not fit for the labour."

Gardner broke into protestations of Pitt's health, youth, and vigour.
It was not a man he was discussing; it was a beast of burden. Pitt,
a sensitive lad, stood mute and unmoving. Only the ebb and flow of
colour in his cheeks showed the inward struggle by which he
maintained his self-control.

Peter Blood was nauseated by the loathsome haggle.

In the background, moving slowly away down the line of prisoners,
went the lady in conversation with the Governor, who smirked and
preened himself as he limped beside her. She was unconscious of the
loathly business the Colonel was transacting. Was she, wondered
Blood, indifferent to it?

Colonel Bishop swung on his heel to pass on.

"I'll go as far as twenty pounds. Not a penny more, and it's twice
as much as you are like to get from Crabston."

Captain Gardner, recognizing the finality of the tone, sighed and
yielded. Already Bishop was moving down the line. For Mr. Blood,
as for a weedy youth on his left, the Colonel had no more than a
glance of contempt. But the next man, a middle-aged Colossus named
Wolverstone, who had lost an eye at Sedgemoor, drew his regard, and
the haggling was recommenced.

Peter Blood stood there in the brilliant sunshine and inhaled the
fragrant air, which was unlike any air that he had ever breathed.