He whistled again and again, and presently the ambulance came trotting up. It was only when the body was raised that Hetty recognized the white still face. With a thrill it came to her that she was looking at Balmayne.
She was conscious of no feeling of astonishment. At every turn she seemed to be brought into contact with the central figures of the Corner House tragedy. A sudden inspiration came to her.
"As it happens, I know the gentleman," she said. "When I was governess to the Countess Lalage's little girl he frequently came to the house. I am a niece of Mr. Gilbert Lawrence, the novelist, who lives close by. There is a room to spare in his house, and this looks like a bad case. If you will follow me----"
The sergeant in charge of the ambulance had no objection to make. A little later and Balmayne was stripped and in bed. A doctor who had been summoned shook his head as he made his diagnosis of the wound.
"Critical," he said. "There has been a great loss of blood, too. It is all a matter of constitution now. Till I can send a nurse in----"
Hetty nodded. She perfectly understood. And Bruce had often told her that she was one of the best nurses he had ever met. There was nothing to do for the moment beyond watching over the patient to see that no change occurred.
Hetty sat there all alone for some time wondering. It looked as if fate was playing into her hands. If the man lying at the point of death could only speak, if he could only be induced to do so.
Balmayne opened his eyes and looked languidly about him. It was quite evident that he had not the slightest idea what had happened.
"Where am I?" he murmured, faintly.
Hetty explained in a few words. The patient was not to talk. He was to lie there and try to sleep again. If he did so and obeyed instructions, before long he would be out and well again.