'The very same.'
'Why, I have gone there myself and heard him, attracted by his great repute. Yes, now that I come to reflect, this miscreant who went out this morning and the preacher to whom I listened with such rapt attention, are one and the same man.'
'I hope that you were made better by his discourse,' The Lifter said.
'And pray,' our hero inquired, 'what became of the poor minister, the real Mr. Jonas?'
'Oh they kept him confined for several months, and he wasted away past beleiveen. Nobody here took to him like. At last the new Mr. Jonas said to him one morneen:
'"Mr. Jonas that was, pray come down with me to the side of the lake that we may converse. I like best to contemplate the might of God through the agitasheen of the waters; and behold how the storm blows!"
'The poor, wasted Wesleyan went with him; but he never came back. An hour later the new Mr. Jonas returned; but he made no allusion to the real minister. We afterwards learnt that he had drowned him in the pond.'
'Great God, how horrible!'
'There now, you must not say anything against the habits and customs of the place. I will bid you good morneen.' Taking his rod and line the sleek desperado made his way up the stream; and our hero was left to horrible recollections. There was a noise among the parched leaves, and a moving of boughs. Then Nancy stood before him. She did not expect to find him here at the first turn, and she blushed deeply.
'I thought The Lifter was with you still. But I am glad that he has left you. We shall fish arid talk here. Has The Lifter told you anything about the history of the highwaymen?'