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- 1730
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:26.981Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1683
- text
- XIII
This incident sorely puzzled Billy Budd. It was an entirely new
experience; the first time in his life that he had ever been personally
approached in underhand intriguing fashion. Prior to this encounter he
had known nothing of the afterguardsman, the two men being stationed
wide apart, one forward and aloft during his watch, the other on deck
and aft.
What could it mean? And could they really be guineas, those two
glittering objects the interloper had held up to his (Billy’s) eyes?
Where could the fellow get guineas? Why, even buttons, spare buttons,
are not so plentiful at sea. The more he turned the matter over, the
more he was nonplussed, and made uneasy and discomforted. In his
disgustful recoil from an overture which though he but ill comprehended
he instinctively knew must involve evil of some sort, Billy Budd was
like a young horse fresh from the pasture suddenly inhaling a vile whiff
from some chemical factory, and by repeated snortings tries to get it
out of his nostrils and lungs. This frame of mind barred all desire of
holding further parley with the fellow, even were it but for the purpose
of gaining some enlightenment as to his design in approaching him. And
yet he was not without natural curiosity to see how such a visitor in
the dark would look in broad day.
He espied him the following afternoon in his first dog-watch below, one
of the smokers on that forward part of the upper gun-deck allotted to
the pipe. He recognised him by his general cut and build, more than by
his round freckled face and glassy eyes of pale blue veiled with lashes
all but white. And yet Billy was a bit uncertain whether indeed it were
he--yonder chap about his own age, chatting and laughing in free-hearted
way, leaning against a gun; a genial young fellow enough to look at, and
something of a rattle-brain, to all appearance. Rather chubby, too, for
a sailor, even an afterguardsman. In short, the last man in the world,
one would think, to be overburthened with thoughts, especially those
perilous thoughts that must needs belong to a conspirator in any serious
project, or even to the underling of such a conspirator.
Although Billy was not aware of it, the fellow with a sidelong watchful
glance had perceived Billy first, and then noting that Billy was looking
at him, thereupon nodded a familiar sort of friendly recognition as to
an old acquaintance, without interrupting the talk he was engaged in
with the group of smokers. A day or two afterwards, chancing in the
evening promenade on a gun-deck to pass Billy, he offered a flying word
of good-fellowship, as it were, which by its unexpectedness, and
equivocalness under the circumstances, so embarrassed Billy, that he
knew not how to respond to it, and let it go unnoticed.
- title
- Chunk 1