It was said, however, and generally supposed, by several of the neighboring gentry, that even M'Clutchy himself would scarcely dare to take such a step, in defiance of common humanity, public opinion, and the laws both of God and--we were about to add--man, but the word cannot be written.

Every step he took was strictly and perfectly legal, and the consequence was, that he had that strong argument, "I am supporthed by the, laws of the land," to enable him to trample upon all the principles of humanity and justice--to gratify political rancor, personal hatred, to oppress, persecute, and ruin.
Removal, however, in Torley O'Regan's case, would have been instant death.

Motion or effort of any kind were strictly forbidden, as was conversation, except in the calmest and lowest tones, and everything at at all approaching to excitement.

Still the terror lest this inhuman agent might carry his resolution into effect on such a day, and under such circumstances, gave to their pitiable sense of his loss a dark and deadly hue of misery, at which the heart actually sickens.

From the hour of nine o'clock on that ominous morning, the inhabitants of Drum Dhu were passing, despite the storm, from cabin to cabin, discussing the probable events of the day, and asking each other if it could be possible that M'Clutchy would turn them out under such a tempest.