{"id":"01KG8AKWPHPCBN89TYPSADNMA3","cid":"bafkreiatr4u73wwjc47x4d6qmfwzgqvlfm6wxbelixyax2slezztqvhghq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4043,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.023Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 17","source_file":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","start_line":3973,"text":"basin and rubbed on the face.\r\n\r\nIn the present instance salt-water was used for lack of better; and the\r\nparts lathered were only the upper lip, and low down under the throat,\r\nall the rest being cultivated beard.\r\n\r\nThe preliminaries being somewhat novel to Captain Delano, he sat\r\ncuriously eying them, so that no conversation took place, nor, for the\r\npresent, did Don Benito appear disposed to renew any.\r\n\r\nSetting down his basin, the negro searched among the razors, as for the\r\nsharpest, and having found it, gave it an additional edge by expertly\r\nstrapping it on the firm, smooth, oily skin of his open palm; he then\r\nmade a gesture as if to begin, but midway stood suspended for an\r\ninstant, one hand elevating the razor, the other professionally\r\ndabbling among the bubbling suds on the Spaniard’s lank neck. Not\r\nunaffected by the close sight of the gleaming steel, Don Benito\r\nnervously shuddered; his usual ghastliness was heightened by the\r\nlather, which lather, again, was intensified in its hue by the\r\ncontrasting sootiness of the negro’s body. Altogether the scene was\r\nsomewhat peculiar, at least to Captain Delano, nor, as he saw the two\r\nthus postured, could he resist the vagary, that in the black he saw a\r\nheadsman, and in the white a man at the block. But this was one of\r\nthose antic conceits, appearing and vanishing in a breath, from which,\r\nperhaps, the best regulated mind is not always free.\r\n\r\nMeantime the agitation of the Spaniard had a little loosened the\r\nbunting from around him, so that one broad fold swept curtain-like over\r\nthe chair-arm to the floor, revealing, amid a profusion of armorial\r\nbars and ground-colors—black, blue, and yellow—a closed castle in a\r\nblood red field diagonal with a lion rampant in a white.\r\n\r\n“The castle and the lion,” exclaimed Captain Delano—“why, Don Benito,\r\nthis is the flag of Spain you use here. It’s well it’s only I, and not\r\nthe King, that sees this,” he added, with a smile, “but”—turning\r\ntowards the black—“it’s all one, I suppose, so the colors be gay;”\r\nwhich playful remark did not fail somewhat to tickle the negro.\r\n\r\n“Now, master,” he said, readjusting the flag, and pressing the head\r\ngently further back into the crotch of the chair; “now, master,” and\r\nthe steel glanced nigh the throat.\r\n\r\nAgain Don Benito faintly shuddered.\r\n\r\n“You must not shake so, master. See, Don Amasa, master always shakes\r\nwhen I shave him. And yet master knows I never yet have drawn blood,\r\nthough it’s true, if master will shake so, I may some of these times.\r\nNow master,” he continued. “And now, Don Amasa, please go on with your\r\ntalk about the gale, and all that; master can hear, and, between times,\r\nmaster can answer.”\r\n\r\n“Ah yes, these gales,” said Captain Delano; “but the more I think of\r\nyour voyage, Don Benito, the more I wonder, not at the gales, terrible\r\nas they must have been, but at the disastrous interval following them.\r\nFor here, by your account, have you been these two months and more\r\ngetting from Cape Horn to St. Maria, a distance which I myself, with a\r\ngood wind, have sailed in a few days. True, you had calms, and long\r\nones, but to be becalmed for two months, that is, at least, unusual.\r\nWhy, Don Benito, had almost any other gentleman told me such a story, I\r\nshould have been half disposed to a little incredulity.”\r\n\r\nHere an involuntary expression came over the Spaniard, similar to that\r\njust before on the deck, and whether it was the start he gave, or a\r\nsudden gawky roll of the hull in the calm, or a momentary unsteadiness\r\nof the servant’s hand, however it was, just then the razor drew blood,\r\nspots of which stained the creamy lather under the throat: immediately\r\nthe black barber drew back his steel, and, remaining in his\r\nprofessional attitude, back to Captain Delano, and face to Don Benito,\r\nheld up the trickling razor, saying, with a sort of half humorous\r\nsorrow, “See, master—you shook so—here’s Babo’s first blood.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 17"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AK2X9P0E5X4X6Z77F9M13","peer_type":"intro","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKWPSNKTJECD26563K6R5","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKWPS75P44J7SWC2FK0QX","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:19.153Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:25.946Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}