"Is it," said the judge, "high treason? That's the only crime I know which the law regards as more malignant than murder. The penalties are a little obsolete at present, for nobody has ventured to commit the crime for a great many years; but if you like I'll look the subject up when I go home and let you know."
"We're not talking about crime," said Meldon, "but drains. Doyle's drains."
"I beg your pardon," said the judge. "Did you say drains?"
"Yes," said Meldon distinctly. "Drains—Doyle's drains. The drains of the house you mean to stop in. I needn't tell you what drains mean. Blood-poisoning, typhoid, septic throats, breakings out in various parts of your body, and a very painful kind of death. For although O'Donoghue will do his best for you in the way of mitigating your sufferings he can't undertake to save your life."
"I'm pretty tough," said the judge, "and I'm paying a good price for my fishing. I think I'll face the drains."
"I don't expect that you quite realise how bad those drains are. Does he, O'Donoghue?"
"He does not," said the doctor.
"Then you tell him," said Meldon. "As a medical man you'll put it much more convincingly than I can."
O'Donoghue cleared his throat.
"I've no doubt," said the judge, "that you can make out a pretty bad case against those drains; but I'm going on to Ballymoy to catch salmon if they're twice as rotten as they are."