"Don't call me that," said Meldon; "I'm non-political. Nothing on earth would induce me to mix myself up with any party." "And you," the judge went on, "after comparing me in the most flattering manner to the poet Milton, tell me that my life won't be safe in Ballymoy. I'm inclined to think that the best thing I can do is to go and find out the truth for myself." "If it was simply a question of murder," said Meldon, "I should strongly advise you to go on and see the thing through; but what we have in mind is something infinitely worse. Isn't it, O'Donoghue?" "It is," said the doctor; "far worse." "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." "It was only last winter," said Meldon, "that Mr. Simpkins wanted to prosecute Doyle on account of the condition of his drains. You probably don't know Simpkins; but if you did, you'd understand that he's not the kind of man to take drastic action unless the drains were pretty bad." "And they're worse since," said O'Donoghue. "It's extremely kind of you," said the judge, "to have come all this way to warn me, and of course if I knew Simpkins I might, as you say, act differently. But I think, on the whole, I'll go on and risk it. If I do get a septic throat or anything of the kind I shall send at once for Dr. O'Donoghue; and I shall ask you, Mr. Meldon, to write an obituary notice for the papers in case I succumb. I am sure you'd do it well, and you could put in all you said about Delilah and Mrs. Lorimer. I shan't mind once I'm buried." "You won't be able to say afterwards," said Meldon, "that you were not fairly warned. We've done our duty whatever happens."