"Sorry to have detained you," he said, flapping his hat on.

"Landlord says you've settled the shot--won't be long getting there now." In another minute they were in their seats and on the road to Tarrytown.
It was nearly eight o'clock when they reached the old ferry, and found it deserted for the night.

The boatmen had ceased their regular crossings nearly an hour before, and were quietly smoking their pipes at home.

The moon was up, stars shone brightly in the serene sky, and not a sail specked the unruffled surface of the Tappan Zee.

Lights twinkled on the opposite shore, and the little old town of Nyack was dimly seen.
They waited a few minutes, and as no one appeared, the driver went in search of the boatmen, saying a few extra shillings would make it all right with them.