I.MY brother, the clergyman, looked over my shoulder before I was aware of him, and discovered that the volume which completely absorbed my attention was a collection of famous Trials, published in a new edition and in a popular form.
He laid his finger on the Trial which I happened to be reading at the moment. I looked up at him; his face startled me. He had turned pale. His eyes were fixed on the open page of the book with an expression which puzzled and alarmed me.
“My dear fellow,” I said, “what in the world is the matter with you?”
He answered in an odd absent manner, still keeping his finger on the open page.
“I had almost forgotten,” he said. “And this reminds me.”
“Reminds you of what?” I asked. “You don’t mean to say you know anything about the Trial?”
“I know this,” he said
