"No."
"Good! Pocket some of these cases--no time to open them. Which door's
nearest the backstairs?"
"The other."
"Come on then!"
"No, no, I'll lead the way. I know every inch of it."
And, as I leaned against the bedroom door, handle in hand, while
Raffles stooped to unscrew the gimlet and withdraw the wedge, I hit
upon the ideal port in the storm that was evidently about to burst on
our devoted heads. It was the last place in which they would look for
a couple of expert cracksmen with no previous knowledge of the house.
If only we could gain my haven unobserved, there we might lie in
unsuspected hiding, and by the hour, if not for days and nights.
Alas for that sanguine dream! The wedge was out, and Raffles on his
feet behind me. I opened the door, and for a second the pair of us
stood upon the threshold.
Creeping up the stairs before us, each on the tip of his silken toes,
was a serried file of pink barbarians, redder in the face than
anywhere else, and armed with crops carried by the wrong end. The
monumental person with the short moustache led the advance. The fool
stood still upon the top step to let out the loudest and cheeriest
view-holloa that ever smote my ears.
It cost him more than he may know until I tell him. There was the wide
part of the landing between us; we had just that much start along the
narrow part, with the walls and doors upon our left, the banisters on
our right, and the baize door at the end. But if the great Guillemard
had not stopped to live up to his sporting reputation, he would
assuredly have laid one or other of us by the heels, and either would
have been tantamount to both. As I gave Raffles a headlong lead to the
baize door, I glanced down the great well of stairs, and up came the
daft yells of these sporting oafs:
"Gone away--gone away!"
"Yoick--yoick--yoick!"
"_Yon_-der they go!"
And gone I had, through the baize door to the back landing, with
Raffles at my heels. I held the swing door for him, and heard him bang
it in the face of the spluttering and blustering master of the house.
Other feet were already in the lower flight of the backstairs; but the
upper flight was the one for me, and in an instant we were racing
along the upper corridor with the chuckle-headed pack at our heels.
Here it was all but dark--they were the servants' bedrooms that we
were passing now--but I knew what I was doing. Round the last corner
to the right, through the first door to the left and we were in the
room underneath the tower. In our time a long step-ladder had led to
the tower itself. I rushed in the dark to the old corner. Thank God,
the ladder was there still! It leaped under us as we rushed aloft like
one quadruped. The breakneck trap-door was still protected by a curved
brass stanchion; this I grasped with one hand, and then Raffles with
the other as I felt my feet firm upon the tower floor. In he sprawled
after me, and down went the trap-door with a bang upon the leading
hound.
I hoped to feel his dead-weight shake the house, as he crashed upon
the floor below; but the fellow must have ducked, and no crash came.
Meanwhile not a word passed between Raffles and me; he had followed
me, as I had led him, without waste of breath upon a single syllable.
But the merry lot below were still yelling and bellowing in full cry.
"Gone to ground!" screamed one.
"Where's the terrier?" screeched another.
But their host of the mighty girth--a man like a soda-water bottle,
from my one glimpse of him on his feet--seemed sobered rather than
stunned by the crack on that head of his. We heard his fine voice no
more, but we could feel him straining every thew against the trap-door
upon which Raffles and I stood side by side. At least I thought
Raffles was standing, until he asked me to strike a light, when I
found him on his knees instead of on his feet, busy screwing down the
trap-door with his gimlet. He carried three or four gimlets for
wedging doors, and he drove them all in to the handle, while I pulled
at the stanchion and pushed with my feet.
[Illustration: Down went the trap-door with a bang.]
But the upward pressure ceased before our efforts. We heard the ladder
creak again under a ponderous and slow descent; and we stood upright
in the dim flicker of a candle-end that I had lit and left burning on
the floor. Raffles glanced at the four small windows in turn and then
at me.
"Is there any way out at all?" he whispered, as no other being would
or could have whispered to the man who had led him into such a trap.
"We've no rope-ladder, you know."
"Thanks to me," I groaned. "The whole thing's my fault!"
"Nonsense, Bunny; there was no other way to run. But what about these
windows?"
His magnanimity took me by the throat; without a word I led him to the
one window looking inward upon sloping slates and level leads. Often
as a boy I had clambered over them, for the fearful fun of risking
life and limb, or the fascination of peering through the great square
skylight, down the well of the house into the hall below. There were,
however, several smaller skylights, for the benefit of the top floor,
through any one of which I thought we might have made a dash. But at a
glance I saw we were too late: one of these skylights became a
brilliant square before our eyes; opened, and admitted a flushed face
on flaming shoulders.
"I'll give them a fright!" said Raffles through his teeth. In an
instant he had plucked out his revolver, smashed the window with its
butt, and the slates with a bullet not a yard from the protruding
head. And that, I believe, was the only shot that Raffles ever fired
in his whole career as a midnight marauder.
"You didn't hit him?" I gasped, as the head disappeared, and we heard
a crash in the corridor.
"Of course I didn't, Bunny," he replied, backing into the tower; "but
no one will believe I didn't mean to, and it'll stick on ten years if
we're caught. That's nothing, if it gives us an extra five minutes
now, while they hold a council of war. Is that a working flag-staff
overhead?"
"It used to be."
"Then there'll be halliards."
"They were as thin as clothes-lines."
"And they're sure to be rotten, and we should be seen cutting them
down. No, Bunny, that won't do. Wait a bit. Is there a lightning
conductor?"
"There was."
I opened one of the side windows and reached out as far as I could.
"You'll be seen from that skylight!" cried Raffles in a warning
undertone.
"No, I won't. I can't see it myself. But here's the
lightning-conductor, where it always was."
"How thick," asked Raffles, as I drew in and rejoined him.
"Rather thicker than a lead-pencil."
"They sometimes bear you," said Raffles, slipping on a pair of white
kid gloves, and stuffing his handkerchief into the palm of one. "The
difficulty is to keep a grip; but I've been up and down them before
to-night. And it's our only chance. I'll go first, Bunny: you watch
me, and do exactly as I do if I get down all right."
"But if you don't!"
"If I don't," whispered Raffles, as he wormed through the window feet
foremost, "I'm afraid you'll have to face the music where you are, and
I shall have the best of it down in Acheron!"
And he slid out of reach without another word, leaving me to shudder
alike at his levity and his peril; nor could I follow him very far by
the wan light of the April stars; but I saw his forearms resting a
moment in the spout that ran around the tower, between bricks and
slates, on the level of the floor; and I had another dim glimpse of
him lower still, on the eaves over the very room that we had
ransacked. Thence the conductor ran straight to earth in an angle of
the facade. And since it had borne him thus far without mishap, I felt
that Raffles was as good as down. But I had neither his muscles nor
his nerves, and my head swam as I mounted to the window and prepared
to creep out backward in my turn.
So it was that at the last moment I had my first unobstructed view of
the little old tower of other days. Raffles was out of the way; the
bit of candle was still burning on the floor, and in its dim light the
familiar haunt was cruelly like itself of innocent memory. A lesser
ladder still ascended to a tinier trap-door in the apex of the tower;
the fixed seats looked to me to be wearing their old, old coat of
grained varnish; nay the varnish had its ancient smell, and the very
vanes outside creaked their message to my ears. I remembered whole
days that I had spent, whole books that I had read, here in this
favorite fastness of my boyhood. The dirty little place, with the
dormer window in each of its four sloping sides, became a gallery
hung with poignant pictures of the past. And here was I leaving it
with my life in my hands and my pockets full of stolen jewels! A
superstition seized me. Suppose the conductor came down with me ...
suppose I slipped ... and was picked up dead, with the proceeds of my
shameful crime upon me, under the very windows
... where the sun
Came peeping in at dawn....
I hardly remember what I did or left undone. I only know that nothing
broke, that somehow I kept my hold, and that in the end the wire ran
red-hot through my palms so that both were torn and bleeding when I
stood panting beside Raffles in the flower-beds. There was no time for
thinking then. Already there was a fresh commotion in-doors; the tidal
wave of excitement which had swept all before it to the upper regions
was subsiding in as swift a rush down-stairs; and I raced after
Raffles along the edge of the drive without daring to look behind.
We came out by the opposite gate to that by which we had stolen in.
Sharp to the right ran the private lane behind the stables and sharp
to the right dashed Raffles, instead of straight along the open road.
It was not the course I should have chosen, but I followed Raffles
without a murmur, only too thankful that he had assumed the lead at
last. Already the stables were lit up like a chandelier; there was a
staccato rattle of horse-shoes in the stable yard, and the great gates
were opening as we skimmed past in the nick of time. In another minute
we were skulking in the shadow of the kitchen-garden wall while the
high-road rang with the dying tattoo of galloping hoofs.
"That's for the police," said Raffles, waiting for me. "But the fun's
only beginning in the stables. Hear the uproar, and see the lights! In
another minute they'll be turning out the hunters for the last run of
the season!"
"We mustn't give them one, Raffles!"
"Of course we mustn't; but that means stopping where we are."
"We can't do that!"
"If they're wise they'll send a man to every railway station within
ten miles and draw every cover inside the radius. I can only think of
one that's not likely to occur to them."
"What's that?"
"The other side of this wall. How big is the garden, Bunny?"
"Six or seven acres."
"Well, you must take me to another of your old haunts, where we can
lie low till morning."
"And then?"
"Sufficient for the night, Bunny! The first thing is to find a burrow.
What are those trees at the end of this lane?"
"St. Leonard's Forest."
"Magnificent! They'll scour every inch of that before they come back
to their own garden. Come, Bunny, give me a leg up, and I'll pull you
after me in two ticks!"
There was indeed nothing better to be done; and, much as I loathed and
dreaded entering the place again, I had already thought of a second
sanctuary of old days, which might as well be put to the base uses of
this disgraceful night. In a far corner of the garden, over a hundred
yards from the house, a little ornamental lake had been dug within my
own memory; its shores were shelving lawn and steep banks of
rhododendrons; and among the rhododendrons nestled a tiny boat-house
which had been my childish joy. It was half a dock for the dingy in
which one plowed these miniature waters and half a bathing-box for
those who preferred their morning tub among the goldfish. I could not
think of a safer asylum than this, if we must spend the night upon the
premises; and Raffles agreed with me when I had led him by sheltering
shrubbery and perilous lawn to the diminutive _chalet_ between the
rhododendrons and the water.
But what a night it was! The little bathing-box had two doors, one to
the water, the other to the path. To hear all that could be heard, it
was necessary to keep both doors open, and quite imperative not to
talk. The damp night air of April filled the place, and crept through
our evening-clothes and light overcoats into the very marrow; the
mental torture of the situation was renewed and multiplied in my
brain; and all the time one's ears were pricked for footsteps on the
path between the rhododendrons. The only sounds we could at first
identify came one and all from the stables. Yet there the excitement
subsided sooner than we had expected, and it was Raffles himself who
breathed a doubt as to whether they were turning out the hunters after
all. On the other hand, we heard wheels in the drive not long after
midnight; and Raffles, who was beginning to scout among the
shrubberies, stole back to tell me that the guests were departing, and
being sped, with an unimpaired conviviality which he failed to
understand. I said I could not understand it either, but suggested the
general influence of liquor, and expressed my envy of their state. I
had drawn my knees up to my chin, on the bench where one used to dry
one's self after bathing, and there I sat in a seeming stolidity at
utter variance with my inward temper. I heard Raffles creep forth
again and I let him go without a word. I never doubted that he would
be back again in a minute, and so let many minutes elapse before I
realized his continued absence, and finally crept out myself to look
for him.
Even then I only supposed that he had posted himself outside in some
more commanding position. I took a catlike stride and breathed his
name. There was no answer. I ventured further, till I could overlook
the lawns: they lay like clean slates in the starlight: there was no
sign of living thing nearer than the house, which was still lit up,
but quiet enough now. Was it a cunning and deliberate quiet assumed as
a snare? Had they caught Raffles, and were they waiting for me? I
returned to the boat-house in an agony of fear and indignation. It was
fear for the long hours that I sat there waiting for him; it was
indignation when at last I heard his stealthy step upon the gravel. I
would not go out to meet him. I sat where I was while the stealthy
step came nearer, nearer; and there I was sitting when the door
opened, and a huge man in riding-clothes stood before me in the steely
dawn.
I leaped to my feet, and the huge man clapped me playfully on the
shoulder.
"Sorry I've been so long, Bunny, but we should never have got away as
we were; this riding-suit makes a new man of me, on top of my own, and
here's a youth's kit that should do you down to the ground."
"So you broke into the house again!"
"I was obliged to, Bunny; but I had to watch the lights out one by
one, and give them a good hour after that. I went through that
dressing-room at my leisure this time; the only difficulty was to spot
the son's quarters at the back of the house; but I overcame it, as you
see, in the end. I only hope they'll fit, Bunny. Give me your patent
leathers, and I'll fill them with stones and sink them in the pond.
I'm doing the same with mine. Here's a brown pair apiece, and we
mustn't let the grass grow under them if we're to get to the station
in time for the early train while the coast's still clear."
The early train leaves the station in question at 6.20 A.M.; and that
fine spring morning there was a police officer in a peaked cap to see
it off; but he was too busy peering into the compartments for a pair
of very swell mobsmen that he took no notice of the huge man in
riding-clothes, who was obviously intoxicated, or the more
insignificant but not less horsy character who had him in hand. The
early train is due at Victoria at 8.28, but these worthies left it at
Clapham Junction, and changed cabs more than once between Battersea
and Piccadilly, and a few of their garments in each four-wheeler. It
was barely nine o'clock when they sat together in the Albany, and
might have been recognized once more as Raffles and myself.
"And now," said Raffles, "before we do anything else, let us turn out
those little cases that we hadn't time to open when we took them. I
mean the ones I handed to you, Bunny. I had a look into mine in the
garden, and I'm sorry to say there was nothing in them. The lady must
have been wearing their proper contents."
Raffles held out his hand for the substantial leather cases which I
had produced at his request. But that was the extent of my compliance;
instead of handing them over, I looked boldly into the eyes that
seemed to have discerned my wretched secret at one glance.
"It is no use my giving them to you," I said. "They are empty also."
"When did you look into them?"
"In the tower."
"Well, let me see for myself."
"As you like."
"My dear Bunny, this one must have contained the necklace you boasted
about."
"Very likely."
"And this one the tiara."
"I dare say."
"Yet she was wearing neither, as you prophesied, and as we both saw
for ourselves!"
I had not taken my eyes from his.
"Raffles," I said, "I'll be frank with you after all. I meant you
never to know, but it's easier than telling you a lie. I left both
things behind me in the tower. I won't attempt to explain or defend
myself; it was probably the influence of the tower, and nothing else;
but the whole thing came over me at the last moment, when you had gone
and I was going. I felt that I should very probably break my neck,
that I cared very little whether I did or not, but that it would be
frightful to break it at that house with those things in my pocket.
You may say I ought to have thought of all that before! you may say
what you like, and you won't say more than I deserve. It was
hysterical, and it was mean, for I kept the cases to impose on you."
"You were always a bad liar, Bunny," said Raffles, smiling. "Will you
think me one when I tell you that I can understand what you felt, and
even what you did? As a matter of fact, I have understood for several
hours now."
"You mean what I felt, Raffles?"
"And what you did. I guessed it in the boat-house. I knew that
something must have happened or been discovered to disperse that
truculent party of sportsmen so soon and on such good terms with
themselves. They had not got us; they might have got something better
worth having; and your phlegmatic attitude suggested what. As luck
would have it, the cases that I personally had collared were the empty
ones; the two prizes had fallen to you. Well, to allay my horrid
suspicion, I went and had another peep through the lighted venetians.
And what do you think I saw?"
I shook my head. I had no idea, nor was I very eager for
enlightenment.
"The two poor people whom it was your own idea to despoil," quoth
Raffles, "prematurely gloating over these two pretty things!"
He withdrew a hand from either pocket of his crumpled dinner-jacket,
and opened the pair under my nose. In one was a diamond tiara, and in
the other a necklace of fine emeralds set in clusters of brilliants.
"You must try to forgive me, Bunny," continued Raffles before I could
speak. "I don't say a word against what you did, or undid; in fact,
now it's all over, I am rather glad to think that you did try to undo
it. But, my dear fellow, we had both risked life, limb, and liberty;
and I had not your sentimental scruples. Why should I go empty away?
If you want to know the inner history of my second visit to that good
fellow's dressing-room, drive home for a fresh kit and meet me at the
Turkish bath in twenty minutes. I feel more than a little grubby, and
we can have our breakfast in the cooling gallery. Besides, after a
whole night in your old haunts, Bunny, it's only in order to wind up
in Northumberland Avenue."
The Raffles Relics
It was in one of the magazines for December, 1899, that an article
appeared which afforded our minds a brief respite from the then
consuming excitement of the war in South Africa. These were the days
when Raffles really had white hair, and when he and I were nearing the
end of our surreptitious second innings, as professional cracksmen of
the deadliest dye. Piccadilly and the Albany knew us no more. But we
still operated, as the spirit tempted us, from our latest and most
idyllic base, on the borders of Ham Common. Recreation was our
greatest want; and though we had both descended to the humble bicycle,
a lot of reading was forced upon us in the winter evenings. Thus the
war came as a boon to us both. It not only provided us with an honest
interest in life, but gave point and zest to innumerable spins across
Richmond Park, to the nearest paper shop; and it was from such an
expedition that I returned with inflammatory matter unconnected with
the war. The magazine was one of those that are read (and sold) by
the million; the article was rudely illustrated on every other page.
Its subject was the so-called Black Museum at Scotland Yard; and from
the catchpenny text we first learned that the gruesome show was now
enriched by a special and elaborate exhibit known as the Raffles
Relics.
"Bunny," said Raffles, "this is fame at last! It is no longer
notoriety; it lifts one out of the ruck of robbers into the society of
the big brass gods, whose little delinquencies are written in water by
the finger of time. The Napoleon Relics we know, the Nelson Relics
we've heard about, and here are mine!"
"Which I wish to goodness we could see," I added, longingly. Next
moment I was sorry I had spoken. Raffles was looking at me across the
magazine. There was a smile on his lips that I knew too well, a light
in his eyes that I had kindled.
"What an excellent idea!" he exclaimed, quite softly, as though
working it out already in his brain.
"I didn't mean it for one," I answered, "and no more do you."
"Certainly I do," said Raffles. "I was never more serious in my
life."
"You would march into Scotland Yard in broad daylight?"
"In broad lime-light," he answered, studying the magazine again, "to
set eyes on my own once more. Why here they all are, Bunny--you never
told me there was an illustration. That's the chest you took to your
bank with me inside, and those must be my own rope-ladder and things
on top. They produce so badly in the baser magazines that it's
impossible to swear to them; there's nothing for it but a visit of
inspection."
"Then you can pay it alone," said I grimly. "You may have altered, but
they'd know me at a glance."
"By all means, Bunny, if you'll get me the pass."
"A pass!" I cried triumphantly. "Of course we should have to get one,
and of course that puts an end to the whole idea. Who on earth would
give a pass for this show, of all others, to an old prisoner like me?"
Raffles addressed himself to the reading of the magazine with a shrug
that showed some temper.
"The fellow who wrote this article got one," said he shortly. "He got
it from his editor, and you can get one from yours if you tried. But
pray don't try, Bunny: it would be too terrible for you to risk a
moment's embarrassment to gratify a mere whim of mine. And if I went
instead of you and got spotted, which is so likely with this head of
hair, and the general belief in my demise, the consequences to you
would be too awful to contemplate! Don't contemplate them, my dear
fellow. And do let me read my magazine."