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MRS. RAFFLES
Being the Adventures of an Amateur Crackswoman
Narrated by Bunny
Edited by
JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
Illustrated by Albert Levering
[Illustration: "'IT'S FINE, BUNNY,' SHE CRIED"]
New York and London
Harper & Brothers Publishers
1905
Copyright, 1905, by Harper & Brothers.
All rights reserved.
Published October, 1905.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE ADVENTURE OF THE _HERALD_ PERSONAL 1
II. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NEWPORT VILLA 14
III. THE ADVENTURE OF MRS. GASTER'S MAID 28
IV. THE PEARL ROPE OF MRS. GUSHINGTON-ANDREWS 42
V. THE ADVENTURE OF THE STEEL BONDS 56
VI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE FRESH-AIR FUND 69
VII. THE ADVENTURE OF MRS. ROCKERBILT'S TIARA 84
VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE CARNEGIE LIBRARY 99
IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE HOLD-UP 115
X. THE ADVENTURE OF MRS. SHADD'S MUSICALE 132
XI. THE ADVENTURE OF MRS. INNITT'S COOK 150
XII. THE LAST ADVENTURE 165
Illustrations
"'IT'S FINE, BUNNY,' SHE CRIED" _Frontispiece_
"THIS I WOULD SELL TO THE SUFFERING POOR" _Facing p._ 4
"THE WHOLE CONTENTS AND THE PLATTER AS WELL FELL AT MY FEET" 13
"HER SLIGHT LITTLE FIGURE CONVULSED WITH GRIEF" 40
"AND THEN THERE CAME A RIPPING SOUND" 52
"I, OF COURSE, DID NOT TELL HENRIETTA OF EIGHT BEAUTIES I HAD
KEPT OUT" 54
"'AFTER WHICH HE WILL COME TO NEWPORT'" 62
"MR. BOLIVAR WAS DULY IMPRESSED WITH THE EXTENT OF HENRIETTE'S
FORTUNE" 66
ONE OF THE BENEFICIARIES AT PALM BEACH 82
"IT WAS NOT ALWAYS EASY TO GET THE RIGHT LIGHT" 90
"ALL WAS AS HENRIETTE HAD FORETOLD" 94
"'IF YOU WANTED A LAKE, MR. HIGGINBOTHAM, I--'" 110
"AS KEEN AND HIGH-HANDED A PERFORMANCE AS I EVER WITNESSED" 124
"ON HER WAY TO EARLY CHURCH I WAYLAID NORAH" 162
"HENRIETTE WAS TESTING THE FIFTY-THOUSAND-DOLLAR PIANO" 172
"MY MISERY IS DEEP BUT I AM BUOYED UP BY ONE GREAT HOPE" 178
Mrs. Raffles
I
THE ADVENTURE OF THE _HERALD_ PERSONAL
That I was in a hard case is best attested by the fact that when I had
paid for my Sunday _Herald_ there was left in my purse just one
tuppence-ha'penny stamp and two copper cents, one dated 1873, the other
1894. The mere incident that at this hour eighteen months later I can
recall the dates of these coins should be proof, if any were needed, of
the importance of the coppers in my eyes, and therefore of the relative
scarcity of funds in my possession. Raffles was dead--killed as you may
remember at the battle of Spion Kop--and I, his companion, who had never
known want while his deft fingers were able to carry out the plans of
that insinuating and marvellous mind of his, was now, in the vernacular
of the American, up against it. I had come to the United States, not
because I had any liking for that country or its people, who, to tell
the truth, are too sharp for an ordinary burglar like myself, but
because with the war at an end I had to go somewhere, and English soil
was not safely to be trod by one who was required for professional
reasons to evade the eagle eye of Scotland Yard until the Statute of
Limitations began to have some bearing upon his case. That last affair
of Raffles and mine, wherein we had successfully got away with the
diamond stomacher of the duchess of Herringdale, was still a live matter
in British detective circles, and the very audacity of the crime had
definitely fastened the responsibility for it upon our shoulders. Hence
it was America for me, where one could be as English as one pleased
without being subject to the laws of his Majesty, King Edward VII., of
Great Britain and Ireland and sundry other possessions upon which the
sun rarely if ever sets. For two years I had led a precarious existence,
not finding in the land of silk and money quite as many of those
opportunities to add to the sum of my prosperity as the American War
Correspondent I had met in the Transvaal led me to expect. Indeed, after
six months of successful lecturing on the subject of the Boers before
various lyceums in the country, I was reduced to a state of penury which
actually drove me to thievery of the pettiest and most vulgar sort.
There was little in the way of mean theft that I did not commit. During
the coal famine, for instance, every day passing the coal-yards to and
fro, I would appropriate a single piece of the precious anthracite until
I had come into possession of a scuttleful, and this I would sell to the
suffering poor at prices varying from three shillings to two dollars and
a half--a precarious living indeed. The only respite I received for six
months was in the rape of the hansom-cab, which I successfully carried
through one bitter cold night in January. I hired the vehicle at Madison
Square and drove to a small tavern on the Boston Post Road, where the
icy cold of the day gave me an excuse for getting my cabby drunk in the
guise of kindness. Him safely disposed of in a drunken stupor, I drove
his jaded steed back to town, earned fifteen dollars with him before
daybreak, and then, leaving the cab in the Central Park, sold the horse
for eighteen dollars to a snow-removal contractor over on the East
Side. It was humiliating to me, a gentleman born, and a partner of so
illustrious a person as the late A. J. Raffles, to have to stoop to such
miserable doings to keep body and soul together, but I was forced to
confess that, whatever Raffles had left to me in the way of example, I
was not his equal either in the conception of crime or in the nerve to
carry a great enterprise through. My biggest coups had a way of failing
at their very beginning--which was about the only blessing I enjoyed,
since none of them progressed far enough to imperil my freedom, and,
lacking confederates, I was of course unable to carry through the
profitable series of abductions in the world of High Finance that I had
contemplated. Hence my misfortunes, and now on this beautiful Sunday
morning, penniless but for the coppers and the postage-stamp, with no
breakfast in sight, and, fortunately enough, not even an appetite, I
turned to my morning paper for my solace.
[Illustration: "THIS I WOULD SELL TO THE SUFFERING POOR"]
Running my eye up and down the personal column, which has for years been
my favorite reading of Sunday mornings, I found the usual assortment of
matrimonial enterprises recorded: pathetic appeals from P. D. to meet Q.
on the corner of Twenty-third Street at three; imploring requests from
J. A. K. to return at once to "His Only Mother," who promises to ask no
questions; and finally--could I believe my eyes now riveted upon the
word?--my own sobriquet, printed as boldly and as plainly as though I
were some patent cure for all known human ailments. It seemed
incredible, but there it was beyond all peradventure:
"WANTED.--A Butler. BUNNY preferred. Apply to Mrs. A. J. Van
Raffles, Bolivar Lodge, Newport, R.I."
To whom could that refer if not to myself, and what could it mean? Who
was this Mrs. A. J. Van Raffles?--a name so like that of my dead friend
that it seemed almost identical. My curiosity was roused to concert
pitch. If this strange advertiser should be-- But no, she would not send
for me after that stormy interview in which she cast me over to take the
hand of Raffles: the brilliant, fascinating Raffles, who would have won
his Isabella from Ferdinand, Chloe from her Corydon, Pierrette from
Pierrot--ay, even Heloise from Abelard. I never could find it in my
heart to blame Henriette for losing her heart to him, even though she
had already promised it to me, for I myself could not resist the
fascination of the man at whose side I faithfully worked even after he
had stolen from me this dearest treasure of my heart. And yet who else
could it be if not the lovely Henriette? Surely the combination of
Raffles, with or without the Van, and Bunny was not so usual as to
permit of so remarkable a coincidence.
"I will go to Newport at once," I cried, rising and pacing the floor
excitedly, for I had many times, in cursing my loneliness, dreamed of
Henriette, and had oftener and oftener of late found myself wondering
what had become of her, and then the helplessness of my position burst
upon me with full force. How should I, the penniless wanderer in New
York, get to Bolivar Lodge at Newport? It takes money in this sordid
country to get about, even as it does in Britain--in sorry truth, things
in detail differ little whether one lives under a king or a president;
poverty is quite as hard to bear, and free passes on the railroad are
just as scarce.
"Curses on these plutocrats!" I muttered, as I thought of the railway
directors rolling in wealth, running trains filled with empty seats to
and from the spot that might contain my fortune, and I unable to avail
myself of them for the lack of a paltry dollar or two. But suddenly the
thought flashed over me--telegraph collect. If it is she, she will
respond at once.
And so it was that an hour later the following message was ticked over
the wires:
"Personal to-day's _Herald_ received. Telegraph railway fare and I
will go to you instantly.
(Signed),
BUNNY."
For three mortal hours I paced the streets feverishly awaiting the
reply, and at two-thirty it came, disconcerting enough in all
conscience:
"If you are not a bogus Bunny you will know how to raise the cash.
If you are a bogus Bunny I don't want you."
It was simple, direct, and convincing, and my heart fluttered like the
drum-beat's morning call to action the moment I read it.
"By Jove!" I cried. "The woman is right, of course. It must be
Henriette, and I'll go to her if I have to rob a nickel-in-the-slot
machine."
It was as of old. Faint-hearted I always was until some one gave me a
bit of encouragement. A word of praise or cheer from Raffles in the old
days and I was ready to batter down Gibraltar, a bit of discouragement
and a rag was armor-plate beside me.
"'If you are not a bogus Bunny you will know,'" I read, spreading the
message out before me. "That is to say, _she_ believes that if I am
really myself I can surmount the insurmountable. Gad! I'll do it." And I
set off hot-foot up Fifth Avenue, hoping to discover, or by cogitation
in the balmy air of the spring-time afternoon, to conceive of some plan
to relieve my necessities. But, somehow or other, it wouldn't come.
There were no pockets about to be picked in the ordinary way. I hadn't
the fare for a ride on the surface or elevated cars, where I might have
found an opportunity to relieve some traveller of his purse, and as for
snatching such a thing from some shopper, it was Sunday and the women
who would have been an easy prey on a bargain-day carried neither purse
nor side-bag with them. I was in despair, and then the pealing bells of
St. Jondy's, the spiritual home of the multi-millionaires of New York,
rang out the call to afternoon service. It was like an invitation--the
way was clear. My plan was laid in an instant, and it worked beyond my
most hopeful anticipations. Entering the church, I was ushered to a pew
about halfway up the centre aisle--despite my poverty, I had managed to
keep myself always well-groomed, and no one would have guessed, to look
at my faultless frock-coat and neatly creased trousers, at my finely
gloved hand and polished top-hat, that my pockets held scarcely a brass
farthing. The service proceeded. A good sermon on the Vanity of Riches
found lodgment in my ears, and then the supreme moment came. The
collection-plate was passed, and, gripping my two pennies in my hand, I
made as if to place them in the salver, but with studied awkwardness I
knocked the alms-platter from the hands of the gentleman who passed it.
The whole contents and the platter as well fell at my feet, and from my
lips in reverent whispers poured forth no end of most abject apologies.
Of course I assisted in recovering the fallen bills and coins, and in
less time than it takes to tell it the vestryman was proceeding on his
way up the aisle, gathering in the contributions from other generously
disposed persons as he went, as unconsciously as though the
_contretemps_ had never occurred, and happily unaware that out of the
moneys cast to the floor by my awkward act two yellow-backed
fifty-dollar bills, five half-dollars, and a dime remained behind under
the hassock at my feet, whither I had managed to push them with my toe
while offering my apologies.
[Illustration: "THE WHOLE CONTENTS AND THE PLATTER AS WELL FELL AT MY
FEET"]
An hour later, having dined heartily at Delsherrico's, I was comfortably
napping in a Pullman car on my way to the Social Capital of the United
States.
II
THE ADVENTURE OF THE NEWPORT VILLA
There is little need for me to describe in detail the story of my
railway journey from New York to Newport. It was uneventful and
unproductive save as to the latter end of it, when, on the arrival of
the train at Wickford, observing that the prosperous-looking gentleman
bound for Boston who occupied the seat next mine in the Pullman car was
sleeping soundly, I exchanged my well-worn covert coat for his richly
made, sable-lined surtout, and made off as well with his suit-case on
the chance of its holding something that might later serve some one of
my many purposes. I mention this in passing only because the suit-case,
containing as it did all the essential features of a gentleman's evening
attire, even to three superb pearl studs in the bosom of an immaculately
white shirt, all of them, marvellously enough, as perfectly fitting as
though they had been made for me, with a hundred unregistered
first-mortgage bonds of the United States Steel Company--of which
securities there will be more anon--enabled me later to appear before
Mrs. Van Raffles in a guise so prosperous as to win an immediate renewal
of her favor.
"We shall be almost as great a combination as the original Bunny," she
cried, enthusiastically, when I told her of this coup. "With my brains
and your blind luck nothing can stop us."
My own feelings as I drove up to Bolivar Lodge were mixed. I still loved
Henriette madly, but the contrast between her present luxury and my
recent misery grated harshly upon me. I could not rid myself of the
notion that Raffles had told her of the secret hiding-place of the
diamond stomacher of the duchess of Herringdale, and that she had
appropriated to her own use all the proceeds of its sale, leaving me,
who had risked my liberty to obtain it, without a penny's worth of
dividend for my pains. It did not seem quite a level thing to do, and I
must confess that I greeted the lady in a reproachful spirit. It was,
indeed, she, and more radiantly beautiful than ever--a trifle thinner
perhaps, and her eyes more coldly piercing than seductively winning as
of yore, but still Henriette whom I had once so madly loved and who had
jilted me for a better man.
"Dear old Bunny!" she murmured, holding out both hands in welcome. "Just
to think that after all these years and in a strange land and under
such circumstances we should meet again!"
"It is strange," said I, my eye roving about the drawing-room, which
from the point of view of its appointments and decoration was about the
richest thing I had ever seen either by light of day or in the
mysterious glimpses one gets with a dark lantern of the houses of the
moneyed classes. "It seems more than strange," I added, significantly,
"to see you surrounded by such luxury. A so-called lodge built of the
finest grade of Italian marble; gardens fit for the palace of a king; a
retinue of servants such as one scarcely finds on the ducal estates of
the proudest families of England and a mansion that is furnished with
treasures of art, any one of which is worth a queen's ransom."
"I do not wonder you are surprised," she replied, looking about the room
with a smile of satisfaction that did little to soothe my growing
wrath.
"It certainly leaves room for explanation," I retorted, coldly. "Of
course, if Raffles told you where the Herringdale jewels were hid and
you have disposed of them, some of all this could be accounted for; but
what of me? Did it ever occur to you that I was entitled to some part of
the swag?"
"Oh, you poor, suspicious old Bunny," she rippled. "Haven't I sent for
you to give you some share of this--although truly you don't deserve it,
for _this_ is all mine. I haven't any more notion what became of the
Herringdale jewels than the duchess of Herringdale herself."
"What?" I cried. "Then these surroundings--"
"Are self-furnishing," she said, with a merry little laugh, "and all
through a plan of my own, Bunny. This house, as you may not be aware, is
the late residence of Mr. and Mrs. Constant Scrappe--"
"Who are suing each other for divorce," I put in, for I knew of the
Constant Scrappes in social life, as who did not, since a good third of
the society items of the day concerned themselves with the matrimonial
difficulties of this notable couple.
"Precisely," said Henriette. "Now Mrs. Scrappe is in South Dakota
establishing a residence, and Colonel Scrappe is at Monte Carlo
circulating his money with the aid of a wheel and a small ball. Bolivar
Lodge, with its fine collection of old furniture, its splendid jades,
its marvellous Oriental potteries, paintings, and innumerable small
silver articles, is left here at Newport and for rent. What more
natural, dear, than that I, needing a residence whose occupancy would in
itself be an assurance of my social position, should snap it up with an
eagerness which in this Newport atmosphere amounted nearly to a betrayal
of plebeian origin?"
"But it must cost a fortune!" I cried, gazing about me at the splendors
of the room, which even to a cursory inspection revealed themselves as
of priceless value. "That cloisonne jar over by the fireplace is worth
two hundred pounds alone."
"That is just the reason why I wanted this particular house, Bunny. It
is also why I need your assistance in maintaining it," Mrs. Raffles
returned.
"Woman is ever a mystery," I responded, with a harsh laugh. "Why in
Heaven's name you think I can help you to pay your rent--"
"It is only twenty-five hundred dollars a month, Bunny," she said.
My answer was a roar of derisive laughter.
"Hear her!" I cried, addressing the empty air. "Only twenty-five hundred
dollars a month! Why, my dear Henriette, if it were twenty-five hundred
clam-shells a century I couldn't help you pay a day's rental, I am that
strapped. Until this afternoon I hadn't seen thirty cents all at once
for nigh on to six months. I have been so poor that I've had to take my
morning coffee at midnight from the coffee-wagons of the New York,
Boston, and Chicago sporting papers. In eight months I have not tasted a
table-d'hote dinner that an expert would value at fifteen cents net, and
yet you ask me to help you pay twenty-five hundred dollars a month rent
for a Newport palace! You must be mad."
"You are the same loquacious old Bunny that you used to be," said Mrs.
Raffles, sharply, yet with a touch of affection in her voice. "You can't
keep your trap shut for a second, can you? Do you know, Bunny, what dear
old A. J. said to me just before he went to South Africa? It was that if
you were as devoted to business as you were to words you'd be a wonder.
His exact remark was that we would both have to look out for you for
fear you would queer the whole business. Raffles estimated that your
habit of writing-up full accounts of his various burglaries for the
London magazines had made the risks one hundred per cent. bigger and the
available swag a thousand per cent. harder to get hold of. 'Harry,' said
he the night before he sailed, 'if I die over in the Transvaal and you
decide to continue the business, get along as long as you can without a
press-agent. If you go on the stage, surround yourself with 'em, but in
the burglary trade they are a nuisance.'"
My answer was a sulky shrug of the shoulders.
"You haven't given me a chance to explain how you are to help me. I
don't ask you for money, Bunny. Four dollars' worth of obedience is all
I want," she continued. "The portable property in this mansion is worth
about half a million dollars, my lad, and I want you to be--well, my
official porter. I took immediate possession of this house, and my first
month's rent was paid with the proceeds of a sale of three old bedsteads
I found on the top floor, six pieces of Sevres china from the southeast
bedroom on the floor above this, and a Satsuma vase which I discovered
in a hall-closet on the third floor."
A light began to dawn on me.
"Before coming here I eked out a miserable existence in New York as
buyer for an antique dealer on Fourth Avenue," she explained. "He thinks
I am still working for him, travelling about the country in search of
bargains in high-boys, mahogany desks, antique tables, wardrobes,
bedsteads--in short, valuable junk generally. Now do you see?"
"As Mrs. Raffles--or Van Raffles, as you have it now?" I demanded.
"Oh, Bunny, Bunny, Bunny! What a stupid you are! Never! As Miss
Pratt-Robinson," she replied. "From this I earn fifteen dollars a week.
The sources of the material I send him--well--do you see now, Bunny?"
"It is growing clearer," said I. "You contemplate paying the rent of
this house with its contents, is that it?"
"What beautiful intelligence you have, Bunny!" she laughed, airily. "You
know a hawk from a hand-saw. Nobody can pass a motor-car off on you for
a horse, can they, Bunny dear? Not while you have that eagle eye of
yours wide open. Yes, sir. That is the scheme. _I am going to pay the
rental of this mansion with its contents._ Half a million dollars' worth
of contents means how long at twenty-five hundred dollars a month? Eh?"
"Gad! Henriette," I cried. "You are worthy of Raffles, I swear it. You
can be easy about your rent for sixteen years."
"That is about the size of it, as these Newport people have it," said
Mrs. Raffles, beaming upon me.
"I'm still in the dark as to where I come in," said I.
"Promise to obey my directions implicitly," said Henriette "and you will
receive your share of the booty."
"Henriette--" I cried, passionately, seizing her hand.
"No--Bunny--not now," she remonstrated, gently. "This is no time for
sentiment. Just promise to obey, the love and honor business may come
later."
"I will," said I.
"Well, then," she resumed, her color mounting high, and speaking
rapidly, "you are to return at once to New York, taking with you three
trunks which I have already packed, containing one of the most beautiful
collections of jade ornaments that has ever been gathered together. You
will rent a furnished apartment in some aristocratic quarter. Spread
these articles throughout your rooms as though you were a connoisseur,
and on Thursday next when Mr. Harold Van Gilt calls upon you to see your
collection you will sell it to him for not less than eight thousand
dollars."
"Aha!" said I. "I see the scheme."
"This you will immediately remit to me here," she continued, excitedly.
"Mr. Van Gilt will pay cash."
I laughed. "Why eight thousand?" I demanded. "Are you living beyond
your--ah--income?"
"No," she answered, "but next month's rent is due Tuesday, and I owe my
servants and tradesmen twenty-five hundred dollars more."
"Even then there will be three thousand dollars over," I put in.
"True, Bunny, true. But I shall need it all, dear. I am invited to the
P. J. D. Gasters on Sunday afternoon to play bridge," Henriette
explained. "We must prepare for emergencies."
I returned to New York on the boat that night, and by Wednesday was
safely ensconced in very beautifully furnished bachelor quarters near
Gramercy Square, where on Thursday Mr. Harold Van Gilt called to see my
collection of jades which I was selling because of a contemplated
five-year journey into the East. On Friday Mr. Van Gilt took possession
of the collection, and that night a check for eight thousand dollars
went to Mrs. Van Raffles at Newport. Incidentally, I passed two thousand
dollars to my own credit. As I figured it out, if Van Gilt was willing
to pay ten thousand dollars for the stuff, and Henriette was willing to
take eight thousand dollars for it, nobody was the loser by my pocketing
two thousand dollars--unless, perhaps, it was Mr. and Mrs. Constant
Scrappe who owned the goods. But that was none of my affair. I played
straight with the others, and that was all there was to it as far as I
was concerned.
III
THE ADVENTURE OF MRS. GASTER'S MAID
Two days after my bargain with Mr. Harold Van Gilt, in which he acquired
possession of the Scrappe jades and Mrs. Van Raffles and I shared the
proceeds of the ten thousand dollars check, I was installed at Bolivar
Lodge as head-butler and steward, my salary to consist of what I could
make out of it on the side, plus ten per cent. of the winnings of my
mistress. It was not long before I discovered that the job was a
lucrative one. From various tradesmen of the town I received presents of
no little value in the form sometimes of diamond scarf-pins, gold link
sleeve-buttons, cases of fine wines for my own use, and in one or two
instances checks of substantial value. There was also what was called a
steward's rebate on the monthly bills, which in circles where lavish
entertainment is the order of the day amounted to a tidy little income
in itself. My only embarrassment lay in the contact into which I was
necessarily brought with other butlers, with whom I was perforce
required to associate. This went very much against the grain at first,
for, although I am scarcely more than a thief after all, I am an
artistic one, and still retain the prejudice against inferior
associations which an English gentleman whatever the vicissitudes of his
career can never quite rid himself of. I had to join their club--an
exclusive organization of butlers and "gentlemen's gentlemen"--otherwise
valets--and in order to quiet all suspicion of my real status in the Van
Raffles household I was compelled to act the part in a fashion which
revolted me. Otherwise the position was pleasant, and, as I have
intimated, more than lucrative.
It did not take me many days to discover that Henriette was a worthy
successor to her late husband. Few opportunities for personal profit
escaped her eye, and I was able to observe as time went on and I noted
the accumulation of spoons, forks, nutcrackers, and gimcracks generally
that she brought home with her after her calls upon or dinners with
ladies of fashion that she had that quality of true genius which never
overlooks the smallest details.
The first big coup after my arrival, as the result of her genius, was in
the affair of Mrs. Gaster's maid. Henriette had been to a bridge
afternoon at Mrs. Gaster's and upon her return manifested an
extraordinary degree of excitement. Her color was high, and when she
spoke her voice was tremulous. Her disturbed condition was so evident
that my heart sank into my boots, for in our business nerve is a _sine
qua non_ of success, and it looked to me as if Henriette was losing
hers. She has probably lost at cards to-day, I thought, and it has
affected her usual calmness. I must do something to warn her against
this momentary weakness. With this idea in mind, when the opportunity
presented itself later I spoke.
"You lost at bridge to-day, Henriette," I said.
"Yes," she replied. "Twenty-five hundred dollars in two hours. How did
you guess?"
"By your manner," said I. "You are as nervous as a young girl at a
commencement celebration. This won't do, Henriette. Nerves will prove
your ruin, and if you can't stand your losses at bridge, what will you
do in the face of the greater crisis which in our profession is likely
to confront us in the shape of an unexpected visit of police at any
moment?"
Her answer was a ringing laugh.
"You absurd old rabbit," she murmured. "As if I cared about my losses at
bridge! Why, my dear Bunny, I lost that money on purpose. You don't
suppose that I am going to risk my popularity with these Newport ladies
by winning, do you? Not I, my boy. I plan too far ahead for that. For
the good of our cause it is my task to lose steadily and with good
grace. This establishes my credit, proves my amiability, and confirms my
popularity."
"But you are very much excited by something, Henriette," said I. "You
cannot deny that."
"I don't--but it is the prospect of future gain, not the reality of
present losses, that has taken me off my poise," she said. "Whom do you
suppose I saw at Mrs. Gaster's to-day?"
"No detectives, I hope," I replied, paling at the thought.
"No, sir," she laughed. "Mrs. Gaster's maid. We must get her, Bunny."
"Oh, tush!" I ejaculated. "All this powwow over another woman's maid!"
"You don't understand," said Henriette. "It wasn't the maid so much as
the woman that startled me, Bunny. You can't guess who she was."
"How should I?" I demanded.
"She was Fiametta de Belleville, one of the most expert hands in our
business. Poor old Raffles used to say that she diminished his income a
good ten thousand pounds a year by getting in her fine work ahead of
his," explained Henriette. "He pointed her out to me in Piccadilly once
and I have never forgotten her face."
"I hope she did not recognize you," I observed.
"No, indeed--she never saw me before, so how could she? But I knew her
the minute she took my cloak," said Henriette. "She's dyed her hair, but
her eyes were the same as ever, and that peculiar twist of the lip that
Raffles had spoken of as constituting one of her fascinations remained
unchanged. Moreover, just to prove myself right, I left my lace
handkerchief and a five hundred dollar bill in the cloak pocket. When I
got the cloak back both were gone. Oh, she's Fiametta de Belleville all
right, and we must get her."
"What for--to rob you?"
"No," returned Henrietta, "rather that we--but there, there, Bunny, I'll
manage this little thing myself. It's a trifle too subtle for a man's
intellect--especially when that man is you."
"What do you suppose she is doing here?" I asked.
"You silly boy," laughed Henriette.
"Doing? Why, Mrs. Gaster, of course. She is after the Gaster jewels."
"Humph!" I said, gloomily. "That cuts us out, doesn't it?"
"Does it?" asked Henriette, enigmatically.
It was about ten weeks later that the newspapers of the whole country
were ringing with the startling news of the mysterious disappearance of
Mrs. Gaster's jewels. The lady had been robbed of three hundred and
sixty-eight thousand dollars worth of gems, and there was apparently no
clew even to the thief. Henriette and I, of course, knew that Fiametta
de Belleville had accomplished her mission, but apparently no one else
knew it. True, she had been accused, and had been subjected to a most
rigid examination by the Newport police and the New York Central Office,
but no proof of any kind establishing her guilt could be adduced, and
after a week of suspicion she was to all intents and purposes relieved
of all odium.
"She'll skip now," said I.
"Not she," said Henriette. "To disappear now would be a confession of
guilt. If Fiametta de Belleville is the woman I take her for she'll stay
right here as if nothing had happened, but of course not at Mrs.
Gaster's."
"Where then?" I asked.
"With Mrs. A. J. Van Raffles," replied Henriette. "The fact is," she
added, "I have already engaged her. She has acted her part well, and has
seemed so prostrated by the unjust suspicion of the world that even Mrs.
Gaster is disturbed over her condition. She has asked her to remain, but
Fiametta has refused. 'I couldn't, madam,' she said when Mrs. Gaster
asked her to stay. 'You have accused me of a fearful crime--a crime of
which I am innocent--and--I'd rather work in a factory, or become a
shop-girl in a department store, than stay longer in a house where such
painful things have happened.' Result, next Tuesday Fiametta de
Belleville comes to me as _my_ maid."
"Well, Henriette," said I, "I presume you know your own business, but
why you lay yourself open to being robbed yourself and to having the
profits of your own business diminished I can't see. Please remember
that I warned you against this foolish act."
"All right, Bunny, I'll remember," smiled Mrs. Van Raffles, and there
the matter was dropped for the moment.
The following Tuesday Fiametta de Belleville was installed in the Van
Raffles household as the maid of Mrs. A. J. Van Raffles. To her eagle
eye it was another promising field for profit, for Henriette had spared
neither pains nor money to impress Fiametta with the idea that next to
Mrs. Gaster she was about as lavish and financially capable a
householder as could be found in the Social Capital of the United
States. As for me, I was the picture of gloom. The woman's presence in
our household could not be but a source of danger to our peace of mind
as well as to our profits, and for the life of me I could not see why
Henriette should want her there. But I was not long in finding out.
A week after Fiametta's arrival Mrs. Raffles rang hurriedly for me.
"Yes, madam," I said, responding immediately to her call.
"Bunny," she said, her hand trembling a little, "the hour for action has
arrived. I have just sent Fiametta on an errand to Providence. She will
be gone three hours."
"Yes!" said I. "What of it?"
"I want you during her absence to go with me to her room--"
The situation began to dawn on me.
"Yes!" I cried, breathlessly. "And search her trunks?"
"No, Bunny, no--the eaves," whispered Henriette. "I gave her that room
in the wing because it has so many odd cubby-holes where she could
conceal things. I am inclined to think--well, the moment she leaves the
city let me know. Follow her to the station, and don't return till you
know she is safely out of town and on her way to Providence. Then _our_
turn will come."
Oh, that woman! If I had not adored her before I--but enough. This is no
place for sentiment. The story is the thing, and I must tell it briefly.
I followed out Henriette's instructions to the letter, and an hour later
returned with the information that Fiametta was, indeed, safely on her
way.
"Good," said Mrs. Raffles. "And now, Bunny, for the Gaster jewels."
Mounting the stairs rapidly, taking care, of course, that there were
none of the other servants about to spy upon us, we came to the maid's
room. Everything in it betokened a high mind and a good character. There
were religious pictures upon the bureau, prayer-books, and some volumes
of essays of a spiritual nature were scattered about--nothing was there
to indicate that the occupant was anything but a simple, sweet child of
innocence except--
Well, Henriette was right--except the Gaster jewels. Even as my mistress
had suspected, they were cached under the eaves, snuggled close against
the huge dormer-window looking out upon the gardens; laid by for a
convenient moment to get them out of Newport, and then--back to England
for Fiametta. And what a gorgeous collection they were! Dog-collars of
diamonds, yards of pearl rope, necklaces of rubies of the most lustrous
color and of the size of pigeons' eggs, rings, brooches,
tiaras--everything in the way of jewelled ornament the soul of woman
could desire--all packed closely away in a tin box that I now remembered
Fiametta had brought with her in her hand the day of her arrival. And
now all these things were ours--Henriette's and mine--without our having
had to stir out-of-doors to get them. An hour later they were in the
safety-deposit vault of Mrs. A. J. Van Raffles in the sturdy cellars of
the Tiverton Trust Company, as secure against intrusion as though they
were locked in the heart of Gibraltar itself.
[Illustration: "HER SLIGHT LITTLE FIGURE CONVULSED WITH GRIEF"]
And Fiametta? Well--a week later she left Newport suddenly, her eyes red
with weeping and her slight little figure convulsed with grief. Her
favorite aunt had just died, she said, and she was going back to England
to bury her.
IV
THE PEARL ROPE OF MRS. GUSHINGTON-ANDREWS
"Bunny," said Henrietta one morning, shortly after we had come into
possession of the Gaster jewels, "how is your nerve? Are you ready for a
coup requiring a lot of it?"
"Well," I replied, pluming myself a bit, "I don't wish to boast,
Henriette, but I think it is pretty good. I managed to raise
twenty-seven hundred dollars on my own account by the use of it last
night."
"Indeed?" said Henriette, with a slight frown. "How, Bunny? You know you
are likely to complicate matters for all of us if you work on the side.
What, pray, did you do last night?"
And then I unfolded to her the incidents of the night before when, by
assuming at a moment's notice the position of valet to young Robertson
de Pelt, the frisky young favorite of the inner set, I had relieved that
high-flying young bachelor of fifteen hundred dollars in cash and some
twelve hundred dollars worth of jewels as well.
"I was spending the evening at the Gentlemen's Gentlemen's Club," I
explained, "when word came over the telephone to Digby, Mr. de Pelt's
valet, that Mr. de Pelt was at the Rockerbilts' and in no condition to
go home alone. It happened that it was I who took the message, and
observing that Digby was engaged in a game of billiards, and likely to
remain so for some time to come, I decided to go after the gentleman
myself without saying anything to Digby about it. Muffling myself up so
that no one could recognize me, I hired a cab and drove out to the
Rockerbilt mansion, sent in word that Mr. de Pelt's man was waiting for
him, and in ten minutes had the young gentleman in my possession. I took
him to his apartment, dismissed the cab, and, letting ourselves into his
room with his own latch-key, put him to bed. His clothes I took, as a
well-ordered valet should, from his bed-chamber into an adjoining room,
where, after removing the contents of his pockets, I hung them neatly
over a chair and departed, taking with me, of course, everything of
value the young gentleman had about him, even down to the two brilliant
rubies he wore in his garter buckles. This consisted of two handfuls of
crumpled twenty-dollar bills from his trousers, three rolls of
one-hundred-dollar bills from his waistcoat, and sundry other lots of
currency, both paper and specie, that I found stowed away in his
overcoat and dinner-coat pockets. There were also ten twenty-dollar
gold pieces in a little silver chain-bag he carried on his wrist. As I
say, there was about fifteen hundred dollars of this loose change, and I
reckon up the value of his studs, garter rubies, and finger-rings at
about twelve hundred dollars more, or a twenty-seven hundred dollars
pull in all. Eh?"
"Mercy, Bunny, that was a terribly risky thing. Suppose he had
recognized you?" cried Henriette.
"Oh, he did--or at least he thought he did," I replied, smiling broadly
at the recollection. "On the way home in the cab he wept on my shoulder
and said I was the best friend he ever had, and told me he loved me like
a brother. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for me, and if ever I
wanted an automobile or a grand-piano all I had to do was to ask him for
it. He was very genial."
"Well, Bunny," said Henriette, "you are very clever at times, but do be
careful. I am delighted to have you show your nerve now and then, but
please don't take any serious chances. If Mr. de Pelt ever recognizes
you--and he dines here next Wednesday--you'll get us both into awful
trouble."
Again I laughed. "He won't," said I, with a conviction born of
experience. "His geniality was of the kind that leaves the mind a blank
the following morning. I don't believe Mr. de Pelt remembers now that he
was at the Rockerbilts' last night, and even if he does, _you_ know that
I was in this house at eleven o'clock."
"I, Bunny? Why, I haven't seen you since dinner," she demurred.
"Nevertheless, Henriette, you know that I was in the house at eleven
o'clock last night--or, rather, you _will_ know it if you are ever
questioned on the subject, which you won't be," said I. "So, now that I
have shown you in just what shape my nerve is, what is the demand you
are going to put upon it?"
"You will have to bring to the enterprise all that ability which used to
characterize your efforts as an amateur actor, Bunny," she replied.
"Summon all your sang-froid to your aid; act with deliberation,
courtesy, and, above all, without the slightest manifestation of
nervousness, and we should win, not a petty little twenty-seven hundred
dollars, but as many thousands. You know Mrs. Gushington-Andrews?"
"Yes," said I. "She is the lady who asked me for the olives at your last
dinner."
"Precisely," observed Henriette. "You possibly observed also that
wherever she goes she wears about sixty-nine yards of pearl rope upon
her person."
"Rope?" I laughed. "I shouldn't call that rope. Cable, yes--frankly,
when she came into the dining-room the other night I thought it was a
feather-boa she had on."
"All pearls, Bunny, of the finest water," said Henriette,
enthusiastically. "There isn't one of the thousands that isn't worth
anywhere from five hundred to twenty-five hundred."
"And I am to land a yard or two of the stuff for you in some mysterious
way?" I demanded. "How is it to be--by kidnapping the lady, the snatch
and run game, or how?"
"Sarcasm does not suit your complexion, Bunny," retorted Henriette.
"Your best method is to follow implicitly the directions of wiser
brains. You are a first-class tool, but as a principal--well--well,
never mind. You do what I tell you and some of those pearls will be
ours. Mrs. Gushington-Andrews, as you may have noticed, is one of those
exceedingly effusive ladies who go into ecstasies over everything and
everybody. She is what Raffles used to call a palaverer. Where most
people nod she describes a complete circle with her head. When a cold,
formal handshake is necessary she perpetrates an embrace, and that is
where we come in. At my next Tuesday tea she will be present. She will
wear her pearls--she'll be strung with them from head to foot. A
rope-walk won't be in it with her, and every single little jewel will be
worth a small fortune. You, Bunny, will be in the room to announce her
when she arrives. She will rush to my arms, throw her own about my neck,
the ornaments of my corsage will catch the rope at two or more points,
sever the thread in several places, pearls will rain down upon the floor
by dozens, and then--"
"I'm to snatch 'em and dive through the window, eh?" I interrupted.
"No, Bunny--you will behave like a gentleman, that is all," she
responded, haughtily; "or rather like a butler with the instincts of a
gentleman. At my cry of dismay over the accident--"
"Better call it the incident," I put in.
"Hush! At my cry of dismay over the accident," Henriette repeated, "you
will spring forward, go down upon your knees, and gather up the jewels
by the handful. You will pour them back into Mrs. Gushington-Andrews's
hands and retire. Now, do you see?"
"H'm--yes," said I. "But how do you get the pearls if I pour them back
into her hands? Am I to slide some of them under the rugs, or flick them
with my thumb-nail under the piano--or what?"
"Nothing of the sort, Bunny; just do as I tell you--only bring your
gloves to me just before the guests arrive, that is all," said
Henriette. "Instinct will carry you through the rest of it."
And then the conspiracy stopped for the moment.
The following Tuesday at five the second of Mrs. Van Raffles's Tuesday
afternoons began. Fortune favored us in that it was a beautiful day and
the number of guests was large. Henriette was charming in her new gown
specially imported from Paris--a gown of Oriental design with row upon
row of brilliantly shining, crescent-shaped ornaments firmly affixed to
the front of it and every one of them as sharp as a steel knife. I could
see at a glance that even if so little as one of these fastened its
talons upon the pearl rope of Mrs. Gushington-Andrews nothing under
heaven could save it from laceration.
What a marvellous mind there lay behind those exquisite, childlike eyes
of the wonderful Henriette!
"Remember, Bunny--calm deliberation--your gloves now," were her last
words to me.
"Count on me, Henriette; but I still don't see--" I began.
"Hush! Just watch me," she replied.
Whereupon this wonderful creature, taking my white gloves, deliberately
smeared their palms and inner sides of the fingers with a milk-hued
paste of her own making, composed of talcum powder and liquid honey.
Nothing more innocent-appearing yet more villainously sticky have I ever
before encountered.
"There!" she said--and at last I understood.
An hour later our victim arrived and scarce an inch of her but shone
like a snow-clad hill with the pearls she wore. I stood at the portiere
and announced Mrs. Gushington-Andrews in my most blase but butlerian
tones. The lady fairly rushed by me, and in a moment her arms were about
Henriette's neck.
"You dear, sweet thing!" cried Mrs. Gushington-Andrews. "And you look
so exquisitely charming to-day--"
[Illustration: "AND THEN THERE CAME A RIPPING SOUND"]
And then there came a ripping sound. The two women started to draw away
from each other; five of the crescents catching in the rope, in the
impulsive jerking back of Mrs. Gushington-Andrews in order that she
might gaze into Henrietta's eyes, cut through the marvellous cords of
the exquisite jewels. There was a cry of dismay both from Henriette and
her guest, and the rug beneath their feet was simply white with riches.
In a moment I was upon my knees scooping them up by the handful.
"Oh, dear, how very unfortunate!" cried Henriette. "Here, dear," she
added, holding out a pair of teacups. "Let James pour them into this,"
and James, otherwise myself, did so to the extent of five teacups full
of them and then he discreetly retired.
* * * * *
"Well, Bunny," said Henriette, breathlessly, two hours later when her
last guest had gone. "Tell me quickly--what was the result?"
"These, madam," said I, handing her a small plush bag into which I had
poured the "salvage" taken from my sticky palms. "A good afternoon's
work," I added.
And, egad, it was: seventeen pearls of a value of twelve hundred dollars
each, fifteen worth scarcely less than nine hundred dollars apiece, and
some twenty-seven or eight smaller ones that we held to be worth in the
neighborhood of five hundred dollars each.
"Splendid!" cried Henrietta "Roughly speaking, Bunny, we've pulled in
between forty and fifty thousand dollars to-day."
[Illustration: "I, OF COURSE, DID NOT TELL HENRIETTE OF EIGHT BEAUTIES I
HAD KEPT OUT"]
"About that," said I, with an inward chuckle, for I, of course, did not
tell Henriette of eight beauties I had kept out of the returns for
myself. "But what are we going to do when Mrs. Gushington-Andrews
finds out that they are gone?"
"I shall provide for that," said this wonderful woman. "I shall throw
her off the scent by sending you over to her at once with sixteen of
these assorted. I hate to give them up, but I think it advisable to pay
that much as a sort of insurance against suspicion. Even then we'll be
thirty-five thousand dollars to the good. And, by-the-way, Bunny, I want
to congratulate you on one thing."
"Ah! What's that--my sang-froid, my nerve?" I asked, airily.
"No, the size of your hands," said Henriette. "The superficial area of
those palms of yours has been worth ten thousand dollars to us to-day."
V
THE ADVENTURE OF THE STEEL BONDS
"Excuse me, Henriette," said I one morning, after I had been in Mrs. Van
Raffles's employ for about three months and had begun to calculate as to
my share of the profits. "What are you doing with all this money we are
gradually accumulating? There must be pretty near a million in hand by
this time--eh?"
"One million two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred and
twenty-eight dollars and thirty-six cents," replied Henriette instantly.
"It's a tidy little sum."
"Almost enough to retire on," I suggested.
"Now, Bunny, stop that!" retorted Henriette. "Either stop it or else
retire yourself. I am not what they call a quitter in this country, and
I do not propose at the very height of my career to give up a business
which I have struggled for years to establish."
"That is all very well, Henriette," said I. "But the pitcher that goes
to the bat too often strikes out at last." (I had become a baseball
fiend during my sojourn in the States.) "A million dollars is a pot of
money, and it's my advice to you to get away with it as soon as you
can."