The Amateur Cracksman

by E. W. Hornung

  Produced by Judith Boss. HTML version by Al Haines.

  THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN

  BY

  E. W. HORNUNG

  TO A. C. D. THIS FORM OF FLATTERY

  THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN

  CONTENTS

  THE IDES OF MARCH A COSTUME PIECE GENTLEMEN AND PLAYERS LE PREMIER PAS WILFUL MURDER NINE POINTS OF THE LAW THE RETURN MATCH THE GIFT OF THE EMPEROR

  THE IDES OF MARCH

  I

  It was half-past twelve when I returned to the Albany as a lastdesperate resort. The scene of my disaster was much as I had left it.The baccarat-counters still strewed the table, with the empty glassesand the loaded ash-trays. A window had been opened to let the smokeout, and was letting in the fog instead. Raffles himself had merelydiscarded his dining jacket for one of his innumerable blazers. Yet hearched his eyebrows as though I had dragged him from his bed.

  "Forgotten something?" said he, when he saw me on his mat.

  "No," said I, pushing past him without ceremony. And I led the wayinto his room with an impudence amazing to myself.

  "Not come back for your revenge, have you? Because I'm afraid I can'tgive it to you single-handed. I was sorry myself that the others--"

  We were face to face by his fireside, and I cut him short.

  "Raffles," said I, "you may well be surprised at my coming back in thisway and at this hour. I hardly know you. I was never in your roomsbefore to-night. But I fagged for you at school, and you said youremembered me. Of course that's no excuse; but will you listen tome--for two minutes?"

  In my emotion I had at first to struggle for every word; but his facereassured me as I went on, and I was not mistaken in its expression.

  "Certainly, my dear man," said he; "as many minutes as you like. Havea Sullivan and sit down." And he handed me his silver cigarette-case.

  "No," said I, finding a full voice as I shook my head; "no, I won'tsmoke, and I won't sit down, thank you. Nor will you ask me to doeither when you've heard what I have to say."

  "Really?" said he, lighting his own cigarette with one clear blue eyeupon me. "How do you know?"

  "Because you'll probably show me the door," I cried bitterly; "and youwill be justified in doing it! But it's no use beating about the bush.You know I dropped over two hundred just now?"

  He nodded.

  "I hadn't the money in my pocket."

  "I remember."

  "But I had my check-book, and I wrote each of you a check at that desk."

  "Well?"

  "Not one of them was worth the paper it was written on, Raffles. I amoverdrawn already at my bank!"

  "Surely only for the moment?"

  "No. I have spent everything."

  "But somebody told me you were so well off. I heard you had come in formoney?"

  "So I did. Three years ago. It has been my curse; now it's allgone--every penny! Yes, I've been a fool; there never was nor will besuch a fool as I've been.... Isn't this enough for you? Why don't youturn me out?" He was walking up and down with a very long face instead.

  "Couldn't your people do anything?" he asked at length.

  "Thank God," I cried, "I have no people! I was an only child. I camein for everything there was. My one comfort is that they're gone, andwill never know."

  I cast myself into a chair and hid my face. Raffles continued to pacethe rich carpet that was of a piece with everything else in his rooms.There was no variation in his soft and even footfalls.

  "You used to be a literary little cuss," he said at length; "didn't youedit the mag. before you left? Anyway I recollect fagging you to do myverses; and literature of all sorts is the very thing nowadays; anyfool can make a living at it."

  I shook my head. "Any fool couldn't write off my debts," said I.

  "Then you have a flat somewhere?" he went on.

  "Yes, in Mount Street."

  "Well, what about the furniture?"

  I laughed aloud in my misery. "There's been a bill of sale on everystick for months!"

  And at that Raffles stood still, with raised eyebrows and stern eyesthat I could meet the better now that he knew the worst; then, with ashrug, he resumed his walk, and for some minutes neither of us spoke.But in his handsome, unmoved face I read my fate and death-warrant; andwith every breath I cursed my folly and my cowardice in coming to himat all. Because he had been kind to me at school, when he was captainof the eleven, and I his fag, I had dared to look for kindness from himnow; because I was ruined, and he rich enough to play cricket all thesummer, and do nothing for the rest of the year, I had fatuouslycounted on his mercy, his sympathy, his help! Yes, I had relied on himin my heart, for all my outward diffidence and humility; and I wasrightly served. There was as little of mercy as of sympathy in thatcurling nostril, that rigid jaw, that cold blue eye which never glancedmy way. I caught up my hat. I blundered to my feet. I would havegone without a word; but Raffles stood between me and the door.

  "Where are you going?" said he.

  "That's my business," I replied. "I won't trouble YOU any more."

  "Then how am I to help you?"

  "I didn't ask your help."

  "Then why come to me?"

  "Why, indeed!" I echoed. "Will you let me pass?"

  "Not until you tell me where you are going and what you mean to do."

  "Can't you guess?" I cried. And for many seconds we stood staring ineach other's eyes.

  "Have you got the pluck?" said he, breaking the spell in a tone socynical that it brought my last drop of blood to the boil.

  "You shall see," said I, as I stepped back and whipped the pistol frommy overcoat pocket. "Now, will you let me pass or shall I do it here?"

  The barrel touched my temple, and my thumb the trigger. Mad withexcitement as I was, ruined, dishonored, and now finally determined tomake an end of my misspent life, my only surprise to this day is that Idid not do so then and there. The despicable satisfaction of involvinganother in one's destruction added its miserable appeal to my baseregoism; and had fear or horror flown to my companion's face, I shudderto think I might have died diabolically happy with that look for mylast impious consolation. It was the look that came instead which heldmy hand. Neither fear nor horror were in it; only wonder, admiration,and such a measure of pleased expectancy as caused me after all topocket my revolver with an oath.

  "You devil!" I said. "I believe you wanted me to do it!"

  "Not quite," was the reply, made with a little start, and a change ofcolor that came too late. "To tell you the truth, though, I halfthought you meant it, and I was never more fascinated in my life. Inever dreamt you had such stuff in you, Bunny! No, I'm hanged if I letyou go now. And you'd better not try that game again, for you won'tcatch me stand and look on a second time. We must think of some wayout of the mess. I had no idea you were a chap of that sort! There,let me have the gun."

  One of his hands fell kindly on my shoulder, while the other slippedinto my overcoat pocket, and I suffered him to deprive me of my weaponwithout a murmur. Nor was this simply because Raffles had the subtlepower of making himself irresistible at will. He was beyond comparisonthe most masterful man whom I have ever known; yet my acquiescence wasdue to more than the mere subjection of the weaker nature to thestronger. The forlorn hope which had brought me to the Albany wasturned as by magic into an almost staggering sense of safety. Raffleswould help me after all! A. J. Raffles would be my friend! It was asthough all the world had come round suddenly to my side; so fartherefore from resisting his action, I caught and clasped his hand witha fervor as uncontrollable as the frenzy which had preceded it.

  "God bless you!" I cried. "Forgive me for everything. I will tell youthe truth. I DID think
you might help me in my extremity, though Iwell knew that I had no claim upon you. Still--for the old school'ssake--the sake of old times--I thought you might give me anotherchance. If you wouldn't I meant to blow out my brains--and will stillif you change your mind!"

  In truth I feared that it was changing, with his expression, even as Ispoke, and in spite of his kindly tone and kindlier use of my oldschool nickname. His next words showed me my mistake.

  "What a boy it is for jumping to conclusions! I have my vices, Bunny,but backing and filling is not one of them. Sit down, my good fellow,and have a cigarette to soothe your nerves. I insist. Whiskey? Theworst thing for you; here's some coffee that I was brewing when youcame in. Now listen to me. You speak of 'another chance.' What doyou mean? Another chance at baccarat? Not if I know it! You thinkthe luck must turn; suppose it didn't? We should only have made badworse. No, my dear chap, you've plunged enough. Do you put yourself inmy hands or do you not? Very well, then you plunge no more, and Iundertake not to present my check. Unfortunately there are the othermen; and still more unfortunately, Bunny, I'm as hard up at this momentas you are yourself!"

  It was my turn to stare at Raffles. "You?" I vociferated. "You hardup? How am I to sit here and believe that?"

  "Did I refuse to believe it of you?" he returned, smiling. "And, withyour own experience, do you think that because a fellow has rooms inthis place, and belongs to a club or two, and plays a little cricket,he must necessarily have a balance at the bank? I tell you, my dearman, that at this moment I'm as hard up as you ever were. I havenothing but my wits to live on--absolutely nothing else. It was asnecessary for me to win some money this evening as it was for you.We're in the same boat, Bunny; we'd better pull together."

  "Together!" I jumped at it. "I'll do anything in this world for you,Raffles," I said, "if you really mean that you won't give me away.Think of anything you like, and I'll do it! I was a desperate man whenI came here, and I'm just as desperate now. I don't mind what I do ifonly I can get out of this without a scandal."

  Again I see him, leaning back in one of the luxurious chairs with whichhis room was furnished. I see his indolent, athletic figure; his pale,sharp, clean-shaven features; his curly black hair; his strong,unscrupulous mouth. And again I feel the clear beam of his wonderfuleye, cold and luminous as a star, shining into my brain--sifting thevery secrets of my heart.

  "I wonder if you mean all that!" he said at length. "You do in yourpresent mood; but who can back his mood to last? Still, there's hopewhen a chap takes that tone. Now I think of it, too, you were a pluckylittle devil at school; you once did me rather a good turn, Irecollect. Remember it, Bunny? Well, wait a bit, and perhaps I'll beable to do you a better one. Give me time to think."

  He got up, lit a fresh cigarette, and fell to pacing the room oncemore, but with a slower and more thoughtful step, and for a much longerperiod than before. Twice he stopped at my chair as though on thepoint of speaking, but each time he checked himself and resumed hisstride in silence. Once he threw up the window, which he had shut sometime since, and stood for some moments leaning out into the fog whichfilled the Albany courtyard. Meanwhile a clock on the chimney-piecestruck one, and one again for the half-hour, without a word between us.

  Yet I not only kept my chair with patience, but I acquired anincongruous equanimity in that half-hour. Insensibly I had shifted myburden to the broad shoulders of this splendid friend, and my thoughtswandered with my eyes as the minutes passed. The room was thegood-sized, square one, with the folding doors, the marblemantel-piece, and the gloomy, old-fashioned distinction peculiar to theAlbany. It was charmingly furnished and arranged, with the rightamount of negligence and the right amount of taste. What struck memost, however, was the absence of the usual insignia of a cricketer'sden. Instead of the conventional rack of war-worn bats, a carved oakbookcase, with every shelf in a litter, filled the better part of onewall; and where I looked for cricketing groups, I found reproductionsof such works as "Love and Death" and "The Blessed Damozel," in dustyframes and different parallels. The man might have been a minor poetinstead of an athlete of the first water. But there had always been afine streak of aestheticism in his complex composition; some of thesevery pictures I had myself dusted in his study at school; and they setme thinking of yet another of his many sides--and of the littleincident to which he had just referred.

  Everybody knows how largely the tone of a public school depends on thatof the eleven, and on the character of the captain of cricket inparticular; and I have never heard it denied that in A. J. Raffles'stime our tone was good, or that such influence as he troubled to exertwas on the side of the angels. Yet it was whispered in the school thathe was in the habit of parading the town at night in loud checks and afalse beard. It was whispered, and disbelieved. I alone knew it for afact; for night after night had I pulled the rope up after him when therest of the dormitory were asleep, and kept awake by the hour to let itdown again on a given signal. Well, one night he was over-bold, andwithin an ace of ignominious expulsion in the hey-day of his fame.Consummate daring and extraordinary nerve on his part, aided,doubtless, by some little presence of mind on mine, averted theuntoward result; and no more need be said of a discreditable incident.But I cannot pretend to have forgotten it in throwing myself on thisman's mercy in my desperation. And I was wondering how much of hisleniency was owing to the fact that Raffles had not forgotten iteither, when he stopped and stood over my chair once more.

  "I've been thinking of that night we had the narrow squeak," he began."Why do you start?"

  "I was thinking of it too."

  He smiled, as though he had read my thoughts.

  "Well, you were the right sort of little beggar then, Bunny; you didn'ttalk and you didn't flinch. You asked no questions and you told notales. I wonder if you're like that now?"

  "I don't know," said I, slightly puzzled by his tone. "I've made sucha mess of my own affairs that I trust myself about as little as I'mlikely to be trusted by anybody else. Yet I never in my life went backon a friend. I will say that, otherwise perhaps I mightn't be in sucha hole to-night."

  "Exactly," said Raffles, nodding to himself, as though in assent tosome hidden train of thought; "exactly what I remember of you, and I'llbet it's as true now as it was ten years ago. We don't alter, Bunny.We only develop. I suppose neither you nor I are really altered sinceyou used to let down that rope and I used to come up it hand over hand.You would stick at nothing for a pal--what?"

  "At nothing in this world," I was pleased to cry.

  "Not even at a crime?" said Raffles, smiling.

  I stopped to think, for his tone had changed, and I felt sure he waschaffing me. Yet his eye seemed as much in earnest as ever, and for mypart I was in no mood for reservations.

  "No, not even at that," I declared; "name your crime, and I'm your man."

  He looked at me one moment in wonder, and another moment in doubt; thenturned the matter off with a shake of his head, and the little cynicallaugh that was all his own.

  "You're a nice chap, Bunny! A real desperate character--what? Suicideone moment, and any crime I like the next! What you want is a drag, myboy, and you did well to come to a decent law-abiding citizen with areputation to lose. None the less we must have that money to-night--byhook or crook."

  "To-night, Raffles?"

  "The sooner the better. Every hour after ten o'clock to-morrow morningis an hour of risk. Let one of those checks get round to your ownbank, and you and it are dishonored together. No, we must raise thewind to-night and re-open your account first thing to-morrow. And Irather think I know where the wind can be raised."

  "At two o'clock in the morning?"

  "Yes."

  "But how--but where--at such an hour?"

  "From a friend of mine here in Bond Street."

  "He must be a very intimate friend!"

  "Intimate's not the word. I have the run of his place and a latch-keyall to myself."


  "You would knock him up at this hour of the night?"

  "If he's in bed."

  "And it's essential that I should go in with you?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Then I must; but I'm bound to say I don't like the idea, Raffles."

  "Do you prefer the alternative?" asked my companion, with a sneer."No, hang it, that's unfair!" he cried apologetically in the samebreath. "I quite understand. It's a beastly ordeal. But it wouldnever do for you to stay outside. I tell you what, you shall have apeg before we start--just one. There's the whiskey, here's a syphon,and I'll be putting on an overcoat while you help yourself."

  Well, I daresay I did so with some freedom, for this plan of his wasnot the less distasteful to me from its apparent inevitability. I mustown, however, that it possessed fewer terrors before my glass wasempty. Meanwhile Raffles rejoined me, with a covert coat over hisblazer, and a soft felt hat set carelessly on the curly head he shookwith a smile as I passed him the decanter.

  "When we come back," said he. "Work first, play afterward. Do you seewhat day it is?" he added, tearing a leaflet from a Shakespeariancalendar, as I drained my glass. "March 15th. 'The Ides of March, theIdes of March, remember.' Eh, Bunny, my boy? You won't forget them,will you?"

  And, with a laugh, he threw some coals on the fire before turning downthe gas like a careful householder. So we went out together as theclock on the chimney-piece was striking two.

  II

  Piccadilly was a trench of raw white fog, rimmed with blurredstreet-lamps, and lined with a thin coating of adhesive mud. We met noother wayfarers on the deserted flagstones, and were ourselves favoredwith a very hard stare from the constable of the beat, who, however,touched his helmet on recognizing my companion.

  "You see, I'm known to the police," laughed Raffles as we passed on."Poor devils, they've got to keep their weather eye open on a nightlike this! A fog may be a bore to you and me, Bunny, but it's aperfect godsend to the criminal classes, especially so late in theirseason. Here we are, though--and I'm hanged if the beggar isn't in bedand asleep after all!"

  We had turned into Bond Street, and had halted on the curb a few yardsdown on the right. Raffles was gazing up at some windows across theroad, windows barely discernible through the mist, and without theglimmer of a light to throw them out. They were over a jeweller's shop,as I could see by the peep-hole in the shop door, and the bright lightburning within. But the entire "upper part," with the privatestreet-door next the shop, was black and blank as the sky itself.

  "Better give it up for to-night," I urged. "Surely the morning will betime enough!"

  "Not a bit of it," said Raffles. "I have his key. We'll surprise him.Come along."

  And seizing my right arm, he hurried me across the road, opened thedoor with his latch-key, and in another moment had shut it swiftly butsoftly behind us. We stood together in the dark. Outside, a measuredstep was approaching; we had heard it through the fog as we crossed thestreet; now, as it drew nearer, my companion's fingers tightened on myarm.

  "It may be the chap himself," he whispered. "He's the devil of anight-bird. Not a sound, Bunny! We'll startle the life out of him.Ah!"

  The measured step had passed without a pause. Raffles drew a deepbreath, and his singular grip of me slowly relaxed.

  "But still, not a sound," he continued in the same whisper; "we'll takea rise out of him, wherever he is! Slip off your shoes and follow me."

  Well, you may wonder at my doing so; but you can never have met A. J.Raffles. Half his power lay in a conciliating trick of sinking thecommander in the leader. And it was impossible not to follow one wholed with such a zest. You might question, but you followed first. Sonow, when I heard him kick off his own shoes, I did the same, and wason the stairs at his heels before I realized what an extraordinary waywas this of approaching a stranger for money in the dead of night. Butobviously Raffles and he were on exceptional terms of intimacy, and Icould not but infer that they were in the habit of playing practicaljokes upon each other.

  We groped our way so slowly upstairs that I had time to make more thanone note before we reached the top. The stair was uncarpeted. Thespread fingers of my right hand encountered nothing on the damp wall;those of my left trailed through a dust that could be felt on thebanisters. An eerie sensation had been upon me since we entered thehouse. It increased with every step we climbed. What hermit were wegoing to startle in his cell?

  We came to a landing. The banisters led us to the left, and to theleft again. Four steps more, and we were on another and a longerlanding, and suddenly a match blazed from the black. I never heard itstruck. Its flash was blinding. When my eyes became accustomed to thelight, there was Raffles holding up the match with one hand, andshading it with the other, between bare boards, stripped walls, and theopen doors of empty rooms.

  "Where have you brought me?" I cried. "The house is unoccupied!"

  "Hush! Wait!" he whispered, and he led the way into one of the emptyrooms. His match went out as we crossed the threshold, and he struckanother without the slightest noise. Then he stood with his back tome, fumbling with something that I could not see. But, when he threwthe second match away, there was some other light in its stead, and aslight smell of oil. I stepped forward to look over his shoulder, butbefore I could do so he had turned and flashed a tiny lantern in myface.

  "What's this?" I gasped. "What rotten trick are you going to play?"

  "It's played," he answered, with his quiet laugh.

  "On me?"

  "I am afraid so, Bunny."

  "Is there no one in the house, then?"

  "No one but ourselves."

  "So it was mere chaff about your friend in Bond Street, who could letus have that money?"

  "Not altogether. It's quite true that Danby is a friend of mine."

  "Danby?"

  "The jeweller underneath."

  "What do you mean?" I whispered, trembling like a leaf as his meaningdawned upon me. "Are we to get the money from the jeweller?"

  "Well, not exactly."

  "What, then?"

  "The equivalent--from his shop."

  There was no need for another question. I understood everything but myown density. He had given me a dozen hints, and I had taken none. Andthere I stood staring at him, in that empty room; and there he stoodwith his dark lantern, laughing at me.

  "A burglar!" I gasped. "You--you!"

  "I told you I lived by my wits."

  "Why couldn't you tell me what you were going to do? Why couldn't youtrust me? Why must you lie?" I demanded, piqued to the quick for allmy horror.

  "I wanted to tell you," said he. "I was on the point of telling youmore than once. You may remember how I sounded you about crime, thoughyou have probably forgotten what you said yourself. I didn't think youmeant it at the time, but I thought I'd put you to the test. Now I seeyou didn't, and I don't blame you. I only am to blame. Get out of it,my dear boy, as quick as you can; leave it to me. You won't give meaway, whatever else you do!"

  Oh, his cleverness! His fiendish cleverness! Had he fallen back onthreats, coercion, sneers, all might have been different even yet. Buthe set me free to leave him in the lurch. He would not blame me. Hedid not even bind me to secrecy; he trusted me. He knew my weaknessand my strength, and was playing on both with his master's touch.

  "Not so fast," said I. "Did I put this into your head, or were yougoing to do it in any case?"

  "Not in any case," said Raffles. "It's true I've had the key for days,but when I won to-night I thought of chucking it; for, as a matter offact, it's not a one-man job."

  "That settles it. I'm your man."

  "You mean it?"

  "Yes--for to-night."

  "Good old Bunny," he murmured, holding the lantern for one moment to myface; the next he was explaining his plans, and I was nodding, asthough we had been fellow-cracksmen all our days.

  "I know the shop," he whispered, "because I've got a few things t
here.I know this upper part too; it's been to let for a month, and I got anorder to view, and took a cast of the key before using it. The onething I don't know is how to make a connection between the two; atpresent there's none. We may make it up here, though I rather fancy thebasement myself. If you wait a minute I'll tell you."

  He set his lantern on the floor, crept to a back window, and opened itwith scarcely a sound: only to return, shaking his head, after shuttingthe window with the same care.

  "That was our one chance," said he; "a back window above a back window;but it's too dark to see anything, and we daren't show an outsidelight. Come down after me to the basement; and remember, though there'snot a soul on the premises, you can't make too little noise.There--there--listen to that!"

  It was the measured tread that we had heard before on the flagstonesoutside. Raffles darkened his lantern, and again we stood motionlesstill it had passed.

  "Either a policeman," he muttered, "or a watchman that all thesejewellers run between them. The watchman's the man for us to watch;he's simply paid to spot this kind of thing."

  We crept very gingerly down the stairs, which creaked a bit in spite ofus, and we picked up our shoes in the passage; then down some narrowstone steps, at the foot of which Raffles showed his light, and put onhis shoes once more, bidding me do the same in a rather louder tonethan he had permitted himself to employ overhead. We were nowconsiderably below the level of the street, in a small space with asmany doors as it had sides. Three were ajar, and we saw through theminto empty cellars; but in the fourth a key was turned and a boltdrawn; and this one presently let us out into the bottom of a deep,square well of fog. A similar door faced it across this area, andRaffles had the lantern close against it, and was hiding the light withhis body, when a short and sudden crash made my heart stand still.Next moment I saw the door wide open, and Raffles standing within andbeckoning me with a jimmy.

  "Door number one," he whispered. "Deuce knows how many more there'llbe, but I know of two at least. We won't have to make much noise overthem, either; down here there's less risk."

  We were now at the bottom of the exact fellow to the narrow stone stairwhich we had just descended: the yard, or well, being the one partcommon to both the private and the business premises. But this flightled to no open passage; instead, a singularly solid mahogany doorconfronted us at the top.

  "I thought so," muttered Raffles, handing me the lantern, and pocketinga bunch of skeleton keys, after tampering for a few minutes with thelock. "It'll be an hour's work to get through that!"

  "Can't you pick it?"

  "No: I know these locks. It's no use trying. We must cut it out, andit'll take us an hour."

  It took us forty-seven minutes by my watch; or, rather, it tookRaffles; and never in my life have I seen anything more deliberatelydone. My part was simply to stand by with the dark lantern in onehand, and a small bottle of rock-oil in the other.

  Raffles had produced a pretty embroidered case, intended obviously forhis razors, but filled instead with the tools of his secret trade,including the rock-oil. From this case he selected a "bit," capable ofdrilling a hole an inch in diameter, and fitted it to a small but verystrong steel "brace." Then he took off his covert-coat and his blazer,spread them neatly on the top step--knelt on them--turned up his shirtcuffs--and went to work with brace-and-bit near the key-hole. Butfirst he oiled the bit to minimize the noise, and this he didinvariably before beginning a fresh hole, and often in the middle ofone. It took thirty-two separate borings to cut around that lock.

  I noticed that through the first circular orifice Raffles thrust aforefinger; then, as the circle became an ever-lengthening oval, he gothis hand through up to the thumb; and I heard him swear softly tohimself.

  "I was afraid so!"

  "What is it?"

  "An iron gate on the other side!"

  "How on earth are we to get through that?" I asked in dismay.

  "Pick the lock. But there may be two. In that case they'll be top andbottom, and we shall have two fresh holes to make, as the door opensinwards. It won't open two inches as it is."

  I confess I did not feel sanguine about the lock-picking, seeing thatone lock had baffled us already; and my disappointment and impatiencemust have been a revelation to me had I stopped to think. The truth isthat I was entering into our nefarious undertaking with an involuntaryzeal of which I was myself quite unconscious at the time. The romanceand the peril of the whole proceeding held me spellbound and entranced.My moral sense and my sense of fear were stricken by a commonparalysis. And there I stood, shining my light and holding my phialwith a keener interest than I had ever brought to any honest avocation.And there knelt A. J. Raffles, with his black hair tumbled, and thesame watchful, quiet, determined half-smile with which I have seen himsend down over after over in a county match!

  At last the chain of holes was complete, the lock wrenched out bodily,and a splendid bare arm plunged up to the shoulder through theaperture, and through the bars of the iron gate beyond.

  "Now," whispered Raffles, "if there's only one lock it'll be in themiddle. Joy! Here it is! Only let me pick it, and we're through atlast."

  He withdrew his arm, a skeleton key was selected from the bunch, andthen back went his arm to the shoulder. It was a breathless moment. Iheard the heart throbbing in my body, the very watch ticking in mypocket, and ever and anon the tinkle-tinkle of the skeleton key.Then--at last--there came a single unmistakable click. In anotherminute the mahogany door and the iron gate yawned behind us; andRaffles was sitting on an office table, wiping his face, with thelantern throwing a steady beam by his side.

  We were now in a bare and roomy lobby behind the shop, but separatedtherefrom by an iron curtain, the very sight of which filled me withdespair. Raffles, however, did not appear in the least depressed, buthung up his coat and hat on some pegs in the lobby before examiningthis curtain with his lantern.

  "That's nothing," said he, after a minute's inspection; "we'll bethrough that in no time, but there's a door on the other side which maygive us trouble."

  "Another door!" I groaned. "And how do you mean to tackle this thing?"

  "Prise it up with the jointed jimmy. The weak point of these ironcurtains is the leverage you can get from below. But it makes a noise,and this is where you're coming in, Bunny; this is where I couldn't dowithout you. I must have you overhead to knock through when thestreet's clear. I'll come with you and show a light."

  Well, you may imagine how little I liked the prospect of this lonelyvigil; and yet there was something very stimulating in the vitalresponsibility which it involved. Hitherto I had been a merespectator. Now I was to take part in the game. And the freshexcitement made me more than ever insensible to those considerations ofconscience and of safety which were already as dead nerves in my breast.

  So I took my post without a murmur in the front room above the shop.The fixtures had been left for the refusal of the incoming tenant, andfortunately for us they included Venetian blinds which were alreadydown. It was the simplest matter in the world to stand peeping throughthe laths into the street, to beat twice with my foot when anybody wasapproaching, and once when all was clear again. The noises that even Icould hear below, with the exception of one metallic crash at thebeginning, were indeed incredibly slight; but they ceased altogether ateach double rap from my toe; and a policeman passed quite half a dozentimes beneath my eyes, and the man whom I took to be the jeweller'swatchman oftener still, during the better part of an hour that I spentat the window. Once, indeed, my heart was in my mouth, but only once.It was when the watchman stopped and peered through the peep-hole intothe lighted shop. I waited for his whistle--I waited for the gallowsor the gaol! But my signals had been studiously obeyed, and the manpassed on in undisturbed serenity.

  In the end I had a signal in my turn, and retraced my steps withlighted matches, down the broad stairs, down the narrow ones, acrossthe area, and up into the lobby where Raffles awaited me with anoutstret
ched hand.

  "Well done, my boy!" said he. "You're the same good man in a pinch,and you shall have your reward. I've got a thousand pounds' worth ifI've got a penn'oth. It's all in my pockets. And here's somethingelse I found in this locker; very decent port and some cigars, meantfor poor dear Danby's business friends. Take a pull, and you shalllight up presently. I've found a lavatory, too, and we must have awash-and-brush-up before we go, for I'm as black as your boot."

  The iron curtain was down, but he insisted on raising it until I couldpeep through the glass door on the other side and see his handiwork inthe shop beyond. Here two electric lights were left burning all nightlong, and in their cold white rays I could at first see nothing amiss.I looked along an orderly lane, an empty glass counter on my left,glass cupboards of untouched silver on my right, and facing me thefilmy black eye of the peep-hole that shone like a stage moon on thestreet. The counter had not been emptied by Raffles; its contents werein the Chubb's safe, which he had given up at a glance; nor had helooked at the silver, except to choose a cigarette case for me. He hadconfined himself entirely to the shop window. This was in threecompartments, each secured for the night by removable panels withseparate locks. Raffles had removed them a few hours before their time,and the electric light shone on a corrugated shutter bare as the ribsof an empty carcase. Every article of value was gone from the oneplace which was invisible from the little window in the door; elsewhereall was as it had been left overnight. And but for a train of mangleddoors behind the iron curtain, a bottle of wine and a cigar-box withwhich liberties had been taken, a rather black towel in the lavatory, aburnt match here and there, and our finger-marks on the dustybanisters, not a trace of our visit did we leave.

  "Had it in my head for long?" said Raffles, as we strolled through thestreets towards dawn, for all the world as though we were returningfrom a dance. "No, Bunny, I never thought of it till I saw that upperpart empty about a month ago, and bought a few things in the shop toget the lie of the land. That reminds me that I never paid for them;but, by Jove, I will to-morrow, and if that isn't poetic justice, whatis? One visit showed me the possibilities of the place, but a secondconvinced me of its impossibilities without a pal. So I hadpractically given up the idea, when you came along on the very nightand in the very plight for it! But here we are at the Albany, and Ihope there's some fire left; for I don't know how you feel, Bunny, butfor my part I'm as cold as Keats's owl."

  He could think of Keats on his way from a felony! He could hanker forhis fireside like another! Floodgates were loosed within me, and theplain English of our adventure rushed over me as cold as ice. Raffleswas a burglar. I had helped him to commit one burglary, therefore Iwas a burglar, too. Yet I could stand and warm myself by his fire, andwatch him empty his pockets, as though we had done nothing wonderful orwicked!

  My blood froze. My heart sickened. My brain whirled. How I had likedthis villain! How I had admired him! Now my liking and admirationmust turn to loathing and disgust. I waited for the change. I longedto feel it in my heart. But--I longed and I waited in vain!

  I saw that he was emptying his pockets; the table sparkled with theirhoard. Rings by the dozen, diamonds by the score; bracelets, pendants,aigrettes, necklaces, pearls, rubies, amethysts, sapphires; anddiamonds always, diamonds in everything, flashing bayonets of light,dazzling me--blinding me--making me disbelieve because I could nolonger forget. Last of all came no gem, indeed, but my own revolverfrom an inner pocket. And that struck a chord. I suppose I saidsomething--my hand flew out. I can see Raffles now, as he looked at meonce more with a high arch over each clear eye. I can see him pick outthe cartridges with his quiet, cynical smile, before he would give memy pistol back again.

  "You mayn't believe it, Bunny," said he, "but I never carried a loadedone before. On the whole I think it gives one confidence. Yet itwould be very awkward if anything went wrong; one might use it, andthat's not the game at all, though I have often thought that themurderer who has just done the trick must have great sensations beforethings get too hot for him. Don't look so distressed, my dear chap.I've never had those sensations, and I don't suppose I ever shall."

  "But this much you have done before?" said I hoarsely.

  "Before? My dear Bunny, you offend me! Did it look like a firstattempt? Of course I have done it before."

  "Often?"

  "Well--no! Not often enough to destroy the charm, at all events;never, as a matter of fact, unless I'm cursedly hard up. Did you hearabout the Thimbleby diamonds? Well, that was the last time--and a poorlot of paste they were. Then there was the little business of theDormer house-boat at Henley last year. That was mine also--such as itwas. I've never brought off a really big coup yet; when I do I shallchuck it up."

  Yes, I remembered both cases very well. To think that he was theirauthor! It was incredible, outrageous, inconceivable. Then my eyeswould fall upon the table, twinkling and glittering in a hundredplaces, and incredulity was at an end.

  "How came you to begin?" I asked, as curiosity overcame mere wonder,and a fascination for his career gradually wove itself into myfascination for the man.

  "Ah! that's a long story," said Raffles. "It was in the Colonies, whenI was out there playing cricket. It's too long a story to tell younow, but I was in much the same fix that you were in to-night, and itwas my only way out. I never meant it for anything more; but I'dtasted blood, and it was all over with me. Why should I work when Icould steal? Why settle down to some humdrum uncongenial billet, whenexcitement, romance, danger and a decent living were all going beggingtogether? Of course it's very wrong, but we can't all be moralists,and the distribution of wealth is very wrong to begin with. Besides,you're not at it all the time. I'm sick of quoting Gilbert's lines tomyself, but they're profoundly true. I only wonder if you'll like thelife as much as I do!"

  "Like it?" I cried out. "Not I! It's no life for me. Once is enough!"

  "You wouldn't give me a hand another time?"

  "Don't ask me, Raffles. Don't ask me, for God's sake!"

  "Yet you said you would do anything for me! You asked me to name mycrime! But I knew at the time you didn't mean it; you didn't go backon me to-night, and that ought to satisfy me, goodness knows! Isuppose I'm ungrateful, and unreasonable, and all that. I ought to letit end at this. But you're the very man for me, Bunny, the--very--man!Just think how we got through to-night. Not a scratch--not a hitch!There's nothing very terrible in it, you see; there never would be,while we worked together."

  He was standing in front of me with a hand on either shoulder; he wassmiling as he knew so well how to smile. I turned on my heel, plantedmy elbows on the chimney-piece, and my burning head between my hands.Next instant a still heartier hand had fallen on my back.

  "All right, my boy! You are quite right and I'm worse than wrong.I'll never ask it again. Go, if you want to, and come again aboutmid-day for the cash. There was no bargain; but, of course, I'll getyou out of your scrape--especially after the way you've stood by meto-night."

  I was round again with my blood on fire.

  "I'll do it again," I said, through my teeth.

  He shook his head. "Not you," he said, smiling quite good-humoredly onmy insane enthusiasm.

  "I will," I cried with an oath. "I'll lend you a hand as often as youlike! What does it matter now? I've been in it once. I'll be in itagain. I've gone to the devil anyhow. I can't go back, and wouldn'tif I could. Nothing matters another rap! When you want me, I'm yourman!"

  And that is how Raffles and I joined felonious forces on the Ides ofMarch.