had failed; and men were beginning to say that the new law would be
comparatively powerless because it would do so little. The advocates
for the law pointed out that, taking the land of Ireland all through,
not five per cent.,--and again others not two per cent.,--would be
affected by it. Whether it had been worth while to disturb the
sanctity of contracts for so small a result is another question; but
our Mr. Jones certainly did feel the comfort that came to him from
the fact. Certain fragments of land had been reduced by the
sub-commissioners after ponderous sittings, very beneficial to the
lawyers, but which Mr. Jones had found to be grievously costly to
him. He had thus agreed to other reductions without the lawyers, and
felt those also to be very grievous, seeing that since he had
purchased the property with a Parliamentary title he had raised
nothing. There was no satisfaction to him when he was told that a
Parliamentary title meant nothing, because a following Parliament
could undo what a preceding Parliament had done. But as the
arrangements went on he came to find that no large proportion of the
estates would be affected, and that gradually the rents would be
paid. They had not been paid as yet, but such he was told was the
coming prospect. Pat Carroll had risen up as a great authority at
Ballintubber, and had refused to pay a shilling. He had also
destroyed those eighty acres of meadow-land which had sat so near Mr.
Jones's heart. It had been found impossible to punish him, but the
impossibility was to be traced to that poor boy's delinquency. As the
owner of the property turned it all over within his own bosom, he
told himself that it was so. It was that that had grieved him most,
that which still sat heavy on his heart. But the boy was gone, and
Pat Carroll was in prison, and Pat Carroll's brother had been
murdered in Galway court-house. Lax, too, was in prison, and Yorke
Clayton swore by all his gods that he should be hanged. It was likely
that he would be hanged, and Yorke Clayton might find his comfort in
that. And now had come up this terrible affair at Kerrycullion, from
which it was probable that the whole mystery of the new aristocracy
would be abandoned. Mr. Jones, as he thought of it all, whispered to
himself that if he would still hold up his head, life might yet be
possible at Castle Morony. "It will only be for myself,--only for
myself and Ada," he said, still mourning greatly over his fate. "And