"I'd prefer the brown one," said Meldon, "if it's all the same to you. I hate the taste of plate-powder. I don't think it's likely that Sabina has been wasting her time polishing your silver, but you never can tell what a girl like that would do." "In the brown teapot," shouted Doyle. "And set out a cup and saucer on the kitchen table--" "Two cups," said Meldon. "I want Sabina to join me, so that I'll be sure of getting her in a good temper." "Two cups," shouted Doyle. "And when you have that done be off and clean yourself as quick as you can, for the Reverend Mr. Meldon will be down in a minute to take tea with you. If there isn't a pot of jam down below--and it's likely you have it ate if there is--go into the shop and ask for one. Is it strawberry you'd like, Mr. Meldon?" "That or raspberry," said Meldon. "I don't care which. And now I want to say a word or two to you." "Come inside," said Doyle. "There isn't a soul in the bar, and maybe you'd like a drop of something before your tea." "I would not. You know very well, Doyle, that I never touch whisky before my meals, especially when I've any business to do; and you ought to be ashamed of yourself for offering it to me." Doyle pushed forward a chair, selected another for himself, and sat down opposite Meldon. "Is it about the judge that's coming this evening that you wanted to speak to me?" "It is," said Meldon. "I was thinking it might be. When you asked for the loan of my bicycle this morning, and told me that you and the doctor was off to Donard in a hurry, I made full sure it was him you were after. What have you done with the doctor?" "He'll be here in a few minutes," said Meldon, "and when he comes he'll give you some chloride of lime and a bottle of Condy's Fluid. You're to sprinkle the lime on the floor of the judge's bedroom, and to damp the sheets on his bed with a solution of Condy's Fluid. O'Donoghue will give you exact directions about the quantities." "And what would that be for?" "The judge wants it done," said Meldon, "and that ought to be enough for you." "I was reading a bit in the paper one day about what they call the Christian Science. I suppose, now, he'll be one of them?" "No," said Meldon. "He's not. If you'd read a little more carefully you'd have understood that no Christian Scientist would walk on the same side of the street as a bottle of Condy's Fluid. The principal article of their creed is that there are no such things as germs, consequently it's mere waste of time trying to kill them. And as Condy's Fluid exists chiefly for the purpose of killing germs, it strikes the Christian Scientist as an immoral compound. I don't know exactly what religion your judge professes, but one thing is clear from his insisting on Condy's Fluid, he's not a Christian Scientist."