“Yes, sir, for a little while, until you are better.”

“Who brought me here?  Who made arrangements for my coming here?”

“Your own friends; and really, sir, it would be better if you would accept the situation quietly,” said the man, in a conciliatory tone.

Ray began to get excited again at this information, and the more so, that he did not believe it, while the mystery of his situation seemed to deepen.

He had heard of Doctor Wesselhoff, as he had said; he knew that he was regarded as one of the finest brain specialists in the metropolis, if not in the country, and that, as a man, he stood high in the estimation of the public.

This being the case, he certainly would not lend himself to such an outrageous trick as had been practiced upon him that day.

He did not believe what the old man told him—­he did not believe that he was in Doctor Wesselhoff’s house at all.  It was only a lie on the part of the diamond thieves to further their own schemes, he thought, and yet the man’s manner was so respectful, and even kind, that he was deeply perplexed.

“There is nothing the matter with me—­I am as sane as you are,” he said, flushing angrily at the idea of being regarded as a lunatic.

“Yes—­yes; we will hope so,” was the gentle response, as the attendant began to gather the dishes and remnants of Ray’s lunch.

“You say that my friends brought me here,” persisted the young man; “that is false; I was brought here by a woman whom I never saw before, and who robbed me of valuable diamonds.  If she arranged for my coming, it is all a trick.  But what did she claim was my special malady?” he concluded, with considerable curiosity.

“We will not talk any more about it now, sir, if you please,” said his companion, in a soothing tone.  “Doctor Wesselhoff will explain it all to you when he returns.”

“When he returns?  Where has he gone—­how long will he be absent?” Ray demanded, with a sinking heart, for time was precious, and he was almost wild to get away to hunt for the thieves who had robbed him; while, too, he knew that his father must already have become alarmed at his long absence.

“The doctor was called away by a telegram only an hour ago,” the attendant replied, hoping by this explanation to divert the mind of his charge from his mania of robbery.  “His wife, who went South a week ago to visit friends, has been taken suddenly ill, and he was obliged to hasten to her; but he will return at the earliest possible moment.”

“Gone South! and I must remain here until his return?” Ray cried, in a voice of agony.  “I will not,” he went on fiercely, his face growing crimson with angry excitement.  “I tell you I am perfectly well, and I have been only tricked into this place by some cunning thief who has robbed me.  Whether Doctor Wesselhoff is concerned in it or not, I cannot tell.  I confess it seems very like it to me, although I have always heard him well spoken of.  Stay!” he cried, with a start, “you tell me the doctor has already left the city! oh! then he must be a party to the foul wrong of which I am the victim.  Let me out—­I tell you I will not submit to such inhuman treatment,” and he turned fiercely upon the attendant, as if he meditated attacking and overpowering him, with the hope of forcing his way from the place.