on the way here."

"That makes me all the more sorry I can't drive you down," said the
judge, "but you see what a lot of things I have. I needn't say
good-bye: we shall meet again at the hotel."

Luncheon--chops and boiled potatoes--was served in the commercial room
of the hotel. When the maid had gone away after supplying the three
men with whisky and soda, Meldon laid down his knife and fork.

"I may introduce my subject," he said, "by saying that I have a high
respect for you. So has O'Donoghue. Haven't you, O'Donoghue?"

"I have," said O'Donoghue.

"Thanks," said the judge. "It's kind of you both to say that."

"Not at all; it's the simple truth. I look up to you a good deal in
your capacity of judge. Judge of the King's Bench, I think?"

The judge nodded.

"In order to make my position quite plain," said Meldon, "and to
prevent any possibility of your thinking that I'm meddling with your
affairs in an unwarrantable manner, I may add that I recognise in you
one of the pillars of society, a bulwark of our civil and religious
liberty, a mainstay of law and order. So does O'Donoghue."

"I'm a Nationalist myself," said the doctor, who felt that he was being
committed to sentiments which he could not entirely approve.

"I'm speaking of Sir Gilbert as an English judge," said Meldon, "and
the law and order I refer to are, so far as Sir Gilbert is concerned,
purely English. Nothing that I am saying now compromises you in the
slightest either with regard to the land question or Home Rule."

"I didn't understand that at the time you spoke," said the doctor; "but
if you don't mean any more than that I'm with you heart and soul."

"You hear what he says," said Meldon to the judge.

"I need scarcely say," replied Sir Gilbert, "that all this is immensely
gratifying to me."

"It won't surprise you now," said Meldon, "to hear that we look upon
your life as a most valuable one--too valuable to be risked
unnecessarily."

"I should appreciate this entirely unsolicited testimonial," said the
judge, "even more than I do already, if I knew exactly who was giving
it to me."

"I don't suppose that you'd be much the wiser if I tell you that my
name is Meldon--J. J. Meldon. I was at one time curate of Ballymoy."

"Thanks," said the judge. "Won't you go on with your luncheon? I'm
afraid your chop will be cold."

"I have," said Meldon, "a duty to perform. I don't mind in the least
if my chop does get cold. I