“The man who sent you that letter was Hycy Burke.”

“Very likely,” replied the cool old Still-Hound; “But I did not think he would ever place us—­”

“You, sir, if you please.”

“Very well, me, sir, if you please, under such an important obligation to him.  How do you know, though, that it was he who sent it?”

His nephew then related the circumstance of his meeting with Nanny Peety, and the discovery he had made through her of the letter having been both written and sent by Hycy to the post-office.  In order, besides, to satisfy his relative that the getting up of the still was a plan concocted by Hycy to ruin M’Mahon, through the, medium of the fine, he detailed as much of Hycy’s former proposal to him as he conveniently could, without disclosing the part which he himself had undertaken to perform in this concerted moment.

“Well, Harry,” replied the old fellow after a pause, “he’s a d—­d scoundrel, no doubt; but as his scoundrelism is his own, I don’t see why we should hesitate to avail ourselves of it.  With respect, however, to M’Mahon, I can assure you, that I was informed of his intention to set up a Still a good while before I made the capture, and not by anonymous information either.  Now, what would you say if both I and Fethertonge knew the whole plot long before it was put in practice?”

As he spoke, he screwed his hard keen features into a most knavish expression.

“Yes,” he added; “and I can tell you that both the agent and I forwarned M’Mahon against suffering himself to engage in anything illegal—­which was our duty as his friends you know—­hem!”

“Is that possible?” said his nephew, blushing for this villianous admission.

“Quite possible,” replied the other; “however, as I said, I don’t see why we should hesitate to avail ourselves of his villany.”

“That is precisely what I was about to say, sir,” replied his nephew, still musing on what he had heard.

“Right, Harry; the farm is a good thing, or will be so, at least.”

“The farm, sir! but I did not speak with reference to the farm.”

“Then with reference to what did you speak?”

“I meant, sir, that we should not hesitate to avail ourselves of his villany, in setting M’Mahon right with the public as far as we could.”

“With the whole public!—­whew!  Why, my good young man, I thought the days of giants and windmills had gone by.”

“Well, sir,” continued the nephew, “at all events there is one thing you must do for me.  I wish you to see old Gerald Cavanagh, and as far as you can to restore his confidence in the honesty and integrity of young M’Mahon.  State to him that you have reason to know that his son has a bitter enemy in the neighborhood; that great injustice had been done to him in many ways, and that you would be glad that a reconciliation should take place between the families.”

“And so I am to set out upon the wild goose chase of reconciling a wench, and a fellow, without knowing why or wherefore.”