"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."