This was true.
Brigands may look picturesque when seen from a distance.
At close quarters they are, to put it mildly, objectionable.
If they do not hold soap and water in absolute fear, as Dick Harvey said, they at least look upon them as vanities and effeminacies unworthy of desperadoes.
* * * * *
"So, so," muttered Hunston, as he walked away, "I shall secure them yet. For through the boys I can get at the father and at Harvey. Hah!"
At this precise moment a heavy hand was placed upon his shoulder.
There was a professional touch in it, which once felt could never be forgotten.
Hunston had felt such a clutch once in England, and the recollection was likely to last him as long as he lived.
He forgot where he was, every thing, and instinctively he faltered this inquiry—