“To be sure it is, and a devilish ugly scrape, too, my friend: havn't you given information to the Attorney-general against the young O'Donoghue?”
Lanty nodded, and he went on—
“Havn't you confessed the whole of the plot, and told them everything?”
“Very nearly, faix!” said Lanty, dropping his head, and sighing.
“And what do you expect to gain by that, Master Lanty? Is it by showing that you are of no use to them—that you've nothing more left in you—that you hope for a reward. Is it for the sake of your family and friends, or on account of your remarkable honesty, they're so fond of you?” Then checking this sneering tone, he added, in a slow and solemn voice, “Are you a fool, man?—or don't you see what you're bringing yourseif to? What will be your claim when the trial of the young O'Donoghue is over? The crown lawyers will have you up in the witness-box till they've drained you dry. Devil a drop they'll leave in you; and when they say 'Go down,' take my word for it, it's down you'll go in earnest; and all the world wouldn't lift you up afterwards.”
Hemsworth permitted the words to sink into his heart for a few seconds in silence, and then went on—
“So long as you trusted me, you were safe. I'd never expose you in open court.”
“No, sir, nor the Attorney-general neither. He said that all they wanted was my information on oath.”