When Robert returned to the inn where he was staying, there were some people staying there who gave him a skeptical look as they sat around him. Those looks grew more intense and even more quizzical when they saw him accept and look at an elegantly written invitation to _______ House. Robert finished his bowl of soup, and stepped outside. With his prudent management of resources, he had managed to save enough money that it was no problem procuring a short taxi ride in a local carriage to the address in question, where he was informed by his driver that this is where the chief justice of the state supreme court happened to live. Grateful for the information, Robert tipped his cap at the driver and exited when he had arrived at the proper house, knocking at the door.

After some wait, he was invited in by a well-dressed Negro servant. He walked into the house and was greeted by the judge he had been familiar with over the course of the last couple of days or so in the trial.

“Please sit,” Judge McNeal said to Robert, and not being a particularly disagreeable person, Robert did so.

“Would you care for some iced tea?” the judge requested.

“Certainly,” Robert replied.

“Many British people resent this particular concoction of tea, ice water, and sugar to be considered as tea in the same sense of the hot drink that they are more familiar with,” the judge said meaningfully.

“I am not one of those people,” Robert replied. “You do forget that though I am indeed of a British background and was born in Yorkshire to a family that had once been involved in the tea trade in India, I grew up in the colonies and have spent enough time around here to have developed a taste for iced tea.”

“And yet you have not developed a taste for all aspects of local culture the way you appreciate sweet iced tea,” the judge continued.

“Not all people are amenable to all aspects of a culture. There are naturally some things that we may find more appealing than others,” Robert said.

“Surely you know that the place of agricultural laborers is low all over the world, especially for those who grow cash crops,” the judge said.

“I am not so naive as to think that the rice, sugar, or tea I eat or that the cotton I wear comes from people who are treated as the kings of the earth. In all the parts of the world I have ever known, those who owned property or those who organized and controlled labor have always viewed themselves as superior to those who did the work,” Robert said.

“And as you said, you too are from those classes that consider themselves to be born to rule,” the Judge helpfully added.

“But being born to rule can mean a great many things,” Robert said.

“How do you conceive of it?” the judge asked.

“In one sense, at least, all people, all men and women, are born to rule. Did not God say in the first chapter of Genesis that all people are to have dominion over the beasts of the land and the fish of the seas? We are all born to rule as human beings created in the image and likeness of the Most High God,” Robert said.

“I dare say that would not be a popular message in the congregations of this city,” the judge commented.

“Why would that matter? It is not the job of people to speak what is smooth or what is popular or what corresponds to what people already think. It is the job of people like lawyers and writers and especially men of the cloth to speak what is true. They are not to do so disagreeably or to deliberately attack and inflame their listeners, but they are to bring the truth before people,” Robert said.

“A great many people would be amused to hear that you consider lawyers to be truth tellers,” the judge said.

“This is not to say that all people who have the responsibility to bring the truth before people do so honorably or faithfully, but merely to say that it is a responsibility that all share. A doctor’s job is to tell the truth, so far as he understands it, of the health of a patient to that patient’s attention so that he may live and live well. A lawyer speaks the truth about the facts and laws of a case so that people may decide in matters of life and freedom according to the truth. A clergy tells the truth, to the extent that they know it, of the Word of God and of matters of the judgment of the soul,” Robert said. “The fact that such things can be done unfaithfully does not in any way reduce the responsibility that these people have to act according to the truth and to convey that truth to others.”

“So how do you believe that people respond differently to feeling that they are born to rule? Surely you feel born to rule as much as most of the people around here do,” the judge asked pointedly.

“My father was born the son of an English viscount, but he was not the oldest son, and so while I was born to rule in the sense of coming from a noble house, I was not born to rule in the sense of being born to inherit the title. I was raised from youth on the ethic of serving the empire, and on taking advantage of the gifts and talents and background I had in being more useful in the service of others. I think that is a common response to feeling born to rule, and that is obligated to serve,” Robert said. “There are, of course, many people who consider themselves born to rule and view that as being born to dominate and control others, but that was not a part of my own upbringing, personally speaking.”

“You do not think that you feel comfortable dealing with those who feel that they were born to dominate other people?” the judge asked.

“I find, personally speaking, that those who feel that they were born to rule and dominate others have the hardest trouble accepting the rule and authority of others. Instead of looking for ways to be of service for others, one has resentful hostility to anyone who will not bow down or obey you with a smile, and that is a more troublesome way to behave. There is no one who can escape, at some level, being under some sort of authority or being accountable to someone, and so believing that one has a birthright to dominate and control only leads us to be harsh and demanding to those whom we feel are beneath us and rebellious and disloyal to those who are in fact and in law over us,” Robert replied.

At this there was a brief silence as both men drank their iced tea and pondered over what had been said.

“You are aware, of course, that the British have no future in Charleston,” the judge said, abruptly.

“How do you suppose that to be relevant to anything? We deal with things as they are now,” Robert replied.

“That is easy for you to say, but that is not the way that I have to deal with things,” the judge said.

“What is the context you are speaking of?” Robert said. “Whatever one has to do as a judge should be based on the circumstances of the case at hand. If we think about the larger implications of what we are doing we will often be too paralyzed by fear to do what needs to be done to ensure justice here and now as best as we are able.”

“You may go and serve the empire anywhere you are able to,” the judge replied, somewhat shortly. “I am a member of this community and will be here after you and the soldiers leave.”

Robert dimly perceived what he was about, but decided not to provoke. “You conceive, then, that any decision you make will have to ensure that you have a future within the city of Charleston and among its people, with all of their views and oft-stated positions,” he said.

“Exactly. You may speak of the right of Britons under the law, and may conceive of people being equal in the eyes of God, but I have to live among people for whom that is an anathema,” the judge said.

“I can understand how that would be difficult in such a case as this,” Robert said, helpfully. “You feel as if there is a right and just thing to do according to the facts and law of this case, but also know that giving justice to someone who is so universally feared and hated within your city will have detrimental results to your own career and well-being.”

“Now you begin to see it,” the judge said.

“Is there no way to provide for the well-being of the community at large, whose fears, however ill-founded in fact, cannot be justly neglected by those who govern, to be provided for without causing injustice to someone who has been unjustly accused of a crime?” Robert asked.

“You are asking me to find a way to both provide justice in the particular case while also showing myself responsive to the concerns of the community?” the judge asked. “You care how this community thinks?”

“It is not my own community personally,” Robert allowed, “but all the same, I do not think it is safe or just to ignore the feelings of a community. Those feelings may be unjust, but they govern us regardless of whether they are just or unjust.”

The judge thought about this somewhat, pondering to himself. “I did not consider that you cared what people in local communities thought, being a man of empire.”

“It is easy to misjudge someone because of the side that they are on or the uniform that they wear,” Robert replied. “If you have served well enough in enough places, you realize that everywhere you go you find a local community. That community is not always local on account of living in one place, but I dare say that Westminster is as local a community as Charleston is, in its own way, with the sorts of rivalries and jockeying for power and influence, and that Whitehall is not too different from Philadelphia or New York in that way either.”

“You think that people are predisposed to think of whatever circle they are in as being their local identity and the place where they operate?” the judge asked.

“Yes, I think that wherever people operate, that local world is the place of importance to them, their community, their neighborhood,” Robert replied. “That is, at least, what I have seen in my own travels.”

“I like the way that you think,” the judge said. “I will have much to think about tonight.”

“Shall I leave you to your pondering then?” Robert said.

“That would be very kind of you to do so,” the judge said.

And with that, Robert walked outside the house and made his way back to the inn. The conversation had been a revealing one for him as well, as he had some sort of idea of the space that the judge had to occupy. From what he could gather, at least, the judge was trying to find a way that he could accept the motion for summary judgment that Robert had made yesterday without inflaming the hostility of the people. He could not think of many ways that could be done, and the obvious way that could be done was through ordering Harrison to leave Charleston, and perhaps order that he leave Charleston as well, having demonstrated himself of too egalitarian of sentiments from the local community. Robert could not see how Harrison could have been ably defended by someone who did not take his personhood and the importance of justice to the lowly seriously, but that was neither here nor there at this point. As there was still plenty of daylight, Robert rushed along towards the jail, so that he could see his client and give him some sort of warning for what was likely to occur.