have been at least expected, foreknown. Thus we convict him of
expecting it. And then, by an independent line of deduction, we can
also discover the _means_ by which he expected it to occur. It is clear
that he did not expect it to occur when it did by the hand of Maude
Cibras--for this is proved by his knowledge that she had left the
neighbourhood, by his evidently genuine astonishment at the sight of
the closed window, and, above all, by his truly morbid desire to
establish a substantial, an irrefutable _alibi_ for himself by going to
Plymouth on the day when there was every reason to suppose she would do
the deed--that is, on the 8th, the day of the earl's invitation. On the
fatal night, indeed, the same morbid eagerness to build up a clear
_alibi_ is observable, for he surrounds himself with a cloud of
witnesses in the upper chamber. But that, you will admit, is not nearly
so perfect a one as a journey, say, to Plymouth would have been. Why
then, expecting the death, did he not take some such journey? Obviously
because on _this_ occasion his personal presence was necessary. When,
_in conjunction_ with this, we recall the fact that during the
intrigues with Cibras the lectures were discontinued, and again resumed
immediately on her unlooked-for departure, we arrive at the conclusion
that the means by which Lord Pharanx's death was expected to occur was
the personal presence of Randolph _in conjunction_ with the political
speeches, the candidature, the class, the apparatus.

'But though he stands condemned of foreknowing, and being in some sort
connected with, his father's death, I can nowhere find any indication
of his having personally accomplished it, or even of his ever having
had any such intention. The evidence is evidence of complicity--and
nothing more. And yet--and yet--even of _this_ we began by acquitting
him unless we could discover, as I said, some strong, adequate,
altogether irresistible motive for such complicity. Failing this, we