y of their contraband goods.
Conkey Jem--so was he called by his associates, on account of the
Slawkenbergian promontory which decorated his countenance--had been an
old hand at the same trade; but having returned from a seven years'
leave of absence from his own country, procured by his lawless life, now
managed matters with more circumspection and prudence, and had never
since been detected in his former illicit traffic; nor, though so
marvellously gifted in that particular himself, was he ever known to
_nose_ upon any of his accomplices; or, in other words, to betray them.
On the contrary, his hut was a sort of asylum for all fugitives from
justice; and although the sanctity of his walls would, in all
probability, have been little regarded, had any one been, detected
within them, yet, strange to say, even if a robber had been tracked--as
it often chanced--to Jem's immediate neighborhood, all traces of him
were sure to be lost at the ferryman's hut; and further search was
useless.

Within, the hut presented such an appearance as might be expected, from
its owner's pursuits and its own unpromising exterior. Consisting of
little more than a couple of rooms, the rude whitewashed walls
exhibited, in lieu of prints of more pretension, a gallery of
choicely-illustrated ballads, celebrating the exploits of various
highwaymen, renowned in song, amongst which our friend Dick Turpin
figured conspicuously upon his sable steed, Bess being represented by a
huge rampant black patch, and Dick, with a pistol considerably longer
than the arm that sustained it. Next to this curious collection was a
drum-net, a fishing-rod, a landing-net, an eel-spear, and other
piscatorial apparatus, with a couple of sculls and a boat-hook,
indicative of Jem's ferryman's office, suspended by various hooks; the
whole blackened and begrimed by peat-smoke, there being no legitimate
means of _exit_ permitted to the vapor generated by the turf-covered
hearthstone. The only window, indeed, in the hut, was to the front; the
back apartment, which served Jem for dormitory, had no aperture whatever
for the admission of light, except such as was afforded through the door
of communication between the rooms. A few broken rush-bottomed chairs,
with a couple of dirty tables, formed the sum total of the ferryman's
furniture.

Notwithstanding the grotesque effect of his exaggerated nasal organ,
Jem's aspect was at once savage and repulsive; his lank black hair hung