“I sartinly will not,” replied Bryan, who was forcibly struck with the truth and warmth of interest that were evident in his language and manner; “and here is a letter that I received this very mornin’ from the Secretary of Excise, stating that no memorial on my behalf has been sent up to them at all.”

“Ay, just so; that is the true state of the matter.”

“What, in God’s name, am I to do, then?” asked Bryan, in a state of great and evident perplexity.

“I shall tell you; go to an honest man—­I don’t say, observe, that Chevydale is not honest; but he is weak and negligent, and altogether the slave and dupe of his agent.  Go to-morrow morning early, about eight o’clock, fetch another memorial, and wait upon Major Vanston; state your case to him plainly and simply, and, my life for yours, he will not neglect you, at all events.  Get a fresh memorial drawn up this very day.”

“I can easily do that,” said Bryan, “for I have a rough copy of the one I sent; it was Hycy Burke drew it up.”

“Hycy Burke,” repeated Clinton, starting with surprise, “do you tell me so?”

“Sartinly,” replied the other, “why do you ask?”

Clinton shook his head carelessly.  “Well,” he said, “I am glad of it; it is better late than never.  Hycy Burke”—­he paused and looked serious a moment,—­“yes,” he added, “I am glad of it.  Go now and follow my advice, and you will have at least a chance of succeeding, and perhaps of defeating your enemies, that is, if you have any.”

The pressure of time rendered energy and activity necessary in the case of Bryan; and, accordingly, about eight o’clock next morning, he was seeking permission to speak to the man against whom he and his family had always conscientiously voted—­because he had been opposed to the spirit and principles of their religion.

Major Vanston heard his case with patience, inquired more minutely into the circumstances, asked where Ahadarra was, the name of his landlord, and such other circumstance as were calculated to make the case clear.

“Pray, who drew up this memorial?” he asked.

“Mr. Hycy Burke, sir,” replied Bryan.

“Ah, indeed,” said he, glancing with a singular meaning at M’Mahon.

“You and Burke are intimate then?”

“Why, we are, sir,” replied Bryan, “on very good terms.”

“And now—­Mr.’Burke has obliged you, I suppose, because you have obliged him?”

“Well, I don’t know that he has obliged me much,” said Bryan, “but I know that I have obliged him a good deal.”

Vanston nodded and seemed satisfied.

“Very well,” he proceeded; “but, with respect to this memorial.  I can’t promise you much.  Leave it with me, however, and you shall probably hear from me again.  I fear we are late in point of time; indeed, I have but faint hopes of it altogether, and I would not recommend you to form any strong expectations from the interference of any one; still, at the same time,” he added, looking significantly at him, “I don’t desire you to despair altogether.”