A Thief in the Night
A Thief in the NightOut of ParadiseThe Chest of SilverThe Rest CureThe Criminologists' ClubThe Field of PhilippiA Bad NightA Trap to Catch a CracksmanThe Spoils of SacrilegeThe Raffles RelicsThe Last WordCopyright
A Thief in the Night
E. W. Hornung
Out of Paradise
If I must tell more tales of Raffles, I can but go back to
our earliest days together, and fill in the blanks left by
discretion in existing annals. In so doing I may indeed fill some
small part of an infinitely greater blank, across which you may
conceive me to have stretched my canvas for the first frank
portrait of my friend. The whole truth cannot harm him now. I shall
paint in every wart. Raffles was a villain, when all is written; it
is no service to his memory to gloze the fact; yet I have done so
myself before to–day. I have omitted whole heinous episodes. I have
dwelt unduly on the redeeming side. And this I may do again,
blinded even as I write by the gallant glamour that made my villain
more to me than any hero. But at least there shall be no more
reservations, and as an earnest I shall make no further secret of
the greatest wrong that even Raffles ever did me.I pick my words with care and pain, loyal as I still would be
to my friend, and yet remembering as I must those Ides of March
when he led me blindfold into temptation and crime. That was an
ugly office, if you will. It was a moral bagatelle to the
treacherous trick he was to play me a few weeks later. The second
offence, on the other hand, was to prove the less serious of the
two against society, and might in itself have been published to the
world years ago. There have been private reasons for my reticence.
The affair was not only too intimately mine, and too discreditable
to Raffles. One other was involved in it, one dearer to me than
Raffles himself, one whose name shall not even now be sullied by
association with ours.Suffice it that I had been engaged to her before that mad
March deed. True, her people called it "an understanding," and
frowned even upon that, as well they might. But their authority was
not direct; we bowed to it as an act of politic grace; between us,
all was well but my unworthiness. That may be gauged when I confess
that this was how the matter stood on the night I gave a worthless
check for my losses at baccarat, and afterward turned to Raffles in
my need. Even after that I saw her sometimes. But I let her guess
that there was more upon my soul than she must ever share, and at
last I had written to end it all. I remember that week so well! It
was the close of such a May as we had never had since, and I was
too miserable even to follow the heavy scoring in the papers.
Raffles was the only man who could get a wicket up at Lord's, and I
never once went to see him play. Against Yorkshire, however, he
helped himself to a hundred runs as well; and that brought Raffles
round to me, on his way home to the Albany."We must dine and celebrate the rare event," said he. "A
century takes it out of one at my time of life; and you, Bunny, you
look quite as much in need of your end of a worthy bottle. Suppose
we make it the Café Royal, and eight sharp? I'll be there first to
fix up the table and the wine."And at the Café Royal I incontinently told him of the trouble
I was in. It was the first he had ever heard of my affair, and I
told him all, though not before our bottle had been succeeded by a
pint of the same exemplary brand. Raffles heard me out with grave
attention. His sympathy was the more grateful for the tactful
brevity with which it was indicated rather than expressed. He only
wished that I had told him of this complication in the beginning;
as I had not, he agreed with me that the only course was a candid
and complete renunciation. It was not as though my divinity had a
penny of her own, or I could earn an honest one. I had explained to
Raffles that she was an orphan, who spent most of her time with an
aristocratic aunt in the country, and the remainder under the
repressive roof of a pompous politician in Palace Gardens. The aunt
had, I believed, still a sneaking softness for me, but her
illustrious brother had set his face against me from the
first."Hector Carruthers!" murmured Raffles, repeating the detested
name with his clear, cold eye on mine. "I suppose you haven't seen
much of him?""Not a thing for ages," I replied. "I was at the house two or
three days last year, but they've neither asked me since nor been
at home to me when I've called. The old beast seems a judge of
men."And I laughed bitterly in my glass."Nice house?" said Raffles, glancing at himself in his silver
cigarette–case."Top shelf," said I. "You know the houses in Palace Gardens,
don't you?""Not so well as I should like to know them,
Bunny.""Well, it's about the most palatial of the lot. The old
ruffian is as rich as Croesus. It's a country–place in
town.""What about the window–fastenings?" asked Raffles
casually.I recoiled from the open cigarette–case that he proffered as
he spoke. Our eyes met; and in his there was that starry twinkle of
mirth and mischief, that sunny beam of audacious devilment, which
had been my undoing two months before, which was to undo me as
often as he chose until the chapter's end. Yet for once I withstood
its glamour; for once I turned aside that luminous glance with
front of steel. There was no need for Raffles to voice his plans. I
read them all between the strong lines of his smiling, eager face.
And I pushed back my chair in the equal eagerness of my own
resolve."Not if I know it!" said I. "A house I've dined in—a house
I've seenherin—a house
whereshestays by the month
together! Don't put it into words, Raffles, or I'll get up and
go.""You mustn't do that before the coffee and liqueur," said
Raffles laughing. "Have a small Sullivan first: it's the royal road
to a cigar. And now let me observe that your scruples would do you
honor if old Carruthers still lived in the house in
question.""Do you mean to say he doesn't?"Raffles struck a match, and handed it first to me. "I mean to
say, my dear Bunny, that Palace Gardens knows the very name no
more. You began by telling me you had heard nothing of these people
all this year. That's quite enough to account for our little
misunderstanding. I was thinking of the house, and you were
thinking of the people in the house.""But who are they, Raffles? Who has taken the house, if old
Carruthers has moved, and how do you know that it is still worth a
visit?""In answer to your first question—Lord Lochmaben," replied
Raffles, blowing bracelets of smoke toward the ceiling. "You look
as though you had never heard of him; but as the cricket and racing
are the only part of your paper that you condescend to read, you
can't be expected to keep track of all the peers created in your
time. Your other question is not worth answering. How do you
suppose that I know these things? It's my business to get to know
them, and that's all there is to it. As a matter of fact, Lady
Lochmaben has just as good diamonds as Mrs. Carruthers ever had;
and the chances are that she keeps them where Mrs. Carruthers kept
hers, if you could enlighten me on that point."As it happened, I could, since I knew from his niece that it
was one on which Mr. Carruthers had been a faddist in his time. He
had made quite a study of the cracksman's craft, in a resolve to
circumvent it with his own. I remembered myself how the
ground–floor windows were elaborately bolted and shuttered, and how
the doors of all the rooms opening upon the square inner hall were
fitted with extra Yale locks, at an unlikely height, not to be
discovered by one within the room. It had been the butler's
business to turn and to collect all these keys before retiring for
the night. But the key of the safe in the study was supposed to be
in the jealous keeping of the master of the house himself. That
safe was in its turn so ingeniously hidden that I never should have
found it for myself. I well remember how one who showed it to me
(in the innocence of her heart) laughed as she assured me that even
her little trinkets were solemnly locked up in it every night. It
had been let into the wall behind one end of the book–case,
expressly to preserve the barbaric splendor of Mrs. Carruthers;
without a doubt these Lochmabens would use it for the same purpose;
and in the altered circumstances I had no hesitation in giving
Raffles all the information he desired. I even drew him a rough
plan of the ground–floor on the back of my menu–card."It was rather clever of you to notice the kind of locks on
the inner doors," he remarked as he put it in his pocket. "I
suppose you don't remember if it was a Yale on the front door as
well?""It was not," I was able to answer quite promptly. "I happen
to know because I once had the key when—when we went to a theatre
together.""Thank you, old chap," said Raffles sympathetically. "That's
all I shall want from you, Bunny, my boy. There's no night like
to–night!"It was one of his sayings when bent upon his worst. I looked
at him aghast. Our cigars were just in blast, yet already he was
signalling for his bill. It was impossible to remonstrate with him
until we were both outside in the street."I'm coming with you," said I, running my arm through
his."Nonsense, Bunny!""Why is it nonsense? I know every inch of the ground, and
since the house has changed hands I have no compunction. Besides,
'I have been there' in the other sense as well: once a thief, you
know! In for a penny, in for a pound!"It was ever my mood when the blood was up. But my old friend
failed to appreciate the characteristic as he usually did. We
crossed Regent Street in silence. I had to catch his sleeve to keep
a hand in his inhospitable arm."I really think you had better stay away," said Raffles as we
reached the other curb. "I've no use for you this
time.""Yet I thought I had been so useful up to now?""That may be, Bunny, but I tell you frankly I don't want you
to–night.""Yet I know the ground and you don't! I tell you what," said
I: "I'll come just to show you the ropes, and I won't take a
pennyweight of the swag."Such was the teasing fashion in which he invariably prevailed
upon me; it was delightful to note how it caused him to yield in
his turn. But Raffles had the grace to give in with a laugh,
whereas I too often lost my temper with my point."You little rabbit!" he chuckled. "You shall have your share,
whether you come or not; but, seriously, don't you think you might
remember the girl?""What's the use?" I groaned. "You agree there is nothing for
it but to give her up. I am glad to say that for myself before I
asked you, and wrote to tell her so on Sunday. Now it's Wednesday,
and she hasn't answered by line or sign. It's waiting for one word
from her that's driving me mad.""Perhaps you wrote to Palace Gardens?""No, I sent it to the country. There's been time for an
answer, wherever she may be."We had reached the Albany, and halted with one accord at the
Piccadilly portico, red cigar to red cigar."You wouldn't like to go and see if the answer's in your
rooms?" he asked."No. What's the good? Where's the point in giving her up if
I'm going to straighten out when it's too late? Itistoo late, Ihavegiven her up, and Iamcoming with you!"The hand that bowled the most puzzling ball in England (once
it found its length) descended on my shoulder with surprising
promptitude."Very well, Bunny! That's finished; but your blood be on your
own pate if evil comes of it. Meanwhile we can't do better than
turn in here till you have finished your cigar as it deserves, and
topped up with such a cup of tea as you must learn to like if you
hope to get on in your new profession. And when the hours are small
enough, Bunny, my boy, I don't mind admitting I shall be very glad
to have you with me."I have a vivid memory of the interim in his rooms. I think it
must have been the first and last of its kind that I was called
upon to sustain with so much knowledge of what lay before me. I
passed the time with one restless eye upon the clock, and the other
on the Tantalus which Raffles ruthlessly declined to unlock. He
admitted that it was like waiting with one's pads on; and in my
slender experience of the game of which he was a world's master,
that was an ordeal not to be endured without a general quaking of
the inner man. I was, on the other hand, all right when I got to
the metaphorical wicket; and half the surprises that Raffles sprung
on me were doubtless due to his early recognition of the
fact.On this occasion I fell swiftly and hopelessly out of love
with the prospect I had so gratuitously embraced. It was not only
my repugnance to enter that house in that way, which grew upon my
better judgment as the artificial enthusiasm of the evening
evaporated from my veins. Strong as that repugnance became, I had
an even stronger feeling that we were embarking on an important
enterprise far too much upon the spur of the moment. The latter
qualm I had the temerity to confess to Raffles; nor have I often
loved him more than when he freely admitted it to be the most
natural feeling in the world. He assured me, however, that he had
had my Lady Lochmaben and her jewels in his mind for several
months; he had sat behind them at first nights; and long ago
determined what to take or to reject; in fine, he had only been
waiting for those topographical details which it had been my chance
privilege to supply. I now learned that he had numerous houses in a
similar state upon his list; something or other was wanting in each
case in order to complete his plans. In that of the Bond Street
jeweller it was a trusty accomplice; in the present instance, a
more intimate knowledge of the house. And lastly, this was a
Wednesday night, when the tired legislator gets early to his
bed.How I wish I could make the whole world see and hear him, and
smell the smoke of his beloved Sullivan, as he took me into these,
the secrets of his infamous trade! Neither look nor language would
betray the infamy. As a mere talker, I shall never listen to the
like of Raffles on this side of the sod; and his talk was seldom
garnished by an oath, never in my remembrance by the unclean word.
Then he looked like a man who had dressed to dine out, not like one
who had long since dined; for his curly hair, though longer than
another's, was never untidy in its length; and these were the days
when it was still as black as ink. Nor were there many lines as yet
upon the smooth and mobile face; and its frame was still that dear
den of disorder and good taste, with the carved book–case, the
dresser and chests of still older oak, and the Wattses and
Rossettis hung anyhow on the walls.It must have been one o'clock before we drove in a hansom as
far as Kensington Church, instead of getting down at the gates of
our private road to ruin. Constitutionally shy of the direct
approach, Raffles was further deterred by a ball in full swing at
the Empress Rooms, whence potential witnesses were pouring between
dances into the cool deserted street. Instead he led me a little
way up Church Street, and so through the narrow passage into Palace
Gardens. He knew the house as well as I did. We made our first
survey from the other side of the road. And the house was not quite
in darkness; there was a dim light over the door, a brighter one in
the stables, which stood still farther back from the
road."That's a bit of a bore," said Raffles. "The ladies have been
out somewhere—trust them to spoil the show! They would get to bed
before the stable folk, but insomnia is the curse of their sex and
our profession. Somebody's not home yet; that will be the son of
the house; but he's a beauty, who may not come home at
all.""Another Alick Carruthers," I murmured, recalling the one I
liked least of all the household, as I remembered it."They might be brothers," rejoined Raffles, who knew all the
loose fish about town. "Well, I'm not sure that I shall want you
after all, Bunny.""Why not?""If the front door's only on the latch, and you're right
about the lock, I shall walk in as though I were the son of the
house myself."And he jingled the skeleton bunch that he carried on a chain
as honest men carry their latch–keys."You forget the inner doors and the safe.""True. You might be useful to me there. But I still don't
like leading you in where it isn't absolutely necessary,
Bunny.""Then let me lead you," I answered, and forthwith marched
across the broad, secluded road, with the great houses standing
back on either side in their ample gardens, as though the one
opposite belonged to me. I thought Raffles had stayed behind, for I
never heard him at my heels, yet there he was when I turned round
at the gate."I must teach you the step," he whispered, shaking his head.
"You shouldn't use your heel at all. Here's a grass border for you:
walk it as you would the plank! Gravel makes a noise, and
flower–beds tell a tale. Wait—I must carry you across
this."It was the sweep of the drive, and in the dim light from
above the door, the soft gravel, ploughed into ridges by the
night's wheels, threatened an alarm at every step. Yet Raffles,
with me in his arms, crossed the zone of peril softly as the
pard."Shoes in your pocket—that's the beauty of pumps!" he
whispered on the step; his light bunch tinkled faintly; a couple of
keys he stooped and tried, with the touch of a humane dentist; the
third let us into the porch. And as we stood together on the mat,
as he was gradually closing the door, a clock within chimed a
half–hour in fashion so thrillingly familiar to me that I caught
Raffles by the arm. My half–hours of happiness had flown to just
such chimes! I looked wildly about me in the dim light. Hat–stand
and oak settee belonged equally to my past. And Raffles was smiling
in my face as he held the door wide for my escape."You told me a lie!" I gasped in whispers."I did nothing of the sort," he replied. "The furniture's the
furniture of Hector Carruthers, but the house is the house of Lord
Lochmaben. Look here!"He had stooped, and was smoothing out the discarded envelope
of a telegram. "Lord Lochmaben," I read in pencil by the dim light;
and the case was plain to me on the spot. My friends had let their
house, furnished, as anybody but Raffles would have explained to me
in the beginning."All right," I said. "Shut the door."And he not only shut it without a sound, but drew a bolt that
might have been sheathed in rubber.In another minute we were at work upon the study–door, I with
the tiny lantern and the bottle of rock–oil, he with the brace and
the largest bit. The Yale lock he had given up at a glance. It was
placed high up in the door, feet above the handle, and the chain of
holes with which Raffles had soon surrounded it were bored on a
level with his eyes. Yet the clock in the hall chimed again, and
two ringing strokes resounded through the silent house before we
gained admittance to the room.Raffle's next care was to muffle the bell on the shuttered
window (with a silk handkerchief from the hat–stand) and to prepare
an emergency exit by opening first the shutters and then the window
itself. Luckily it was a still night, and very little wind came in
to embarrass us. He then began operations on the safe, revealed by
me behind its folding screen of books, while I stood sentry on the
threshold. I may have stood there for a dozen minutes, listening to
the loud hall clock and to the gentle dentistry of Raffles in the
mouth of the safe behind me, when a third sound thrilled my every
nerve. It was the equally cautious opening of a door in the gallery
overhead.I moistened my lips to whisper a word of warning to Raffles.
But his ears had been as quick as mine, and something longer. His
lantern darkened as I turned my head; next moment I felt his breath
upon the back of my neck. It was now too late even for a whisper,
and quite out of the question to close the mutilated door. There we
could only stand, I on the threshold, Raffles at my elbow, while
one carrying a candle crept down the stairs.The study–door was at right angles to the lowest flight, and
just to the right of one alighting in the hall. It was thus
impossible for us to see who it was until the person was close
abreast of us; but by the rustle of the gown we knew that it was
one of the ladies, and dressed just as she had come from theatre or
ball. Insensibly I drew back as the candle swam into our field of
vision: it had not traversed many inches when a hand was clapped
firmly but silently across my mouth.I could forgive Raffles for that, at any rate! In another
breath I should have cried aloud: for the girl with the candle, the
girl in her ball–dress, at dead of night, the girl with the letter
for the post, was the last girl on God's wide earth whom I should
have chosen thus to encounter—a midnight intruder in the very house
where I had been reluctantly received on her account!I forgot Raffles. I forgot the new and unforgivable grudge I
had against him now. I forgot his very hand across my mouth, even
before he paid me the compliment of removing it. There was the only
girl in all the world: I had eyes and brains for no one and for
nothing else. She had neither seen nor heard us, had looked neither
to the right hand nor the left. But a small oak table stood on the
opposite side of the hall; it was to this table that she went. On
it was one of those boxes in which one puts one's letters for the
post; and she stooped to read by her candle the times at which this
box was cleared.The loud clock ticked and ticked. She was standing at her
full height now, her candle on the table, her letter in both hands,
and in her downcast face a sweet and pitiful perplexity that drew
the tears to my eyes. Through a film I saw her open the envelope so
lately sealed and read her letter once more, as though she would
have altered it a little at the last. It was too late for that; but
of a sudden she plucked a rose from her bosom, and was pressing it
in with her letter when I groaned aloud.How could I help it? The letter was for me: of that I was as
sure as though I had been looking over her shoulder. She was as
true as tempered steel; there were not two of us to whom she wrote
and sent roses at dead of night. It was her one chance of writing
to me. None would know that she had written. And she cared enough
to soften the reproaches I had richly earned, with a red rose warm
from her own warm heart. And there, and there was I, a common thief
who had broken in to steal! Yet I was unaware that I had uttered a
sound until she looked up, startled, and the hands behind me pinned
me where I stood.I think she must have seen us, even in the dim light of
the solitary candle. Yet not a sound escaped her as she peered
courageously in our direction; neither did one of us move; but the
hall clock went on and on, every tick like the beat of a drum to
bring the house about our ears, until a minute must have passed as
in some breathless dream. And then came the awakening—with such a
knocking and a ringing at the front door as brought all three of us
to our senses on the spot."The son of the house!" whispered Raffles in my ear, as he
dragged me back to the window he had left open for our escape. But
as he leaped out first a sharp cry stopped me at the sill. "Get
back! Get back! We're trapped!" he cried; and in the single second
that I stood there, I saw him fell one officer to the ground, and
dart across the lawn with another at his heels. A third came
running up to the window. What could I do but double back into the
house? And there in the hall I met my lost love face to
face.Till that moment she had not recognized me. I ran to catch
her as she all but fell. And my touch repelled her into life, so
that she shook me off, and stood gasping: "You, of all men! You, of
all men!" until I could bear it no more, but broke again for the
study–window. "Not that way—not that way!" she cried in an agony at
that. Her hands were upon me now. "In there, in there," she
whispered, pointing and pulling me to a mere cupboard under the
stairs, where hats and coats were hung; and it was she who shut the
door on me with a sob.Doors were already opening overhead, voices calling, voices
answering, the alarm running like wildfire from room to room. Soft
feet pattered in the gallery and down the stairs about my very
ears. I do not know what made me put on my own shoes as I heard
them, but I think that I was ready and even longing to walk out and
give myself up. I need not say what and who it was that alone
restrained me. I heard her name. I heard them crying to her as
though she had fainted. I recognized the detested voice of
mybête noir, Alick Carruthers,
thick as might be expected of the dissipated dog, yet daring to
stutter out her name. And then I heard, without catching, her low
reply; it was in answer to the somewhat stern questioning of quite
another voice; and from what followed I knew that she had never
fainted at all."Upstairs, miss, did he? Are you sure?"I did not hear her answer. I conceive her as simply pointing
up the stairs. In any case, about my very ears once more, there now
followed such a patter and tramp of bare and booted feet as renewed
in me a base fear for my own skin. But voices and feet passed over
my head, went up and up, higher and higher; and I was wondering
whether or not to make a dash for it, when one light pair came
running down again, and in very despair I marched out to meet my
preserver, looking as little as I could like the abject thing I
felt."Be quick!" she cried in a harsh whisper, and pointed
peremptorily to the porch.But I stood stubbornly before her, my heart hardened by her
hardness, and perversely indifferent to all else. And as I stood I
saw the letter she had written, in the hand with which she pointed,
crushed into a ball."Quickly!" She stamped her foot. "Quickly—if you ever cared!"This in a whisper, without bitterness, without contempt, but
with a sudden wild entreaty that breathed upon the dying embers of
my poor manhood. I drew myself together for the last time in her
sight. I turned, and left her as she wished—for her sake, not for
mine. And as I went I heard her tearing her letter into little
pieces, and the little pieces falling on the floor.Then I remembered Raffles, and could have killed him for what
he had done. Doubtless by this time he was safe and snug in the
Albany: what did my fate matter to him? Never mind; this should be
the end between him and me as well; it was the end of everything,
this dark night's work! I would go and tell him so. I would jump
into a cab and drive there and then to his accursed rooms. But
first I must escape from the trap in which he had been so ready to
leave me. And on the very steps I drew back in despair. They were
searching the shrubberies between the drive and the road; a
policeman's lantern kept flashing in and out among the laurels,
while a young man in evening–clothes directed him from the gravel
sweep. It was this young man whom I must dodge, but at my first
step in the gravel he wheeled round, and it was Raffles
himself."Hulloa!" he cried. "So you've come up to join the dance as
well! Had a look inside, have you? You'll be better employed in
helping to draw the cover in front here. It's all right,
officer—only another gentleman from the Empress
Rooms."And we made a brave show of assisting in the futile search,
until the arrival of more police, and a broad hint from an
irritable sergeant, gave us an excellent excuse for going off
arm–in–arm. But it was Raffles who had thrust his arm through mine.
I shook him off as we left the scene of shame behind."My dear Bunny!" he exclaimed. "Do you know what brought me
back?"I answered savagely that I neither knew nor
cared."I had the very devil of a squeak for it," he went on. "I did
the hurdles over two or three garden–walls, but so did the flyer
who was on my tracks, and he drove me back into the straight and
down to High Street like any lamplighter. If he had only had the
breath to sing out it would have been all up with me then; as it
was I pulled off my coat the moment I was round the corner, and
took a ticket for it at the Empress Rooms.""I suppose you had one for the dance that was going on," I
growled. Nor would it have been a coincidence for Raffles to have
had a ticket for that or any other entertainment of the London
season."I never asked what the dance was," he returned. "I merely
took the opportunity of revising my toilet, and getting rid of that
rather distinctive overcoat, which I shall call for now. They're
not too particular at such stages of such proceedings, but I've no
doubt I should have seen someone I knew if I had gone right in. I
might even have had a turn, if only I had been less uneasy about
you, Bunny.""It was like you to come back to help me out," said I. "But
to lie to me, and to inveigle me with your lies into that house of
all houses—that was not like you, Raffles—and I never shall forgive
it or you!"Raffles took my arm again. We were near the High Street gates
of Palace Gardens, and I was too miserable to resist an advance
which I meant never to give him an opportunity to
repeat."Come, come, Bunny, there wasn't much inveigling about it,"
said he. "I did my level best to leave you behind, but you wouldn't
listen to me.""If you had told me the truth I should have listened fast
enough," I retorted. "But what's the use of talking? You can boast
of your own adventures after you bolted. You don't care what
happened to me.""I cared so much that I came back to see.""You might have spared yourself the trouble! The wrong had
been done. Raffles—Raffles—don't you know who she
was?"It was my hand that gripped his arm once more."I guessed," he answered, gravely enough even for
me."It was she who saved me, not you," I said. "And that is the
bitterest part of all!"Yet I told him that part with a strange sad pride in her whom
I had lost—through him—forever. As I ended we turned into High
Street; in the prevailing stillness, the faint strains of the band
reached us from the Empress Rooms; and I hailed a crawling hansom
as Raffles turned that way."Bunny," said he, "it's no use saying I'm sorry. Sorrow adds
insult in a case like this—if ever there was or will be such
another! Only believe me, Bunny, when I swear to you that I had not
the smallest shadow of a suspicion thatshewas in the house."And in my heart of hearts I did believe him; but I could not
bring myself to say the words."You told me yourself that you had written to her in the
country," he pursued."And that letter!" I rejoined, in a fresh wave of bitterness:
"that letter she had written at dead of night, and stolen down to
post, it was the one I have been waiting for all these days! I
should have got it to–morrow. Now I shall never get it, never hear
from her again, nor have another chance in this world or in the
next. I don't say it was all your fault. You no more knew that she
was there than I did. But you told me a deliberate lie about her
people, and that I never shall forgive."I spoke as vehemently as I could under my breath. The hansom
was waiting at the curb."I can say no more than I have said," returned Raffles with a
shrug. "Lie or no lie, I didn't tell it to bring you with me, but
to get you to give me certain information without feeling a beast
about it. But, as a matter of fact, it was no lie about old Hector
Carruthers and Lord Lochmaben, and anybody but you would have
guessed the truth.""What is the truth?""I as good as told you, Bunny, again and again.""Then tell me now.""If you read your paper there would be no need; but if you
want to know, old Carruthers headed the list of the Birthday
Honors, and Lord Lochmaben is the title of his
choice."And this miserable quibble was not a lie! My lip curled, I
turned my back without a word, and drove home to my Mount Street
flat in a new fury of savage scorn. Not a lie, indeed! It was the
one that is half a truth, the meanest lie of all, and the very last
to which I could have dreamt that Raffles would stoop. So far there
had been a degree of honor between us, if only of the kind
understood to obtain between thief and thief. Now all that was at
an end. Raffles had cheated me. Raffles had completed the ruin of
my life. I was done with Raffles, as she who shall not be named was
done with me.And yet, even while I blamed him most bitterly, and utterly
abominated his deceitful deed, I could not but admit in my heart
that the result was out of all proportion to the intent: he had
never dreamt of doing me this injury, or indeed any injury at all.
Intrinsically the deceit had been quite venial, the reason for it
obviously the reason that Raffles had given me. It was quite true
that he had spoken of this Lochmaben peerage as a new creation, and
of the heir to it in a fashion only applicable to Alick Carruthers.
He had given me hints, which I had been too dense to take, and he
had certainly made more than one attempt to deter me from
accompanying him on this fatal emprise; had he been more explicit,
I might have made it my business to deter him. I could not say in
my heart that Raffles had failed to satisfy such honor as I might
reasonably expect to subsist between us. Yet it seems to me to
require a superhuman sanity always and unerringly to separate cause
from effect, achievement from intent. And I, for one, was never
quite able to do so in this case.I could not be accused of neglecting my newspaper during the
next few wretched days. I read every word that I could find about
the attempted jewel–robbery in Palace Gardens, and the reports
afforded me my sole comfort. In the first place, it was only an
attempted robbery; nothing had been taken, after all. And then—and
then—the one member of the household who had come nearest to a
personal encounter with either of us was unable to furnish any
description of the man—had even expressed a doubt as to the
likelihood of identification in the event of an
arrest!I will not say with what mingled feelings I read and dwelt on
that announcement. It kept a certain faint glow alive within me
until the morning brought me back the only presents I had ever made
her. They were books; jewellery had been tabooed by the
authorities. And the books came back without a word, though the
parcel was directed in her hand.