“I have now no earthly doubt of it, Hycy,” replied the other.

“You need not,” replied Hycy; “and maybe I’m not far astray when I say, that the hook-nosed old Still-hound, Clinton, is not a thousand miles from the plot.  I could name others connected with some of them—­but I wont, now.”

When M’Mahon recollected the conversation which both Clinton and the agent had held with him, with respect to violating the law, the truth of Hycy’s remark flashed upon him at once, and of course deepened his indignation almost beyond endurance.

“They are two d—­d scoundrels,” pursued Hycy, “and I have reasons, besides, for suspecting that it was their wish, if they could have done it successfully, to have directed your suspicions against myself.”

M’Mahon was, in fact, already convinced of this, and felt satisfied that he saw through and understood the whole design against him, and was perfectly aware of those who had brought him to ruin.

“By the way,” said Hycy, “let me not forget that I have been looking for you this hour or two; here is a letter I got for you in! the post-office this morning.  It has Vanston’s frank, and I think is in his handwriting.”

M’Mahon’s face, on perusing the letter, beamed with animation and delight.  “Here, Hycy,” said he, “read that; I’m safe yet, thank God, and not a ruined man, as the villains thought to make me.”

“By my soul and honor, Bryan,” exclaimed the other, “that is noble on the part of Vanston, especially towards an individual from whom, as well as from his whole family, he has ever experienced the strongest opposition.  However, if I were in your coat, I certainly would not suffer him to outdo me in generosity.  Good heavens! only contrast such conduct with that of the other scoundrel, his opponent, and then see the conclusion you must come to.”

“Let Vanston be what he may, he’s an honest man,” replied Bryan, “and in less than ten minutes I’ll have him the sittin’ member.  I would be ungrateful and ungenerous, as you say, Hycy, not to do so.  Come along—­come along, I bid you.  I don’t care what they say.  The man that saved me—­who was his enemy—­from ruin, will have my vote.”

They accordingly proceeded towards the court house, and on their way Hycy addressed him as follows:—­“Now, Bryan, in order to give your conduct an appearance of greater generosity, I will pretend to dissuade you against voting for Vanston, or, rather, I will endeavor, as it were, to get your vote for Chevydale.  This will make the act more manly and determined on your part, and consequently one much more high-minded and creditable to your reputation.  You will show them, besides, that you are not the cowardly slave of your landlord.”

It was accordingly so managed; the enthusiastic gratitude of the young man overcame all considerations; and in a few minutes Major Vanston was declared by the sheriff duly elected, by a majority of one vote only.