st ajar, so that they could hear her when
she awoke.

CHAPTER XI.

"How long will she sleep, doctor?" asked Henry, after satisfying himself
by looking through the crack of the door that she was actually asleep.

"Patients do not usually wake under an hour or two," replied the doctor.
"She was very drowsy, and that is a good sign. I think we may have the
best hopes of the result of the operation."

Henry walked restlessly to and fro. After Dr. Heidenhoff had regarded him
a few moments, he said--

"You are nervous, sir. There is quite a time to wait, and it is better to
remain as calm as possible, for, in the event of an unsatisfactory
result, your friend will need soothing, and you will scarcely be equal to
that if you are yourself excited. I have some very fair cigars here. Do
me the honour to try one. I prescribe it medicinally. Your nerves need
quieting;" and he extended his cigar-case to the young man.

As Henry with a nod of acknowledgment took a cigar and lit it, and
resumed his striding to and fro, the doctor, who had seated himself
comfortably, began to talk, apparently with the kindly intent of
diverting the other's mind.

"There are a number of applications of the process I hope to make, which
will be rather amusing experiments. Take, for instance, the case of a
person who has committed a murder, come to me, and forgotten all about
it. Suppose he is subsequently arrested, and the fact ascertained that
while he undoubtedly committed the crime, he cannot possibly recall his
guilt, and so far as his conscience is concerned, is as innocent as a
new-born babe, what then? What do you think the authorities would do?"

"I think," said Henry, "that they would be very much puzzled what to do."

"Exactly," said the doctor; "I think so too. Such a case would bring out
clearly the utter confusion and contradiction in which the current
theories of ethics and moral responsibility are involved. It is time the
world was waked up on that subject. I should hugely enjoy precipitating
such a problem on the community. I'm hoping every day a murderer will
come in and require my services.

"There is another sort of case which I should also like to have," he
continued; shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth, and
uncrossing and recrossing his knees. "Suppose a man has dons another a
great wrong, and, being troubled by remorse, comes to me and has the
sponge of oblivion passed over that item in his memory. S