“You haven’t a ghost of a case against Flanagan,” he said. “The judge won’t listen to a story like that. If you take my advice you’ll go straight home and make it up with Flanagan. You’ll simply waste your money if you go into court.”
Mr. Madden, it will be seen, was a man of principle. He made his living out of other people’s quarrels, but he gave honest advice to his clients. He was also a man of wide knowledge of West of Ireland farmers. He knew perfectly well that his advice would not be taken.
“I’ve the money to pay for it,” said Joyce, “and I’ll have the law of Patrick Joseph Flanagan if it costs me the last penny I own. If your honour doesn’t like the case sure I can go to someone else.”
Mr. Madden, though a man of principle, was not quixotic.
“Very well,” he said. “I’ll manage your case for you; but I warn you fairly the judge will give it against you.”
“He might not,” said Joyce. “In the latter end he might not.”
“He will,” said Mr. Madden, “unless——”
He was watching Joyce carefully as he spoke. The man’s face had an expression of cunning and self-satisfaction.
“Unless,” Mr. Madden went on, “you’ve something up your sleeve that you haven’t told me yet.”
Joyce winked solemnly.