{"id":"01KG6YHBKD99GQKM0JF2GH6CMV","cid":"bafkreidqxovfvhzmxlnwsgt3fyfhalukyu63tyqtzhalksyy743m772dny","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2933,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:55.409Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 14","source_file":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","start_line":2847,"text":"mine—and that warm heart; all, all—like scraps to the dogs—to throw all\r\nto the sharks! It was then I vowed never to have for fellow-voyager a\r\nman I loved, unless, unbeknown to him, I had provided every requisite,\r\nin case of a fatality, for embalming his mortal part for interment on\r\nshore. Were your friend’s remains now on board this ship, Don Benito,\r\nnot thus strangely would the mention of his name affect you.”\r\n\r\n“On board this ship?” echoed the Spaniard. Then, with horrified\r\ngestures, as directed against some spectre, he unconsciously fell into\r\nthe ready arms of his attendant, who, with a silent appeal toward\r\nCaptain Delano, seemed beseeching him not again to broach a theme so\r\nunspeakably distressing to his master.\r\n\r\nThis poor fellow now, thought the pained American, is the victim of\r\nthat sad superstition which associates goblins with the deserted body\r\nof man, as ghosts with an abandoned house. How unlike are we made! What\r\nto me, in like case, would have been a solemn satisfaction, the bare\r\nsuggestion, even, terrifies the Spaniard into this trance. Poor\r\nAlexandro Aranda! what would you say could you here see your\r\nfriend—who, on former voyages, when you, for months, were left behind,\r\nhas, I dare say, often longed, and longed, for one peep at you—now\r\ntransported with terror at the least thought of having you anyway nigh\r\nhim.\r\n\r\nAt this moment, with a dreary grave-yard toll, betokening a flaw, the\r\nship’s forecastle bell, smote by one of the grizzled oakum-pickers,\r\nproclaimed ten o’clock, through the leaden calm; when Captain Delano’s\r\nattention was caught by the moving figure of a gigantic black, emerging\r\nfrom the general crowd below, and slowly advancing towards the elevated\r\npoop. An iron collar was about his neck, from which depended a chain,\r\nthrice wound round his body; the terminating links padlocked together\r\nat a broad band of iron, his girdle.\r\n\r\n“How like a mute Atufal moves,” murmured the servant.\r\n\r\nThe black mounted the steps of the poop, and, like a brave prisoner,\r\nbrought up to receive sentence, stood in unquailing muteness before Don\r\nBenito, now recovered from his attack.\r\n\r\nAt the first glimpse of his approach, Don Benito had started, a\r\nresentful shadow swept over his face; and, as with the sudden memory of\r\nbootless rage, his white lips glued together.\r\n\r\nThis is some mulish mutineer, thought Captain Delano, surveying, not\r\nwithout a mixture of admiration, the colossal form of the negro.\r\n\r\n“See, he waits your question, master,” said the servant.\r\n\r\nThus reminded, Don Benito, nervously averting his glance, as if\r\nshunning, by anticipation, some rebellious response, in a disconcerted\r\nvoice, thus spoke:—\r\n\r\n“Atufal, will you ask my pardon, now?”\r\n\r\nThe black was silent.\r\n\r\n“Again, master,” murmured the servant, with bitter upbraiding eyeing\r\nhis countryman, “Again, master; he will bend to master yet.”\r\n\r\n“Answer,” said Don Benito, still averting his glance, “say but the one\r\nword, _pardon_, and your chains shall be off.”\r\n\r\nUpon this, the black, slowly raising both arms, let them lifelessly\r\nfall, his links clanking, his head bowed; as much as to say, “no, I am\r\ncontent.”\r\n\r\n“Go,” said Don Benito, with inkept and unknown emotion.\r\n\r\nDeliberately as he had come, the black obeyed.\r\n\r\n“Excuse me, Don Benito,” said Captain Delano, “but this scene surprises\r\nme; what means it, pray?”\r\n\r\n“It means that that negro alone, of all the band, has given me peculiar\r\ncause of offense. I have put him in chains; I—”\r\n\r\nHere he paused; his hand to his head, as if there were a swimming\r\nthere, or a sudden bewilderment of memory had come over him; but\r\nmeeting his servant’s kindly glance seemed reassured, and proceeded:—\r\n\r\n“I could not scourge such a form. But I told him he must ask my pardon.\r\nAs yet he has not. At my command, every two hours he stands before me.”\r\n\r\n“And how long has this been?”\r\n\r\n“Some sixty days.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 14"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGB7Z3K8B6BYJGR83VQN5","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YHAXC7QTY0R4XJEHC647B","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6YHBKD5TAVXZCTRPVR8D8P","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:58.765Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:58:03.964Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}