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 pretense 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 harbors, 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 corroborated not
only 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
r