"Pardon me, "said Captain Delano slowly, "but I think that, by a sympathetic experience, I conjecture, Don Benito,what it is that gives the keener edge to your grief. It was once my hard fortune to lose at sea a dear friend, my own brother, then supercargo. Assured of the welfare of his spirit, its departure I could have borne like a man;but that honest eye,that honest hand- both of which had so often met mine- and that warm heart; all,all- like scraps to the dogs- to throw all to the sharks! It was then I vowed never to have for fellow-voyager a man I loved,unless,unbeknown to him,I had provided every requisite,in case of a fatality, for embalming his mortal part for interment on shore. Were your friend's remains now on board this ship, Don Benito,not thus strangely would the mention of his name affect you."

　　"On board this ship? "echoed the Spaniard. Then, with horrified gestures, as directed against some spectre, he unconsciously fell into the ready arms of his attendant, who, with a silent appeal toward Captain Delano, seemed beseeching him not again to broach a theme so unspeakably distressing to his master.

　　This poor fellow now, thought the pained American,is the victim of that sad superstition which associates goblins with the deserted body of man, as ghosts with an abandoned house. How unlike are we made!What to me, in like case, would have been a solemn satisfaction, the bare suggestion,even,terrifies the Spaniard into this trance.Poor Alexandro Aranda! what would you say could you see your friend-who, on former voyages, when you for months were left behind, has, I dare say, often longed, and longed,for one peep at you- now transported with terror at the least thought of having you anyway nigh him.

　　At this moment, with a dreary graveyard toll,betokening a flaw,the ship's forecastle bell, smote by one of the grizzled oakum-pickers, proclaimed ten o'clock through the leaden calm; when Captain Delano's attention was caught by the moving figure of a gigantic black,emerging from the general crowd below, and slowly advancing toward the elevated poop. An iron collar was about his neck, from which depended a chain, thrice wound round his body; the terminating links padlocked together at a broad band of iron,his girdle.

　　"How like a mute Atufal moves,"murmured the servant.

　　The black mounted the steps of the poop,and,like a brave prisoner, brought up to receive sentence,stood in unquailing muteness before Don Benito,now recovered from his attack.

　　At the first glimpse of his approach, Don Benito had started, a resentful shadow swept over his face; and,as with the sudden memory of bootless rage,his white lips glued together.

　　This is some mulish mutineer, thought Captain Delano,surveying,not without a mixture of admiration,the colossal form of the Negro.

　　"See,he waits your question,master,"said the servant.

　　Thus reminded, Don Benito, nervously averting his glance, as if shunning, by anticipation, some rebellious response, in a disconcerted voice,thus spoke:

　　"Atufal,will you ask my pardon now?"

　　The black was silent.

　　"Again, master,"murmured the servant,with bitter upbraiding eyeing his countryman."Again,master;he will bend to master yet."

　　"Answer, "said Don Benito, still averting his glance, "say but the one word pardon,and your chains shall be off."

　　Upon this, the black, slowly raising both arms,let them lifelessly fall, his links clanking, his head bowed; as much as to say, "No, I am content."

　　"Go,"said Don Benito,with inkept and unknown emotion.

　　Deliberately as he had come,the black obeyed.

　　"Excuse me, Don Benito, "said Captain Delano, "but this scene surprises me;what means it,pray?"

　　"It means that that Negro alone, of all the band, has given me peculiar cause of offence. I have put him in chains;I-"

　　Here he paused; his hand to his head, as if there were a swimming there,or a sudden bewilderment of memory had come over him;but meeting his servant's kindly glance seemed reassured,and proceeded:

　　"I could not scourge such a form. But I told him he must ask my pardon. As yet he has not. At my command, every two hours he stands before me."

　　"And how long has this been?"

　　"Some sixty days."

　　"And obedient in all else?And respectful?"

　　"Yes."

　　"Upon my conscience,then,"exclaimed Captain Delano,impulsively,"he has a royal spirit in him,this fellow."

　　"He may have some right to it, "bitterly returned Don Benito; "he says he was king in his own land."

　　"Yes, "said the servant, entering a word, "those slits in Atufal's ears once held wedges of gold; but poor Babo here, in his own land,was only a poor slave;a black man's slave was Babo,who now is the white's."