“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. But perhaps he was right not to tell you the truth. Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. He started toward the dog with the idea of ejecting him, but Ruth intervened.
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