THREATENED RUIN.
If there was a dark mystery any longer it was confined to the Corner
House now. Hetty was not likely to see any more of Lytton Avenue. It
was fortunate for her that Mamie was so much better in the morning,
for as soon as the business of the day had commenced there was a rush
of people to Lytton Avenue.
They poured in thick and fast till the law intervened in the person of
a posse of officials who represented the Sheriff of London, and then
Hetty was permitted to pack up her belongings and those of the child
and depart. Gilbert Lawrence received them with open arms. Bruce was
there, pleased enough to get Hetty from the house where she had
suffered so much. But there was a white despairing look that caused
Hetty to forget her own troubles.
The white look did not even vanish when Hetty spoke of her previous
night's adventure.
"It was part of a plot to ruin us both," Bruce said moodily. "I should
have been charged with criminal carelessness, which is fatal to a
doctor, and you would have been guilty of administering an overdose.
That woman, we know who she was, changed the bottles once and would
have changed them again, in fact that is why she returned--the
Countess."
"Oh, no," Hetty cried. "She never could have done that. Her own child,
Bruce? Fancy a mother sacrificing the life of her own child to gratify
a vengeance! I could not think as badly of her as that."
Bruce smiled wearily.
"Are you quite sure," he asked, "that Mamie is her own child?"
Hetty had no reply for the moment. That idea had never occurred to her
before. Certainly she had never looked upon the Countess as a model
mother; indeed, she had never seen her display what might be called
natural affection.
"We shall probably never know," she said after a pause. "But as to
your own trouble, Gordon, dear Gordon, why don't you confide in me?"
The appeal in the thrilling tender voice touched him. He took the slim
figure in his arms and kissed the red lips.
"It's ruin," he said simply, "nothing else. A little time ago it
looked to me as if all my ambitions were to be realised. And then this
crushing misfortune comes upon me. My practice falls away, and I could
not get my money in. Of course I can't dun patients like mine. It
didn't matter till lately, because the guineas I got from
consultations were keeping me going. But these morning callers call no
more. I was pressed here and there, and I borrowed money."
"Not from those people who advertise, Gordon?"
"I am afraid I was as foolish as that," Bruce said, with a faint
smile. "That sort of people seem to know when one is under the
weather. And there was one very plausible fellow who sent me a
confidential letter. I fell into the trap, and if I can't find £500
tomorrow I am ruined."
Hetty turned pale. But no word of reproach passed her lips. It was no
time for that. And she knew by repute the kind of creditor that Gordon
had. She merely asked the name of the obdurate creditor.
"I shall find some way out of it," she said. "Now go back to your
work. Courage, dearest."
She kissed him tenderly, and pushed him from the room. Already she had
made up her mind exactly what to do. Mamie must sit down and be good
till teatime, after which she should go in the park and feed the
swans. Half an hour later and Hetty was calling upon Izaac Isidore to
ask his advice.
Isidore received his visitor warmly. He had taken a great fancy in his
calm way to the pretty, plucky girl who had played so fine a part in
the elucidation of a great mystery and a cruel wrong. He listened to
what Hetty had to say.
"I thought you would find a way out," she suggested.
"Well, so I can," Isidore smiled. "I am not going to offer to lend
that young man money, because that would wound his pride. Besides,
there will be no occasion. Now, can you let me know the name of
Bruce's creditor."
Hetty gave the desired information. There was a peculiar smile on the
face of her companion.
"I fancy I can see my way to settle this business," he said. "In my
early days I saw a deal of the shady side of finance--as a lad I was
in the office of one of the very worst of them. I know all about this
fellow. He is going to climb down, he is going to take a reasonable
rate of interest, and he is going to give your lover time. You can
make your mind easy about that."
And Isidore pulled at his cigar thoughtfully. He seemed so strong and
confident that Hetty was strangely comforted.
"I thought I could rely upon you," she said gratefully. "Mr. Isidore,
you have taken a great load from my mind."
Isidore finished his cigar, after which he took a frugal omnibus to
the City, getting down in the neighbourhood of Cheapside. He found
himself presently in a dingy office off Ironmonger Lane, and face to
face with a fat, oily man, who recognized him with a mixture of
admiration and apprehension.
"It's about that business of Dr. Gordon Bruce," Isidore said curtly.
"Now, my friend Wolffman, you know me and I know you. I don't want to
ruin you body and bones, but I shall do so unless you listen to
reason. You are going to write to Dr. Bruce, and tell him the matter
shall stand over for the present----"
"But my principal!" gasped Wolffman. "The lady who is paying me----"
"To ruin Dr. Bruce," Isidore said, as coolly as if a great light had
not suddenly broken in upon him. "So your friend is in London?"
Wolffman wriggled uneasily. He wanted to lie badly, but with those
eyes upon him he could not do so.
"She was yesterday," he stammered.
"Ah, then, you must dissemble with her. Tell her any lie you like so
long as you let Dr. Bruce alone. I guessed there was some scheme on
hand when I heard that you had written to the Doctor. Goodbye,
Wolffman, and recollect that your ruin or otherwise depends upon
yourself."
Isidore went out smiling blandly. He had made a great discovery.
"The Countess again," he murmured. "She's in this, as I thought. And
so she is still in London, after all. How interested Prout will be!"