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Updated: June 29, 2025
McLeod gazed at the Indian for a moment in silent amazement. "I fear," continued Sharpeye, with a smile, "that I have to ask your forgiveness for having ventured really to practise deception on you." He removed a dark wig as he spoke, and revealed to the astonished gaze of the McLeods the light curly hair of Reginald Redding!
'You are not registered as a common Lodging House? 'No, sir. 'Ain't got no one here, Mr. Sharpeye, rejoin the woman and my good man together, 'but our own family. 'How many are you in family? The woman takes time to count, under pretence of coughing, and adds, as one scant of breath, 'Seven, sir.
Sharpeye opened several doors of traps that were set for Jack, but Jack did not happen to be in any of them. They were all such miserable places that really, Jack, if I were you, I would give them a wider berth. In every trap, somebody was sitting over a fire, waiting for Jack. 'Who have you got up-stairs here? says Sharpeye, generally. 'What do you mean by nobody?
A messenger he indeed proved to be, for after casting a furtive look, not unmingled with surprise and suspicion, at his brother redskin, he opened a small bag which hung at his girdle, and delivered to McLeod senior a very dirty-looking letter. "Ha! from Gambart," he exclaimed, reading the inscription. "Let us see what Hallo! Sharpeye, where are you off to?"
As I glance at him I become but I don't know why vaguely reminded of Woolwich, Chatham, Portsmouth, and Dover. When we get out, my respected fellow-constable Sharpeye, addressing Mr. Superintendent, says: 'You noticed that young man, sir, in at Darby's? 'Yes. What is he? 'Deserter, sir. Mr.
"We must christen you Sharpeye after this lucky shot," said Kenneth, when the excitement had subsided. "Now, Sharpeye," he added, taking his red friend by the arm, "you must stay and sup with us to-night. Come along, whether you understand me or not, I'll take no denial."
In default of Sharpeye being acquainted with the exact individuality of any gentleman encountered, one of these two is sure to proclaim from the outer air, like a gruff spectre, that Jackson is not Jackson, but knows himself to be Fogle; or that Canlon is Walker's brother, against whom there was not sufficient evidence; or that the man who says he never was at sea since he was a boy, came ashore from a voyage last Thursday, or sails tomorrow morning.
Didn't I hear a woman's step go up- stairs when my hand was on the latch? 'Ah! sure thin you're right, surr, I forgot her! 'Tis on'y Betsy White, surr. Ah! you know Betsy, surr. Come down, Betsy darlin', and say the gintlemin. Generally, Sharpeye turns to Mr. Superintendent, and says, as if the subjects of his remarks were wax-work: 'One of the worst, sir, this house is.
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