“But,” said I, “will you not get yourself into trouble over this?”
“Over what? your release?” said he, laughing, “I think not. The old gentleman will rave somewhat at first, but when it comes to hanging me or nobody, he will hold his peace. He cannot afford to see a ward of his swing with his feet off the ground. Moreover, as soon as I can hear news from the north, I shall go to find my father. So, farewell, Humphrey. Expect me in London ere long, and forget not our oath.”
I gave him my hand in answer, and with a heavy heart started on my way.
I had not gone many paces when he came after me.
“Who and what sort of man is this Captain?” said he.
“He is the Devil,” said I. And I told him what had passed between us. He laughed loud when I spoke of the duck-pond—so loud that I feared we should be heard.
“Oh,” said he, when the tale was done, “that settles it.”
“Settles what?” I asked.
“I mean,” said he, “that I think I shall slay him.”
And with that we parted, he back to the house, I, dismally enough, to London.