CHAPTER II.
DAVID HUME'S STORY Brett closed the book with a snap.
"What good purpose can it serve at this time to reopen the miserable story ?" he asked.
Curiously enough, Hume paid no heed to the question.

His lips quivered, his nostrils twitched, and his eyes shot strange gleams.

He caught the back of his chair with both hands in a grasp that tried to squeeze the tough oak.
"What else have you written there ?" he said, and Brett could not help but admire his forced composure.
"Nothing of any material importance.

You were arrested, after an interval of some days, as the result of a coroner's warrant.

You explained that you had a vivid dream, in which you saw your cousin stabbed by a stranger whom you did not know, whose face even you never saw.