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5 -- QUESTIONS
In his embarrassment, the visitor turned his face to the other
side of the ship. By so doing, his glance accidentally fell on a young
Spanish sailor, a coil of rope in his hand, just stepped from the deck
to the first round of the mizzen-rigging. Perhaps the man would not
have been particularly noticed, were it not that, during his ascent to
one of the yards, he, with a sort of covert intentness, kept his eye
fixed on Captain Delano, from whom, presently, it passed, as if by a
natural sequence, to the two whisperers.
His own attention thus redirected to that quarter, Captain
Delano gave a slight start. From something in Don Benito's manner just
then, it seemed as if the visitor had, at least partly, been the
subject of the withdrawn consultation going on -- a conjecture as little
agreeable to the guest as it was little flattering to the host.
The singular alternations of courtesy and ill-breeding in the
Spanish captain were unaccountable, except on one of two suppositions --
innocent lunacy, or wicked imposture.
But the first idea, though it might naturally have occurred to
an indifferent observer, and, in some respects, had not hitherto
been wholly a stranger to Captain Delano's mind, yet, now that, in
an incipient way, he began to regard the stranger's conduct
something in the light of an intentional affront, of course the idea
of lunacy was virtually vacated. But if not a lunatic, what then?
Under the circumstances, would a gentleman, nay, any honest boor,
act the part now acted by his host? The man was an impostor. Some
lowborn adventurer, masquerading as an oceanic grandee; yet so
ignorant of the first requisites of mere gentlemanhood as to be
betrayed into the present remarkable indecorum. That strange
ceremoniousness, too, at other times evinced, seemed not
uncharacteristic of one playing a part above his real level. Benito
Cereno -- Don Benito Cereno -- a sounding name. One, too, at that
period, not unknown, in the surname, to supercargoes and sea
captains trading along the Spanish Main, as belonging to one of the
most enterprising and extensive mercantile families in all those
provinces; several members of it having titles; a sort of Castilian
Rothschild, with a noble brother, or cousin, in every great trading
town of South America. The alleged Don Benito was in early manhood,
about twenty-nine or thirty. To assume a sort of roving cadetship in
the maritime affairs of such a house, what more likely scheme for a
young knave of talent and spirit? But the Spaniard was a pale invalid.
Never mind. For even to the degree of simulating mortal disease, the
craft of some tricksters had been known to attain. To think that,
under the aspect of infantile weakness, the most savage energies might
be couched -- those velvets of the Spaniard but the velvet paw to his
fangs.
From no train of thought did these fancies come; not from
within, but from without; suddenly, too, and in one throng, like
hoar frost; yet as soon to vanish as the mild sun of Captain
Delano's good-nature regained its meridian.
Glancing over once again toward Don Benito -- whose side-face,
revealed above the skylight, was now turned toward him -- Captain Delano
was struck by the profile, whose clearness of cut was refined by the
thinness incident to ill-health, as well as ennobled about the chin by
the beard. Away with suspicion. He was a true off-shoot of a true
hidalgo Cereno.
Relieved by these and other better thoughts, the visitor,
lightly humming a tune, now began indifferently pacing the poop, so as
not to betray to Don Benito that be had at all mistrusted
incivility, much less duplicity; for such mistrust would yet be proved
illusory, and by the event; though, for the present, the
circumstance which had provoked that distrust remained unexplained.
But when that little mystery should have been cleared up, Captain
Delano thought he might extremely regret it, did he allow Don Benito
to become aware that he had indulged in ungenerous surmises. In short,
to the Spaniard's black-letter text, it was best, for a while, to
leave open margin.
Presently, his pale face twitching and overcast, the Spaniard,
still supported by his attendant, moved over toward his guest, when,
with even more than usual embarrassment, and a strange sort of
intriguing intonation in his husky whisper, the following conversation
began:
"Senor, may I ask how long you have lain at this isle?"
"Oh, but a day or two, Don Benito."
"And from what port are you last?"
"Canton."
"And there, Senor, you exchanged your seal-skins for teas and
silks, I think you said?"
"Yes. Silks, mostly."
"And the balance you took in specie, perhaps?"
Captain Delano, fidgeting a little, answered --
"Yes; some silver; not a very great deal, though."
"Ah -- well. May I ask how many men have you on board, Senor?"
Captain Delano slightly started, but answered:
"About five-and-twenty, all told."
"And at present, Senor, all on board, I suppose?"
"All on board, Don Benito," replied the captain now with
satisfaction.
"And will be to-night, Senor?"
At this last question, following so many pertinacious ones, for
the soul of him Captain Delano could not but look very earnestly at
the questioner, who, instead of meeting the glance, with every token
of craven discomposure dropped his eyes to the deck; presenting an
unworthy contrast to his servant, who, just then, was kneeling at
his feet adjusting a loose shoe-buckle; his disengaged face
meantime, with humble curiosity, turned openly up into his master's
downcast one.
The Spaniard, still with a guilty shuffle, repeated his question:
"And -- and will be to-night, Senor?"
"Yes, for aught I know," returned Captain Delano,- "but nay,"
rallying himself into fearless truth, "some of them talked of going
off on another fishing party about midnight."
"Your ships generally go -- go more or less armed, I believe,
Senor?"
"Oh, a six-pounder or two, in case of emergency," was the
intrepidly indifferent reply, "with a small stock of muskets,
sealing-spears, and cutlasses, you know."
As he thus responded, Captain Delano again glanced at Don
Benito, but the latter's eyes were averted; while abruptly and
awkwardly shifting the subject, he made some peevish allusion to the
calm, and then, without apology, once more, with his attendant,
withdrew to the opposite bulwarks, where the whispering was resumed.
At this moment, and ere Captain Delano could cast a cool thought
upon what had just passed, the young Spanish sailor before mentioned
was seen descending from the rigging. In act of stooping over to
spring inboard to the deck, his voluminous, unconfined frock, or
shirt, of coarse woollen, much spotted with tar, opened out far down
the chest, revealing a soiled under-garment of what seemed the
finest linen, edged, about the neck, with a narrow blue ribbon,
sadly faded and worn. At this moment the young sailor's eye was
again fixed on the whisperers, and Captain Delano thought he
observed a lurking significance in it, as if silent signs of some
freemason sort had that instant been interchanged.
This once more impelled his own glance in the direction of Don
Benito, and, as before, he could not but infer that himself formed the
subject of the conference. He paused. The sound of the
hatchet-polishing fell on his ears. He cast another swift side-look at
the two. They had the air of conspirators. In connection with the late
questionings, and the incident of the young sailor, these things now
begat such return of involuntary suspicion, that the singular
guilelessness of the American could not endure it. Plucking up a gay
and humorous expression, he crossed over to the two rapidly, saying:
"Ha, Don Benito, your black here seems high in your trust; a sort of
privy-counsellor, in fact."
Upon this, the servant looked up with a good-natured grin, but the
master started as from a venomous bite. It was a moment or two
before the Spaniard sufficiently recovered himself to reply; which
he did, at last, with cold constraint: "Yes, Senor, I have trust in
Babo."
Here Babo, changing his previous grin of mere animal humour into
an intelligent smile, not ungratefully eyed his master.
Finding that the Spaniard now stood silent and reserved, as if
involuntarily, or purposely giving hint that his guest's proximity was
inconvenient just then, Captain Delano, unwilling to appear uncivil
even to incivility itself, made some trivial remark and moved off;
again and again turning over in his mind the mysterious demeanour of
Don Benito Cereno.
He had descended from the poop, and, wrapped in thought, was
passing near a dark hatchway, leading down into the steerage, when,
perceiving motion there, he looked to see what moved. The same instant
there was a sparkle in the shadowy hatchway, and he saw one of the
Spanish sailors, prowling there, hurriedly placing his hand in the
bosom of his frock, as if hiding something. Before the man could
have been certain who it was that was passing, he slunk below out of
sight. But enough was seen of him to make it sure that he was the same
young sailor before noticed in the rigging.
What was that which so sparkled? thought Captain Delano. It was no
lamp -- no match -- no live coal. Could it have been a jewel? But how come
sailors with jewels? -- or with silk-trimmed undershirts either? Has
he been robbing the trunks of the dead cabin passengers? But if so, he
would hardly wear one of the stolen articles on board ship here. Ah,
ah -- if now that was, indeed, a secret sign I saw passing between
this suspicious fellow and his captain awhile since; if I could only
be certain that in my uneasiness my senses did not deceive me, then --
Here, passing from one suspicious thing to another, his mind
revolved the point of the strange questions put to him concerning
his ship.
By a curious coincidence, as each point was recalled, the black
wizards of Ashantee would strike up with their hatchets, as in ominous
comment on the white stranger's thoughts. Pressed by such enigmas
and portents, it would have been almost against nature, had not,
even into the least distrustful heart, some ugly misgivings obtruded.
Observing the ship now helplessly fallen into a current, with
enchanted sails, drifting with increased rapidity seaward; and
noting that, from a lately intercepted projection of the land, the
sealer was hidden, the stout mariner began to quake at thoughts
which he barely durst confess to himself. Above all, he began to
feel a ghostly dread of Don Benito. And yet when he roused himself,
dilated his chest, felt himself strong on his legs, and coolly
considered it -- what did all these phantoms amount to?
Had the Spaniard any sinister scheme, it must have reference not
so much to him (Captain Delano) as to his ship (the Bachelor's
Delight). Hence the present drifting away of the one ship from the
other, instead of favouring any such possible scheme, was, for the
time at least, opposed to it. Clearly any suspicion, combining such
contradictions, must need be delusive. Beside, was it not absurd to
think of a vessel in distress -- a vessel by sickness almost dismanned
of her crew -- a vessel whose inmates were parched for water -- was it not
a thousand times absurd that such a craft should, at present, be of
a piratical character; or her commander, either for himself or those
under him, cherish any desire but for speedy relief and refreshment?
But then, might not general distress, and thirst in particular, be
affected? And might not that same undiminished Spanish crew, alleged
to have perished off to a remnant, be at that very moment lurking in
the hold? On heart-broken pretence of entreating a cup of cold
water, fiends in human form had got into lonely dwellings, nor retired
until a dark deed had been done. And among the Malay pirates, it was
no unusual thing to lure ships after them into their treacherous
harbours, or entice boarders from a declared enemy at sea, by the
spectacle of thinly manned or vacant decks, beneath which prowled a
hundred spears with yellow arms ready to upthrust them through the
mats. Not that Captain Delano had entirely credited such things. He
had heard of them -- and now, as stories, they recurred. The present
destination of the ship was the anchorage. There she would be near his
own vessel. Upon gaining that vicinity, might not the San Dominick,
like a slumbering volcano, suddenly let loose energies now hid?
He recalled the Spaniard's manner while telling his story. There
was a gloomy hesitancy and subterfuge about it. It was just the manner
of one making up his tale for evil purposes, as he goes. But if that
story was not true, what was the truth? That the ship had unlawfully
come into the Spaniard's possession? But in many of its details,
especially in reference to the more calamitous parts, such as the
fatalities among the seamen, the consequent prolonged beating about,
the past sufferings from obstinate calms, and still continued
suffering from thirst; in all these points, as well as others, Don
Benito's story had been corroborated not only by the wailing
ejaculations of the indiscriminate multitude, white and black, but
likewise -- what seemed impossible to be counterfeit -- by the very
expression and play of every human feature, which Captain Delano
saw. If Don Benito's story was throughout an invention, then every
soul on board, down to the youngest Negress, was his carefully drilled
recruit in the plot: an incredible inference. And yet, if there was
ground for mistrusting the Spanish captain's veracity, that
inference was a legitimate one.
In short, scarce an uneasiness entered the honest sailor's mind
but, by a subsequent spontaneous act of good sense, it was ejected. At
last he began to laugh at these forebodings; and laugh at the
strange ship for, in its aspect someway siding with them, as it
were; and laugh, too, at the odd-looking blacks, particularly those
old scissors-grinders, the Ashantees; and those bed-ridden old
knitting-women, the oakum-pickers; and, in a human way, he almost
began to laugh at the dark Spaniard himself, the central hobgoblin
of all.
For the rest, whatever in a serious way seemed enigmatical, was
now good-naturedly explained away by the thought that, for the most
part, the poor invalid scarcely knew what he was about; either sulking
in black vapours, or putting random questions without sense or object.
Evidently, for the present, the man was not fit to be entrusted with
the ship. On some benevolent plea withdrawing the command from him,
Captain Delano would yet have to send her to Concepcion in charge of
his second mate, a worthy person and good navigator -- a plan which
would prove no wiser for the San Dominick than for Don Benito; for --
relieved from all anxiety, keeping wholly to his cabin -- the sick
man, under the good nursing of his servant, would probably, by the end
of the passage, be in a measure restored to health and with that he
should also be restored to authority.
Benito Cereno
by Herman Melville
Herman Melville Page in Great Books Index
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