The judge, not understanding what he says, orders his removal; his
friends, thinking him distracted, persuade him to be quiet while the
utmost sentence--twenty years--is given. On hearing this, Cyril, with a
loud cry, falls senseless. He remains in delirium many weeks. A pathetic
farewell between Henry and Lilian, who is the only believer in his
innocence, and who renews her promise to him, closes the first part.

The tragedy, faintly foreshadowed from the first line, and gradually
developed from Cyril's self-righteousness and irrepressible joy in
Alma's unguarded betrayal of unconscious passion, has darkened the whole
story. Sin has engendered sin. Cyril's noble purpose to devote himself
entirely to his high calling, and be worthy of it, has become pitiless
ambition.

His self-respect, spiritual pride and egoism; his ready tact, social
charm, and power of psychological analysis, subtle sophistry and
self-deception; his warmest affection, disguised self-love; his finest
qualities perverted lead to his lowest fall.

His weak and belated attempt to right Alma's wrong has killed her
father. Alma's desecrated love has turned to fierce idolatry, laying
waste Lilian's happiness, and working Henry's complete ruin. Cyril's
cowardice has delayed clearing his friend till it is too late to save
him.

Not poppy, not mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world

will ever medicine again to him that sweet sleep he had before his
guilt.