, to the Spaniard’s black-letter text, it
was best, for awhile, to leave open margin.
Presently, his pale face twitching and overcast, the Spaniard, still
supported by his attendant, moved over towards his guest, when, with
even more than his usual embarrassment, and a strange sort of
intriguing intonation in his husky whisper, the following conversation
began:—
“Señor, may I ask how long you have lain at this isle?”
“Oh, but a day or two, Don Benito.”
“And from what port are you last?”
“Canton.”
“And there, Señor, you exchanged your sealskins for teas and silks, I
think you said?”
“Yes, Silks, mostly.”
“And the balance you took in specie, perhaps?”
Captain Delano, fidgeting a little, answered—
“Yes; some silver; not a very great deal, though.”
“Ah—well. May I ask how many men have you, Señor?”
Captain Delano slightly started, but answered—
“About five-and-twenty, all told.”
“And at present, Señor, all on board, I suppose?”
“All on board, Don Benito,” replied the Captain, now with satisfaction.
“And will be to-night, Señor?”
At this last question, following so many pertinacious ones, for the
soul of him Captain Delano could not but look very earnestly at the
questioner, who, instead of meeting the glance, with every token of
craven discomposure dropped his eyes to the deck; presenting an
unworthy contrast to his servant, who, just then, was kneeling at his
feet, adjusting a loose shoe-buckle; his disengaged face meantime, with
humble curiosity, turned openly up into his master’s downcast one.
The Spaniard, still with a guilty shuffle, repeated his question:
“And—and will be to-night, Señor?”
“Yes, for aught I know,” returned Captain Delano—“but nay,” rallying
himself into fearless truth, “some of them talked of going off on
another fishing party about midnight.”
“Your ships generally go—go more or less armed, I believe, Señor?”
“Oh, a six-pounder or two, in case of emergency,” was the intrepidly
indifferent reply, “with a small stock of muskets, sealing-spears, and
cutlasses, you know.”
As he thus responded, Captain Delano again glanced at Don Benito, but
the latter’s eyes were averted; while abruptly and awkwardly shifting
the subject, he made some peevish allusion to the calm, and then,
without apology, once more, with his attendant, withdrew to the
opposite bulwarks, where the whispering was resumed.
At this moment, and ere Captain Delano could cast a cool thought upon
what had just passed, the young Spanish sailor, before mentioned, was
seen descending from the rigging. In act of stooping over to spring
inboard to the deck, his voluminous, unconfined frock, or shirt, of
coarse woolen, much spotted with tar, opened out far down the chest,
revealing a soiled under garment of what seemed the finest linen,
edged, about the neck, with a narrow blue ribbon, sadly faded and worn.
At this moment the young sailor’s eye was again fixed on the
whisperers, and Captain Delano thought he observed a lurking
significance in it, as if silent signs, of some Freemason sort, had
that instant been interchanged.
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