a coach and brought here in the ambulance. Unless I am greatly mistaken,
that is Hatherly Bell with you."

"The same," Bell said, cheerfully. "I recollect you in Edinburgh. So some
of Palmer's patients have come to grief. Most of his special cases used
to pass through my hands."

"I've got one here to-night who recollects you perfectly well," said
Cross. "He's got a dislocated shoulder, but otherwise he is doing well.
Got a mania that he's a doctor who murdered a patient."

"Electric light anything to do with the story?" Bell asked, eagerly.

"That's the man. Seems to have a wonderfully brilliant intellect if you
can only keep him off that topic. He spotted you in North Street
yesterday, and seemed wonderfully disappointed to find you had nothing
whatever to do with this institution."

"If he is not asleep," Bell suggested, "and you have no objection--"

Cross nodded and opened the gate. Before passing inside Bell took the
rolled-up Rembrandt from his deep breast-pocket and handed it to David.

"Take care of this for me," he whispered. "I'm going inside. I've dropped
upon an old case that interested me very much years ago, and I'd like to
see my patient again. See you in the morning, I expect. Good-night."

David nodded in reply and went his way. It was intensely quiet and still
now; the weary loafer at the outside hospital seat had disappeared.
There was nobody to be seen anywhere as David placed his key in the