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Updated: June 27, 2025
She was a little uncertain as to whether she ought to find comfort or fresh cause of anxiety in the remoteness of Ballymoy from civilisation. On the one hand, scandals of a literary kind and Lady Hawkesby did not suspect Miss King of giving occasion for anything worse are unlikely in the wilds of Connacht.
The other was a slightly older man, dressed in a seedy grey suit and a pair of surprisingly bright yellow gaiters. "Sir Gilbert Hawkesby, I presume?" said Meldon. "Yes," said the judge; "I am Sir Gilbert Hawkesby." "This," said Meldon, "is my friend Dr.
Sir Gilbert Hawkesby had the reputation of being a just and able judge, a man of fine intellect, great vigour, and immense determination of character. On the bench he looked the part which popular imagination had given him to play. His eyes were described as "steely" by a lady journalist, who had occasion to watch him during the sensational trial of Mrs. Lorimer.
The day of the judge's departure had arrived, and he sat with Lady Hawkesby after luncheon, waiting for the carriage which was to take him to the station. "You'll see Millicent, of course," said Lady Hawkesby. "Be sure to keep her out of mischief if you can." "I don't suppose," said Sir Gilbert, "that Millicent can get into any mischief in Ballymoy." Lady Hawkesby sighed.
She had accompanied Sir Gilbert Hawkesby to the river where he intended to fish. "She's gone with Sir Gilbert Hawkesby!" said Meldon. "Yes, sir." Meldon turned away and walked slowly down the avenue. When he reached the tennis court he propped his bicycle up against a tree and took out his pipe.
He had no hesitation, as Lady Hawkesby, the butler, and the barristers knew, in attacking the most defenceless people when the mood was on him, and he had used exceptionally strong language to Sabina Gallagher. It took him on this occasion longer than usual to recover his self-possession. He gave no kiss in response to his niece's affectionate salutation.
"As a matter of fact any right-minded and really upright judge, such as we have every reason to suppose this Sir Gilbert Hawkesby is, would take a special pride in trying his own niece. He'd like to hang her if he could, always supposing that he felt sure that she was guilty.
Sir Gilbert Hawkesby was up to his knees in the river when Meldon came upon him. He was throwing a fly over a most likely pool and had already been rewarded by a rise. On the bank lay a remarkably fine salmon, at least twenty pounds in weight, which he had caught. He was in a very cheerful mood, and felt kindly towards every one in the world. "Don't let me interrupt you," said Meldon.
The barristers who practised their art in his court knew it, and always gave up pressing objectionable points on his notice when they recognised the early signs of approaching indignation. The butler and the barristers, not Lady Hawkesby, admitted that the judge's anger was invariably justified. He never lost control of himself without some good excuse.
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