ave further bother; also another
dose which he brought to the hotel. Then he insisted on leaving a bottle
out of which I am to take a dose every three hours on the journey home.
I did not know old Dick was such a crank."

"Probably it is the result of sitting in a tub and being scrubbed with a
dish-cloth. Did he know you were coming here?"

"Yes; he picked up my pocket-book, found your address, and made a note
of it. He said he should probably look us up at about ten o'clock this
evening. I told him I might be here pretty late. I did not know you were
going to be so kind as to fetch my things from the hotel and put me up.
You really are most--"

"Delighted, my dear fellow. Honoured!" said Aubrey Treherne. "Now tell
me about the finding of the 'cello."

"I interviewed the publishers, and I hope it is all right. But they
seemed rather hurried and vague, and anxious to get me off the premises.
No doubt I shall fare better in courteous little Holland. Then I went on
to Zimmermann's to choose Helen's organ. I found exactly what she
wanted, and at the price she wished. On my way downstairs I found myself
in a large room full of violoncellos--dozens of them. They were hanging
in glass cases; they were ranged along the top. Then I suddenly felt
impelled to look to the top of the highest cabinet, and there I saw the
Infant! I knew instantly that that was the 'cello I _must_ have. It
seemed mine already. It seemed as if it always had been mine. I asked to
be shown some violoncellos. They produced two or three, in which I took
no interest. Then I said: 'Get down that dark brown one, third from the
end.' They lifted it down, and, from the moment I touched it, I knew it
must be mine! They told me it was made at Prague, a hundred and fifty
years ago, and its price was three thousand marks. Luckily, I had my
cheque-book in my pocket, also my card, Helen's card, my publisher's
letter of introduction to the firm here, and my own letter of credit
from my bankers. So they expressed themselves willing to take my cheque.
I wrote it then and there, and marched out with the Infant. I first
called it the Infant on the stairs, as we were leaving Zimmermann's,
because I almost bumped its head! Isn't it a beauty?"

"Undoubtedly it is."

"They put on a new set of the very best strings," continued Ronnie;
"supplied me with a good bow, and threw in a cake of rosin."

"What did you pay for the organ?" inquired Aubrey Treherne.

"Twenty-four