“There are four men in from the Mountain Bar, named M'Caffrey. Now we want to have the Bills against them ignored; and simply for a plain reason—at this season of the year any lengthy imprisonment would ruin them. It was a faction fight or something of that kind, and of course there is no feeling of a religious or party nature in it. Am I not right, Sir William?”
“Perfectly; the thing took place during my absence in England for the last few months. Had I been at home, the matter would have been peaceably decided in my own stable-yard.”
“Yes,” observed Val, “but it appears there was a man's life in danger.”
“Yes, but, sir, his life is now out of danger.”
“Well, but does not this,” rejoined Val in his most serious mood, “look very like obstructing the course of justice?”
“Why, you d——d scoundrel,” said the Baronet, “what, in nineteen cases out of twenty, is done at every assizes where matters connected with religion or politics are concerned, that ought not to be called obstructing the course of justice?”
“We shall return true Bills, Sir William and that is the only reply I have to make, except to thank you for your courtesy.”
“Mr. M'Clutchy,” said Hartley, “I know your good sense and forbearance, both of which are so creditable to you. These poor fellows will be ruined, for both you and I know what kind of jury that is to try them.”
“An honest jury, Mr. Hartley,” said Mr, M'Clutchy, who was now beginning to feel a little of his power—“an honest jury, Mr. Hartley.”
“I give you leave to say so, Val; but, in the meantime, I will accept one favor from you, if you grant me two.”