"No defence? You are not going to confess you killed him?"
"No," with an angry flush, "but there are certain circumstances which prevent me from defending myself."
"What nonsense," retorted Calton, sharply, "as if any circumstances should prevent a man from saving his own life. But never mind, I like these objections, they make the nut harder to crack—but the kernel must be worth getting at. Now, you have to answer me certain questions."
"I won't promise."
"Well, we shall see," said the lawyer, cheerfully, taking out his note-book, and resting it on his knee. "First, where were you on the Thursday preceding the murder?"
"I can't tell you."
"Oh, yes, you can, my friend. You left St. Kilda, and came up to town by the eleven o'clock train."
"Eleven twenty," corrected Brian.
Calton smiled in a gratified manner as he noted this down.
"A little diplomacy is all that's required," he said mentally. "And where did you go then?" he added, aloud.
"I met Rolleston on the train, and we took a cab from the Flinders Street Station up to the Club."
"What club?"
"The Melbourne Club."
"Yes?" interrogatively.
"Rolleston went home, and I went into the Club and played cards for a time."
"When did you leave the Club?"
"A few minutes to one o'clock in the morning."
"And then, I suppose, you went home?"
"No; I did not."
"Then where did you go?"
"Down the street."
"Rather vague. I presume you mean Collins Street."
"Yes."
"You were going to meet some one, I suppose?"
"I never said so."
"Probably not; but young men don't wander about the streets at night without some object,"
"I was restless, and wanted a walk."
"Indeed! How curious you should prefer going into
