Thus did Sir Savile, with a few strokes of his pen, make Jim famous. He need not have said anything of the kind, for the operation was carried out under his close personal supervision, but he was a big man, with a big mind, and he did not hesitate for a moment about crediting Jim with the entire success of the perilous undertaking. A tremor in Jim’s hand, a slip of his knife, and Lord Lingfield’s name would have been added to the roll of illustrious dead. But Jim’s hand did not tremble, nor did his knife slip, and so the happy bulletin went forth, and the world was glad because a good man had been saved to it. The proud lady who had spoken to Jim from her carriage on that fine September day was a different woman altogether when she thanked him for what he had done. The aristocratic bearing and the air of fine breeding were there, but her words were those of a wife sore stricken by watching and waiting. And following the mother came the girl Jim had also seen in the carriage on that September day--"the pretty girl." Jim blushed to the roots of his fair hair when the pretty girl added her gentle thanks to her mother’s. "Your fee, my boy," said Sir Savile, encountering Jim a little later in the library. The slip of paper he pushed into Mortimer’s hand was a cheque for a hundred pounds. "But, sir----" began Jim, who did not want a penny, so highly had he been paid in other ways. "Not a word. It’s my case, and I’m not down here for love, I can tell you. Take your cheque, boy, and buy your girl a necklace out of it. By the way, how are you getting on with Maybury’s nice daughter?" "She is to be married to-morrow," said Jim, turning to look at a picture. The great surgeon, however, did not miss the change in his voice. Jim went on looking at the picture, and kept his back to Sir Savile, who put his left hand--his right not being available--on his old pupil’s shoulder. "Have I touched a tender spot, lad? Well, cheer up! It’s a wide world, with a heap of other pretty girls in it!" And then he discreetly left Jim alone, and Jim studied the picture for some time longer, though he could not have told you afterwards whether it was a landscape or a portrait of a deceased noble earl of Lingfield. There was no fast train back to town till six, so Jim had perforce to remain on at Carhall. He did not see anything more of his grandfather, who left the house after affixing his signature to the bulletin. He made no inquiry for Jim, and Sir Savile looked perplexed when he saw that his old friend did not intend to budge an inch from the relentless attitude he had adopted towards his grandson. "And yet," mused the specialist, "he must feel as proud as Punch of the lad!"