The String of Pearls (1850), p. 684

If you are afraid of the police-boat, we are not, and you ain't quite the sort of customer to suit us exactly, I should say."
"I have both their lives," thought Todd, as in the dark he felt for his pistols. "I have both their lives, and if they show any disposition to give me up, they shall not live another five minutes. I will shoot them both—cast their bodies into the river, and land myself at the first stairs I come to."
"Listen to me," he said, in a mild tone of voice. "It would only tire you, and, besides, it would take too long to tell why I have a fear of the police. But I have such a fear. I assure you, that I am quite innocent of what they accuse me. But until I can get from Hamburgh the only witness who can prove my innocence, I do not want to fall into the hands of my enemies. I implore you not to sacrifice me!"
"Humph!" said the old man, "What have you done?"
"Nothing—nothing! as Heaven is my witness!"
"But what do they say you have done?" said the young waterman.
"Ay!" said the other, "that's the question!"
"Why, they say that I was wrong in helping a poor lad, who certainly had done some wrong thing, to escape from the country; but then it would have broken his poor mother's heart if they had hanged him. It was for forgery only, and it was all owing to bad company he did it. Alas! I did not think it a crime to aid the poor boy to get away. What good would his death have done to any me?"
"Was that all?"
"Yes; that was all. But it appears in law, you see, a very serious offence to aid and abet, as they call it, a felon. Poor boy!—poor mother!"
"Oh, hang it, we won t give you up to the bloodhounds of the law for that," said the old man; "but, hark you, sir, it's out of the question that we two should be able to hold our way against the police- galley, with six young fresh rowers; so all we can do is to put you ashore somewhere, and then you can shift for yourself the best way you may. I don't see what else we can do for you."
"Nor I," said the young waterman ; " and in a few moments it will be best to do that. Is there a stairs close at hand?"
"Not one," said the old man. "It's a done thing. We can't land you, except in the water, if that can be called landing you at all. I don't know what to be at."
"Oh, save me!" said Tood.
"But how can we?"
"Yes," said the young waterman, "there's one way of managing that, I think, will do it, and do it well, too."
"Oh, how can I thank you?"
"Don't mention it. Suppose we put him on to the first craft we come along, side of in the river, that is moored, and has got no one on board? It won't be noticed, like our putting into a landing would, you know. They would be sure to say we had put some one on shore. But if we just ease the boat for a moment as we pass some craft, our fare can scramble on board, and we can go right on, and let the police overtake us, and overhaul us in due course. I'll be bound that by this light there's not a man on board of yonder craft can take upon himself to say whether there's one, two, or three people in our wherry."
"Yes," said the old man, "that will do if anything will, and if that don't do, nothing will."
"It will do," said Todd; "it will do. I thank you from my heart for the suggestion. It will do well. All you have to do is to let me board the craft in the river, upon the side furthest removed from the police boat. Oh! you will have the prayers of the widow and the fatherless, for this kind act."
"Never mind about that. Pull away."
"And—and when the police-boat is past, will you then come and take me off again?
"That's awkward," said the old man.