XXI
A PREJUDICE
"True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain
Begot of nothing but vain phantasy."
FOR one moment I sat a prey to superstitious horror; then, my natural incredulity asserting itself, I looked up and remarked:
"You say that all this took place the night previous to the actual occurrence?"
He bowed his head. "For a warning," he declared.
"But you did not seem to take it as such?"
"No; I am subject to horrible dreams. I thought but little of it in a superstitious way till I looked next day upon Mr. Leavenworth’s dead body."
"I do not wonder you behaved strangely at the inquest."
"Ah, sir," he returned, with a slow, sad smile; "no one knows what I suffered in my endeavors not to tell more than I actually knew, irrespective of my dream, of this murder and the manner of its accomplishment."
"You believe, then, that your dream foreshadowed the manner of the murder as well as the fact?"
"I do."
"It is a pity it did not go a little further, then, and tell us how the assassin escaped from, if not how he entered, a house so securely fastened."
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