The seizure of the distillery apparatus on M’Mahon’s farm of Ahadarra, was in a few days followed by knowledge of the ruin in which it must necessarily involve that excellent and industrious young man.  At this time there was an act of parliament in existence against illicit distillation, but of so recent a date that it was only when a seizure similar to the foregoing had been made, that the people in any particular district became acquainted with it.  By this enactment the offending individual was looked upon as having no farther violated the laws in that case made and provided, than those who had never been engaged in such pursuits at all.  In other words, the innocent, were equally punished with the guilty.  A heavy fine was imposed—­not on the offender, but on the whole townland in which he lived; so that the guilt of one individual was not visited as it ought to have been on the culprit himself, but equally distributed in all its penalties upon the other inhabitants of the district in question, who may have had neither act nor part in any violation of the laws whatsoever.

Bryan M’Mahon, on discovering the fearful position in which it placed him, scarcely knew on what hand to turn.  His family were equally alarmed, and with just reason.  Illicit distillation had been carried to incredible lengths for the last two or three years, and the statute in question was enacted with, a hope that it might unite the people in a kind of legal confederacy against a system so destructive of industry and morals.  The act, however ill-judged, and impolitic at best, was not merely imperative,—­but fraught with ruin and bloodshed.  It immediately became the engine of malice and revenge between individual enemies—­often between rival factions, and not unfrequently between parties instigated against each other by political rancor and hatred.  Indeed, so destructive of the lives and morals of the people was it found, that in the course of a very few years it was repealed, but not until it had led to repeated murders and brought ruin and destruction upon many an unoffending and industrious family.

Bryan now bethought him of the warnings he had received from the gauger and Fethertonge, and resolved to see both, that he; might be enabled, if possible, to trace to its source the plot that had been laid, for his destruction.  He accordingly went down to his father’s at Carriglass, where he had not been long when Hycy Burke made his appearance, “Having come that far on his way,” he said, “to see him, and to ascertain the truth of the report that had gone abroad respecting the heavy responsibility under which the illicit distillation had placed him.”  Bryan was naturally generous and without suspicion; but notwithstanding this, it was impossible that he should not entertain some slight surmises touching the sincerity of Burke.

“What is this, Bryan?” said the latter.  “Can it be possible that you’re in for the Fine, as report goes?”