man cut off his own head? I don't know."

O'Brien felt an insane universe crashing about his ears; but
the doctor sprang forward with impetuous practicality and pushed
back the wet white hair.

"Oh, there's no doubt it's Brayne," said the priest quietly.
"He had exactly that chip in the left ear."

The detective, who had been regarding the priest with steady
and glittering eyes, opened his clenched mouth and said sharply:
"You seem to know a lot about him, Father Brown."

"I do," said the little man simply. "I've been about with him
for some weeks. He was thinking of joining our church."

The star of the fanatic sprang into Valentin's eyes; he strode
towards the priest with clenched hands. "And, perhaps," he cried,
with a blasting sneer, "perhaps he was also thinking of leaving
all his money to your church."

"Perhaps he was," said Brown stolidly; "it is possible."

"In that case," cried Valentin, with a dreadful smile, "you
may indeed know a great deal about him. About his life and about
his--"

Commandant O'Brien laid a hand on Valentin's arm. "Drop that
slanderous rubbish, Valentin," he said, "or there may be more
swords yet."