"Cricket," said Raffles, "like everything else, is good enough sport until you discover a better. As a source of excitement it isn't in it with other things you wot of, Bunny, and the involuntary comparison becomes a bore. What's the satisfaction of taking a man's wicket when you want his spoons? Still, if you can bowl a bit your low cunning won't get rusty7, and always looking for the weak spot's just the kind of mental exercise one wants. Yes, perhaps there's some affinity8 between the two things after all. But I'd chuck up cricket to-morrow, Bunny, if it wasn't for the glorious protection it affords a person of my proclivities9."
"How so?" said I. "It brings you before the public, I should have thought, far more than is either safe or wise."
"My dear Bunny, that's exactly where you make a mistake. To follow Crime with reasonable impunity10 you simply MUST have a parallel, ostensible11 career—the more public the better. The principle is obvious. Mr. Peace, of pious12 memory, disarmed13 suspicion by acquiring a local reputation for playing the fiddle14 and taming animals, and it's my profound conviction that Jack15 the Ripper was a really eminent16 public man, whose speeches were very likely reported alongside his atrocities17. Fill the bill in some prominent part, and you'll never be suspected of doubling it with another of equal prominence18. That's why I want you to cultivate journalism19, my boy, and sign all you can. And it's the one and only reason why I don't burn my bats for firewood."
Nevertheless, when he did play there was no keener performer on the field, nor one more anxious to do well for his side. I remember how he went to the nets, before the first match of the season, with his pocket full of sovereigns, which he put on the stumps20 instead of bails22. It was a sight to see the professionals bowling23 like demons24 for the hard cash, for whenever a stump21 was hit a pound was tossed to the bowler and another balanced in its stead, while one man took #3 with a ball that spreadeagled the wicket. Raffles's practice cost him either eight or nine sovereigns; but he had absolutely first-class bowling all the time; and he made fifty-seven runs next day.
It became my pleasure to accompany him to all his matches, to watch every ball he bowled, or played, or fielded, and to sit chatting with him in the pavilion when he was doing none of these three things. You might have seen us there, side by side, during the greater part of the Gentlemen's first innings against the Players (who had lost the toss) on the second Monday in July. We were to be seen, but not heard, for Raffles had failed to score, and was uncommonly25 cross for a player who cared so little for the game. Merely taciturn with me, he was positively26 rude to more than one member who wanted to know how it had happened, or who ventured to commiserate27 him on his luck; there he sat, with a straw hat tilted28 over his nose and a cigarette stuck between lips that curled disagreeably at every advance. I was therefore much surprised when a young fellow of the exquisite29 type came and squeezed himself in between us, and met with a perfectly30 civil reception despite the liberty. I did not know the boy by sight, nor did Raffles introduce us; but their conversation proclaimed at once a slightness of acquaintanceship and a license32 on the lad's part which combined to puzzle me. Mystification reached its height when Raffles was informed that the other's father was anxious to meet him, and he instantly consented to gratify that whim33.
"He's in the Ladies' Enclosure. Will you come round now?"
"With pleasure," says Raffles. "Keep a place for me, Bunny."
And they were gone.
"Young Crowley," said some voice further back. "Last year's Harrow Eleven."
"I remember him. Worst man in the team."
"Keen cricketer, however. Stopped till he was twenty to get his colors. Governor made him. Keen breed. Oh, pretty, sir! Very pretty!"
The game was boring me. I only came to see old Raffles perform. Soon I was looking wistfully for his return, and at length I saw him beckoning34 me from the palings to the right.
"Want to introduce you to old Amersteth," he whispered, when I joined him. "They've a cricket week next month, when this boy Crowley comes of age, and we've both got to go down and play."
"Both!" I echoed. "But I'm no cricketer!"
"Shut up," says Raffles. "Leave that to me. I've been lying for all I'm worth," he added sepulchrally35 as we reached the bottom of the steps. "I trust to you not to give the show away."
There was a gleam in his eye that I knew well enough elsewhere, but was unprepared for in those healthy, sane36 surroundings; and it was with very definite misgivings37 and surmises38 that I followed the Zingari blazer through the vast flower-bed of hats and bonnets39 that bloomed beneath the ladies' awning40.
Lord Amersteth was a fine-looking man with a short mustache and a double chin. He received me with much dry courtesy, through which, however, it was not difficult to read a less flattering tale. I was accepted as the inevitable41 appendage42 of the invaluable43 Raffles, with whom I felt deeply incensed44 as I made my bow.
"I have been bold enough," said Lord Amersteth, "to ask one of the Gentlemen of England to come down and play some rustic45 cricket for us next month. He is kind enough to say that he would have liked nothing better, but for this little fishing expedition of yours, Mr.——-, Mr.——-," and Lord Amersteth succeeded in remembering my name.
It was, of course, the first I had ever heard of that fishing expedition, but I made haste to say that it could easily, and should certainly, be put off. Raffles gleamed approval through his eyelashes. Lord Amersteth bowed and shrugged46.
"You're very good, I'm sure," said he. "But I understand you're a cricketer yourself?"
"Not a real cricketer," I was stammering48 meanwhile.
"In the eleven?" said Lord Amersteth.
"I'm afraid not," said I.
"But only just out of it," declared Raffles, to my horror.
"Well, well, we can't all play for the Gentlemen," said Lord Amersteth slyly. "My son Crowley only just scraped into the eleven at Harrow, and HE'S going to play. I may even come in myself at a pinch; so you won't be the only duffer, if you are one, and I shall be very glad if you will come down and help us too. You shall flog a stream before breakfast and after dinner, if you like."
"I should be very proud," I was beginning, as the mere prelude49 to resolute50 excuses; but the eye of Raffles opened wide upon me; and I hesitated weakly, to be duly lost.
"Then that's settled," said Lord Amersteth, with the slightest suspicion of grimness. "It's to be a little week, you know, when my son comes of age. We play the Free Foresters, the Dorsetshire Gentlemen, and probably some local lot as well. But Mr. Raffles will tell you all about it, and Crowley shall write. Another wicket! By Jove, they're all out! Then I rely on you both." And, with a little nod, Lord Amersteth rose and sidled to the gangway.
Raffles rose also, but I caught the sleeve of his blazer.
"What are you thinking of?" I whispered savagely51. "I was nowhere near the eleven. I'm no sort of cricketer. I shall have to get out of this!"
"Not you," he whispered back. "You needn't play, but come you must. If you wait for me after half-past six I'll tell you why."
But I could guess the reason; and I am ashamed to say that it revolted me much less than did the notion of making a public fool of myself on a cricket-field. My gorge52 rose at this as it no longer rose at crime, and it was in no tranquil53 humor that I strolled about the ground while Raffles disappeared in the pavilion. Nor was my annoyance54 lessened55 by a little meeting I witnessed between young Crowley and his father, who shrugged as he stopped and stooped to convey some information which made the young man look a little blank. It may have been pure self-consciousness on my part, but I could have sworn that the trouble was their inability to secure the great Raffles without his insignificant56 friend.
Then the bell rang, and I climbed to the top of the pavilion to watch Raffles bowl. No subtleties57 are lost up there; and if ever a bowler was full of them, it was A. J. Raffles on this day, as, indeed, all the cricket world remembers. One had not to be a cricketer oneself to appreciate his perfect command of pitch and break, his beautifully easy action, which never varied59 with the varying pace, his great ball on the leg-stump—his dropping head-ball—in a word, the infinite ingenuity60 of that versatile61 attack. It was no mere exhibition of athletic62 prowess, it was an intellectual treat, and one with a special significance in my eyes. I saw the "affinity between the two things," saw it in that afternoon's tireless warfare63 against the flower of professional cricket. It was not that Raffles took many wickets for few runs; he was too fine a bowler to mind being hit; and time was short, and the wicket good. What I admired, and what I remember, was the combination of resource and cunning, of patience and precision, of head-work and handiwork, which made every over an artistic64 whole. It was all so characteristic of that other Raffles whom I alone knew!
"I felt like bowling this afternoon," he told me later in the hansom. "With a pitch to help me, I'd have done something big; as it is, three for forty-one, out of the four that fell, isn't so bad for a slow bowler on a plumb65 wicket against those fellows. But I felt venomous! Nothing riles me more than being asked about for my cricket as though I were a pro4. myself."
"Then why on earth go?"
"To punish them, and—because we shall be jolly hard up, Bunny, before the season's over!"
"Ah!" said I. "I thought it was that."
"Of course, it was! It seems they're going to have the very devil of a week of it—balls—dinner parties—swagger house party—general junketings—and obviously a houseful of diamonds as well. Diamonds galore! As a general rule nothing would induce me to abuse my position as a guest. I've never done it, Bunny. But in this case we're engaged like the waiters and the band, and by heaven we'll take our toll66! Let's have a quiet dinner somewhere and talk it over."
"It seems rather a vulgar sort of theft," I could not help saying; and to this, my single protest, Raffles instantly assented67.
"It is a vulgar sort," said he; "but I can't help that. We're getting vulgarly hard up again, and there's an end on 't. Besides, these people deserve it, and can afford it. And don't you run away with the idea that all will be plain sailing; nothing will be easier than getting some stuff, and nothing harder than avoiding all suspicion, as, of course, we must. We may come away with no more than a good working plan of the premises68. Who knows? In any case there's weeks of thinking in it for you and me."
But with those weeks I will not weary you further than by remarking that the "thinking," was done entirely69 by Raffles, who did not always trouble to communicate his thoughts to me. His reticence70, however, was no longer an irritant. I began to accept it as a necessary convention of these little enterprises. And, after our last adventure of the kind, more especially after its denouement71, my trust in Raffles was much too solid to be shaken by a want of trust in me, which I still believe to have been more the instinct of the criminal than the judgment72 of the man.
It was on Monday, the tenth of August, that we were due at Milchester Abbey, Dorset; and the beginning of the month found us cruising about that very county, with fly-rods actually in our hands. The idea was that we should acquire at once a local reputation as decent fishermen, and some knowledge of the countryside, with a view to further and more deliberate operations in the event of an unprofitable week. There was another idea which Raffles kept to himself until he had got me down there. Then one day he produced a cricket-ball in a meadow we were crossing, and threw me catches for an hour together. More hours he spent in bowling to me on the nearest green; and, if I was never a cricketer, at least I came nearer to being one, by the end of that week, than ever before or since.
Incident began early on the Monday. We had sallied forth73 from a desolate74 little junction75 within quite a few miles of Milchester, had been caught in a shower, had run for shelter to a wayside inn. A florid, overdressed man was drinking in the parlor76, and I could have sworn it was at the sight of him that Raffles recoiled77 on the threshold, and afterwards insisted on returning to the station through the rain. He assured me, however, that the odor of stale ale had almost knocked him down. And I had to make what I could of his speculative78, downcast eyes and knitted brows.
Milchester Abbey is a gray, quadrangular pile, deep-set in rich woody country, and twinkling with triple rows of quaint31 windows, every one of which seemed alight as we drove up just in time to dress for dinner. The carriage had whirled us under I know not how many triumphal arches in process of construction, and past the tents and flag-poles of a juicy-looking cricket-field, on which Raffles undertook to bowl up to his reputation. But the chief signs of festival were within, where we found an enormous house-party assembled, including more persons of pomp, majesty79, and dominion80 than I had ever encountered in one room before. I confess I felt overpowered. Our errand and my own presences combined to rob me of an address upon which I have sometimes plumed81 myself; and I have a grim recollection of my nervous relief when dinner was at last announced. I little knew what an ordeal82 it was to prove.
I had taken in a much less formidable young lady than might have fallen to my lot. Indeed I began by blessing83 my good fortune in this respect. Miss Melhuish was merely the rector's daughter, and she had only been asked to make an even number. She informed me of both facts before the soup reached us, and her subsequent conversation was characterized by the same engaging candor84. It exposed what was little short of a mania85 for imparting information. I had simply to listen, to nod, and to be thankful.
When I confessed to knowing very few of those present, even by sight, my entertaining companion proceeded to tell me who everybody was, beginning on my left and working conscientiously86 round to her right. This lasted quite a long time, and really interested me; but a great deal that followed did not, and, obviously to recapture my unworthy attention, Miss Melhuish suddenly asked me, in a sensational87 whisper, whether I could keep a secret.
I said I thought I might, whereupon another question followed, in still lower and more thrilling accents:
"Are you afraid of burglars?"
"So I've found something to interest you at last!" said Miss Melhuish, in naive90 triumph. "Yes—burglars! But don't speak so loud. It's supposed to be kept a great secret. I really oughtn't to tell you at all!"
"But what is there to tell?" I whispered with satisfactory impatience91.
"You promise not to speak of it?"
"Of course!"
"Well, then, there are burglars in the neighborhood."
"Have they committed any robberies?"
"Not yet."
"Then how do you know?"
"They've been seen. In the district. Two well-known London thieves!"
Two! I looked at Raffles. I had done so often during the evening, envying him his high spirits, his iron nerve, his buoyant wit, his perfect ease and self-possession. But now I pitied him; through all my own terror and consternation92, I pitied him as he sat eating and drinking, and laughing and talking, without a cloud of fear or of embarrassment93 on his handsome, taking, daredevil face. I caught up my champagne94 and emptied the glass.
"Who has seen them?" I then asked calmly.
"A detective. They were traced down from town a few days ago. They are believed to have designs on the Abbey!"
"But why aren't they run in?"
"Exactly what I asked papa on the way here this evening; he says there is no warrant out against the men at present, and all that can be done is to watch their movements."
"Oh! so they are being watched?"
"Yes, by a detective who is down here on purpose. And I heard Lord Amersteth tell papa that they had been seen this afternoon at Warbeck Junction!"
The very place where Raffles and I had been caught in the rain! Our stampede from the inn was now explained; on the other hand, I was no longer to be taken by surprise by anything that my companion might have to tell me; and I succeeded in looking her in the face with a smile.
"This is really quite exciting, Miss Melhuish," said I. "May I ask how you come to know so much about it?"
"It's papa," was the confidential95 reply. "Lord Amersteth consulted him, and he consulted me. But for goodness' sake don't let it get about! I can't think WHAT tempted96 me to tell you!"
"You may trust me, Miss Melhuish. But—aren't you frightened?"
"Not a bit! They won't come to the rectory. There's nothing for them there. But look round the table: look at the diamonds: look at old Lady Melrose's necklace alone!"
The Dowager Marchioness of Melrose was one of the few persons whom it had been unnecessary to point out to me. She sat on Lord Amersteth's right, flourishing her ear-trumpet, and drinking champagne with her usual notorious freedom, as dissipated and kindly98 a dame99 as the world has ever seen. It was a necklace of diamonds and sapphires100 that rose and fell about her ample neck.
"They say it's worth five thousand pounds at least," continued my companion. "Lady Margaret told me so this morning (that's Lady Margaret next your Mr. Raffles, you know); and the old dear WILL wear them every night. Think what a haul they would be! No; we don't feel in immediate101 danger at the rectory."
When the ladies rose, Miss Melhuish bound me to fresh vows102 of secrecy103; and left me, I should think, with some remorse104 for her indiscretion, but more satisfaction at the importance which it had undoubtedly105 given her in my eyes. The opinion may smack106 of vanity, though, in reality, the very springs of conversation reside in that same human, universal itch58 to thrill the auditor107. The peculiarity108 of Miss Melhuish was that she must be thrilling at all costs. And thrilling she had surely been.
I spare you my feelings of the next two hours. I tried hard to get a word with Raffles, but again and again I failed. In the dining-room he and Crowley lit their cigarettes with the same match, and had their heads together all the time. In the drawing-room I had the mortification109 of hearing him talk interminable nonsense into the ear-trumpet of Lady Melrose, whom he knew in town. Lastly, in the billiard-room, they had a great and lengthy110 pool, while I sat aloof111 and chafed112 more than ever in the company of a very serious Scotchman, who had arrived since dinner, and who would talk of nothing but the recent improvements in instantaneous photography. He had not come to play in the matches (he told me), but to obtain for Lord Amersteth such a series of cricket photographs as had never been taken before; whether as an amateur or a professional photographer I was unable to determine. I remember, however, seeking distraction114 in little bursts of resolute attention to the conversation of this bore. And so at last the long ordeal ended; glasses were emptied, men said good-night, and I followed Raffles to his room.
"It's all up!" I gasped115, as he turned up the gas and I shut the door. "We're being watched. We've been followed down from town. There's a detective here on the spot!"
"How do YOU know?" asked Raffles, turning upon me quite sharply, but without the least dismay. And I told him how I knew.
"Of course," I added, "it was the fellow we saw in the inn this afternoon."
"The detective?" said Raffles. "Do you mean to say you don't know a detective when you see one, Bunny?"
"If that wasn't the fellow, which is?"
Raffles shook his head.
"To think that you've been talking to him for the last hour in the billiard-room and couldn't spot what he was!"
I paused aghast.
"Scotch he is," said Raffles, "and photographer he may be. He is also Inspector116 Mackenzie of Scotland Yard—the very man I sent the message to that night last April. And you couldn't spot who he was in a whole hour! O Bunny, Bunny, you were never built for crime!"
"But," said I, "if that was Mackenzie, who was the fellow you bolted from at Warbeck?"
"The man he's watching."
"But he's watching us!"
Raffles looked at me with a pitying eye, and shook his head again before handing me his open cigarette-case.
"I don't know whether smoking's forbidden in one's bedroom, but you'd better take one of these and stand tight, Bunny, because I'm going to say something offensive."
I helped myself with a laugh.
"Say what you like, my dear fellow, if it really isn't you and I that Mackenzie's after."
"Well, then, it isn't, and it couldn't be, and nobody but a born Bunny would suppose for a moment that it was! Do you seriously think he would sit there and knowingly watch his man playing pool under his nose? Well, he might; he's a cool hand, Mackenzie; but I'm not cool enough to win a pool under such conditions. At least I don't think I am; it would be interesting to see. The situation wasn't free from strain as it was, though I knew he wasn't thinking of us. Crowley told me all about it after dinner, you see, and then I'd seen one of the men for myself this afternoon. You thought it was a detective who made me turn tail at that inn. I really don't know why I didn't tell you at the time, but it was just the opposite. That loud, red-faced brute117 is one of the cleverest thieves in London, and I once had a drink with him and our mutual118 fence. I was an Eastender from tongue to toe at the moment, but you will understand that I don't run unnecessary risks of recognition by a brute like that."
"He's not alone, I hear."
"By no means; there's at least one other man with him; and it's suggested that there may be an accomplice119 here in the house."
"Did Lord Crowley tell you so?"
"Crowley and the champagne between them. In confidence, of course, just as your girl told you; but even in confidence he never let on about Mackenzie. He told me there was a detective in the background, but that was all. Putting him up as a guest is evidently their big secret, to be kept from the other guests because it might offend them, but more particularly from the servants whom he's here to watch. That's my reading of the situation, Bunny, and you will agree with me that it's infinitely120 more interesting than we could have imagined it would prove."
"But infinitely more difficult for us," said I, with a sigh of pusillanimous121 relief. "Our hands are tied for this week, at all events."
"Not necessarily, my dear Bunny, though I admit that the chances are against us. Yet I'm not so sure of that either. There are all sorts of possibilities in these three-cornered combinations. Set A to watch B, and he won't have an eye left for C. That's the obvious theory, but then Mackenzie's a very big A. I should be sorry to have any boodle about me with that man in the house. Yet it would be great to nip in between A and B and score off them both at once! It would be worth a risk, Bunny, to do that; it would be worth risking something merely to take on old hands like B and his men at their own old game! Eh, Bunny? That would be something like a match. Gentlemen and Players at single wicket, by Jove!"
His eyes were brighter than I had known them for many a day. They shone with the perverted122 enthusiasm which was roused in him only by the contemplation of some new audacity123. He kicked off his shoes and began pacing his room with noiseless rapidity; not since the night of the Old Bohemian dinner to Reuben Rosenthall had Raffles exhibited such excitement in my presence; and I was not sorry at the moment to be reminded of the fiasco to which that banquet had been the prelude.
"My dear A. J.," said I in his very own tone, "you're far too fond of the uphill game; you will eventually fall a victim to the sporting spirit and nothing else. Take a lesson from our last escape, and fly lower as you value our skins. Study the house as much as you like, but do—not—go and shove your head into Mackenzie's mouth!"
My wealth of metaphor124 brought him to a stand-still, with his cigarette between his fingers and a grin beneath his shining eyes.
"You're quite right, Bunny. I won't. I really won't. Yet—you saw old Lady Melrose's necklace? I've been wanting it for years! But I'm not going to play the fool; honor bright, I'm not; yet—by Jove!—to get to windward of the professors and Mackenzie too! It would be a great game, Bunny, it would be a great game!"
"Well, you mustn't play it this week."
"No, no, I won't. But I wonder how the professors think of going to work? That's what one wants to know. I wonder if they've really got an accomplice in the house? How I wish I knew their game! But it's all right, Bunny; don't you be jealous; it shall be as you wish."
And with that assurance I went off to my own room, and so to bed with an incredibly light heart. I had still enough of the honest man in me to welcome the postponement125 of our actual felonies, to dread126 their performance, to deplore127 their necessity: which is merely another way of stating the too patent fact that I was an incomparably weaker man than Raffles, while every whit128 as wicked.
I had, however, one rather strong point. I possessed129 the gift of dismissing unpleasant considerations, not intimately connected with the passing moment, entirely from my mind. Through the exercise of this faculty130 I had lately been living my frivolous131 life in town with as much ignoble132 enjoyment133 as I had derived134 from it the year before; and similarly, here at Milchester, in the long-dreaded cricket-week, I had after all a quite excellent time.
It is true that there were other factors in this pleasing disappointment. In the first place, mirabile dictu, there were one or two even greater duffers than I on the Abbey cricket-field. Indeed, quite early in the week, when it was of most value to me, I gained considerable kudos135 for a lucky catch; a ball, of which I had merely heard the hum, stuck fast in my hand, which Lord Amersteth himself grasped in public congratulation. This happy accident was not to be undone136 even by me, and, as nothing succeeds like success, and the constant encouragement of the one great cricketer on the field was in itself an immense stimulus137, I actually made a run or two in my very next innings. Miss Melhuish said pretty things to me that night at the great ball in honor of Viscount Crowley's majority; she also told me that was the night on which the robbers would assuredly make their raid, and was full of arch tremors138 when we sat out in the garden, though the entire premises were illuminated139 all night long. Meanwhile the quiet Scotchman took countless140 photographs by day, which he developed by night in a dark room admirably situated141 in the servants' part of the house; and it is my firm belief that only two of his fellow-guests knew Mr. Clephane of Dundee for Inspector Mackenzie of Scotland Yard.
The week was to end with a trumpery142 match on the Saturday, which two or three of us intended abandoning early in order to return to town that night. The match, however, was never played. In the small hours of the Saturday morning a tragedy took place at Milchester Abbey.
Let me tell of the thing as I saw and heard it. My room opened upon the central gallery, and was not even on the same floor as that on which Raffles—and I think all the other men—were quartered. I had been put, in fact, into the dressing-room of one of the grand suites143, and my too near neighbors were old Lady Melrose and my host and hostess. Now, by the Friday evening the actual festivities were at an end, and, for the first time that week, I must have been sound asleep since midnight, when all at once I found myself sitting up breathless. A heavy thud had come against my door, and now I heard hard breathing and the dull stamp of muffled144 feet.
"I've got ye," muttered a voice. "It's no use struggling."
It was the Scotch detective, and a new fear turned me cold. There was no reply, but the hard breathing grew harder still, and the muffled feet beat the floor to a quicker measure. In sudden panic I sprang out of bed and flung open my door. A light burnt low on the landing, and by it I could see Mackenzie swaying and staggering in a silent tussle145 with some powerful adversary146.
But I stood like a fool until the pair of them backed into me, when, with a deep breath I flung myself on the fellow, whose face I had seen at last. He was one of the footmen who waited at table; and no sooner had I pinned him than the detective loosed his hold.
"Hang on to him," he cried. "There's more of 'em below."
And he went leaping down the stairs, as other doors opened and Lord Amersteth and his son appeared simultaneously148 in their pyjamas149. At that my man ceased struggling; but I was still holding him when Crowley turned up the gas.
"What the devil's all this?" asked Lord Amersteth, blinking. "Who was that ran downstairs?"
"Mac—Clephane!" said I hastily.
"Aha!" said he, turning to the footman. "So you're the scoundrel, are you? Well done! Well done! Where was he caught?"
I had no idea.
"Here's Lady Melrose's door open," said Crowley. "Lady Melrose! Lady Melrose!"
"You forget she's deaf," said Lord Amersteth. "Ah! that'll be her maid."
An inner door had opened; next instant there was a little shriek150, and a white figure gesticulated on the threshold.
"Ou donc est l'ecrin de Madame la Marquise? La fenetre est ouverte. Il a disparu!"
"Window open and jewel-case gone, by Jove!" exclaimed Lord Amersteth. "Mais comment est Madame la Marquise? Est elle bien?"
"Oui, milor. Elle dort."
"Sleeps through it all," said my lord. "She's the only one, then!"
"What made Mackenzie—Clephane—bolt?" young Crowley asked me.
"Said there were more of them below."
"Why the devil couldn't you tell us so before?" he cried, and went leaping downstairs in his turn.
He was followed by nearly all the cricketers, who now burst upon the scene in a body, only to desert it for the chase. Raffles was one of them, and I would gladly have been another, had not the footman chosen this moment to hurl151 me from him, and to make a dash in the direction from which they had come. Lord Amersteth had him in an instant; but the fellow fought desperately152, and it took the two of us to drag him downstairs, amid a terrified chorus from half-open doors. Eventually we handed him over to two other footmen who appeared with their nightshirts tucked into their trousers, and my host was good enough to compliment me as he led the way outside.
"I thought I heard a shot," he added. "Didn't you?"
"I thought I heard three."
And out we dashed into the darkness.
I remember how the gravel153 pricked154 my feet, how the wet grass numbed155 them as we made for the sound of voices on an outlying lawn. So dark was the night that we were in the cricketers' midst before we saw the shimmer156 of their pyjamas; and then Lord Amersteth almost trod on Mackenzie as he lay prostrate158 in the dew.
"Who's this?" he cried. "What on earth's happened?"
"It's Clephane," said a man who knelt over him. "He's got a bullet in him somewhere."
"Is he alive?"
"Barely."
"Good God! Where's Crowley?"
"Here I am," called a breathless voice. "It's no good, you fellows. There's nothing to show which way they've gone. Here's Raffles; he's chucked it, too." And they ran up panting.
"Well, we've got one of them, at all events," muttered Lord Amersteth. "The next thing is to get this poor fellow indoors. Take his shoulders, somebody. Now his middle. Join hands under him. All together, now; that's the way. Poor fellow! Poor fellow! His name isn't Clephane at all. He's a Scotland Yard detective, down here for these very villains159!"
Raffles was the first to express surprise; but he had also been the first to raise the wounded man. Nor had any of them a stronger or more tender hand in the slow procession to the house.
In a little we had the senseless man stretched on a sofa in the library. And there, with ice on his wound and brandy in his throat, his eyes opened and his lips moved.
"Yes, yes," said he; "we've got one of them safe and sound. The brute you collared upstairs." Lord Amersteth bent lower. "By Jove! Lowered the jewel-case out of the window, did he? And they've got clean away with it! Well, well! I only hope we'll be able to pull this good fellow through. He's off again."
An hour passed: the sun was rising.
It found a dozen young fellows on the settees in the billiard-room, drinking whiskey and soda-water in their overcoats and pyjamas, and still talking excitedly in one breath. A time-table was being passed from hand to hand: the doctor was still in the library. At last the door opened, and Lord Amersteth put in his head.
"It isn't hopeless," said he, "but it's bad enough. There'll be no cricket to-day."
Another hour, and most of us were on our way to catch the early train; between us we filled a compartment161 almost to suffocation162. And still we talked all together of the night's event; and still I was a little hero in my way, for having kept my hold of the one ruffian who had been taken; and my gratification was subtle and intense. Raffles watched me under lowered lids. Not a word had we had together; not a word did we have until we had left the others at Paddington, and were skimming through the streets in a hansom with noiseless tires and a tinkling163 bell.
"Well, Bunny," said Raffles, "so the professors have it, eh?"
"Yes," said I. "And I'm jolly glad!"
"That poor Mackenzie has a ball in his chest?"
"That you and I have been on the decent side for once."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"You're hopeless, Bunny, quite hopeless! I take it you wouldn't have refused your share if the boodle had fallen to us? Yet you positively enjoy coming off second best—for the second time running! I confess, however, that the professors' methods were full of interest to me. I, for one, have probably gained as much in experience as I have lost in other things. That lowering the jewel-case out of the window was a very simple and effective expedient164; two of them had been waiting below for it for hours."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I saw them from my own window, which was just above the dear old lady's. I was fretting165 for that necklace in particular, when I went up to turn in for our last night—and I happened to look out of my window. In point of fact, I wanted to see whether the one below was open, and whether there was the slightest chance of working the oracle166 with my sheet for a rope. Of course I took the precaution of turning my light off first, and it was a lucky thing I did. I saw the pros157. right down below, and they never saw me. I saw a little tiny luminous167 disk just for an instant, and then again for an instant a few minutes later. Of course I knew what it was, for I have my own watch-dial daubed with luminous paint; it makes a lantern of sorts when you can get no better. But these fellows were not using theirs as a lantern. They were under the old lady's window. They were watching the time. The whole thing was arranged with their accomplice inside. Set a thief to catch a thief: in a minute I had guessed what the whole thing proved to be."
"And you did nothing!" I exclaimed.
"On the contrary, I went downstairs and straight into Lady Melrose's room—"
"You did?"
"Without a moment's hesitation168. To save her jewels. And I was prepared to yell as much into her ear-trumpet for all the house to hear. But the dear lady is too deaf and too fond of her dinner to wake easily."
"Well?"
"She didn't stir."
"And yet you allowed the professors, as you call them, to take her jewels, case and all!"
"All but this," said Raffles, thrusting his fist into my lap. "I would have shown it you before, but really, old fellow, your face all day has been worth a fortune to the firm!"
And he opened his fist, to shut it next instant on the bunch of diamonds and of sapphires that I had last seen encircling the neck of Lady Melrose.
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1
raffles
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| 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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bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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affinity
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| n.亲和力，密切关系 | |
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proclivities
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| n.倾向，癖性( proclivity的名词复数 ) | |
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impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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15
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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16
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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atrocities
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| n.邪恶，暴行( atrocity的名词复数 )；滔天大罪 | |
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18
prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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19
journalism
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| n.新闻工作，报业 | |
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20
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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21
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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22
bails
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| （法庭命令缴付的）保释金( bail的名词复数 )； 三柱门上的横木 | |
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23
bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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24
demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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25
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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26
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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27
commiserate
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| v.怜悯，同情 | |
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28
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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29
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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31
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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34
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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35
sepulchrally
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| 坟墓的； 丧葬的； 阴森森的； 阴沉的 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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37
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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38
surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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39
bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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40
awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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41
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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42
appendage
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| n.附加物 | |
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43
invaluable
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| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
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44
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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45
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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46
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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47
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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48
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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49
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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50
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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51
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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52
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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53
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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54
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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55
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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56
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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57
subtleties
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| 细微( subtlety的名词复数 )； 精细； 巧妙； 细微的差别等 | |
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58
itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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59
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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60
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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61
versatile
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| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
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62
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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63
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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64
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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65
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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66
toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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67
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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69
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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70
reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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71
denouement
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| n.结尾，结局 | |
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72
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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73
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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74
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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75
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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76
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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77
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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78
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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79
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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80
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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81
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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82
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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83
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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84
candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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85
mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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86
conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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87
sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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88
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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89
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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90
naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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91
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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92
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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93
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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94
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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95
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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96
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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97
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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99
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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100
sapphires
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| n.蓝宝石，钢玉宝石( sapphire的名词复数 )；蔚蓝色 | |
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101
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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102
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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103
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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104
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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105
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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106
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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107
auditor
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| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
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108
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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109
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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110
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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111
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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112
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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113
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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114
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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115
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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116
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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117
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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118
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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119
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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120
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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121
pusillanimous
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| adj.懦弱的，胆怯的 | |
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122
perverted
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| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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123
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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124
metaphor
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| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
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125
postponement
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| n.推迟 | |
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126
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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127
deplore
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| vt.哀叹，对...深感遗憾 | |
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128
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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129
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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130
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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131
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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132
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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133
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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134
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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135
kudos
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| n.荣誉，名声 | |
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136
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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137
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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138
tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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139
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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140
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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141
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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142
trumpery
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| n.无价值的杂物；adj.（物品）中看不中用的 | |
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143
suites
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| n.套( suite的名词复数 )；一套房间；一套家具；一套公寓 | |
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144
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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145
tussle
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| n.&v.扭打，搏斗，争辩 | |
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146
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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147
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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148
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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149
pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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150
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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151
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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152
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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153
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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154
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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155
numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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156
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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157
pros
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| abbr.prosecuting 起诉；prosecutor 起诉人；professionals 自由职业者；proscenium （舞台）前部n.赞成的意见( pro的名词复数 )；赞成的理由；抵偿物；交换物 | |
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158
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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159
villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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160
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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161
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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162
suffocation
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| n.窒息 | |
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163
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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164
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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165
fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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166
oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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167
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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168
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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