“You know,” replied the priest, “that you cannot be taken by surprise; because I myself told you the substance of the strong suspicions that are against you.”
Bryan M'Mahon now entered, and was cordially greeted by Vanston—and we may add rather kindly, in manner at least, by Chevydale.
“By the way,” asked the former of these gentlemen, “does this investigation bear in any way upon your interests, M'Mahon?”
“Not, sir, so far as I am aware of—I come here because Father Magowan wished me to come. I have no interests connected with this country now,” he added in a tone of deep melancholy, “there's an end to that for ever.”
“Now, my good girl,” said Chevydale, “you will state all you know connected with these Hogans fully and truly—that is, neither more nor less than the truth.”
“All the truth, Nanny,” said Kate Hogan, in a voice of strongly condensed power; “Hycy Burke,” she proceeded, “you ruined Bryan M'Mahon here—and, by ruinin' him, you broke Miss Kathleen Cavanagh's heart—she's gone—no docthor could save her now; and for this you'll soon know what Kate Hogan can do. Go on, Nanny.”
“Well, gintlemon,” Nanny began, “in the first place it was Mr. Hycy here that got the Still up in Ahadarra, in ordher to beggar Bryan M'Mahon by the fine.”
Hycy laughed. “Excellent!” said he; “Why, really, Mr. Chevydale, I did not imagine that you could suffer such a farce as this is likely to turn out to be enacted exactly in your office.”
“Enacted! well, that's, appropriate at any rate,” said the schoolmaster; “but in the mane time, Mr. Hycy, take care that the farce won't become a tragedy on your hands, and you yourself the hero of it. Proceed, girsha.”
“How do you know,” asked Chevydale, “that this charge is true?”