“M'Mahon,” replied Fethertonge, “I fear not; but, at all events, we must try him again. Vote or not, however, we shall soon clear him out of Ahadarra--we shall punish his insolence for daring to withhold his vote; for, as sure as my name is Fethertonge, out he goes. The fine and distillation affair, however, will save us a good deal of trouble, and of course I am very glad you declined to have anything to do with the support of his petition. The fellow is nothing else than shuffler, as I told you. Vote or not, therefore, out of Ahadarra he goes; and, when he does, I have a good tenant to put in his place.” M'Mahon's blood boiled on hearing this language, and he inwardly swore that, let the consequences be what they might, a vote of his should never go to the support of such a man. Again we return to Hycy Burke, who, when the day of the great struggle arrived, rode after breakfast on that same morning into Ballymacan, and inquired at the post-office if there were any letters for him. “No,” replied the postmaster; “but, if you see Bryan M'Mahon, tell him I have here one for him, from Major Vanston--it's his frank and his handwriting.” “I'm going directly to him,” said Hycy, “and will bring it to him; so you had better hand it here.” The postmaster gave him the letter, and in a few minutes Hycy was on his way home with as much speed as his horse was capable of making. “Nanny,” said he, calling upon Nanny Peety, when he had put his horse in the stable and entered the parlor, “will you fetch me a candle and some warm water?” “Yes, sir,” said Nanny; “but you must wait till I boil some, for there's none hot.” “Be quick, then,” said he, “for I'm in a devil of a hurry. Shut the door after you, I say. What is the reason that you never do so, often as I have spoken to you about it?” “Becaise it's never done,” she replied; “nobody ever bids me shut it but yourself, an' that's what makes me forget it.” “Well, I'll thank you,” he said, “to pay more attention to what I say to you I have reason to think you both intrusive and ungrateful, Nanny; and, mark, unless you show me somewhat more submission, madam, you shall pitch your camp elsewhere. It was I brought you here.” “Ax your own conscience why, Mr. Hycy.” “Begone now and get me the hot water,” he said, with a frown of anger and vexation, heightened probably by the state of agitation into which the possession of Vanston's letter had already put him. We shall not follow him through all the ingenious and dishonorable manoeuvres by which he got the communication safely open-ed; it is enough to say that, in the course of a few minutes, he was enabled to peruse the contents of Vanston's communication, which were as follows:-- Sir,--I beg to enclose you a letter which I received yesterday from the Secretary to the Board of Excise, and to assure you that I feel much pleasure in congratulating you upon its contents, and the satisfactory result of your memorial. “I am, sir, very sincerely yours,