It was all falling out beautifully. Not only had Van Sneck turned up in the nick of time, but he was not in a position to do any further mischief. It suited Bell exactly that Van Sneck should be _hors de combat_ for the moment.
The first thing to be done was to see Lord Littimer without delay. Bell had no idea of humbly soliciting an interview. He proceeded to a telegraph office the first thing the following morning and wired Littimer to the effect that he must see him on important business. He had an hour or two at his disposal, so he took a cab as far as Downend Terrace. He found Steel slug-hunting in the conservatory, the atmosphere of which was blue with cigarette smoke.
"So you are not working this morning?" he asked.
"How the dickens can I work?" David exclaimed, irritably. "Not that I haven't been trying. I might just as well take a long holiday till this mystery is cleared up for all the good I am. What is the next move?"
"My next move is to go to Littimer and convince him that he has done me a great wrong. I am bound to have Littimer's ear once more."
"You are going to show him the spare Rembrandt, eh?"
"That's it. I flatter myself I shall astonish him. I've sent a telegram to say I'm coming to-day, after which I shall proceed to storm the citadel. I feel all the safer because nobody knows I have the engraving."
"My dear chap, somebody knows you have the picture."
"Impossible!" Bell exclaimed. "Only yourself and Enid Henson can possibly be aware that--"
"All the same, I am speaking the truth," David said. "Last night when you went into the hospital you gave me the print to take care of. At the same time I noticed a rough-looking man presumedly asleep on the seat in the road facing the hospital. Afterwards when I looked round he had disappeared. At the time I thought nothing of it. When I came in here I placed the precious roll of paper on my writing-table under the window yonder. The window is a small one, as you can see, and was opened about a foot at the top. I sat here with the light down and the room faintly illuminated by the light in the conservatory. After a little time I saw a hand and arm groping for something on the table, and I'm quite sure the hand and arm were groping for your Rembrandt. The fellow muttered something that I failed to understand, and I made a grab for him and got him. Then the other hand made a dash for my head with an ugly piece of gas-piping, and I had to let go."