“Peety,” said he, resuming his gravity, “you carried a letter from Hycy Burke to Kathleen Cavanagh to-day?”

“Who says that?” replied Peety, who could not but remember the solemnity of his promise to that accomplished gentleman.

“I do, Peety.”

“Well, I can’t help you, Bryan, nor prevent you from thinking so, sure—­stick to that.”

“Why, I know you did, Peety.”

“Well, acushla, an’ if you do, your only so much the wiser.”

“Oh, I understand,” continued Bryan, “it’s a private affair, or intended to be so—­an’ Mr. Hycy has made you promise not to spake of it.”

“Sure you know all about it, Bryan; an’ isn’t that enough for you?  Only what answer am I to give him?”

“None at present, Peety; but say I’ll see himself in a day or two.”

“That’s your answer, then?”

“That’s all the answer I can give till I see himself, as I said.”

“Well, good-bye, Bryan, an’ God be wid you!”

“Good-bye, Peety!” and thus they parted.

CHAPTER III.—­Jemmy Burke Refuses to be, Made a Fool Of

—­Hycy and a Confidant

Hycy Burke was one of those persons who, under the appearance of a somewhat ardent temperament, are capable of abiding the issue of an event with more than ordinary patience.  Having not the slightest suspicion of the circumstance which occasioned Bryan M’Mahon’s resentment, he waited for a day of two under the expectation that his friend was providing the sum necessary to accommodate him.  The third and fourth days passed, however, without his having received any reply whatsoever; and Hycy, who had set his heart upon Crazy Jane, on finding that his father—­who possessed as much firmness as he did of generosity—­absolutely refused to pay for her, resolved to lose no more time in putting Bryan’s friendship to the test.  To this, indeed, he was urged by Burton, a wealthy but knavish country horse-dealer, as we said, who wrote to him that unless he paid for her within a given period, he must be under the necessity of closing with a person who had offered him a higher price.  This message was very offensive to Hycy, whose great foible, as the reader knows, was to be considered a gentleman, not merely in appearance, but in means and circumstances.  He consequently had come to the determination of writing again to M’Mahon upon the same subject, when chance brought them together in the market of Ballymacan.

After the usual preliminary inquiries as to health, Hycy opened the matter:—­

“I asked you to lend me five-and-thirty pounds to secure Crazy Jane,” said he, “and you didn’t even answer my letter.  I admit I’m pretty deeply in your debt, as it is, my dear Bryan, but you know I’m safe.”

“I’m not at this moment thinking much of money matters, Hycy; but, as you like plain speaking, I tell you candidly that I’ll lend you no money.”