Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. After the usual laconic greetings, he drew him on one side. ” There was never any shortage of bad men to eat, especially with pestilence and superstition to cover their tracks. ” She laughed. ” “He was probably right,” she declared. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again.
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