Even the surgeon opened his eyes at this. “Why, he is as weak as a child,” said he.
“Will it kill him?”
“Certainly not; and for the best of all reasons. He can't possibly do it.”
“You don't know what these fellows can do when they are forced.”
The surgeon shrugged his shoulders and passed on to his other patients. Robinson was taken out into the yard. “What a blessing the fresh air is!” said he, gulping in the atmosphere of the yard. “I should have got well long ago if I had not been stifled in my cell for want of room and air.”
Robinson went to the crank in good spirits; he did not know how weak he was till he began to work; but he soon found out he could not do the task in the time. He thought therefore the wisest plan would be not to exhaust himself in vain efforts, and he sat quietly down and did nothing. In this posture he was found by Hawes and his myrmidons.
“What are you doing there not working?”
“Sir, I am only just getting well of a fever, and I am as weak as water.”
“And that is why you are not trying to do anything, eh?”
“I have tried, sir, and it is impossible. I am not fit to turn this heavy crank.”