He was a sympathetic and an understanding man, and he swore warmly and plentifully when he heard how treacherously I had been treated, intimating it as the--just then--dearest wish of his heart to have the handling of the man who had played me the trick.
"But you'll be dealing with him yourself!" said he.

"Man!--you'll not spare him--promise me you'll not spare him! And you'll send me a newspaper with the full account of all that's done to him when you've set the law to work--dod! I hope they'll quarter him! Them was grand days when there was more licence and liberty in punishing malefactors--oh! I'd like fine to see this man put into boiling oil, or something of that sort, the cold-hearted, murdering villain! You'll be sure to send me the newspaper ?" I laughed--for the first time since--when?
It seemed years since I had laughed--and yet it was only a few hours, after all.
"Before I can set the law to work on him, I must get on dry land, captain," I answered.

"Where are you going ?" "Dundee," he replied.

"Dundee--and we're just between sixty and seventy miles away now, and it's near seven o'clock.

We'll be in Dundee early in the afternoon, anyway.