“So I shall,” said Mr. Stevens, “when you do something worth paying for—­the quarter is not accomplished yet.  I want the place made so hot down there that the niggers can’t stay.  Go a-head, don’t give them any rest—­I’ll protect you from the consequences, whatever they be:  I’ve great things in store for you,” continued he, moving nearer and speaking in a confidential tone; “how should you like to return to Ireland a moneyed man?”

“I should like it well enough, to be sure; but where’s the money to come from, squire?”

“Oh, there’s money enough to be had if you have the courage to earn it.”

“I’m willin’ enough to earn an honest penny, but I don’t like risking me neck for it, squire.  It’s clear ye’ll not be afther givin’ me a dale of money widout being sure of havin’ the worth of it out o’ me; and it’s dirty work enough I’ve done, widout the doin’ of any more:  me conscience is a sore throuble to me about the other job.  Be the powers I’m out o’ that, and divil a like scrape will I get in agin wid my own consint.”

“Your conscience has become troublesome very suddenly,” rejoined Mr. Stevens, with a look of angry scorn; “it’s strange it don’t appear to have troubled you in the least during the last few weeks, whilst you have been knocking niggers on the head so freely.”

“Well, I’m tired o’ that work,” interrupted McCloskey; “and what’s more, I’ll soon be lavin’ of it off.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Mr. Stevens.  “You’re a pretty fellow, now, ain’t you—­grateful, too—­very!  Here I’ve been successful in getting you out of a hanging scrape, and require a trifling service in return, and you retire.  You’ll find this trifling won’t do with me,” continued Mr. Stevens, with great sternness of manner.  “You shall do as I wish:  you are in my power!  I need your services, and I will have them—­make up your mind to that.”

McCloskey was somewhat staggered at this bold declaration from Mr. Stevens; but he soon assumed his former assured manner, and replied, “I’d like to know how I’m in your power:  as far as this riot business is concerned, you’re as deep in the mud as I’m in the mire; as for the other, be St. Patrick, I’m clane out o’ that!—­they don’t try a man twice for the same thing.”  “Don’t halloo so loud, my fine fellow,” sneeringly rejoined Mr. Stevens, “you are not entirely out of the wood yet; you are by no means as safe as you imagine—­you haven’t been tried yet, you have only been examined before a magistrate!  They lacked sufficient evidence to commit you for trial—­that evidence I can produce at any time; so remember, if you please, you have not been tried yet:  when you have been, and acquitted, be kind enough to let me know, will you?”

Mr. Stevens stood for a few moments silently regarding the change his language had brought over the now crestfallen McCloskey; he then continued—­“Don’t think you can escape me—­I’ll have a thousand eyes upon you; no one ever escapes me that I wish to retain.  Do as I require, and I’ll promote your interest in every possible way, and protect you; but waver, or hold back, and I’ll hang you as unhesitatingly as if you were a dog.”