Henson nodded in a sleepy fashion; his eyes were closed now till the others had left the room. Once he was alone he was alert and vigorous again.
"Ten minutes," he muttered, "say, a quarter of an hour. A touch, a spot of water, and the thing is done. And I can never be found out."
CHAPTER LII
PUTTING THE LIGHT OUT
Once the trio were in the operating-room Bell gave one rapid glance at Heritage. But the latter seemed to have forgotten all his fears. There was an alert air about him; he was quiet and steady. There was something of the joy of battle in his eyes.
"Now go and fetch Van Sneck in," Bell said.
The patient came at length. Everything was ready. Van Sneck murmured something and looked vaguely about him, like a man suddenly aroused from a deep sleep. But he obeyed quite willingly when Bell commanded him to get on the table. A moment or two later and he was gone under the influence of the ether administered by Bell.
A case of glittering instruments lay on the table. The strong electric light was switched on and hung just over the head of the unconscious patient.
"You hold the sponge," Bell whispered to David. "There will be very little blood. I like to have a man with me who has coolness and courage. Oh, here is the spot. Feel the depression of the skull, Heritage. That is where the pressure lies, and no larger than a pea."
Heritage nodded, without reply. He took up the knife, there was a flash of steel in the brilliant light and a sudden splash of blood. There was a scrape, scrape that jolted horribly on David's nerves, followed by a convulsive movement of Van Sneck's body.