{{|46|PETER RUGG,}}
him." "Do you know the man?" said Mr. Hardy. "No, nobody knows him, but everybody has seen him. Detain him as long as possible, delay the boat under any pretence, cut the gear of the horse——do anything to detain him." As I entered the ferry boat, I was struck at the spectacle before me. There indeed, sat Peter Rugg and Jenny Rugg in the chair, and there stood the black horse, all as quiet as lambs, surrounded by more than fifty men and women, who seemed to have lost all senses but one. Not a motion, not a breath, not a rustle. They were all eye. Rugg appeared to them as one not of this world; and they appeared to Rugg as a strange generation. No one spoke, nor was I disposed to disturb the calm, satisfied to reconnoitre Rugg in a state of rest. Presently Rugg observed in a low tone addressed to no one, "a new contrivance, horses instead of oars. Boston folks are full of notions."
It was plain that Rugg was of Dutch extraction. He had on three pair of small clothes, called in former days of simplicity, breeches, not much the worse for wear; but time had proved the fabric and shrunk each
