“I feel, and am perfectly sensible of the truth of what you say,” replied Vanston, “and I am certain that, in mere self-defence, we must identify ourselves with the people whose interests most unquestionably are ours.”

“As to myself,” continued Chevydale, “I fear I have much to repair in my conduct as an Irish landlord.  I have been too confiding and easy—­in fact, I have not thought for myself; but been merely good or evil, according to the caprice of the man who managed me, and whom, up until now, I did not suspect.”

“The man, my good friend, is probably not worse in general than others,” replied Vanston; “but the truth is, that there has been such a laxity of management in Irish property—­such indifference and neglect upon our part, and such gross ignorance of our duties, that agents were, and in most cases are, at liberty to act as they please in our names, and under show of our authority; you can scarcely suppose this man, consequently, much worse than others who are placed in similar circumstances.”

The dialogue was here interrupted by the entrance of old Clinton and his nephew; but, as our readers are already in possession of the proofs they brought against Hycy Burke and Fethertonge, it is not necessary that we should detail there conversation at full length.

“I must confess,” said Clinton, “that I would have some reason to feel ashamed of my part in the transactions with respect to Ahadarra, were it not, in the first place, that I have never been much afflicted with the commodity; and, in the next, that these transactions are too common to excite any feeling one way or the other.”

“But you must have known, Clinton,” said Chevydale, “that it was a most iniquitous thing in you to enter into a corrupt bargain with a dishonest agent for the property which you knew to belong to another man.”

“What other man, Mr. Chevydale?  Had not M’Mahon’s lease expired?”

“But had you not in your own possession my father’s written promise—­written, too, on his death-bed—­to these honest men, that they should have their leases renewed?”

“Yes, but that was your agent’s affair, and his dishonesty, too, not mine.”

“As much yours as his; and, by the way, I don’t see upon what principle you, who are equally involved with him in the profligacy of the transaction, should come to bear testimony against him now.  They say there is honor among thieves, but I see very little of it here.”

“Faith, to tell you the truth,” replied Clinton, “as I said to Harry here, because I like to see a rogue punished, especially when he is not prepared for it.”

“Well,” said Chevydale, with a very solemn ironical smile, “I am myself very much of your way of thinking; and, as a proof of it, I beg to say that, as your appointment to the office of Supervisor has not yet been made out, I shall write to my brother, the Commissioner, to take care that it never shall.  To procure the promotion of a man who can deliberately avow his participation in such shameless profligacy would be to identify myself with it.  You have been doubly treacherous, Mr. Clinton; first to me, whom you know to be your friend, and, in the next place, to the unfortunate partner in your villany, and at my expense; for d——­d if I can call it less.  What noise is that?”