“No cases to-day?” said Sir Timothy, coldly polite.
“Oh, yes, there were, several. I’ve finished them off.”
“But,” said Sir Timothy, “it’s only just the hour for beginning.”
Sir Timothy took out his watch. The hands were together at the hour of 12. He showed it to Mr. Courtney, who grinned. Sir Timothy scowled at him and turned fiercely to a police sergeant who stood by.
It is not the function of the Irish police to decide great questions of State. Their business is to enforce what the higher powers, for the time being, wish the law to be. In case of any uncertainty about which power is the higher, the police occupy the uncomfortable position of neutrals. The sergeant was not quite sure whether Sir Timothy or Mr. Courtney were the more influential man. He answered cautiously.
“There’s some,” he said, “who do be saying that it’s one o’clock at the present time. There’s others--and I’m not saying they’re wrong--who are of opinion that it’s half-past twelve, or about that. There’s them--and some of the most respectable people is with them there--that says it’s 2 p.m. If I was to be put on my oath this minute, I’d find it mortal hard to say what time it was.”
“By Act of Parliament,” said Mr. Courtney, “its 2 p.m.”
“In the matter of an Act of Parliament,” said the sergeant, “I wouldn’t like to be contradicting your honour.”
Sir Timothy turned on his heel and walked away. The victory was with Mr. Courtney, but not because he had an Act of Parliament behind him. Nobody in Ireland pays much attention to Acts of Parliament. He made his point successfully, because the police did not like to contradict him. From that day on Sir Timothy made no attempt to take his seat on the Magistrates’ Bench in the Court House.
Late in the summer Sir Archibald Chesney visited the neighbourhood. Sir Archibald is, of course, a great man. He is one of the people who are supposed to govern Ireland. He does not actually do so. Nobody could. But he dispenses patronage, which, after all, is one of the most important functions of any Government. It was, for instance, in Sir Archibald’s power to give Mr. Courtney a pleasant and well-paid post in Dublin, to remove him from the uncongenial atmosphere of Connaught, and set him in an office in the Lower Castle Yard. There, and in a house in Ailesbury Road--houses in Ailesbury Road are most desirable--Mr. Courtney could mingle in really intellectual society.