{"id":"01KG8AKWPSB425J9Z4JTMVAQ0P","cid":"bafkreiaw4mxo4aw4je5x2xqmy4k476trh2klefz3lezprrxhldpgvg57au","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4356,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.023Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 22","source_file":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","start_line":4279,"text":"details more out of regard to common propriety, than from any\r\nimpression that weighty benefit to himself and his voyage was involved.\r\n\r\nSoon, his manner became still more reserved. The effort was vain to\r\nseek to draw him into social talk. Gnawed by his splenetic mood, he sat\r\ntwitching his beard, while to little purpose the hand of his servant,\r\nmute as that on the wall, slowly pushed over the Canary.\r\n\r\nLunch being over, they sat down on the cushioned transom; the servant\r\nplacing a pillow behind his master. The long continuance of the calm\r\nhad now affected the atmosphere. Don Benito sighed heavily, as if for\r\nbreath.\r\n\r\n“Why not adjourn to the cuddy,” said Captain Delano; “there is more air\r\nthere.” But the host sat silent and motionless.\r\n\r\nMeantime his servant knelt before him, with a large fan of feathers.\r\nAnd Francesco coming in on tiptoes, handed the negro a little cup of\r\naromatic waters, with which at intervals he chafed his master’s brow;\r\nsmoothing the hair along the temples as a nurse does a child’s. He\r\nspoke no word. He only rested his eye on his master’s, as if, amid all\r\nDon Benito’s distress, a little to refresh his spirit by the silent\r\nsight of fidelity.\r\n\r\nPresently the ship’s bell sounded two o’clock; and through the cabin\r\nwindows a slight rippling of the sea was discerned; and from the\r\ndesired direction.\r\n\r\n“There,” exclaimed Captain Delano, “I told you so, Don Benito, look!”\r\n\r\nHe had risen to his feet, speaking in a very animated tone, with a view\r\nthe more to rouse his companion. But though the crimson curtain of the\r\nstern-window near him that moment fluttered against his pale cheek, Don\r\nBenito seemed to have even less welcome for the breeze than the calm.\r\n\r\nPoor fellow, thought Captain Delano, bitter experience has taught him\r\nthat one ripple does not make a wind, any more than one swallow a\r\nsummer. But he is mistaken for once. I will get his ship in for him,\r\nand prove it.\r\n\r\nBriefly alluding to his weak condition, he urged his host to remain\r\nquietly where he was, since he (Captain Delano) would with pleasure\r\ntake upon himself the responsibility of making the best use of the\r\nwind.\r\n\r\nUpon gaining the deck, Captain Delano started at the unexpected figure\r\nof Atufal, monumentally fixed at the threshold, like one of those\r\nsculptured porters of black marble guarding the porches of Egyptian\r\ntombs.\r\n\r\nBut this time the start was, perhaps, purely physical. Atufal’s\r\npresence, singularly attesting docility even in sullenness, was\r\ncontrasted with that of the hatchet-polishers, who in patience evinced\r\ntheir industry; while both spectacles showed, that lax as Don Benito’s\r\ngeneral authority might be, still, whenever he chose to exert it, no\r\nman so savage or colossal but must, more or less, bow.\r\n\r\nSnatching a trumpet which hung from the bulwarks, with a free step\r\nCaptain Delano advanced to the forward edge of the poop, issuing his\r\norders in his best Spanish. The few sailors and many negroes, all\r\nequally pleased, obediently set about heading the ship towards the\r\nharbor.\r\n\r\nWhile giving some directions about setting a lower stu’n’-sail,\r\nsuddenly Captain Delano heard a voice faithfully repeating his orders.\r\nTurning, he saw Babo, now for the time acting, under the pilot, his\r\noriginal part of captain of the slaves. This assistance proved\r\nvaluable. Tattered sails and warped yards were soon brought into some\r\ntrim. And no brace or halyard was pulled but to the blithe songs of the\r\ninspirited negroes.\r\n\r\nGood fellows, thought Captain Delano, a little training would make fine\r\nsailors of them. Why see, the very women pull and sing too. These must\r\nbe some of those Ashantee negresses that make such capital soldiers,\r\nI’ve heard. But who’s at the helm. I must have a good hand there.\r\n\r\nHe went to see.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 22"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AK2X9P0E5X4X6Z77F9M13","peer_type":"intro","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKWPSNCCQV2Z30A58XR76","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKWPSY0BP5A6VQ77X5QHF","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:19.161Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:26.375Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}