Chapter 26. Containing A Variety Of Matters

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_ CHAPTER XXVI. Containing a Variety of Matters

Our readers cannot have forgotten the angry dialogue which Kate Hogan and her male relations indulged in upon the misunderstanding that had occurred between the Cavanaghs and M'Mahons, and its imputed cause. We stated at the time that Hycy Burke and the Hogans, together with a strange man and woman, were embarked in some mysterious proceedings from which both Kate Hogan and Teddy Phats had been excluded. For some time, both before and after that night, there had been, on the other hand, a good, deal of mysterious communication between several of our other characters. For instance Kate Hogan and Nanny Peety had had frequent interviews, to which, in the course of time, old Peety, Teddy Phats, and, after him, our friend the schoolmaster had been admitted. Nanny Peety had also called on Father Magowan, and, after him, upon young Clinton; and it was evident, from the result of her disclosures to the two latter, that they also took a warm interest, and were admitted to a participation in, the councils we mention. To these proceedings Clinton had not been long privy when he began to communicate with Vanston, who, on his part, extended the mystery to Chevydale, between whom and himself several confidential interviews had already taken place. Having thrown out these hints to our readers, we beg them to accompany us once more to the parlor of Clinton the gauger and his nephew.

"So, uncle, now that you have been promoted to the Supervisorship, you abandon the farm; you abandon Ahadarra?"

"Why, won't I be out of the district, you blockhead? and you persist in refusing it besides."

"Most positively; but I always suspected that Fethertonge was a scoundrel, as his conduct in that very business with you was a proo--hem, ahem."

"Go on," said the uncle, coolly, "don't be ashamed, Harry; I was nearly as great a scoundrel in that business as he was. I told you before that I look upon the world as one great pigeon, which every man who can, without exposing, himself, is obliged to pluck. Now, in the matter of the farm, I only was about to pluck out a feather or two to put in my own nest--or yours, if you had stood it."

"At any rate, uncle, I must admit that you are exceedingly candid."

"No such thing, you fool; there is scarcely an atom of candor in my whole composition--I mean to the world, whatever I may be to you. Candor, Harry, my boy, is a virtue which very few in this life, as it goes, can afford to practice--at least I never could."

"Well but, uncle, is it not a pity to see that honest family ruined and driven out of the country by the villany of Burke on the one hand, and the deliberate fraud and corruption of Fethertonge, on the other. However, now that you are resolved to unmask Fethertonge, I am satisfied. It's a proof that you don't wish to see an honest family oppressed and turned, without reasonable compensation, out of their property."

"It's a proof of no such thing, I tell you. I don't care the devil had the M'Mahons; but I am bound to this ninnyhammer of a landlord, who has got me promoted, and who promises, besides, to get an appointment for you. I cannot see him, I say, fleeced and plucked by this knavish agent, who winds him about his finger like a thread; and, as to those poor honest devils of M'Mahons, stop just a moment and I will show you a document that may be of some value to them. You see, Fethertonge, in order to enhance the value of his generosity to myself, or, to come nearer the truth, the value of Ahadarra, was the means of placing a document, which I will immediately show you, in my hands."

He went to his office or study, and, after some search, returned and handed the other a written promise of the leases of Ahadarra and Carriglass, respectively, to Thomas M'Mahon and his son Bryan, at a certain reasonable rent offered by each for their separate holdings.

"Now," he proceeded, "there's a document which proves Fethertonge, notwithstanding his knavery, to be an ass; otherwise he would have reduced it to ashes long ago; and, perhaps, after having turned it to his account, he would have done so, were it not that I secured it. Old Chevydale, it appears, not satisfied with giving his bare word, strove, the day before he died, to reduce his promise about the lease to writing, which he did, and entrusted it to the agent for the M'Mahons, to whom, of course, it was never given."

"But what claim had you to it, uncle?"

"Simply, if he and I should ever come to a misunderstanding, that I might let him know he was in my power, by exposing his straightforward methods of business; that's all. However, about the web that this fellow Burke has thrown around these unfortunate devils the M'Mahons, and those other mighty matters that you told of, let me hear exactly what it is all about and how they stand. You say there is likely to be hanging or transportation among them."

"Why, the circumstances, sir, are these, as nearly as I am in possession of them:--There is or was, at least a day or two ago, a very pretty girl--"

"Ay, ay--no fear but there must be that in it; go along."

"A very pretty girl, named Nanny Peety, a servant in old Jemmy Burke's, Hycy's father. It appears that his virtuous son Hycy tried all the various stratagems of which he is master to debauch the morals of this girl, but without success. Her virtue was incorruptible."

"Ahem! get along, will you, and pass that over."

"Well, I know that's another of your crotchets, uncle; but no matter, I should be sorry, from respect to my mother's memory, to agree with you there: however to proceed; this Nanny Peety at length--that is about a week ago--was obliged to disclose to her father the endless persecution which she had to endure at the hands of Hycy Burke; and in addition to that disclosure, came another, to the effect that she had been for a considerable period aware of a robbery which took place in old Burke's--you may remember the stir it made--and which robbery was perpetrated by Bat Hogan, one of these infamous tinkers that live in Gerald Cavanagh's kiln, and under the protection of his family. The girl's father--who, by the way, is no other than the little black visaged mendicant who goes about the country--"

"I know him--proceed."

"Her father, I say, on hearing these circumstances, naturally indignant at Hycy Burke for his attempts to corrupt the principles of his daughter, brought the latter with him to Father Magowan, in whose presence she stated all she knew; adding, that she had secured Bat Hogan's hat and shoes, which, in his hurry, he had forgotten on the night of the robbery. She also requested the priest to call upon me, 'as she felt certain,' she said, 'in consequence of a letter of Burke's which I happened to see as she carried it to the post-office, that I could throw some light upon his villany. He did so.' It was on that affair the priest called here the other day, and I very candidly disclosed to him the history of that letter, and its effect in causing the seizure of the distillery apparatus--the fact being that everything was got up by Hycy himself--I mean at his cost, with a view to ruin M'Mahon. And this I did the more readily, as the scoundrel has gone far to involve me in the conduct imputed to M'Mahon, as his secret abbettor and enemy."

"Well," observed his uncle, "all that's a very pretty affair as it stands; but what are you to do next?"

"There is worse behind, I can assure you," continued his nephew. "Hycy Burke, who is proverbially extravagant, having at last, in an indirect way, ruined young M'Mahon, from the double motive of ill-will and a wish to raise money by running illicit spirits--"

"The d--d scoundrel!" exclaimed the gauger, seized with a virtuous fit of (professional) indignation, "that fellow would scruple at nothing--proceed."

"By the way," observed the other, rather maliciously, "he made a complete tool of you in M'Mahon's affair."

"He did, the scoundrel," replied his uncle, wincing a good deal; "but, as the matter was likely to turn up, he was only working out my purposes."

"He is in a bad mess now, however," continued his nephew.

"Why, is there worse to come?"

"This same Nanny Peety, you must know, is a relative, it seems, to Bat Hogan's wife. For some time past there has come a strange man named Vincent, and his wife, to reside in the neighborhood, and this fellow in conjunction with the Hogans, was managing some secret proceedings which no one can penetrate. Now, it appears that Hogan's wife, who has been kept out of this secret, got Nanny Peety to set her father to work in order to discover it. Peety, by the advice of Hogan's wife, called in Teddy Phat's--"

"What's that? Teddy Phats? Now, by the way, Harry, don't abuse poor Teddy. You will be surprised, Hal, when I tell you that he and I have played into each other's hands for years. Yes, my boy, and I can assure you that, owing to him, both Fethertonge and I were aware of Hycy's Burke's plot against M'Mahon long before he set it a-going. The fellow, however, will certainly be hanged yet."

"Faith, sir," replied Harry, "instead of being hanged himself, he's likely to hang others. In consequence of an accidental conversation which Teddy Phats, and Finigan the tippling schoolmaster had, concerning Vincent, the stranger I spoke of, who, it appears, lives next to Finigan's school-house, Teddy discovered, through the pedagogue, who, by the way, is abroad at all hours, that the aforesaid Vincent was in the habit of going up every night to the most solitary part of the mountains, but for what purpose, except upon another distillation affair, he could not say."

The old gauger or supervisor, as he now considered himself, became here so comically excited--or, we should rather say, so seriously excited--that it was with difficulty the nephew could restrain his laughter. He moved as if his veins had been filled with quicksilver, his eyes brightened, and his naturally keen and knavish-looking features were sharpened, as it were, into an expression so acutely sinister, that he resembled a staunch old hound who comes unexpectedly upon the fresh slot of a hare.

"Well," said he, rubbing his hands--"well, go on--what happened? Do you hear, Harry? What happened? Of course they're at the distillation again. Don't you hear me, I say? What was the upshot?"

"Why, the upshot was," replied the other, "that nothing of sufficient importance has been discovered yet; but we have reason to suppose that they're engaged in the process of forgery or coining, as they were in that of illicit distillation under the patronage of the virtuous Hycy Burke, or Hycy the accomplished, as he calls himself."

"Tut, tut!" exclaimed Clinton, disappointed--"so after all, there has been nothing done?"

"Oh, yes, there has been something done; for instance, all these matters have been laid before Mr. Vanston, and he has had two or three interviews with Chevydale, in whose estimation he has exonerated young M'Mahon from the charge of bribery and ingratitude. Fethertonge holds such a position now with his employer that an infant's breath would almost blow him out of his good opinion."

"I'll tell you what, Harry, I think you have it in your power among you to punish these rogues; and I think, too, it's a pity that Fethertonge should escape. A breath will dislodge him, you say; but for fear it should not, we will give him a breeze."

"I am to meet Vanston at Chevydale's by-and-by, uncle. There's to be an investigation there; and by the way, allow me to bring Hycy's anonymous letter with me--it may serve an honest man and help to punish a rogue. What if you would come down with me, and give him the breeze?"

"Well," replied the uncle, "for the novelty of the thing I don't care if I do. I like, after all, to see a rogue punished, especially when he is not prepared for it."

After a little delay they repaired to Chevydale's house, armed with Hycy's anonymous letter to Clinton, as well as with the document which the old squire, as he was called, had left for Thomas M'Mahon and his son. They found the two gentlemen on much better terms than one would have expected; but, in reality, the state of the country was such as forced them to open their eyes not merely to the folly of harboring mere political resentments or senseless party prejudices against each other, but to the absolute necessity that existed for looking closely into the state of their property, and the deplorable condition to which, if they did not take judicious and decisive steps, it must eventually be reduced. They now began to discover a fact which they ought, long since, to have known--viz.:--that the condition of the people and that of their property was one and the same--perfectly identical in all things; and that a poor tenantry never yet existed upon a thriving or independent estate, or one that was beneficial to the landlord.

Vanston had been with his late opponent for some time before the arrival of Clinton and his nephew; and, as their conversation may not, perhaps, be without some interest to our readers, we shall detail a portion of it.

"So," says Vanston, "you are beginning to feel that there is something wrong on your property, and that your agent is not doing you justice?"

"I have reason to suspect," replied Chevydale, "that he is neither more nor less than feathering his own nest at the expense of myself and my tenantry. I cannot understand why he is so anxious to get the M'Mahons off the estate; a family unquestionably of great honesty, truth, and integrity, and who, I believe, have been on the property before it came into our possession at all. I feel--excuse me, Vanston, for the admission, but upon my honor it is truth--I feel, I say, that, in the matter of the election--that is, so far as M'Mahon was concerned, he--my agent--made a cat's paw of me. He prevented me from supporting young M'Mahon's memorial; he--he--prejudiced me against the family in several ways, and now, that I am acquainted with the circumstances of strong and just indignation against me under which M'Mahon voted, I can't at all blame him. I would have done the same thing myself."

"There is d----d villany somewhere at work," replied Vanston. "They talk of a fifty-pound note that I am said to have sent to him by post. Now, I pledge my honor as an honest man and a gentleman, that I have sifted and examined all my agents, and am satisfied that he never received a penny from me. Young Burke did certainly promise to secure me his vote; but I have discovered Burke to be a most unprincipled profligate, corrupt and dishonest. For, you may think it strange that, although he engaged to procure me M'Mahon's vote, M'Mahon himself, whom I believe, assured me that he never even asked him for it, until after he had overheard, in the head inn, a conversation concerning himself that filled him with bitter resentment against you and your agent."

"I remember it," replied Chevydale, "and; yet my agents told me that Burke did everything in his power to prevent M'Mahon from voting for you."

"That," replied the other, "was to preserve his own character from the charge of inconsistency; for, I again assure you that he had promised us M'Mahon's vote, and that he urged him privately to vote against you. But d--n the scoundrel, he is not worth the conversation we had about him. Father Magowan, in consequence of whose note to me I wrote to ask you here, states in the communication I had from him, that the parties will be here about twelve o'clock--Burke himself, he thinks, and M'Mahon along with the rest. The priest wishes to have these Hogans driven out of the parish--a wish in which I most cordially join him. I hope we shall soon rid the country of him and his villanous associates. Talking of the country, what is to be done?"

"Simply," replied Chevydale, "that we, the landed proprietors of Ireland, should awake out of our slumbers, and forgetting those vile causes of division and subdivision that have hitherto not only disunited us, but set us together by the ears, we should take counsel among ourselves, and after due and serious deliberation, come to the determination that it is our duty to prevent Irish interests from being made subservient to English interests, and from being legislated for upon English principles."

"I hope, Chevydale, you are not about to become a Repealer."

"No, sir; I am, and ever have been sickened by that great imposture. Another half century would scarcely make us fit for home legislation. When we look at the conduct of our Irish members in the British Parliament--I allude now, with few exceptions, to the Repeal members--what hope can we entertain of honesty and love of country from such men? When we look, too, at many of our Corporations and strike an average of their honesty and intellect, have we not a right to thank God that the interests of our country are not confided to the management of such an arrogant, corrupt, and vulgar crew as in general compose them. The truth is, Vanston, we must become national in our own defense, and whilst we repudiate, with a firm conviction of the folly on the one hand, and the dishonesty on the other, of those who talk about Repeal, we shall find it our best policy to forget the interests of any particular class, and suffer ourselves to melt down into one great principle of national love and good-will toward each other. Let us only become unanimous, and England will respect us as she did when we were unanimous upon other occasions."

"I feel, and am perfectly sensible of the truth of what you say," replied Vanston, "and I am certain that, in mere self-defence, we must identify ourselves with the people whose interests most unquestionably are ours."

"As to myself," continued Chevydale, "I fear I have much to repair in my conduct as an Irish landlord. I have been too confiding and easy--in fact, I have not thought for myself; but been merely good or evil, according to the caprice of the man who managed me, and whom, up until now, I did not suspect."

"The man, my good friend, is probably not worse in general than others," replied Vanston; "but the truth is, that there has been such a laxity of management in Irish property--such indifference and neglect upon our part, and such gross ignorance of our duties, that agents were, and in most cases are, at liberty to act as they please in our names, and under show of our authority; you can scarcely suppose this man, consequently, much worse than others who are placed in similar circumstances."

The dialogue was here interrupted by the entrance of old Clinton and his nephew; but, as our readers are already in possession of the proofs they brought against Hycy Burke and Fethertonge, it is not necessary that we should detail there conversation at full length.

"I must confess," said Clinton, "that I would have some reason to feel ashamed of my part in the transactions with respect to Ahadarra, were it not, in the first place, that I have never been much afflicted with the commodity; and, in the next, that these transactions are too common to excite any feeling one way or the other."

"But you must have known, Clinton," said Chevydale, "that it was a most iniquitous thing in you to enter into a corrupt bargain with a dishonest agent for the property which you knew to belong to another man."

"What other man, Mr. Chevydale? Had not M'Mahon's lease expired?"

"But had you not in your own possession my father's written promise--written, too, on his death-bed--to these honest men, that they should have their leases renewed?"

"Yes, but that was your agent's affair, and his dishonesty, too, not mine."

"As much yours as his; and, by the way, I don't see upon what principle you, who are equally involved with him in the profligacy of the transaction, should come to bear testimony against him now. They say there is honor among thieves, but I see very little of it here."

"Faith, to tell you the truth," replied Clinton, "as I said to Harry here, because I like to see a rogue punished, especially when he is not prepared for it."

"Well," said Chevydale, with a very solemn ironical smile, "I am myself very much of your way of thinking; and, as a proof of it, I beg to say that, as your appointment to the office of Supervisor has not yet been made out, I shall write to my brother, the Commissioner, to take care that it never shall. To procure the promotion of a man who can deliberately avow his participation in such shameless profligacy would be to identify myself with it. You have been doubly treacherous, Mr. Clinton; first to me, whom you know to be your friend, and, in the next place, to the unfortunate partner in your villany, and at my expense; for d----d if I can call it less. What noise is that?"

Clinton the elder here withdrew, and had scarcely disappeared when two voices were heard in the hall, in a kind of clamorous remonstrance with each other, which voices were those of Father Magowan and our friend O'Finigan, as we must now call him, inasmuch as he is, although early in the day, expanded with that hereditary sense of dignity which will not allow the great O to be suppressed.

"Behave, and keep quiet, now," said his Reverence, "you unfortunate pedagogue you; I tell you that you are inebriated."

"Pardon me, your Reverence," replied O'Finigan; "non ebrius sed vino gravatus, devil a thing more."

"Get out, you profligate," replied the priest, "don't you know that either, at this time o' day, is too bad?"

"Nego, dominie--nego, Dominie revendre--denial is my principle, I say. Do you assert that there's no difference between ebrius and gravatus vino?"

"In your case, you reprobate, I do. Where would you get the vino? However," he proceeded, "as you are seldom sober, and as I know it is possible you may have something of importance to say on a particular subject, I suppose you may as well say it now as any other time, and it's likely we may get more truth out of you."

"Ay," said the schoolmaster, "upon the principle that in vino veritas; but you know that gravatus vino and ebrius are two different things--gravatus vino, the juice o' the grape--och, och, as every one knows, could and stupid; but ebrius from blessed poteen, that warms and gives ecstatic nutrition to the heart."

The altercation proceeded for a little, but, after a short remonstrance and bustle, the priest, followed by O'Finigan, entered the room.

"Gentlemen," said the priest, "I trust you will excuse me for the society in which I happen to appear before you; but the truth is that this Finigan--"

"Pardon me, your Reverence, O'Finigan if you plaise; we have been shorn of--"

"Well, then, since he will have it so, this O'Finigan is really inebriated, and I cannot exactly say why, in this state, his presence can be of any advantage to us."

"He says," replied the master, "that I am ebrius, whereas I replied that I was only vino gravatus, by which I only meant quasi vino gravatus; but the truth is, gentlemen, that I'm never properly sober until I'm half seas over--for it is then that I have all my wits properly about me."

"In fact, gentleman," proceeded the priest, "in consequence of certain disclosures that have reached me with reference to these Hogans, I deemed it my duty to bring Nanny Peety before Mr. Chevydale here. She is accompanied by Kate Hogan, the wife of one of these ruffians, who refuses to be separated from her--and insists, consequently, on coming along with her. I don't exactly know what her motive may be in this; but I am certain she has a motive. It is a gratification to me, however, to find, gentlemen, that you both happen to be present upon this occasion. I sent word to Hycy Burke and to Bryan M'Mahon; for I thought it only fair that Hycy should be present, in order to clear himself in case any charge may be brought against him. I expect M'Mahon, too."

"Let us remove, then, to my office," said, Chevydale--"it is now a few minutes past twelve, and I dare say they will soon be here."

They accordingly did so; and, as he had said, the parties almost immediately made their appearance.

"Now, gentlemen," said Father Magowan, "I am of opinion that the best way is for this girl to state what she knows concerning these Hogans; but I think I can now persave the raison why Kate Hogan has made it a point to come with her. It is quite evident from her manner that she wishes to intimidate this girl, and to prevent her from stating fully and truly what she knows."

"No," replied Kate, "it is no such thing--she must either state the whole truth or nothing; that's what I want, an' what she must do--put the saddle on the right horse, Nanny--since you will spake."

"It is a good proverbial illustration," observed Finigan, "but I will improve it--put the saddle of infamy, I say, upon the right horse, Nanny. You see, gintlemen," he added, turning to the magistrates, "my improvement elevates the metaphor--proceed, girsha."

"Gentlemen," said Hycy, "I received a note from Father Magowan informing me that it was probable certain charges might be brought against me--or at least some complaints made," he added, softening the expression--"and I should be glad to know what they are all about, before this girl commences formally to state them; I say so in order that I may not be taken by surprise."

"You know," replied the priest, "that you cannot be taken by surprise; because I myself told you the substance of the strong suspicions that are against you."

Bryan M'Mahon now entered, and was cordially greeted by Vanston--and we may add rather kindly, in manner at least, by Chevydale.

"By the way," asked the former of these gentlemen, "does this investigation bear in any way upon your interests, M'Mahon?"

"Not, sir, so far as I am aware of--I come here because Father Magowan wished me to come. I have no interests connected with this country now," he added in a tone of deep melancholy, "there's an end to that for ever."

"Now, my good girl," said Chevydale, "you will state all you know connected with these Hogans fully and truly--that is, neither more nor less than the truth."

"All the truth, Nanny," said Kate Hogan, in a voice of strongly condensed power; "Hycy Burke," she proceeded, "you ruined Bryan M'Mahon here--and, by ruinin' him, you broke Miss Kathleen Cavanagh's heart--she's gone--no docthor could save her now; and for this you'll soon know what Kate Hogan can do. Go on, Nanny."

"Well, gintlemon," Nanny began, "in the first place it was Mr. Hycy here that got the Still up in Ahadarra, in ordher to beggar Bryan M'Mahon by the fine."

Hycy laughed. "Excellent!" said he; "Why, really, Mr. Chevydale, I did not imagine that you could suffer such a farce as this is likely to turn out to be enacted exactly in your office."

"Enacted! well, that's, appropriate at any rate," said the schoolmaster; "but in the mane time, Mr. Hycy, take care that the farce won't become a tragedy on your hands, and you yourself the hero of it. Proceed, girsha."

"How do you know," asked Chevydale, "that this charge is true?"

"If I don't know it," she replied, "my aunt here does,--and I think so does Mr. Harry Clinton an' others."

"Pray, my woman, what do you know about this matter?" asked Chevydale, addressing Kate.

"Why that it was Mr. Hycy Burke that gave the Hogans the money to make the Still, set it up--and to Teddy Phats to buy barley; and although he didn't tell them it was to ruin Bryan M'Mahon he did it, sure they all knew it was--'spishly when he made them change from Glendearg above, where they were far safer, down to Ahadarra."

"I assure you, gentlemen," said Hycy, "that the respectability of the witnesses you have fished up is highly creditable to your judgments and sense of justice;--a common vagabond and notorious thief on the one hand, and a beggarman's brat on the other. However, proceed--I perceive that I shall be obliged to sink under the force of such testimony--ha! ha! ha!"

At this moment old Jemmy Burke, having accidentally heard that morning that such an investigation was to take place, and likely to bear upon the conduct of his eldest son, resolved to be present at it, and he accordingly presented himself as Hycy had concluded his observations.

The high integrity of his character was at once recognized--he was addressed in terms exceedingly respectful, if not deferential, by the two magistrates--Chevydale having at once ordered the servant in attendance to hand him a chair. He thanked him, however, but declined it gratefully, and stood like the rest.

In the meantime the investigation proceeded. "Mr. Burke," said Chevydale, addressing himself to the old man, whose features, by the way, were full of sorrow and distress--"it may be as well to state to you that we are not sitting now formally in our magisterial capacity, to investigate any charges that may be brought against your son, but simply making some preliminary inquiries with respect to other charges, which we have been given to understand are about to be brought against the notorious Hogans."

"Don't lay the blame upon the Hogans," replied Kate, fiercely--"the Hogans, bad as people say they are, only acted under Hycy Burke. It was Hycy Burke."

"But," said Chevydale, probably out of compassion for the old man, "you must know we are not now investigating Mr. Burke's conduct."

"Proceed, gintlemen," said his father, firmly but sorrowfully; "I have heard it said too often that he was at the bottom of the plot that ruined Bryan M'Mahon, or that wint near to ruin him; I wish to have that well sifted, gintlemen, and to know the truth."

"I can swear," continued Kate, "that it was him got up the whole plan, and gave them the money for it. I seen him in our house--or, to come nearer the truth, in Gerald Cavanagh's kiln, where we live--givin' them the money."

"As you are upon that subject, gentlemen," observed Harry Clinton, "I think it due to the character of Bryan M'Mahon to state that I am in a capacity to prove that Hycy Burke was unquestionably at the bottom--or, in point of fact, the originator--of his calamities with reference to the act of illicit distillation, and the fine which he would have been called on to pay, were it not that the Commissioners of Excise remitted it."

"Thank you, Mr. Clinton," replied Hycy; "I find I am not mistaken in you--I think you are worthy of your accomplices"--and he pointed to Kate and Nanny as he spoke--"proceed."

"We are passing," observed Vanston, "from one to another rather irregularly, I fear; don't you think we had better hear this girl fully in the first place; but, my good girl," he added, "you are to understand that we are not here to investigate any charges against Mr. Hycy Burke, but against the Hogans. You will please then to confine your charges to them."

"But," replied Nanny, "that's what I can't do, plase your honor, widout bringin' in Hycy Burke too, bekaise himself an' the Hogans was joined in everything."

"I think, gintlemen," said the priest, "the best plan is to let her tell her story in her own way."

"Perhaps so," said Chevydale; "proceed, young woman, and state fully and truly whatever you have got to say."

"Well, then," she proceeded, "there's one thing I know--I know who robbed Mr. Burke here;" and she pointed to the old man, who started.

The magistrates also looked surprised. "How," said Vanston, turning his eyes keenly upon her, "you know of the robbery; and pray, how long have you known it?'"

"Ever since the night it was committed, plaise your honor."

"What a probable story!" exclaimed Hycy; "and you kept it to yourself, like an honest girl as you are, until now!"

"Why, Mr. Burke," said Vanston, quickly and rather sharply, "surely you can have no motive in impugning her evidence upon that subject?"

Hycy bit his lip, for he instantly felt that he had overshot himself by almost anticipating the charge, as if it were about to be made against himself;--"What I think improbable in it," said Hycy, "is that she should, if in possession of the facts, keep them concealed so long."

"Oh, never fear, Mr. Hycy, I'll soon make that plain enough," she replied.

"But in the mean time," said Chevydale, "will you state the names of those who did commit the robbery?"

"I will," she replied.

"The whole truth, Nanny," exclaimed Kate.

"It was Bat Hogan, then, that robbed Mr. Burke," she replied; "and--and--"

"Out wid it," said Kate.

"And who besides, my good girl?" inquired Vanston.

The young woman looked round with compassion upon Jemmy Burke, and the tears started to her eyes. "I pity him!" she exclaimed, "I pity him--that good old man;" and, as she uttered the words, she wept aloud.

"This, I fear, is getting rather a serious affair," said Vanston, in a low voice to Chevydale--"I see how the tide is likely to turn."

Chevydale merely nodded, as if he also comprehended it. "You were about to add some other name?" said he; "in the mean time compose yourself and proceed."

Hycy Burke's face at this moment had become white as a sheet; in fact, to any one of common penetration, guilt and a dread of the coming disclosure were legible in every lineament of it.

"Who was the other person you were about to mention?" asked Vanston.

"His own son, sir, Mr. Hycy Burke, there."

"Ha!" exclaimed Chevydale; "Mr. Hycy Burke, do you say? Mr. Burke," he added, addressing that gentleman, "how is this? Here is a grave and serious charge against you. What have you to say to it?"

"That it would be both grave and serious," replied Hycy, "if it possessed but one simple element, without which all evidence is valueless--I mean truth. All I can say is, that she might just as well name either of yourselves, gentlemen, as me."

"How do you know that Hogan committed the robbery?" asked Hycy.

"Simply bekaise I seen him. He broke open the big chest above stairs."

"How did you see him?" asked Vanston.

"Through a hole in the partition," she replied, "where a knot of the deal boards had come out. I slep', plaise your honor, in a little closet off o' the room the money was in."

"Is it true that she slept there, Mr. Burke?" asked Vanston of the old man.

"It is thrue, sir, God help me; that at all events is thrue."

"Well, proceed," said Chevydale.

"I then throw my gown about my shoulders; but in risin' from my bed it creaked a little, an' Bat Hogan, who had jest let down the lid of the chest aisily when he hard the noise, blew out the bit of candle that he had in his hand, and picked his way down stairs as aisily as he could. I folloyed him on my tippy-toes, an' when he came opposite the door of the room where the masther and misthress sleep, the door opened, an' the mistress wid a candle in her hand met him full--but in the teeth. I was above upon the stairs at the time, but from the way an' the place she stood in, the light didn't rache me, so that I could see them widout bein' seen myself. Well, when the mistress met him she was goin' to bawl out wid terror, an' would, too, only that Masther Hycy flew to her, put his hand on her mouth, an' whispered something in her ear. He then went over to Bat, and got a large shafe of bank-notes from him, an' motioned him to be off wid himself, an' that he'd see him to-morrow. Bat went down in the dark, an' Hycy an' his mother had some conversation in a low voice on the lobby. She seemed angry, an' he was speakin' soft an' strivin' to put her into good humor again. I then dipt back to bed, but the never a wink could I get till mornin'; an' when I went down, the first thing I saw was Bat Hogan's shoes. It was hardly light at the time; but at any rate I hid them where they couldn't be got, an' it was well I did, for the first thing I saw was Bat himself peering about the street and yard, like a man that was looking for something that he had lost."

"But how did you know that the shoes were Hogan's?" asked Vanston.

"Why, your honor, any one that ever seen the man might know that. One of his heels is a trifle shorter than the other, which makes him halt a little, an' he has a bunion as big as an egg on the other foot."

"Ay, Nanny," said Kate, "that's the truth; but I can tell you more, gentlemen. On the evenin' before, when Mr. Hycy came home, he made up the plan to rob his father wid Phil Hogan; but Phil got drunk that night an' Bat had to go in his place. Mr. Hycy promised to see the Hogans that mornin' at his father's, about ten o'clock; but when they went he had gone off to Ballymacan; an' as they expected him every minute, they stayed about the place in spite o' the family, an' mended everything they could lay their hands on. Bat an' Mr. Hycy met that night in Teddy Phat's still-house, in Glendearg, an' went home together across the mountains aftherward."

"Well, Mr. Burke, what have you to say to this?" asked Chevydale.

"Why," replied Hycy, "that it's a very respectable conspiracy as it stands, supported by the thief and vagabond, and the beggar's brat."

"Was there any investigation at the time of its occurrence?" asked Vanston.

"There was, your honor," replied Nanny; "it was proved, clearly enough that Phil and Ned Hogan were both dead drunk that night an' couldn't commit a robbery; an' Masther Hycy himself said that he knew how Bat spent the night, an' that of course he couldn't do it; an' you know, your honors, there was no gettin' over that. I have, or rather my father has, Bat Hogan's shoes still."

"This, I repeat, seems a very serious charge, Mr. Burke," said Chevydale again.

"Which, as I said before, contains not one particle of truth," replied Hycy. "If I had resolved to break open my father's chest to get cash out of it, it is not likely that I would call in the aid of such a man as Bat Hogan. As a proof that I had nothing to do with the robbery in question, I can satisfy you that my mother, not many days after the occurrence of it, was obliged to get her car and drive some three or four miles' distance to borrow a hundred pounds for me from a friend of hers, upon her own responsibility, which, had I committed the outrage in question, I would not have required at all."

Old Burke's face would, at this period of the proceedings, have extorted compassion from any heart. Sorrow, distress, agony of spirit, and shame, were all so legible in his pale features--that those who were present kept their eyes averted, from respect to the man, and from sympathy with his sufferings.

At length he himself came forward, and, after wiping away a few bitter tears from his cheeks, he said--"Gentlemen, I care little about the money I lost, nor about who took it--let it go--as for me, I won't miss it; but there is one thing that cuts me to the heart--I'm spakin' about the misfortune that was brought, or near bein' brought, upon this honest an' generous-hearted young man, Bryan M'Mahon, through manes of a black plot that was got up against him--I'm spakin' of the Still that was found on his farm of Ahadarra. That, if my son had act or part in it, is a thousand times worse than the other; as for the takin' of the money, I don't care about it, as I said--nor I won't prosecute any one for it; but I must have my mind satisfied about the other affair."

It is not our intention to dwell at any length upon the clear proofs of his treachery and deceit, which were established against him by Harry Clinton, who produced the anonymous letter to his uncle--brought home to him as it was by his own evidence and that of Nanny Peety.

"There is, however," said Vanston, "another circumstance affecting the reputation and honesty of Mr. Bryan M'Mahon, which in your presence, Mr. M'Gowan, I am anxious to set at rest. I have already contradicted it with indignation wherever I have heard it, and I am the more anxious to do so, now, whilst M'Mahon and Burke are present, and because I have been given to understand that you denounced him--M'Mahon--with such hostility from the altar, as almost occasioned him to be put to death in the house of God."

"You are undher a mistake there, Major Vanston, with great respect," replied the priest. "It wasn't I but my senior curate, Father M'Pepper; and he has already been reprimanded by his Bishop."

"Well," replied the other, "I am glad to hear it. However, I, now solemnly declare, as an honest man and an Irish, gentleman, that neither I, nor any one for me, with my knowledge, ever gave or sent any money to Bryan M'Mahon; but perhaps we may ascertain who did. M'Mahon, have you got the letter about you?"

"I have, sir," replied Bryan, "and the bank-note, too."

"You will find the frank and address both in your own handwriting," said Hycy. "It was I brought him the letter from the post-office."

"Show me the letter, if you plaise," said Nanny, who, after looking first at it and then at Hycy, added, "and it was I gave it this little tear near the corner, and dhrew three scrapes of a pin across the paper, an' there they are yet; an' now I can take my oath that it was Mr. Hycy that sent that letther to Bryan M'Mahon--an' your Reverence is the very man I showed it to, and that tould me who it was goin' to, in the street of Ballymacan."'

On a close inspection of the letter it was clearly obvious that, although there appeared at a cursory glance a strong resemblance between the frank and the address, yet the difference was too plain to be mistaken.

"If there is further evidence necessary," said Vanston, looking at Hycy significantly, "my agent can produce it--and he is now in the house."

"I think you would not venture on that," replied Hycy.

"Don't be too sure of that," said the other, determinedly.

"Sir," replied Father Magowan, "there is nothing further on that point necessary--the proof is plain and clear; and now, Bryan M'Mahon, give me your hand, for it is that of an honest man--I am proud to see that you stand pure and unsullied again; and it shall be my duty to see that justice shall be rendered! you, and ample compensation made for all that you have suffered."

"Thank you, sir," replied Bryan, with an air of deep dejection, "but I am sorry to say it is now too late--I am done with the country, and with those that misrepresented me, for ever."

Chevydale looked at him with deep attention for a moment, then whispered something to Vanston, who smiled, and nodded his head approvingly.

Jemmy Burke now prepared to go. "Good mornin', gintlemen," he said, "I am glad to see the honest name cleared and set right, as it ought to be; but as for myself, I lave you wid a heavy--wid a breakin' heart."

As he disappeared at the door, Hycy rushed after him, exclaiming, "Father, listen to me--don't go yet till you hear my defence. I will go and fetch him back," he exclaimed--"he must hear what I have to say for myself."

He overtook his father at the bottom of the hall steps. "Give me a hundred pounds," said he, "and you will never see my face again."

"There is two hundre'," said his father; "I expected this. Your mother confessed all to me this mornin', bekaise she knew it would come out here, I suppose. Go now, for undher my roof you'll never come again. If you can--reform your life--an' live at all events, as if there was a God above you. Before you go answer me;--what made you bring in Bat Hogan to rob me?"

"Simply," replied his son, "because I wished to make him and them feel that I had them in my power--and now you have it."

Hycy received the money, set spurs to his horse, and was out of sight in a moment--"Ah!" exclaimed the old man, with bitterness of soul, "what mightn't he be if his weak and foolish mother hadn't taken it into her head to make a gentleman of him! But now she reaps as she sowed. She's punished--an' that's enough."--And thus does Hycy the accomplished make his exit from our humble stage.

"Gintlemen," said Finigan, "now that the accomplished Mr. Hycy is disposed of, I beg to state, that it will be productive of much public good to the country to expatriate these three virtuous worthies, qui nomine gaudent Hogan--and the more so as it can be done on clear legal grounds. They are a principal means of driving this respectable young man, Bryan M'Mahon, and his father's family, out of the land of their birth; and there will be something extremely appropriate--and indicative besides of condign and retributive punishment--in sending them on their travels at his Majesty's expense. I am here, in connection with others, to furnish you with the necessary proof against them; and I am of opinion that the sooner they are sent upon a voyage of discovery it will be so much the better for the rejoicing neighborhood they will leave behind them."

The hint was immediately taken with respect to them and Vincent, all of whom had been engaged in coming under Hycy's auspices--they were apprehended and imprisoned, the chief evidence against them being Teddy Phats, Peety Dhu, and Finigan, who for once became a stag, as he called it. They were indicted for a capital felony; but the prosecution having been postponed for want of sufficient evidence, they were kept in durance until next assizes;--having found it impossible to procure bail. In the meantime new charges of uttering base coin came thick and strong against them; and as the Crown lawyers found that they could not succeed on the capital indictment--nor indeed did they wish to do so--they tried them on the lighter one, and succeeded in getting sentence of transportation passed against every one of them, with the exception of Kate Hogan alone.--So that, as Finigan afterwards said, "instead of Bryan M'Mahon, it was they themselves that became 'the Emigrants of Ahadarra,' at the king's expense--and Mr. Hycy at his own." _

Read next: Chapter 27. Conclusion

Read previous: Chapter 25. The Old Places--Death Of A Patriarch

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