"I was not." Kennedy was too fiercely angry to answer in more words than were absolutely required. "I am sorry to say, Mr Kennedy, you have not cleared yourself from the great disgrace of giving an invitation, though you supposed that it would be made the opportunity for perpetrating an infamous piece of mischief. Can you throw no more light on the subject?" "None." "Will you bring the decanter out of which Lord De Vayne drank?" said one of the seniors after a pause, and with an intense belief in the acuteness of the suggestion. "I don't see what good it will do, but I will order my gyp to carry it here if you wish." "Do so, sir. And let me add," said the Master, "that a little more respectfulness of manner would be becoming in your present position." Kennedy's lip curled, and without answer he left the room to fetch the wine, grimly chuckling at the effect which the mixture would produce on Mr Norton's fastidious taste. When he reached his rooms, he stumbled against the table in his hurry, and upset a little glass dish which held his pencils, one of which rolled away under the fender. In lifting the fender to pick it up, a piece of paper caught his eye, which the bedmaker in cleaning the room had swept out of sight in the morning. He looked at it, and saw in legible characters, "Laudanum, Poison." It was the label which had been loosely tied on Bruce's phial, and which had slipped off as he hurried it into his pocket. He read it, and as the horrid truth flashed across his mind, stood for a moment stupefied and dumb. His plan was instantly formed. Instead of returning to the conclave of Seniors he ran straight off to the chemist's, which was close by Saint Werner's. "Do you know anything of this label?" he said, thrusting it into the chemist's hands. "Yes," said the man, after looking at it for a moment; "it is the label of a bottle of laudanum which I sold yesterday morning to Mr Bruce of Saint Werner's." Without a word, Kennedy snatched it from him, and rushed back to the Seniority, who were already beginning to wonder at his long absence. He threw down the piece of paper before. Mr Norton, who handed it to the Master. "I found that, sir, on the floor of my room." "And you know nothing of it?" "Yes. It belongs to a bottle purchased yesterday by Bruce." Amazement and horror seemed to struggle in the minds of the old clergymen and lecturers as they sat at the table. "We must send instantly for this young man," said Mr Norton; and in ten minutes Bruce entered, pale indeed, but in a faultless costume, with a bow of easy grace, and a smile of polite recognition towards such of the board as he personally knew. He was totally unaware of what had been going on during Kennedy's cross-examination. "Mr Bruce," said Mr Norton, to whom they all seemed gladly to resign the task of discovering the truth, "do you know anything of the cause of Lord De Vayne's sudden attack of illness last night?" "I, sir? Certainly not."