E. W. Hornung_A J Raffles 01 (5 page)

"You fool!" said he. "You utter idiot!"

"Raffles!"

"That's it," he whispered savagely; "tell all the
neighborhood—give me away at the top of your voice!"

With that he turned his back upon me, and shambled down the road,
shrugging his shoulders and muttering to himself as though I had
refused him alms. A few moments I stood astounded, indignant, at
a loss; then I followed him. His feet trailed, his knees gave,
his back was bowed, his head kept nodding; it was the gait of a
man eighty years of age. Presently he waited for me midway
between two lamp-posts. As I came up he was lighting rank
tobacco, in a cutty pipe, with an evil-smelling match, and the
flame showed me the suspicion of a smile.

"You must forgive my heat, Bunny, but it really was very foolish
of you. Here am I trying every dodge—begging at the door one
night—hiding in the shrubs the next—doing every mortal thing
but stand and stare at the house as you went and did. It's a
costume piece, and in you rush in your ordinary clothes. I tell
you they're on the lookout for us night and day. It's the
toughest nut I ever tackled!"

"Well," said I, "if you had told me so before I shouldn't have
come. You told me nothing."

He looked hard at me from under the broken brim of a battered
billycock.

"You're right," he said at length. "I've been too close. It's
become second nature with me when I've anything on. But here's
an end of it, Bunny, so far as you're concerned. I'm going home
now, and I want you to follow me; but for heaven's sake keep your
distance, and don't speak to me again till I speak to you.
There—give me a start." And he was off again, a decrepit
vagabond, with his hands in his pockets, his elbows squared, and
frayed coat-tails swinging raggedly from side to side.

I followed him to the Finchley Road. There he took an Atlas
omnibus, and I sat some rows behind him on the top, but not far
enough to escape the pest of his vile tobacco. That he could
carry his character-sketch to such a pitch—he who would only
smoke one brand of cigarette! It was the last, least touch of
the insatiable artist, and it charmed away what mortification
there still remained in me. Once more I felt the fascination of a
comrade who was forever dazzling one with a fresh and unsuspected
facet of his character.

As we neared Piccadilly I wondered what he would do. Surely he
was not going into the Albany like that? No, he took another
omnibus to Sloane Street, I sitting behind him as before. At
Sloane Street we changed again, and were presently in the long
lean artery of the King's Road. I was now all agog to know our
destination, nor was I kept many more minutes in doubt. Raffles
got down. I followed. He crossed the road and disappeared up a
dark turning. I pressed after him, and was in time to see his
coat-tails as he plunged into a still darker flagged alley to the
right. He was holding himself up and stepping out like a young
man once more; also, in some subtle way, he already looked less
disreputable. But I alone was there to see him, the alley was
absolutely deserted, and desperately dark. At the further end he
opened a door with a latch-key, and it was darker yet within.

Instinctively I drew back and heard him chuckle. We could no
longer see each other.

"All right, Bunny! There's no hanky-panky this time. These are
studios, my friend, and I'm one of the lawful tenants."

Indeed, in another minute we were in a lofty room with skylight,
easels, dressing-cupboard, platform, and every other adjunct save
the signs of actual labor. The first thing I saw, as Raffles lit
the gas, was its reflection in his silk hat on the pegs beside
the rest of his normal garments.

"Looking for the works of art?" continued Raffles, lighting a
cigarette and beginning to divest himself of his rags. "I'm
afraid you won't find any, but there's the canvas I'm always
going to make a start upon. I tell them I'm looking high and low
for my ideal model. I have the stove lit on principle twice a
week, and look in and leave a newspaper and a smell of
Sullivans—how good they are after shag! Meanwhile I pay my rent
and am a good tenant in every way; and it's a very useful little
pied-a-terre—there's no saying how useful it might be at a
pinch. As it is, the billy-cock comes in and the topper goes
out, and nobody takes the slightest notice of either; at this
time of night the chances are that there's not a soul in the
building except ourselves."

"You never told me you went in for disguises," said I, watching
him as he cleansed the grime from his face and hands.

"No, Bunny, I've treated you very shabbily all round. There was
really no reason why I shouldn't have shown you this place a
month ago, and yet there was no point in my doing so, and
circumstances are just conceivable in which it would have suited
us both for you to be in genuine ignorance of my whereabouts. I
have something to sleep on, as you perceive, in case of need,
and, of course, my name is not Raffles in the King's Road. So
you will see that one might bolt further and fare worse."

"Meanwhile you use the place as a dressing-room?"

"It is my private pavilion," said Raffles. "Disguises? In some
cases they're half the battle, and it's always pleasant to feel
that, if the worst comes to the worst, you needn't necessarily be
convicted under your own name. Then they're indispensable in
dealing with the fences. I drive all my bargains in the tongue
and raiment of Shoreditch. If I didn't there'd be the very devil
to pay in blackmail. Now, this cupboard's full of all sorts of
toggery. I tell the woman who cleans the room that it's for my
models when I find 'em. By the way, I only hope I've got
something that'll fit you, for you'll want a rig for to-morrow
night."

"To-morrow night!" I exclaimed. "Why, what do you mean to do?"

"The trick," said Raffles. "I intended writing to you as soon as
I got back to my rooms, to ask you to look me up to-morrow
afternoon; then I was going to unfold my plan of campaign, and
take you straight into action then and there. There's nothing
like putting the nervous players in first; it's the sitting with
their pads on that upsets their applecart; that was another of my
reasons for being so confoundedly close. You must try to forgive
me. I couldn't help remembering how well you played up last
trip, without any time to weaken on it beforehand. All I want is
for you to be as cool and smart to-morrow night as you were then;
though, by Jove, there's no comparison between the two cases!"

"I thought you would find it so."

"You were right. I have. Mind you, I don't say this will be the
tougher job all round; we shall probably get in without any
difficulty at all; it's the getting out again that may flummox
us. That's the worst of an irregular household!" cried Raffles,
with quite a burst of virtuous indignation. "I assure you,
Bunny, I spent the whole of Monday night in the shrubbery of the
garden next door, looking over the wall, and, if you'll believe
me, somebody was about all night long! I don't mean the Kaffirs.
I don't believe they ever get to bed at all—poor devils! No, I
mean Rosenthall himself, and that pasty-faced beast Purvis. They
were up and drinking from midnight, when they came in, to broad
daylight, when I cleared out. Even then I left them sober enough
to slang each other. By the way, they very nearly came to blows
in the garden, within a few yards of me, and I heard something
that might come in useful and make Rosenthall shoot crooked at a
critical moment. You know what an I. D. B. is?"

"Illicit Diamond Buyer?"

"Exactly. Well, it seems that Rosenthall was one. He must have
let it out to Purvis in his cups. Anyhow, I heard Purvis taunting
him with it, and threatening him with the breakwater at Capetown;
and I begin to think our friends are friend and foe. But about
to-morrow night: there's nothing subtle in my plan. It's simply
to get in while these fellows are out on the loose, and to lie
low till they come back, and longer. If possible, we must doctor
the whiskey. That would simplify the whole thing, though it's
not a very sporting game to play; still, we must remember
Rosenthall's revolver; we don't want him to sign his name on US.
With all those Kaffirs about, however, it's ten to one on the
whiskey, and a hundred to one against us if we go looking for it.

A brush with the heathen would spoil everything, if it did no
more. Besides, there are the ladies—"

"The deuce there are!"

"Ladies with an
I
, and the very voices for raising Cain. I
fear, I fear the clamor! It would be fatal to us. Au contraire,
if we can manage to stow ourselves away unbeknownst, half the
battle will be won. If Rosenthall turns in drunk, it's a purple
diamond apiece. If he sits up sober, it may be a bullet instead.
We will hope not, Bunny; and all the firing wouldn't be on one
side; but it's on the knees of the gods."

And so we left it when we shook hands in Picadilly—not by any
means as much later as I could have wished. Raffles would not
ask me to his rooms that night. He said he made it a rule to
have a long night before playing cricket and—other games. His
final word to me was framed on the same principle.

"Mind, only one drink to-night, Bunny. Two at the outside—as
you value your life—and mine!"

I remember my abject obedience; and the endless, sleepless night
it gave me; and the roofs of the houses opposite standing out at
last against the blue-gray London dawn. I wondered whether I
should ever see another, and was very hard on myself for that
little expedition which I had made on my own wilful account.

It was between eight and nine o'clock in the evening when we took
up our position in the garden adjoining that of Reuben
Rosenthall; the house itself was shut up, thanks to the
outrageous libertine next door, who, by driving away the
neighbors, had gone far towards delivering himself into our
hands. Practically secure from surprise on that side, we could
watch our house under cover of a wall just high enough to see
over, while a fair margin of shrubs in either garden afforded us
additional protection. Thus entrenched, we had stood an hour,
watching a pair of lighted bow-windows with vague shadows
flitting continually across the blinds, and listening to the
drawing of corks, the clink of glasses, and a gradual crescendo
of coarse voices within. Our luck seemed to have deserted us:
the owner of the purple diamonds was dining at home and dining at
undue length. I thought it was a dinner-party. Raffles
differed; in the end he proved right. Wheels grated in the
drive, a carriage and pair stood at the steps; there was a
stampede from the dining-room, and the loud voices died away, to
burst forth presently from the porch.

Let me make our position perfectly clear. We were over the wall,
at the side of the house, but a few feet from the dining-room
windows. On our right, one angle of the building cut the back
lawn in two diagonally; on our left, another angle just permitted
us to see the jutting steps and the waiting carriage. We saw
Rosenthall come out—saw the glimmer of his diamonds before
anything. Then came the pugilist; then a lady with a head of hair
like a bath sponge; then another, and the party was complete.

Raffles ducked and pulled me down in great excitement.

"The ladies are going with them," he whispered. "This is great!"

"That's better still."

"The Gardenia!" the millionaire had bawled.

"And that's best of all," said Raffles, standing upright as hoofs
and wheels crunched through the gates and rattled off at a fine
speed.

"Now what?" I whispered, trembling with excitement.

"They'll be clearing away. Yes, here come their shadows. The
drawing-room windows open on the lawn. Bunny, it's the
psychological moment. Where's that mask?"

I produced it with a hand whose trembling I tried in vain to
still, and could have died for Raffles when he made no comment on
what he could not fail to notice. His own hands were firm and
cool as he adjusted my mask for me, and then his own.

"By Jove, old boy," he whispered cheerily, "you look about the
greatest ruffian I ever saw! These masks alone will down a
nigger, if we meet one. But I'm glad I remembered to tell you
not to shave. You'll pass for Whitechapel if the worst comes to
the worst and you don't forget to talk the lingo. Better sulk
like a mule if you're not sure of it, and leave the dialogue to
me; but, please our stars, there will be no need. Now, are you
ready?"

"Quite."

"Got your gag?"

"Yes."

"Shooter?"

"Yes."

"Then follow me."

In an instant we were over the wall, in another on the lawn
behind the house. There was no moon. The very stars in their
courses had veiled themselves for our benefit. I crept at my
leader's heels to some French windows opening upon a shallow
veranda. He pushed. They yielded.

"Luck again," he whispered; "nothing BUT luck! Now for a light."

And the light came!

A good score of electric burners glowed red for the fraction of a
second, then rained merciless white beams into our blinded eyes.
When we found our sight four revolvers covered us, and between
two of them the colossal frame of Reuben Rosenthall shook with a
wheezy laughter from head to foot.

"Good-evening, boys," he hiccoughed. "Glad to see ye at last.
Shift foot or finger, you on the left, though, and you're a dead
boy. I mean you, you greaser!" he roared out at Raffles. "I
know you. I've been waitin' for you. I've been WATCHIN' you all
this week! Plucky smart you thought yerself, didn't you? One
day beggin', next time shammin' tight, and next one o' them old
pals from Kimberley what never come when I'm in. But you left
the same tracks every day, you buggins, an' the same tracks every
night, all round the blessed premises."