“Ay, ay,” said Clinton, “that may be so, and I hope it is so; but you know that it could not be expected you would admit it even if it be true. Will you in the mean time, be guided by a friend? I respect your father and his family; I respect yourself, M'Mahon; and, consequently, my advice to you is--keep out of the meshes of the law--avoid violating it--and remember you have enemies. Now think of these words, and so good-bye, M'Mahon! Indeed, I am glad for your own sake I met you--good-bye!” As he uttered the last words he dashed on and left Bryan in a state of perfect amazement at the strange and incomprehensible nature of the communication he had just received. Indeed, so full was his mind of the circumstance, that forgetting all his suspicions of Fethertonge, and urged by the ingenuous impulse of an honest heart, he could not prevent himself in the surprise and agitation of the moment from detailing the conversation which he had just had with the gauger. “That is singular enough,” said Fethertonge--“he named Hycy Burke, then?” “He did, sir.” “It is singular,” proceeded the other, as if speaking to himself; “in truth, my dear M'Mahon, we were talking about you, discussing, in fact, the same subject not many minutes ago; and what you tell me now is only an additional proof that Clinton, who is sometimes harshly spoken of by the way, is a straightforward, honest man.” “What could he mane, sir?” asked Bryan, “I never had anything to do contrary to the law--I haven't now, nor do I ever intend to have--” “Well, I'm sure I do not know,” replied the agent: “he made no illusion of that kind to me, from a generous apprehension, I dare say, lest he might injure you in my opinion. He only desired me not rashly to listen to anything prejudicial to your character; for that you had enemies who were laboring to injure you in some way--but how--he either would not tell, or perhaps did not know. I am glad, however, he mentioned it; for I shall be guarded should I hear anything to your prejudice.” “I tell you beforehand, sir,” said Bryan, with the conscious warmth of rectitude, “and I think I ought to know best, that if you ever hear anything against my honesty or want of principle, or if any one should say that I will be consarned in what's contrary to either law or justice, you'll hear a falsehood--I don't care who it comes from--and the man who tells you so is a liar.” “I should be sorry to believe otherwise, my dear Bryan; it would grieve me to be forced to believe otherwise. If you suffer yourself to be drawn into anything wrong or improper, you will be the first individual of your family that ever brought a stain upon it. It would grieve me--deeply would it grieve me, to witness such a blot upon so honest--but no, I will not, for I cannot suppose it.”