There's wild devils among them, and your friend looked as if he had given the slip to the hounds in the marshes.

There was little left of his breeches....

Drink, man, or you'll get fever from your wet duds." I drank, and the strong stuff mounted to my unaccustomed brain; my tongue was loosened, my ill-temper mellowed, and I found myself telling this grim fellow much that was in my heart.
"So you're a merchant," he said.

"It's not for me to call down an honest trade, but we could be doing with fewer merchants in these parts.

They're so many leeches that suck our blood.