Really, we ought to inform the police
what has happened and have him arrested before he can do any further
mischief. Penal servitude for life would about fit the case."
Van Sneck was jealously guarded by Heritage and Bell for the next few
hours. He awoke the next morning little the worse for the operation. His
eyes were clear now; the restless, eager look had gone from them.
"Where am I?" he demanded. "What has happened?"
Bell explained briefly. As he spoke his anxiety passed away. He saw that
Van Sneck was following quite intelligently and rationally.
"I remember coming here," the Dutchman said. "I can't recall the rest
just now. I feel like a man who is trying to piece the fragments of a
dream together."
"You'll have it all right in an hour or two," Bell said, with an
encouraging smile. "Meanwhile your breakfast is ready. Yes, you can smoke
afterwards if you like. And then you shall tell me all about Reginald
Henson. As a matter of fact, we know all about it now."
"Oh," Van Sneck said, blankly. "You do, eh?"
"Yes, even to the history of the second Rembrandt, and the reason why
Henson stabbed you and gave you that crack over the head.
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