for them that's brought up to it. And if a man can't make up
his mind to one or other of the two of them, it's better for him not to
have a religion at all."

"Don't let your interest in theological controversy distract your
attention from seeing after the thorough disinfection of the judge's
bedroom."

"I will not," said Doyle; "but I'll see that your orders are carried
out. It's a queer notion, so it is, to be sleeping in damp sheets.
But a man like that ought to know what suits him."

"Right," said Meldon. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be off to
the kitchen and have my tea. You keep your eye lifting for the doctor,
and get those things out of him as soon as you can."

Sabina Gallagher, blushing and embarrassed, with a clean apron on,
stood with her back against the dresser when Meldon entered the
kitchen. He shook hands with her, and noticed at once that she had
obeyed her master's orders and made some effort to clean herself. Her
hands were damp and cold.

"I'm glad to see you looking well," said Meldon, "Is the tea ready?"

"It is," said Sabina.

Meldon sat down and poured out two cups.

"Come along," he said, "and keep me company."

Sabina sidled towards the table.

"I'm just after my tea," she said, "and I'd be ashamed to be sitting
down with a gentleman like yourself."

"Nonsense," said Meldon, "I want to talk to you, and I can't do that if
you're standing there in the middle of the floor so as I'd get a crick
in my neck trying to look at you. Sit down at once."

Sabina grinned sheepishly and sat down. Meldon drank off his cup of
tea at a draught, and poured out a second.

"Have you taken the advice I gave you the other day about your
cooking?" he asked.

"Is it making them things with olives?"

"It is."

"Well, I have not; for I wouldn't be fit."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Meldon. "Circumstances have arisen since I
last saw you which render it desirable that you should cook as badly as
possible during the next few days. There's a judge coming here this
evening."

"I heard Mr. Doyle saying that same," said Sabina.

"And he'll be expecting some sort of a dinner to-night."

"There's a chicken ready to go into the oven for him any minute."

"What you have to do," said Meldon, "is to see that he gets as bad a
dinner as possible, and a worse breakfast to-morrow morning."

"Bad, is it?"

"Uneatable," said Meldon. "Serve him up food that a pig wouldn't look
at. Can yo