The policeman had passed out of sight now. Like a flash the man in evening dress was upon the form of the unconscious capitalist. He was picked up as if he had been a feather-weight. An instant later and he was back at No. 1, Lytton Avenue, again.
"Quick!" the Countess whispered. "You managed that very cleverly, Balmayne. We have a credible witness who saw this creature leave the house, thanks to you."
"And the idea of drugging the glass before pouring out the wine, thanks to you," said Balmayne. "I must get this chap through the garden and on the motor at once. Give me a few minutes' start, and he's not likely to trouble us again."
Hetty sped from her hiding-place through the hall into the garden. The little green gate was open, and beyond the motor, once more in its black guise. Hetty stood there just a minute, wondering what next she should do. If there was only somebody near that she could confide in and send a message by! If she could only prevent Balmayne from starting on his mysterious errand!
There was no time to be lost, for she could hear Balmayne coming down the garden. And then a happy inspiration came to her. From her head she removed the gold and ornamented dagger, with its long steel pin. She stooped down. . .
Balmayne came with his burden, which he flung in and covered with a rug. He pulled at the lever, and the great machine started, and then dragged, as if some great weight was hanging on behind.
A snarling curse came from Balmayne's lips.
"A thousand maledictions on it!" he muttered. "Both back tyres are punctured!"