"Well, for a variety of reasons. First of all, Heritage is an old friend of mine, and I take a great interest in his case. I am going to give him a chance to recover his lost confidence, and he is a splendid operator. Besides, I want to know why Henson has gone out of his way to be so kind to Heritage. And, finally, Heritage was the family doctor of the Carfax people you just mentioned before he went to practise in London. Let me once get Heritage round again, and I shall be greatly disappointed if he does not give us a good deal of valuable information regarding Reginald Henson." "And Cross. What about him?" "Oh, Cross will do as I ask him. Without egotism, he knows that the case is perfectly safe in my hands. And if we care to look after Van Sneck, why, there will be one the less burden in the hospital. What a funny business it is! Van Sneck gets nearly done to death under this roof, and he comes back here to be cured again." David yawned sleepily as he rose. "Well, I've had enough of it for to-night," he said. "I'm dog-tried, and I must confess to feeling sick of the Hensons and Littimers, and all their works." "Including their friend, Miss Ruth Gates?" Bell said, slily. "Still, they have made pretty good use of you, and I expect you will be glad to get back to your work again. At the same time, you need not trouble your head for plots for many a day." David admitted that the situation had its compensations, and went off to bed. Bell met him the next day as fresh as if he had had a full night's rest, and vouchsafed the information that the patient was as well as possible. He was cold and no longer feverish. "In fact, he is ready for the operation at any time," he said. "I shall get Heritage here to dinner, and we shall operate afterwards with electric light. It will be a good steadier for Heritage's nerves, and the electric light is the best light of all for this business. If you have got a few yards of spare flex from your reading-lamp I'll rig the thing up without troubling your electrician. I can attach it to your study lamp." "I've got what you want," David said. "Now come in to breakfast." There was a pile of letters on the table, and on the top a telegram. It was a long message, and Bell watched Steel's face curiously. "From Littimer Castle," he suggested. "Am I right?" "As usual," David cried. "My little scheme over that diamond star has worked magnificently. Miss Chris tells me that she has--by Jove, Bell, just listen--she has solved the problem of the cigar-case; she has found out the whole thing. She wants me to meet her in London to-morrow, when she will tell me everything." CHAPTER XLVI LITTIMER'S EYES ARE OPENED