was,
indeed, a peculiar combination of circumstances against M'Carthy; for
it so happened that Moylan, whilst anxious to wreak his own jealousy and
hatred upon him, was, at the same time, executing the will of another
individual who stood behind the scenes. On every side, then, M'Carthy
was surrounded by mortal dangers that were completely veiled in
obscurity. During this very night it was resolved to assassinate him,
be the consequences what they might; and if he should escape, in the one
instance, he was to be sought after in whatever house he took refuge,
with the exception only of Purcel's, which his enemies were, for the
present, afraid to attack. Every avenue and road leading to it however,
was watched, with a hope that if he escaped elsewhere, they might shoot
him down from, behind a hedge.

The condition of all secret and illegal societies in Ireland is, indeed,
shocking and most detestable, when contemplated from any point of view
whatsoever. In every one of them--that is, in every local body or
branch of such conspiracy--there is a darker and more secret class,
comparatively few in number, who undertake to organize the commission
of crimes and outrages; and who, when they are controlled by the
peaceably-disposed and enemies to bloodshed, always fall back upon this
private and blood-stained clique, who are always willing to execute
their sanguinary behests, as it were, _con amore_. In other cases,
however, as we have stated before, even the virtuous and reluctant
are often compelled, by the dark and stern decrees of these desperate
ruffians, to perpetrate crimes from which they revolt. It was,
therefore, in pursuance of these abominable principles that the
arrangements for M'Carthy's murder were made on the night in question.

Jerry Joyce perceiving, as he had feared, that M'Carthy did not return
to dinner, at once came to the determination that he would go to
Finnerty's, where, from his connection with Whiteboyism, he knew that
a meeting of them was to be held on that night. He accordingly armed
himself with a ease of pistols, which he had been allowed to keep for
the preservation of his master's family and premises, in case they
should be attacked. He had not gone, however, within two miles of the
mountains, when he met Mogue on His way home, carrying M'Carthy's, or
rather John Purcel's double gun, and other shooting gear.

"Why, Mogue," said he, "how does this come? Where's Mr. M'Carthy from
you?"

"Oh