"the probabilities of the case," that the
conversation in the corridor really took place, that the spy's account was
correct, and that it was not impossible that in conversation with a
supposed revolutionist, Mr. Parnell may have used such language as to
leave the impression that he agreed with his interlocutor. Perhaps a more
exact way of putting it would be that the spy talked the Fenian doctrine
of physical force, and that Mr. Parnell listened.

IV

At last, on the fiftieth day (February 14, 1889), and not before, the
court reached the business that had led to its own creation. Three batches
of letters had been produced by the newspaper. The manager of the
newspaper told his story, and then the immediate purveyor of the letters
told his. Marvellous stories they were.

The manager was convinced from the beginning, as he ingenuously said,
quite independently of handwriting, that the letters were genuine. Why? he
was asked. Because he felt they were the sort of letters that Mr. Parnell
would be likely to write. He counted, not wholly without some reason, on
the public sharing this inspiration of his own indwelling light. The day
was approaching for the division on the Coercion bill. Every journalist,
said the manager, must choose his moment. He now thought the moment
suitable for making the public acquainted with the character of the
Irishmen. So, with no better evidence of authority than his firm faith
that it was the sort of letter that Mr. Parnell would be likely to write,
on the morning of the second reading of the Coercion bill, he launched the
fac-simile letter. In the early part of 1888 he received from the same
hand a second batch of letters, and a third batch a few days later. His
total payments amounted to over two thousand five hundred pounds. He still
asked no questions as to the source of these expensive documents. On the
contrary he particularly avoided the subject. So much for the cautious and
experienced man of business.

The natural course would have been now to carry the inquiry on to the
source of the letters. Instead of that, the prosecutors called an expert
in handwriting. The court expostulated. Why should they not hear at once
where the letters came from; and then it might be proper enough to hear
what an expert had to say? After a final struggle the prolonged tactics of
deferring the evil day, and prejudicing the case up to the eleventh hour,
were at last put to shame. The second of the