“And whether a man comes to that death by another man or by a ghost,
it’s just the same thing to him?”
“Certainly,” said I, very inconsiderately giving in to him.
“Then,” said Kit Julian, triumphantly, “how the devil can a man be stout
as to a man, and afraid of a ghost? If I knew any such shy cocks, they
never should get into the revenue. The devil a smuggler ever they’d
face; and then heigh for the potsheen, and contrabands! If a man’s not
afraid for his own carcass, he’d never dread another man’s winding
sheet!”
“That’s true,” said my father, and the laugh was turned completely
against me.