“Ha!” said Thorndyke. “Bad luck to the last. It must have gone through the arch of the aorta. But perhaps it is just as well.”
He rose, and stepping across to where I sat, supported by Marion and still nursing my pistol, bent over me with an anxious face.
“What is it, Gray?” he asked. “Not a fracture, I hope?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “Damaged muscle and perhaps nerve. It is all numb at present, but it doesn’t seem to be bleeding much. I think I could hobble if you would help me up.”
He shook his head and beckoned to a couple of constables, with whose aid he carried me into the studio and deposited me on the sofa. Immediately afterwards the two wounded officers were brought in, and I was relieved to hear that neither of them was dangerously hurt, though the Sergeant had a fractur
