“That confounded cross-examination--so stupid--so unnecessary--put everybody out,” said Mr. Weekes, snappishly, at each mouthful. “Waste of public time--may well want more judges--ought to allow judges more power--better for everybody--save time and money--save youngsters from making fools of themselves.” “Also enable us to get in an extra round of golf on a Saturday,” said Mr. Topott, viewing the beef he had exchanged for the mutton with a deep suspicion. “But seriously, Weekes,” said he, “I don’t want you to leave me until they’ve returned their verdict. You can just let that _nisi prius_ business alone this afternoon, and stay with me. I have a presentiment that things might go wrong.” “Presentiment!” said Mr. Weekes impatiently. “Deuce take your presentiments! Waiter, bring me some red pepper.” “The fact is, I am frightened to death by that young fellow,” said Mr. Topott cheerfully. “I suppose you know who he is?” “I know what he is,” said Mr. Weekes incisively. “He is a confounded nuisance.” “He is the greatest player of Rugby football the game ever saw,” said Mr. Topott impressively. “Pity he didn’t stick to it,” said Mr. Weekes. “Better for him, better for us. But what has his football got to do with his advocacy?” “Well, I always think, you know,” said Mr. Topott modestly, “a man is all of a piece as you might say. If he is preëminent in one thing he will be preëminent in another.” “Not at all, my dear fellow,” said Mr. Weekes, breathing contradiction, a pastime that was dear to him. “It doesn’t follow in the least. A man may be supreme as a crossing-sweeper, but it does not follow that he would be equally great as a member of Parliament.” “I am only advancing a theory,” said Mr. Topott, more modestly than ever, “but I rather contend that it does. It is a matter of will-power. That to which his supremacy is due in one direction, if evoked in an equal degree in another direction will result in an equal supremacy. What I mean to say is, that it seems to me this truly great football-player has made up his mind to become a truly great advocate. And that is why I fear him.” “Moonshine,” said Mr. Weekes. “He is clever, I grant you; but football-playing and advocacy are not on all fours, as he will discover this afternoon very speedily when he comes to address a British jury.” “If you don’t mind my saying so,” said Mr. Topott, with a very apologetic air, “it struck me this morning that his football-playing and his advocacy were very much on all fours. They both struck me as belonging unmistakably to the man. I have, as I say, a presentiment that things might go wrong.” “Confound your presentiments, Topott! How can things go wrong? And why a man of your experience should funk a mere boy who has had none, I don’t know. He is certain to come an imperial crowner with the jury. There isn’t half a leg for him to stand on.”