Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, 2018a

BECOMING AMERICA
REVOLUTIONARY AND EARLY NATIONAL PERIOD LITERATURE
He went to see.
The San Dominick steered with a cumbrous tiller, with large horizontal pullies
attached. At each pully-end stood a subordinate black, and between them, at the
tiller-head, the responsible post, a Spanish seaman, whose countenance evinced
his due share in the general hopefulness and condence at the coming of the breeze.
He proved the same man who had behaved with so shame-faced an air on the
windlass.
“Ah,—it is you, my man,” exclaimed Captain Delano—”well, no more sheep’seyes
now;—look straight forward and keep the ship so. Good hand, I trust? And
want to get into the harbor, don’t you?”
The man assented with an inward chuckle, grasping the tiller-head rmly.
Upon this, unperceived by the American, the two blacks eyed the sailor intently.
Finding all right at the helm, the pilot went forward to the forecastle, to see
how matters stood there.
The ship now had way enough to breast the current. With the approach of
evening, the breeze would be sure to freshen.
Having done all that was needed for the present, Captain Delano, giving his
last orders to the sailors, turned aft to report aairs to Don Benito in the cabin;
perhaps additionally incited to rejoin him by the hope of snatching a moment’s
private chat while the servant was engaged upon deck.
From opposite sides, there were, beneath the poop, two approaches to the
cabin; one further forward than the other, and consequently communicating with a
longer passage. Marking the servant still above, Captain Delano, taking the nighest
entrance—the one last named, and at whose porch Atufal still stood—hurried on
his way, till, arrived at the cabin threshold, he paused an instant, a little to recover
from his eagerness. Then, with the words of his intended business upon his lips, he
entered. As he advanced toward the seated Spaniard, he heard another footstep,
keeping time with his. From the opposite door, a salver in hand, the servant was
likewise advancing.
“Confound the faithful fellow,” thought Captain Delano; “what a vexatious
coincidence.”
Possibly, the vexation might have been something dierent, were it not for the
brisk condence inspired by the breeze. But even as it was, he felt a slight twinge,
from a sudden indenite association in his mind of Babo with Atufal.
“Don Benito,” said he, “I give you joy; the breeze will hold, and will increase.
By the way, your tall man and time-piece, Atufal, stands without. By your order, of
course?”
Don Benito recoiled, as if at some bland satirical touch, delivered with such
adroit garnish of apparent good breeding as to present no handle for retort.
He is like one ayed alive, thought Captain Delano; where may one touch him
without causing a shrink?
The servant moved before his master, adjusting a cushion; recalled to civility,
the Spaniard stiy replied: “you are right. The slave appears where you saw him,
Page | 1384