“Mavrone!” exclaimed Hourigan, “acts of Parliament! oh! thin many a bitther piece of cruelty and injustice has been practised upon us by Act o’ Parliament!”

“Ho, you traisonable villain!” exclaimed the other—­“what sedition is this?”

“It is sich Acts o’ Parliament,” said the adroit knave, “that gets good men and good magistrates shot like dogs, an’ that has brought the counthry to the fearful pass it’s in, I wisht myself I was out of it, for the people is beginnin’ to single out sich magistrates as they’ll shoot, as if their lives worn’t worth a rat’s.”

“Ah!—­hem—­hem—­Hourigan, you are a d—­d ras—­hem simple-hearted fellow, I think, or you wouldn’t spake as you do.

“But an I to get not justice sir, against the man that left me as you see me.  Is the poor man, sir, to be horse-whipped and cut up at the will an’ pleasure of the rich, an’not to get either law or justice?”

O’Driscol’s face was now a picture of most ludicrous embarrassment and distress.

“Certainly, Hourigan, I shall—­hem—­I shall always administer justice impartially—­impartially—­no one can question that.  Your case,” he added—­(for we must say here that Hourigan’s language brought back to his mind all the horrors of Tandrem’s death, as well as that threatened to himself in the recent notice)—­“your case, Hourigan is a difficult and peculiar one, poor man!”

“Hourigan, my good fellow,” said Purcel, “take care of what you are about.  Don’t be too certain that some of your neighbors won’t find you, before you are much older, in the centre of a deep-laid conspiracy; and perhaps the government of the country may have an opportunity before long to thank and reward those who will have it exposed and broken up.  Do you understand me?”

Purcel, while he spoke, kept his eyes fixed very significantly upon the magistrate, to whose imagination a long and interesting correspondence with his friend, the Castle, started immediately forth, appended to which were votes of thanks, flattering testimonies, together with a stipendiary magistracy, with a full retiring pension, and an appointment for his son, in the background.

“He has made use of that language to intimidate your worship,” proceeded Purcel, but I think he ought to know you better.”

“Sir,” said O’Driscol, addressing Hourigan, “what did you mane by talking about shooting magistrates?  Do you think, sirrah, to frighten me—­Fitzgerald O’Driscol—­from discharging my duty?”

“Frighten, you, sir! oh! bedad, your honor, you aren’t the gintleman for that.”

“No, sir, I believe not—­I believe not, Hourigan; no, my poor man, I am not indeed.  Hourigan, you are not an uncivil person, but why refuse to pay your tithes?  You are well able to do it.”

“Why, bekaise I daren’t, sir; if I did—­talkin’ about shootin’—­it’s a round lump of lead I would find in my stomach instead o’ my poor breakfast, some o’ these days.”