of the officials, whose logic is probably far in advance of their
imagination. But supposing we can adduce one act, undoubtedly actuated
by evil intention on the part of Randolph--one act in which his father
certainly did _not_ participate--what follows next? Why, that we revert
at once to the view of the hasty reasoner, and conclude that _all_ the
other acts in the same relation were actuated by the same evil motive;
and having reached that point, we shall be unable longer to resist the
conclusion that those of them in which his father had a share _might_
have sprung from a like motive in _his_ mind also; nor should the mere
obvious impossibility of such a condition of things have even the very
least influence on us, as thinkers, in causing us to close our mind
against its logical possibility. I therefore make the inference, and
pass on.

'Let us then see if we can by searching find out any absolutely certain
deviation from right on the part of Randolph, in which we may be quite
sure that his father was not an abettor. At eight on the night of the
murder it is dark; there has been some snow, but the fall has
ceased--how long before I know not, but so long that the interval
becomes sufficiently appreciable to cause remark. Now the party going
round the house come on two tracks of feet meeting at an angle. Of one
track we are merely told that it was made by the small foot of a woman,
and of it we know no more; of the other we learn that the feet were big
and the boots clumsy, and, it is added, the marks were _half
obliterated by the snow_. Two things then are clear: that the persons
who made them came from different directions, and probably made them at
different times. That, alone, by the way, may be a sufficient answer to
your question as to whether Cibras was in collusion with the
"burglars." But how does Randolph behave with reference to these
tracks? Though he carries the lantern, he fails to perceive the