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All being over at last, the standard of Spain removed, tumbled up, and tossed back into the flag-locker, the Negro's warm breath blowing away any stray hair which might have lodged down his master's neck; collar and cravat readjusted; a speck of lint whisked off the velvet lapel; all this being done;backing off a little space,and pausing with an expression of subdued self-complacency, the servant for a moment surveyed his master, as, in toilet at least, the creature of his own tasteful hands.
Captain Delano playfully complimented him upon his achievement; at the same time congratulating Don Benito.
But neither sweet waters,nor shampooing,nor fidelity,nor sociality, delighted the Spaniard. Seeing him relapsing into forbidding gloom,and still remaining seated, Captain Delano, thinking that his presence was undesired just then, withdrew, on pretence of seeing whether,as he had prophesied,any signs of a breeze were visible.
Walking forward to the mainmast, he stood awhile thinking over the scene, and not without some undefined misgivings,when he heard a noise near the cuddy, and turning, saw the Negro, his hand to his cheek. Advancing,Captain Delano perceived that the cheek was bleeding. He was about to ask the cause, when the Negro's wailing soliloquy enlightened him.
"Ah, when will master get better from his sickness; only the sour heart that sour sickness breeds made him serve Babo so; cutting Babo with the razor, because, only by accident, Babo had given master one little scratch;and for the first time in so many a day,too. Ah,ah,ah," holding his hand to his face.
Is it possible, thought Captain Delano; was it to wreak in private his Spanish spite against this poor friend of his, that Don Benito, by his sullen manner, impelled me to withdraw?Ah,this slavery breeds ugly passions in man!Poor fellow!
He was about to speak in sympathy to the Negro, but with a timid reluctance he now re-entered the cuddy.
Presently master and man came forth; Don Benito leaning on his servant as if nothing had happened.
But a sort of love-quarrel,after all,thought Captain Delano.
He accosted Don Benito, and they slowly walked together. They had gone but a few paces, when the steward-a tall, rajah-looking mulatto, orientally set off with a pagoda turban formed by three or four Madras handkerchiefs wound about his head, tier on tier-approaching with a salaam,announced lunch in the cabin.
On their way thither,the two captains were preceded by the mulatto, who, turning round as he advanced, with continual smiles and bows, ushered them in, a display of elegance which quite completed the insignificance of the small bare-headed Babo,who,as if not unconscious of inferiority, eyed askance the graceful steward. But in part,Captain Delano imputed his jealous watchfulness to that peculiar feeling which the full-blooded African entertains for the adulterated one. As for the steward,his manner,if not bespeaking much dignity of self-respect, yet evidenced his extreme desire to please;which is doubly meritorious, as at once Christian and Chesterfieldian.
Captain Delano observed with interest that while the complexion of the mulatto was hybrid,his physiognomy was European;classically so.
"Don Benito, "whispered he, "I am glad to see this usher-of-the- golden-rod of yours; the sight refutes an ugly remark once made to me by a Barbados planter that when a mulatto has a regular European face, look out for him;he is a devil. But see,your steward here has features more regular than King George's of England; and yet there he nods, and bows, and smiles; a king, indeed- the king of kind hearts and polite fellows. What a pleasant voice he has,too?"
"He has,Senor."
"But,tell me,has he not,so far as you have known him,always proved a good, worthy fellow? "said Captain Delano,pausing,while with a final genuflexion the steward disappeared into the cabin; "come, for the reason just mentioned,I am curious to know."
"Francesco is a good man, "rather sluggishly responded Don Benito, like a phlegmatic appreciator,who would neither find fault nor flatter.
"Ah, I thought so. For it were strange indeed, and not very creditable to us white-skins, if a little of our blood mixed with the African's, should,far from improving the latter's quality,have the sad effect of pouring vitriolic acid into black broth; improving the hue, perhaps,but not the wholesomeness."
"Doubtless,doubtless,Senor,but"- glancing at Babo-"not to speak of Negroes, your planter's remark I have heard applied to the Spanish and Indian intermixtures in our provinces. But I know nothing about the matter,"he listlessly added.
And here they entered the cabin.
baidu
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