I alone am guilty of this murder; by my own act, or by the act of Heaven or Hell, I know not."
A gentleman rose in the court; he sent a message to the Judge, whispered to a constable, and I was dragged out of the house. I heard a murmur of excited voices and a whisper.
"'Tis that poor fellow Bulger; they say his brain is turned since he had his cataleptic attack."
I was forced along by my doctor, his arm linked in mine. Calling a cab, he put me inside, and was about to follow, when a friend of his came up and spoke to him.
"Oh, yes," he answered, "I thought I'd find him there. He woke to consciousness just as Dr. Gill and myself were speaking of young Varen's death, and he seemed to get it into his head that he was the murderer. He escaped from the house last night, but from his ravings I thought it probable I should find him at court to-day."
I heard no more. Silently opening the door furthest from the speaker, I slipped out, and in the dusk of the evening made my escape.
