It was laden with a strange perfume, blend of logwood flower,
pimento, and aromatic cedars. He lost himself in unprofitable
speculations born of that singular fragrance. He was in no mood for
conversation, nor was Pitt, who stood dumbly at his side, and who
was afflicted mainly at the moment by the thought that he was at
last about to be separated from this man with whom he had stood
shoulder to shoulder throughout all these troublous months, and
whom he had come to love and depend upon for guidance and sustenance.
A sense of loneliness and misery pervaded him by contrast with which
all that he had endured seemed as nothing. To Pitt, this separation
was the poignant climax of all his sufferings.

Other buyers came and stared at them, and passed on. Blood did not
heed them. And then at the end of the line there was a movement.
Gardner was speaking in a loud voice, making an announcement to the
general public of buyers that had waited until Colonel Bishop had
taken his choice of that human merchandise. As he finished, Blood,
looking in his direction, noticed that the girl was speaking to
Bishop, and pointing up the line with a silver-hilted riding-whip
she carried. Bishop shaded his eyes with his hand to look in the
direction in which she was pointing. Then slowly, with his
ponderous, rolling gait, he approached again accompanied by Gardner,
and followed by the lady and the Governor.

On they came until the Colonel was abreast of Blood. He would have
passed on, but that the lady tapped his arm with her whip.

"But this is the man I meant," she said.

"This one?" Contempt rang in the voice. Peter Blood found himself