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Entrefort stopped.

“Is that all?” asked Arnold.

“No; but is not that enough?”

“More than enough,” said Arnold, with a sudden and dangerous sparkle in his eyes. Before any of us could think, the desperate fellow had seized the handle of the stiletto with both hands in a determined effort to withdraw it and die. I had had no time to order my faculties to the movement of a muscle, when Entrefort, with incredible alertness and swiftness, had Arnold’s wrists. Slowly Arnold relaxed his hold.

“There, now!” said Entrefort, soothingly; “that was a careless act and might have broken the adhesion! You’ll have to be careful.”

Arnold looked at him with a curious combination of expressions.

“Dr. Entrefort,” he quietly remarked, “you are the devil.”

Bowing profoundly, Entrefort replied: “You do me too great honor;” then he whispered to his patient: “If you do that “–with a motion towards the hilt–“I will have her hanged for murder.”

Arnold started and choked, and a look of horror overspread his face. He withdrew his hands, took one of mine in both of his, threw his arms upon the pillow above his head, and, holding my hand, firmly said to Entrefort,–

“Proceed with your work.”

“Come closer, Hippolyte,” said Entrefort, “and observe narrowly. Will you kindly assist me, Dr. Rowell?” That gentleman had sat in wondering silence.

Entrefort’s hand was quick and sure, and he used the knife with marvellous dexterity. First he made four equidistant incisions outward from the guard and just through the skin. Arnold held his breath and ground his teeth at the first cut, but soon regained command of himself. Each incision was about two inches long. Hippolyte shuddered and turned his head aside. Entrefort, whom nothing escaped, exclaimed,–

“Steady, Hippolyte! Observe!”

Quickly was the skin peeled back to the limit of the incisions. This must have been excruciatingly painful. Arnold groaned, and his hands were moist and cold. Down sank the knife into the flesh from which the skin had been raised, and blood flowed freely; Dr. Rowell handled the sponge. The keen knife worked rapidly. Arnold’s marvellous nerve was breaking down. He clutched my hand fiercely; his eyes danced; his mind was weakening. Almost in a moment the flesh had been cut away to the bones, which were now exposed,–two ribs and the sternum. A few quick cuts cleared the weapon between the guard and the ribs.

“To work, Hippolyte–be quick!”

The machinist had evidently been coached before he came. With slender, long-fingered hands, which trembled at first, he selected certain tools with nice precision, made some rapid measurements of the weapon and of the cleared space around it, and began to adjust the parts of a queer little machine. Arnold watched him curiously.

“What—-” he began to say; but he ceased; a deeper pallor set on his face, his hands relaxed, and his eyelids fell.

“Thank God!” exclaimed Entrefort; “he has fainted–he can’t stop us now. Quick, Hippolyte!”

The machinist attached the queer little machine to the handle of the weapon, seized the stiletto in his left hand, and with his right began a series of sharp, rapid movements backward and forward.

“Hurry, Hippolyte!” urged Entrefort.

“The metal is very hard.”

“Is it cutting?”

“I can’t see for the blood.”

In another moment something snapped. Hippolyte started; he was very nervous. He removed the little machine.

“The metal is very hard,” he said; “it breaks the saws.”

He adjusted another tiny saw and resumed work. After a little while he picked up the handle of the stiletto and laid it on the table. He had cut it off, leaving the blade inside Arnold’s body.

“Good, Hippolyte!” exclaimed Entrefort. In a minute he had closed the bright end of the blade from view by drawing together the skin-flaps and sewing them firmly.

Arnold returned to consciousness and glanced down at his breast. He seemed puzzled. “Where is the weapon?” he asked.

“Here is part of it,” answered Entrefort, holding up the handle.

“And the blade—-“

“That is an irremovable part of your internal machinery.” Arnold was silent. “It had to be cut off,” pursued Entrefort, “not only because it would be troublesome and an undesirable ornament, but also because it was advisable to remove every possibility of its withdrawal.” Arnold said nothing. “Here is a prescription,” said Entrefort; “take the medicine as directed for the next five years without fail.”