Very crestfallen and ashamed, I walked in his wake to a little shanty almost on the wateredge.

The place was some kind of inn, for a negro brought us two tankards of apple-jack, and tobacco pipes, and lit a foul-smelling lantern, which he set between us.
"First," says the man, "let me tell you that I never before clapped eyes on the long piece of rascality you were seeking.

He looked like one that had cheated the gallows." "He was a man I knew in Scotland," I said grumpily.
"Likely enough.

There's a heap of Scots redemptioners hereaways.

I'm out of Scotland myself, or my forbears were, but my father was settled in the Antrim Glens.