"I should mind less," said Raffles, "if the fellow were really playing my game. But abuse of hospitality was never one of my strokes, and it seems to me the only shot he's got. When we took old Lady Melrose's necklace, Bunny, we were not staying with the Melroses, if you recollect10."
We were discussing the robberies for the hundredth time, but for once under conditions more favorable to animated11 conversation than our unique circumstances permitted in the flat. We did not often dine out. Dr. Theobald was one impediment, the risk of recognition was another. But there were exceptions, when the doctor was away or the patient defiant12, and on these rare occasions we frequented a certain unpretentious restaurant in the Fulham quarter, where the cooking was plain but excellent, and the cellar a surprise. Our bottle of '89 champagne13 was empty to the label when the subject arose, to be touched by Raffles in the reminiscent manner indicated above. I can see his clear eye upon me now, reading me, weighing me. But I was not so sensitive to his scrutiny14 at the time. His tone was deliberate, calculating, preparatory; not as I heard it then, through a head full of wine, but as it floats back to me across the gulf15 between that moment and this.
"Excellent fillet!" said I, grossly. "So you think this chap is as much in society as we were, do you?"
I preferred not to think so myself. We had cause enough for jealousy16 without that. But Raffles raised his eyebrows17 an eloquent18 half-inch.
"As much, my dear Bunny? He is not only in it, but of it; there's no comparison between us there. Society is in rings like a target, and we never were in the bull's-eye, however thick you may lay on the ink! I was asked for my cricket. I haven't forgotten it yet. But this fellow's one of themselves, with the right of entre into the houses which we could only 'enter' in a professional sense. That's obvious unless all these little exploits are the work of different hands, which they as obviously are not. And it's why I'd give five hundred pounds to put salt on him to-night!"
"But I would, my dear Bunny. Waiter! another half-bottle of this," and Raffles leant across the table as the empty one was taken away. "I never was more serious in my life," he continued below his breath. "Whatever else our successor may be, he's not a dead man like me, or a marked man like you. If there's any truth in my theory he's one of the last people upon whom suspicion is ever likely to rest; and oh, Bunny, what a partner he would make for you and me!"
Under less genial20 influences the very idea of a third partner would have filled my soul with offence; but Raffles had chosen his moment unerringly, and his arguments lost nothing by the flowing accompaniment of the extra pint21. They were, however, quite strong in themselves. The gist5 of them was that thus far we had remarkably22 little to show for what Raffles would call "our second innings." This even I could not deny. We had scored a few "long singles," but our "best shots" had gone "straight to hand," and we were "playing a deuced slow game." Therefore we needed a new partner—and the metaphor23 failed Raffles.
It had served its turn. I already agreed with him. In truth I was tired of my false position as hireling attendant, and had long fancied myself an object of suspicion to that other impostor the doctor. A fresh, untrammelled start was a fascinating idea to me, though two was company, and three in our case might be worse than none. But I did not see how we could hope, with our respective handicaps, to solve a problem which was already the despair of Scotland Yard.
"How could you?" I asked, without believing for an instant that he had.
"I have been taking the Morning Post for some time now."
"Well?"
"You have got me a good many odd numbers of the less base society papers."
"I can't for the life of me see what you're driving at."
Raffles smiled indulgently as he cracked another nut.
"That's because you've neither observation nor imagination, Bunny—and yet you try to write! Well, you wouldn't think it, but I have a fairly complete list of the people who were at the various functions under cover of which these different little coups25 were brought off."
I said very stolidly26 that I did not see how that could help him. It was the only answer to his good-humored but self-satisfied contempt; it happened also to be true.
"Think," said Raffles, in a patient voice.
"When thieves break in and steal," said I, "upstairs, I don't see much point in discovering who was downstairs at the time."
"Quite," said Raffles—"when they do break in."
"But that's what they have done in all these cases. An upstairs door found screwed up, when things were at their height below; thief gone and jewels with him before alarm could be raised. Why, the trick's so old that I never knew you condescend27 to play it."
"Not so old as it looks," said Raffles, choosing the cigars and handing me mine. "Cognac or Benedictine, Bunny?"
"Brandy," I said, coarsely.
"Besides," he went on, "the rooms were not screwed up; at Dorchester House, at any rate, the door was only locked, and the key missing, so that it might have been done on either side."
"But that was where he left his rope-ladder behind him!" I exclaimed in triumph; but Raffles only shook his head.
"I don't believe in that rope-ladder, Bunny, except as a blind."
"Then what on earth do you believe?"
"That every one of these so-called burglaries has been done from the inside, by one of the guests; and what's more I'm very much mistaken if I haven't spotted28 the right sportsman."
I began to believe that he really had, there was such a wicked gravity in the eyes that twinkled faintly into mine. I raised my glass in convivial29 congratulation, and still remember the somewhat anxious eye with which Raffles saw it emptied.
"I can only find one likely name," he continued, "that figures in all these lists, and it is anything but a likely one at first sight. Lord Ernest Belville was at all those functions. Know anything about him, Bunny?"
"Yes."
"That's all I want to know."
"Quite," said Raffles; "and yet what could be more promising31? A man whose views are so broad and moderate, and so widely held already (saving your presence, Bunny), does not bore the world with them without ulterior motives32. So far so good. What are this chap's motives? Does he want to advertise himself? No, he's somebody already. But is he rich? On the contrary, he's as poor as a rat for his position, and apparently33 without the least ambition to be anything else; certainly he won't enrich himself by making a public fad34 of what all sensible people are agreed upon as it is. Then suddenly one gets one's own old idea—the alternative profession! My cricket—his Rational Drink! But it is no use jumping to conclusions. I must know more than the newspapers can tell me. Our aristocratic friend is forty, and unmarried. What has he been doing all these years? How the devil was I to find out?"
"How did you?" I asked, declining to spoil my digestion35 with a conundrum36, as it was his evident intention that I should.
"You—interviewed him?" I echoed. "When—and where?"
"Last Thursday night, when, if you remember, we kept early hours, because I felt done. What was the use of telling you what I had up my sleeve, Bunny? It might have ended in fizzle, as it still may. But Lord Ernest Belville was addressing the meeting at Exeter Hall; I waited for him when the show was over, dogged him home to King John's Mansions38, and interviewed him in his own rooms there before he turned in."
My journalistic jealousy was piqued39 to the quick. Affecting a scepticism I did not feel (for no outrage40 was beyond the pale of his impudence), I inquired dryly which journal Raffles had pretended to represent. It is unnecessary to report his answer. I could not believe him without further explanation.
"I should have thought," he said, "that even you would have spotted a practice I never omit upon certain occasions. I always pay a visit to the drawing-room, and fill my waistcoat pocket from the card-tray. It is an immense help in any little temporary impersonation. On Thursday night I sent up the card of a powerful writer connected with a powerful paper; if Lord Ernest had known him in the flesh I should have been obliged to confess to a journalistic ruse41; luckily he didn't—and I had been sent by my editor to get the interview for next morning. What could be better—for the alternative profession?"
"Everything," said Raffles. "Lord Ernest has been a wanderer these twenty years. Texas, Fiji, Australia. I suspect him of wives and families in all three. But his manners are a liberal education. He gave me some beautiful whiskey, and forgot all about his fad. He is strong and subtle, but I talked him off his guard. He is going to the Kirkleathams' to-night—I saw the card stuck up. I stuck some wax into his keyhole as he was switching off the lights."
And, with an eye upon the waiters, Raffles showed me a skeleton key, newly twisted and filed; but my share of the extra pint (I am afraid no fair share) had made me dense43. I looked from the key to Raffles with puckered44 forehead—for I happened to catch sight of it in the mirror behind him.
"The Dowager Lady Kirkleatham," he whispered, "has diamonds as big as beans, and likes to have 'em all on—and goes to bed early—and happens to be in town!"
And now I saw.
"And I mean to get them from the villain," said Raffles; "or, rather, your share and mine."
"Will he consent to a partnership46?"
"We shall have him at our mercy. He daren't refuse."
Raffles's plan was to gain access to Lord Ernest's rooms before midnight; there we were to lie in wait for the aristocratic rascal47, and if I left all details to Raffles, and simply stood by in case of a rumpus, I should be playing my part and earning my share. It was a part that I had played before, not always with a good grace, though there had never been any question about the share. But to-night I was nothing loath48. I had had just champagne enough—how Raffles knew my measure!—and I was ready and eager for anything. Indeed, I did not wish to wait for the coffee, which was to be especially strong by order of Raffles. But on that he insisted, and it was between ten and eleven when at last we were in our cab.
"It would be fatal to be too early," he said as we drove; "on the other hand, it would be dangerous to leave it too late. One must risk something. How I should love to drive down Piccadilly and see the lights! But unnecessary risks are another story."
点击收听单词发音
1 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
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2 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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3 raffles | |
n.抽彩售物( raffle的名词复数 )v.以抽彩方式售(物)( raffle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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4 callous | |
adj.无情的,冷淡的,硬结的,起老茧的 | |
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5 gist | |
n.要旨;梗概 | |
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6 feats | |
功绩,伟业,技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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7 calumnies | |
n.诬蔑,诽谤,中伤(的话)( calumny的名词复数 ) | |
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8 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
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9 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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10 recollect | |
v.回忆,想起,记起,忆起,记得 | |
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11 animated | |
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
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12 defiant | |
adj.无礼的,挑战的 | |
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13 champagne | |
n.香槟酒;微黄色 | |
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14 scrutiny | |
n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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15 gulf | |
n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
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16 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
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17 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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18 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
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19 festive | |
adj.欢宴的,节日的 | |
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20 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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21 pint | |
n.品脱 | |
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22 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
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23 metaphor | |
n.隐喻,暗喻 | |
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24 walnut | |
n.胡桃,胡桃木,胡桃色,茶色 | |
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25 coups | |
n.意外而成功的行动( coup的名词复数 );政变;努力办到难办的事 | |
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26 stolidly | |
adv.迟钝地,神经麻木地 | |
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27 condescend | |
v.俯就,屈尊;堕落,丢丑 | |
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28 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
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29 convivial | |
adj.狂欢的,欢乐的 | |
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30 fanatic | |
n.狂热者,入迷者;adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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31 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
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32 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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33 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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34 fad | |
n.时尚;一时流行的狂热;一时的爱好 | |
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35 digestion | |
n.消化,吸收 | |
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36 conundrum | |
n.谜语;难题 | |
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37 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
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38 mansions | |
n.宅第,公馆,大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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39 piqued | |
v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 );激起(好奇心) | |
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40 outrage | |
n.暴行,侮辱,愤怒;vt.凌辱,激怒 | |
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41 ruse | |
n.诡计,计策;诡计 | |
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42 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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43 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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44 puckered | |
v.(使某物)起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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46 partnership | |
n.合作关系,伙伴关系 | |
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47 rascal | |
n.流氓;不诚实的人 | |
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48 loath | |
adj.不愿意的;勉强的 | |
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