cant of a duty higher than the legal one is merely ridiculous."
The ex-president of the Oxford Union and his friend, whose youth rendered them sternly critical, were following Northcote's every word with the closest attention.
"He's got a brogue you could cut with a knife," said the ex-president, with an air of resenting a personal injury.
"You are wrong," said his friend, with an absence of compromise. "He was at school with me."
By this time the advocate had cut into the heart of his subject. In a few swift yet unemphasized sentences he had proved the existence of a doubt in the case. He pressed home the significance of that fact with a power that was so perfectly disciplined that it did not appear to exert itself, yet it carried a qualm into the camp of the enemy. He was content to indicate that the doubt was there, and with apparent magnanimity differentiated it from that which in his view must ever accompany circumstantial evidence. Every gesture that he used in the demonstration of its presence, each vibration of a voice which had become marvellously flexible, was a living witness of the dynamic quality he had in his possession.
"He will be wise to let it go at that," was the opinion of Mr. Weekes. "He has done quite as well as was to have been expected. We shall just get home, and for a beginner he will have done very nicely."
"It wouldn't surprise me if he is only just starting," said Mr. Topott mournfully.
"I have done now, gentlemen," Northcote con-
