"I promise to do my best," he said. "Don't distress yourself any more, everything will be all right."
Christian Dreyel smiled like a child and lay still. He closed his eyes, his muscles relaxed and he lost consciousness.
Out in the road the sound of cycle wheels became audible and some one came in through the gate. It was Doctor Moving, and Wallion met him half-way. The doctor was stout of build, getting gray, and had a glowing cigar in his mouth. A few words sufficed to acquaint him with the nature of the case. Without speaking he threw off his coat and helped to carry the man into the bedroom. There, with deft and practised hands the doctor quickly got to work. Fifteen minutes later he removed the cigar from his mouth and said:
"The fellow has an iron constitution, he has lost a lot of blood, but the wound is not very serious and he will live. The top of one lung is pierced, but it might have been worse. Have you a match?"
"How long will it take him to recover?" said Wallion.
"Well, well, you seem in a hurry," growled the doctor, relighting his cigar. "For the next few weeks he must neither move nor talk, then we shall see. A stab with a knife dealt by such a fiendish expert does not heal at once; but leave him to me, I'll take him under my charge ... You look after the man who dealt the blow."
Wallion shook hands with the doctor, gave one more look at Christian Dreyel's white face and then went away; but he did not forget to put the wooden doll into his pocket. Twenty minutes later he despatched the following telegram to the Chief Detective in Stockholm:
"This evening Victor Dreyel's murderer attacked Christian Dreyel. Badly wounded. Similar wooden figure stolen. Local police informed. Police dogs needed.—Wallion."
For many years Maurice Wallion had been in possession of a police pass, which was of immense use to him now. Within an hour a thorough, systematic search of the environs had been organized, telephones were working with feverish haste, and the train service at Borne and the surrounding stations put under the strictest surveillance. The following answer from Stockholm reached Wallion at 10:30 A.M.:
"Police dog last train from Gävle. Sustain search thoroughly. Aspeland arriving to-morrow."