"Arnold," he said abruptly, "do you believe in presentiments?"
"It depends whether they affect me favourably or the reverse," I answered carelessly. "You Scotchmen are all so superstitious."
"You may call it superstition," Mabane continued. "Everything of the sort which an ignorant man cannot understand he calls superstition. But if you like, I will tell you something which is surely going to happen. I will tell you what I have seen."
I leaned forward in my chair, and looked curiously into Allan's face. His hard, somewhat commonplace features seemed touched for the moment by some transfiguring fire. His keen, blue-grey eyes were as soft and luminous as a girl's. He had actually the appearance of a man who sees a little way beyond the border. Even then I could not take him seriously.
"Speak, Sir Prophet!" I exclaimed, with a little laugh. "Let my eyes also be touched with fire. Let me see what you see."
Mabane showed no sign of annoyance. He looked at me composedly.
"Do not be a fool, Arnold," he said. "You may believe or disbelieve, but some day you will know that the things which I have in my mind are true."
I think that I was a little bewildered. I realized now what at first I had been inclined to doubt—that Mabane was wholly in earnest. Unconsciously my attitude towards him changed. It is hard to mock a man who believes in himself.
"Go ahead, then, Allan," I said quietly. "Remember that you have told me nothing yet."
Mabane turned towards me. He spoke slowly. His face was serious—almost solemn.