“Very well,” said Val, as they approached him, “the M’Caffreys go to trial.”

“Sir William, excuse me,” said Hartley; “will you allow me to interfere, in the first instance?”

“My dear fellow, certainly, with great pleasure, and I shall aid you as far as I can.”

“Val,” said Hartley, in that kind of familiar tone which he knew would go far with such a man as M’Clutchy, and which was in such accordance with his own natural good-humor—­“Val, my good fellow, and the best man of business here, by the way, notwithstanding the poteen affair, I want you to stand my friend and also Sir William’s here.”

“How is that, Hartley?”

“There are four men in from the Mountain Bar, named M’Caffrey.  Now we want to have the Bills against them ignored; and simply for a plain reason—­at this season of the year any lengthy imprisonment would ruin them.  It was a faction fight or something of that kind, and of course there is no feeling of a religious or party nature in it.  Am I not right, Sir William?”

“Perfectly; the thing took place during my absence in England for the last few months.  Had I been at home, the matter would have been peaceably decided in my own stable-yard.”

“Yes,” observed Val, “but it appears there was a man’s life in danger.”

“Yes, but, sir, his life is now out of danger.”

“Well, but does not this,” rejoined Val in his most serious mood, “look very like obstructing the course of justice?”

“Why, you d——­d scoundrel,” said the Baronet, “what, in nineteen cases out of twenty, is done at every assizes where matters connected with religion or politics are concerned, that ought not to be called obstructing the course of justice?”

“We shall return true Bills, Sir William and that is the only reply I have to make, except to thank you for your courtesy.”

“Mr. M’Clutchy,” said Hartley, “I know your good sense and forbearance, both of which are so creditable to you.  These poor fellows will be ruined, for both you and I know what kind of jury that is to try them.”

“An honest jury, Mr. Hartley,” said Mr, M’Clutchy, who was now beginning to feel a little of his power—­“an honest jury, Mr. Hartley.”

“I give you leave to say so, Val; but, in the meantime, I will accept one favor from you, if you grant me two.”

“How is that sir?” asked Val.

“Send me that poteen you spoke of, and ignore the Bills against these M’Caffreys.”

“No, sir,” replied Val, looking with his own peculiar beetle-browed smile at Sir William, “I shall not; for by G—­, we will find true Bills against the four M’Caffreys.  We might do something for humanity, Mr. Hartley; but we are not to be made fools of before our own faces.”

“I do not understand you,” replied Hartley.

“He is nothing but a scoundrel, as I said,” returned Sir William—­“that is all; a low-born scoundrel; and it is a disgrace to see such a fellow’s name upon any Grand Jury list.”