Somewhat annoyed by these conversational familiarities, Captain Delano turned curiously upon the attendant,then glanced inquiringly at his master;but,as if long wonted to these little informalities,neither master nor man seemed to understand him.

　　"What,pray,was Atufal's offence,Don Benito?"asked Captain Delano;" if it was not something very serious, take a fool's advice,and,in view of his general docility, as well as in some natural respect for his spirit,remit his penalty."

　　"No, no, master never will do that, "here murmured the servant to himself, "proud Atufal must first ask master's pardon. The slave there carries the padlock,but master here carries the key."

　　His attention thus directed, Captain Delano now noticed for the first time that, suspended by a slender silken cord, from Don Benito's neck hung a key. At once, from the servant's muttered syllables divining the key's purpose, he smiled and said: "So,Don Benito-padlock and key- significant symbols,truly."

　　Biting his lip,Don Benito faltered.

　　Though the remark of Captain Delano, a man of such native simplicity as to be incapable of satire or irony, had been dropped in playful allusion to the Spaniard's singularly evidenced lordship over the black;yet the hypochondriac seemed in some way to have taken it as a malicious reflection upon his confessed inability thus far to break down, at least, on a verbal summons, the entrenched will of the slave. Deploring this supposed misconception,yet despairing of correcting it, Captain Delano shifted the subject;but finding his companion more than ever withdrawn, as if still slowly digesting the lees of the presumed affront above-mentioned, by-and-by Captain Delano likewise became less talkative, oppressed, against his own will, by what seemed the secret vindictiveness of the morbidly sensitive Spaniard. But the good sailor himself, of a quite contrary disposition, refrained, on his part,alike from the appearance as from the feeling of resentment, and if silent, was only so from contagion.

　　Presently the Spaniard, assisted by his servant, somewhat discourteously crossed over from Captain Delano; a procedure which, sensibly enough, might have been allowed to pass for idle caprice of ill-humour, had not master and man, lingering round the corner of the elevated skylight, begun whispering together in low voices. This was unpleasing. And more: the moody air of the Spaniard,which at times had not been without a sort of valetudinarian stateliness, now seemed anything but dignified; while the menial familiarity of the servant lost its original charm of simple-hearted attachment.

　　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."