{"id":"01KG8AKJZCM4WSAHQ2R3F8BDKS","cid":"bafkreif4b2k2vnybh6ctlo7svpfdyykqcogatyvkhdrgxsy5mjx3o5t3ua","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4086,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:05.590Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1DKC9HHJRKY25JZBEXW","start_line":3999,"text":"fiercely waged battle against tyrannical odds.\r\n\r\n“Did you go to sea young, lad?”\r\n\r\n“Yes, pretty young.”\r\n\r\n“I went at twelve, from Whitehaven. Only so high,” raising his hand\r\nsome four feet from the deck. “I was so small, and looked so queer in\r\nmy little blue jacket, that they called me the monkey. They’ll call me\r\nsomething else before long. Did you ever sail out of Whitehaven?”\r\n\r\n“No, Captain.”\r\n\r\n“If you had, you’d have heard sad stories about me. To this hour they\r\nsay there that I—bloodthirsty, coward dog that I am—flogged a sailor,\r\none Mungo Maxwell, to death. It’s a lie, by Heaven! I flogged him, for\r\nhe was a mutinous scamp. But he died naturally, some time afterwards,\r\nand on board another ship. But why talk? They didn’t believe the\r\naffidavits of others taken before London courts, triumphantly\r\nacquitting me; how then will they credit _my_ interested words? If\r\nslander, however much a lie, once gets hold of a man, it will stick\r\ncloser than fair fame, as black pitch sticks closer than white cream.\r\nBut let ’em slander. I will give the slanderers matter for curses. When\r\nlast I left Whitehaven, I swore never again to set foot on her pier,\r\nexcept, like Caesar, at Sandwich, as a foreign invader. Spring under\r\nme, good ship; on you I bound to my vengeance!”\r\n\r\nMen with poignant feelings, buried under an air of care-free self\r\ncommand, are never proof to the sudden incitements of passion. Though\r\nin the main they may control themselves, yet if they but once permit\r\nthe smallest vent, then they may bid adieu to all self-restraint, at\r\nleast for that time. Thus with Paul on the present occasion. His\r\nsympathy with Israel had prompted this momentary ebullition. When it\r\nwas gone by, he seemed not a little to regret it. But he passed it over\r\nlightly, saying, “You see, my fine fellow, what sort of a bloody\r\ncannibal I am. Will you be a sailor of mine? A sailor of the Captain\r\nwho flogged poor Mungo Maxwell to death?”\r\n\r\n“I will be very happy, Captain Paul, to be sailor under the man who\r\nwill yet, I dare say, help flog the British nation to death.”\r\n\r\n“You hate ’em, do ye?”\r\n\r\n“Like snakes. For months they’ve hunted me as a dog,” half howled and\r\nhalf wailed Israel, at the memory of all he had suffered.\r\n\r\n“Give me your hand, my lion; wave your wild flax again. By Heaven, you\r\nhate so well, I love ye. You shall be my confidential man; stand sentry\r\nat my cabin door; sleep in the cabin; steer my boat; keep by my side\r\nwhenever I land. What do you say?”\r\n\r\n“I say I’m glad to hear you.”\r\n\r\n“You are a good, brave soul. You are the first among the millions of\r\nmankind that I ever naturally took to. Come, you are tired. There, go\r\ninto that state-room for to-night—it’s mine. You offered me your bed in\r\nParis.”\r\n\r\n“But you begged off, Captain, and so must I. Where do you sleep?”\r\n\r\n“Lad, I don’t sleep half a night out of three. My clothes have not been\r\noff now for five days.”\r\n\r\n“Ah, Captain, you sleep so little and scheme so much, you will die\r\nyoung.”\r\n\r\n“I know it: I want to: I mean to. Who would live a doddered old stump?\r\nWhat do you think of my Scotch bonnet?”\r\n\r\n“It looks well on you, Captain.”\r\n\r\n“Do you think so? A Scotch bonnet, though, ought to look well on a\r\nScotchman. I’m such by birth. Is the gold band too much?”\r\n\r\n“I like the gold band, Captain. It looks something as I should think a\r\ncrown might on a king.”\r\n\r\n“Aye?”\r\n\r\n“You would make a better-looking king than George III.”\r\n\r\n“Did you ever see that old granny? Waddles about in farthingales, and\r\ncarries a peacock fan, don’t he? Did you ever see him?”\r\n\r\n“Was as close to him as I am to you now, Captain. In Kew Gardens it\r\nwas, where I worked gravelling the walks. I was all alone with him,\r\ntalking for some ten minutes.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AK6WF9E7WXG0FFCT340YT","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1DKC9HHJRKY25JZBEXW","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKJZ2VDVYZBHPAM6F8SHT","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKKFRP1YJG2Z995FG2P3V","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.196Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.844Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}