“I can swear,” continued Kate, “that it was him got up the whole plan, and gave them the money for it. I seen him in our house—or, to come nearer the truth, in Gerald Cavanagh's kiln, where we live—givin' them the money.”
“As you are upon that subject, gentlemen,” observed Harry Clinton, “I think it due to the character of Bryan M'Mahon to state that I am in a capacity to prove that Hycy Burke was unquestionably at the bottom—or, in point of fact, the originator—of his calamities with reference to the act of illicit distillation, and the fine which he would have been called on to pay, were it not that the Commissioners of Excise remitted it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Clinton,” replied Hycy; “I find I am not mistaken in you—I think you are worthy of your accomplices”—and he pointed to Kate and Nanny as he spoke—“proceed.”
“We are passing,” observed Vanston, “from one to another rather irregularly, I fear; don't you think we had better hear this girl fully in the first place; but, my good girl,” he added, “you are to understand that we are not here to investigate any charges against Mr. Hycy Burke, but against the Hogans. You will please then to confine your charges to them.”
“But,” replied Nanny, “that's what I can't do, plase your honor, widout bringin' in Hycy Burke too, bekaise himself an' the Hogans was joined in everything.”
“I think, gintlemen,” said the priest, “the best plan is to let her tell her story in her own way.”
“Perhaps so,” said Chevydale; “proceed, young woman, and state fully and truly whatever you have got to say.”
“Well, then,” she proceeded, “there's one thing I know—I know who robbed Mr. Burke here;” and she pointed to the old man, who started.
The magistrates also looked surprised. “How,” said Vanston, turning his eyes keenly upon her, “you know of the robbery; and pray, how long have you known it?'”
“Ever since the night it was committed, plaise your honor.”