“But how did you know that the shoes were Hogan’s?” asked Vanston.

“Why, your honor, any one that ever seen the man might know that.  One of his heels is a trifle shorter than the other, which makes him halt a little, an’ he has a bunion as big as an egg on the other foot.”

“Ay, Nanny,” said Kate, “that’s the truth; but I can tell you more, gentlemen.  On the evenin’ before, when Mr. Hycy came home, he made up the plan to rob his father wid Phil Hogan; but Phil got drunk that night an’ Bat had to go in his place.  Mr. Hycy promised to see the Hogans that mornin’ at his father’s, about ten o’clock; but when they went he had gone off to Ballymacan; an’ as they expected him every minute, they stayed about the place in spite o’ the family, an’ mended everything they could lay their hands on.  Bat an’ Mr. Hycy met that night in Teddy Phat’s still-house, in Glendearg, an’ went home together across the mountains aftherward.”

“Well, Mr. Burke, what have you to say to this?” asked Chevydale.

“Why,” replied Hycy, “that it’s a very respectable conspiracy as it stands, supported by the thief and vagabond, and the beggar’s brat.”

“Was there any investigation at the time of its occurrence?” asked Vanston.

“There was, your honor,” replied Nanny; “it was proved, clearly enough that Phil and Ned Hogan were both dead drunk that night an’ couldn’t commit a robbery; an’ Masther Hycy himself said that he knew how Bat spent the night, an’ that of course he couldn’t do it; an’ you know, your honors, there was no gettin’ over that.  I have, or rather my father has, Bat Hogan’s shoes still.”

“This, I repeat, seems a very serious charge, Mr. Burke,” said Chevydale again.

“Which, as I said before, contains not one particle of truth,” replied Hycy.  “If I had resolved to break open my father’s chest to get cash out of it, it is not likely that I would call in the aid of such a man as Bat Hogan.  As a proof that I had nothing to do with the robbery in question, I can satisfy you that my mother, not many days after the occurrence of it, was obliged to get her car and drive some three or four miles’ distance to borrow a hundred pounds for me from a friend of hers, upon her own responsibility, which, had I committed the outrage in question, I would not have required at all.”

Old Burke’s face would, at this period of the proceedings, have extorted compassion from any heart.  Sorrow, distress, agony of spirit, and shame, were all so legible in his pale features—­that those who were present kept their eyes averted, from respect to the man, and from sympathy with his sufferings.