<SPAN name="silver"></SPAN>
<h3> The Chest of Silver </h3>
<p>Like all the tribe of which I held him head, Raffles professed the
liveliest disdain for unwieldy plunder of any description; it might be
old Sheffield, or it might be solid silver or gold, but if the thing
was not to be concealed about the person, he would none whatever of it.
Unlike the rest of us, however, in this as in all else, Raffles would
not infrequently allow the acquisitive spirit of the mere collector to
silence the dictates of professional prudence. The old oak chests, and
even the mahogany wine-cooler, for which he had doubtless paid like an
honest citizen, were thus immovable with pieces of crested plate, which
he had neither the temerity to use nor the hardihood to melt or sell.
He could but gloat over them behind locked doors, as I used to tell
him, and at last one afternoon I caught him at it. It was in the year
after that of my novitiate, a halcyon period at the Albany, when
Raffles left no crib uncracked, and I played second-murderer every
time. I had called in response to a telegram in which he stated that he
was going out of town, and must say good-by to me before he went. And I
could only think that he was inspired by the same impulse toward the
bronzed salvers and the tarnished teapots with which I found him
surrounded, until my eyes lit upon the enormous silver-chest into which
he was fitting them one by one.</p>
<p>"Allow me, Bunny! I shall take the liberty of locking both doors
behind you and putting the key in my pocket," said Raffles, when he had
let me in. "Not that I mean to take you prisoner, my dear fellow; but
there are those of us who can turn keys from the outside, though it was
never an accomplishment of mine."</p>
<p>"Not Crawshay again?" I cried, standing still in my hat.</p>
<p>Raffles regarded me with that tantalizing smile of his which might mean
nothing, yet which often meant so much; and in a flash I was convinced
that our most jealous enemy and dangerous rival, the doyen of an older
school, had paid him yet another visit.</p>
<p>"That remains to be seen," was the measured reply; "and I for one have
not set naked eye on the fellow since I saw him off through that window
and left myself for dead on this very spot. In fact, I imagined him
comfortably back in jail."</p>
<p>"Not old Crawshay!" said I. "He's far too good a man to be taken
twice. I should call him the very prince of professional cracksmen."</p>
<p>"Should you?" said Raffles coldly, with as cold an eye looking into
mine. "Then you had better prepare to repel princes when I'm gone."</p>
<p>"But gone where?" I asked, finding a corner for my hat and coat, and
helping myself to the comforts of the venerable dresser which was one
of our friend's greatest treasures. "Where is it you are off to, and
why are you taking this herd of white elephants with you?"</p>
<p>Raffles bestowed the cachet of his smile on my description of his
motley plate. He joined me in one of his favorite cigarettes, only
shaking a superior head at his own decanter.</p>
<p>"One question at a time, Bunny," said he. "In the first place, I am
going to have these rooms freshened up with a potful of paint, the
electric light, and the telephone you've been at me about so long."</p>
<p>"Good!" I cried. "Then we shall be able to talk to each other day and
night!"</p>
<p>"And get overheard and run in for our pains? I shall wait till you are
run in, I think," said Raffles cruelly. "But the rest's a necessity:
not that I love new paint or am pining for electric light, but for
reasons which I will just breathe in your private ear, Bunny. You must
not try to take them too seriously; but the fact is, there is just the
least bit of a twitter against me in this rookery of an Albany. It
must have been started by that tame old bird, Policeman Mackenzie; it
isn't very bad as yet, but it needn't be that to reach my ears. Well,
it was open to me either to clear out altogether, and so confirm
whatever happened to be in the air, or to go off for a time, under some
arrangement which would give the authorities ample excuse for
overhauling every inch of my rooms. Which would you have done, Bunny?"</p>
<p>"Cleared out, while I could!" said I devoutly.</p>
<p>"So I should have thought," rejoined Raffles. "Yet you see the merit
of my plan. I shall leave every mortal thing unlocked."</p>
<p>"Except that," said I, kicking the huge oak case with the iron bands
and clamps, and the baize lining fast disappearing under heavy packages
bearing the shapes of urns and candelabra.</p>
<p>"That," replied Raffles, "is neither to go with me nor to remain here."</p>
<p>"Then what do you propose to do with it?"</p>
<p>"You have your banking account, and your banker," he went on. This was
perfectly true, though it was Raffles alone who had kept the one open,
and enabled me to propitiate the other in moments of emergency.</p>
<p>"Well?"</p>
<p>"Well, pay in this bundle of notes this afternoon, and say you have had
a great week at Liverpool and Lincoln; then ask them if they can do
with your silver while you run over to Paris for a merry Easter. I
should tell them it's rather heavy—a lot of old family stuff that
you've a good mind to leave with them till you marry and settle down."</p>
<p>I winced at this, but consented to the rest after a moment's
consideration. After all, and for more reasons that I need enumerate,
it was a plausible tale enough. And Raffles had no banker; it was
quite impossible for him to explain, across any single counter, the
large sums of hard cash which did sometimes fall into his hands; and it
might well be that he had nursed my small account in view of the very
quandary which had now arisen. On all grounds, it was impossible for
me to refuse him, and I am still glad to remember that my assent was
given, on the whole, ungrudgingly.</p>
<p>"But when will the chest be ready for me," I merely asked, as I stuffed
the notes into my cigarette case. "And how are we to get it out of
this, in banking hours, without attracting any amount of attention at
this end?"</p>
<p>Raffles gave me an approving nod.</p>
<p>"I'm glad to see you spot the crux so quickly, Bunny. I have thought
of your taking it round to your place first, under cloud of night; but
we are bound to be seen even so, and on the whole it would look far
less suspicious in broad daylight. It will take you some twelve or
fifteen minutes to drive to your bank in a growler, so if you are here
with one at a quarter to ten to-morrow morning, that will exactly meet
the case. But you must have a hansom this minute if you mean to
prepare the way with those notes this afternoon!"</p>
<p>It was only too like the Raffles of those days to dismiss a subject and
myself in the same breath, with a sudden nod, and a brief grasp of the
hand he was already holding out for mine. I had a great mind to take
another of his cigarettes instead, for there were one or two points on
which he had carefully omitted to enlighten me. Thus, I had still to
learn the bare direction of his journey; and it was all that I could do
to drag it from him as I stood buttoning my coat and gloves.</p>
<p>"Scotland," he vouchsafed at last.</p>
<p>"At Easter," I remarked.</p>
<p>"To learn the language," he explained. "I have no tongue but my own,
you see, but I try to make up for it by cultivating every shade of
that. Some of them have come in useful even to your knowledge, Bunny:
what price my Cockney that night in St. John's Wood? I can keep up my
end in stage Irish, real Devonshire, very fair Norfolk, and three
distinct Yorkshire dialects. But my good Galloway Scots might be
better, and I mean to make it so."</p>
<p>"You still haven't told me where to write to you."</p>
<p>"I'll write to you first, Bunny."</p>
<p>"At least let me see you off," I urged at the door. "I promise not to
look at your ticket if you tell me the train!"</p>
<p>"The eleven-fifty from Euston."</p>
<p>"Then I'll be with you by quarter to ten."</p>
<p>And I left him without further parley, reading his impatience in his
face. Everything, to be sure, seemed clear enough without that fuller
discussion which I loved and Raffles hated. Yet I thought we might at
least have dined together, and in my heart I felt just the least bit
hurt, until it occurred to me as I drove to count the notes in my
cigarette case. Resentment was impossible after that. The sum ran well
into three figures, and it was plain that Raffles meant me to have a
good time in his absence. So I told his lie with unction at my bank,
and made due arrangements for the reception of his chest next morning.
Then I repaired to our club, hoping he would drop in, and that we might
dine together after all. In that I was disappointed. It was nothing,
however, to the disappointment awaiting me at the Albany, when I
arrived in my four-wheeler at the appointed hour next morning.</p>
<p>"Mr. Raffles 'as gawn, sir," said the porter, with a note of reproach
in his confidential undertone. The man was a favorite with Raffles,
who used him and tipped him with consummate tact, and he knew me only
less well.</p>
<p>"Gone!" I echoed aghast. "Where on earth to?"</p>
<p>"Scotland, sir."</p>
<p>"Already?"</p>
<p>"By the eleven-fifty lawst night."</p>
<p>"Last night! I thought he meant eleven-fifty this morning!"</p>
<p>"He knew you did, sir, when you never came, and he told me to tell you
there was no such train."</p>
<p>I could have rent my garments in mortification and annoyance with
myself and Raffles. It was as much his fault as mine. But for his
indecent haste in getting rid of me, his characteristic abruptness at
the end, there would have been no misunderstanding or mistake.</p>
<p>"Any other message?" I inquired morosely.</p>
<p>"Only about the box, sir. Mr. Raffles said as you was goin' to take
chawge of it time he's away, and I've a friend ready to lend a 'and in
getting it on the cab. It's a rare 'eavy 'un, but Mr. Raffles an' me
could lift it all right between us, so I dessay me an' my friend can."</p>
<p>For my own part, I must confess that its weight concerned me less than
the vast size of that infernal chest, as I drove with it past club and
park at ten o'clock in the morning. Sit as far back as I might in the
four-wheeler, I could conceal neither myself nor my connection with the
huge iron-clamped case upon the roof: in my heated imagination its wood
was glass through which all the world could see the guilty contents.
Once an officious constable held up the traffic at our approach, and
for a moment I put a blood-curdling construction upon the simple
ceremony. Low boys shouted after us—or if it was not after us, I
thought it was—and that their cry was "Stop thief!" Enough said of
one of the most unpleasant cab-drives I ever had in my life. Horresco
referens.</p>
<p>At the bank, however, thanks to the foresight and liberality of
Raffles, all was smooth water. I paid my cabman handsomely, gave a
florin to the stout fellow in livery whom he helped with the chest, and
could have pressed gold upon the genial clerk who laughed like a
gentleman at my jokes about the Liverpool winners and the latest
betting on the Family Plate. I was only disconcerted when he informed
me that the bank gave no receipts for deposits of this nature. I am
now aware that few London banks do. But it is pleasing to believe that
at the time I looked—what I felt—as though all I valued upon earth
were in jeopardy.</p>
<p>I should have got through the rest of that day happily enough, such was
the load off my mind and hands, but for an extraordinary and most
disconcerting note received late at night from Raffles himself. He was
a man who telegraphed freely, but seldom wrote a letter. Sometimes,
however, he sent a scribbled line by special messenger; and overnight,
evidently in the train, he had scribbled this one to post in the small
hours at Crewe:</p>
<P CLASS="letter">
"'Ware Prince of Professors! He was in the offing when I left.
If slightest cause for uneasiness about bank, withdraw at once
and keep in own rooms Like good chap,<br/>
<br/>
"A. J. R.<br/>
<br/>
"P. S.—Other reasons, as you shall hear."<br/></p>
<br/>
<p>There was a nice nightcap for a puzzled head! I had made rather an
evening of it, what with increase of funds and decrease of anxiety, but
this cryptic admonition spoiled the remainder of my night. It had
arrived by a late post, and I only wished that I had left it all night
in my letter-box. What exactly did it mean? And what exactly must I
do? These were questions that confronted me with fresh force in the
morning.</p>
<p>The news of Crawshay did not surprise me. I was quite sure that
Raffles had been given good reason to bear him in mind before his
journey, even if he had not again beheld the ruffian in the flesh. That
ruffian and that journey might be more intimately connected than I had
yet supposed. Raffles never told me all. Yet the solid fact held
good—held better than ever—that I had seen his plunder safely planted
in my bank. Crawshay himself could not follow it there. I was certain
he had not followed my cab: in the acute self-consciousness induced by
that abominable drive, I should have known it in my bones if he had. I
thought of the porter's friend who had helped me with the chest. No, I
remember him as well as I remembered Crawshay; they were quite
different types.</p>
<p>To remove that vile box from the bank, on top of another cab, with no
stronger pretext and no further instructions, was not to be thought of
for a moment. Yet I did think of it, for hours. I was always anxious
to do my part by Raffles; he had done more than his by me, not once or
twice, to-day or yesterday, but again and again from the very first. I
need not state the obvious reasons I had for fighting shy of the
personal custody of his accursed chest. Yet he had run worse risks for
me, and I wanted him to learn that he, too, could depend on a devotion
not unworthy of his own.</p>
<p>In my dilemma I did what I have often done when at a loss for light and
leading. I took hardly any lunch, but went to Northumberland Avenue
and had a Turkish bath instead. I know nothing so cleansing to mind as
well as body, nothing better calculated to put the finest possible edge
on such judgment as one may happen to possess. Even Raffles, without
an ounce to lose or a nerve to soothe, used to own a sensuous
appreciation of the peace of mind and person to be gained in this
fashion when all others failed. For me, the fun began before the boots
were off one's feet; the muffled footfalls, the thin sound of the
fountain, even the spent swathed forms upon the couches, and the whole
clean, warm, idle atmosphere, were so much unction to my simpler soul.
The half-hour in the hot-rooms I used to count but a strenuous step to
a divine lassitude of limb and accompanying exaltation of intellect.
And yet—and yet—it was in the hottest room of all, in a temperature
of 270 deg. Fahrenheit, that the bolt fell from the Pall Mall Gazette
which I had bought outside the bath.</p>
<p>I was turning over the hot, crisp pages, and positively revelling in my
fiery furnace, when the following headlines and leaded paragraphs leapt
to my eye with the force of a veritable blow:</p>
<h4>
BANK ROBBERS IN THE WEST END—<br/>
DARING AND MYSTERIOUS CRIME<br/>
</h4>
<P CLASS="letter">
An audacious burglary and dastardly assault have been committed
on the premises of the City and Suburban Bank in Sloane Street, W.
From the details so far to hand, the robbery appears to have been
deliberately planned and adroitly executed in the early hours of
this morning.</p>
<P CLASS="letter">
A night watchman named Fawcett states that between one and two
o'clock he heard a slight noise in the neighborhood of the lower
strong-room, used as a repository for the plate and other
possessions of various customers of the bank. Going down to
investigate, he was instantly attacked by a powerful ruffian,
who succeeded in felling him to the ground before an alarm could
be raised.</p>
<P CLASS="letter">
Fawcett is unable to furnish any description of his assailant
or assailants, but is of opinion that more than one were engaged
in the commission of the crime. When the unfortunate man
recovered consciousness, no trace of the thieves remained, with
the exception of a single candle which had been left burning on
the flags of the corridor. The strong-room, however, had been
opened, and it is feared the raid on the chests of plate and
other valuables may prove to have been only too successful, in
view of the Easter exodus, which the thieves had evidently taken
into account. The ordinary banking chambers were not even
visited; entry and exit are believed to have been effected
through the coal cellar, which is also situated in the basement.
Up to the present the police have effected no arrest.</p>
<p>I sat practically paralyzed by this appalling news; and I swear that,
even in that incredible temperature, it was a cold perspiration in
which I sweltered from head to heel. Crawshay, of course! Crawshay
once more upon the track of Raffles and his ill-gotten gains! And once
more I blamed Raffles himself: his warning had come too late: he should
have wired to me at once not to take the box to the bank at all. He
was a madman ever to have invested in so obvious and obtrusive a
receptacle for treasure. It would serve Raffles right if that and no
other was the box which had been broken into by the thieves.</p>
<p>Yet, when I considered the character of his treasure, I fairly
shuddered in my sweat. It was a hoard of criminal relics. Suppose his
chest had indeed been rifled, and emptied of every silver thing but
one; that one remaining piece of silver, seen of men, was quite enough
to cast Raffles into the outer darkness of penal servitude! And
Crawshay was capable of it—of perceiving the insidious revenge—of
taking it without compunction or remorse.</p>
<p>There was only one course for me. I must follow my instructions to the
letter and recover the chest at all hazards, or be taken myself in the
attempt. If only Raffles had left me some address, to which I could
have wired some word of warning! But it was no use thinking of that;
for the rest there was time enough up to four o'clock, and as yet it
was not three. I determined to go through with my bath and make the
most of it. Might it not be my last for years?</p>
<p>But I was past enjoying even a Turkish bath. I had not the patience
for a proper shampoo, or sufficient spirit for the plunge. I weighed
myself automatically, for that was a matter near my heart; but I forgot
to give my man his sixpence until the reproachful intonation of his
adieu recalled me to myself. And my couch in the cooling gallery—my
favorite couch, in my favorite corner, which I had secured with gusto
on coming in—it was a bed of thorns, with hideous visions of a
plank-bed to follow!</p>
<p>I ought to be able to add that I heard the burglary discussed on
adjacent couches before I left I certainly listened for it, and was
rather disappointed more than once when I had held my breath in vain.
But this is the unvarnished record of an odious hour, and it passed
without further aggravation from without; only, as I drove to Sloane
Street, the news was on all the posters, and on one I read of "a clew"
which spelt for me a doom I was grimly resolved to share.</p>
<p>Already there was something in the nature of a "run" up on the Sloane
Street branch of the City and Suburban. A cab drove away with a chest
of reasonable dimensions as mine drove up, while in the bank itself a
lady was making a painful scene. As for the genial clerk who had
roared at my jokes the day before, he was mercifully in no mood for any
more, but, on the contrary, quite rude to me at sight.</p>
<p>"I've been expecting you all the afternoon," said he. "You needn't
look so pale."</p>
<p>"Is it safe?"</p>
<p>"That Noah's Ark of yours? Yes, so I hear; they'd just got to it when
they were interrupted, and they never went back again."</p>
<p>"Then it wasn't even opened?"</p>
<p>"Only just begun on, I believe."</p>
<p>"Thank God!"</p>
<p>"You may; we don't," growled the clerk. "The manager says he believes
your chest was at the bottom of it all."</p>
<p>"How could it be?" I asked uneasily.</p>
<p>"By being seen on the cab a mile off, and followed," said the clerk.</p>
<p>"Does the manager want to see me?" I asked boldly.</p>
<p>"Not unless you want to see him," was the blunt reply. "He's been at
it with others all the afternoon, and they haven't all got off as cheap
as you."</p>
<p>"Then my silver shall not embarrass you any longer," said I grandly. "I
meant to leave it if it was all right, but after all you have said I
certainly shall not. Let your man or men bring up the chest at once.
I dare say they also have been 'at it with others all the afternoon,'
but I shall make this worth their while."</p>
<p>I did not mind driving through the streets with the thing this time. My
present relief was too overwhelming as yet to admit of pangs and fears
for the immediate future. No summer sun had ever shone more brightly
than that rather watery one of early April. There was a green-and-gold
dust of buds and shoots on the trees as we passed the park. I felt
greater things sprouting in my heart. Hansoms passed with schoolboys
just home for the Easter holidays, four-wheelers outward bound, with
bicycles and perambulators atop; none that rode in them were half so
happy as I, with the great load on my cab, but the greater one off my
heart.</p>
<p>At Mount Street it just went into the lift; that was a stroke of luck;
and the lift-man and I between us carried it into my flat. It seemed a
featherweight to me now. I felt a Samson in the exaltation of that
hour. And I will not say what my first act was when I found myself
alone with my white elephant in the middle of the room; enough that the
siphon was still doing its work when the glass slipped through my
fingers to the floor.</p>
<p>"Bunny!"</p>
<p>It was Raffles. Yet for a moment I looked about me quite in vain. He
was not at the window; he was not at the open door. And yet Raffles it
had been, or at all events his voice, and that bubbling over with fun
and satisfaction, be his body where it might. In the end I dropped my
eyes, and there was his living face in the middle of the lid of the
chest, like that of the saint upon its charger.</p>
<p>But Raffles was alive, Raffles was laughing as though his vocal cords
would snap—there was neither tragedy nor illusion in the apparition of
Raffles. A life-size Jack-in-the-box, he had thrust his head through a
lid within the lid, cut by himself between the two iron bands that ran
round the chest like the straps of a portmanteau. He must have been
busy at it when I found him pretending to pack, if not far into that
night, for it was a very perfect piece of work; and even as I stared
without a word, and he crouched laughing in my face, an arm came
squeezing out, keys in hand; one was turned in either of the two great
padlocks, the whole lid lifted, and out stepped Raffles like the
conjurer he was.</p>
<p>"So you were the burglar!" I exclaimed at last. "Well, I am just as
glad I didn't know."</p>
<p>He had wrung my hand already, but at this he fairly mangled it in his.</p>
<p>"You dear little brick," he cried, "that's the one thing of all things
I longed to hear you say! How could you have behaved as you've done if
you had known? How could any living man? How could you have acted, as
the polar star of all the stages could not have acted in your place?
Remember that I have heard a lot, and as good as seen as much as I've
heard. Bunny, I don't know where you were greatest: at the Albany,
here, or at your bank!"</p>
<p>"I don't know where I was most miserable," I rejoined, beginning to see
the matter in a less perfervid light. "I know you don't credit me with
much finesse, but I would undertake to be in the secret and to do quite
as well; the only difference would be in my own peace of mind, which,
of course, doesn't count."</p>
<p>But Raffles wagged away with his most charming and disarming smile; he
was in old clothes, rather tattered and torn, and more than a little
grimy as to the face and hands, but, on the surface, wonderfully little
the worse for his experience. And, as I say, his smile was the smile
of the Raffles I loved best.</p>
<p>"You would have done your damnedest, Bunny! There is no limit to your
heroism; but you forget the human equation in the pluckiest of the
plucky. I couldn't afford to forget it, Bunny; I couldn't afford to
give a point away. Don't talk as though I hadn't trusted you! I
trusted my very life to your loyal tenacity. What do you suppose would
have happened to me if you had let me rip in that strong-room? Do you
think I would ever have crept out and given myself up? Yes, I'll have
a peg for once; the beauty of all laws is in the breaking, even of the
kind we make unto ourselves."</p>
<p>I had a Sullivan for him, too; and in another minute he was spread out
on my sofa, stretching his cramped limbs with infinite gusto, a
cigarette between his fingers, a yellow bumper at hand on the chest of
his triumph and my tribulation.</p>
<p>"Never mind when it occurred to me, Bunny; as a matter of fact, it was
only the other day, when I had decided to go away for the real reasons
I have already given you. I may have made more of them to you than I
do in my own mind, but at all events they exist. And I really did want
the telephone and the electric light."</p>
<p>"But where did you stow the silver before you went?"</p>
<p>"Nowhere; it was my luggage—a portmanteau, cricket-bag, and suit-case
full of very little else—and by the same token I left the lot at
Euston, and one of us must fetch them this evening."</p>
<p>"I can do that," said I. "But did you really go all the way to Crewe?"</p>
<p>"Didn't you get my note? I went all the way to Crewe to post you those
few lines, my dear Bunny! It's no use taking trouble if you don't take
trouble enough; I wanted you to show the proper set of faces at the
bank and elsewhere, and I know you did. Besides, there was an up-train
four minutes after mine got in. I simply posted my letter in Crewe
station, and changed from one train to the other."</p>
<p>"At two in the morning!"</p>
<p>"Nearer three, Bunny. It was after seven when I slung in with the
Daily Mail. The milk had beaten me by a short can. But even so I had
two very good hours before you were due."</p>
<p>"And to think," I murmured, "how you deceived me there!"</p>
<p>"With your own assistance," said Raffles laughing. "If you had looked
it up you would have seen there was no such train in the morning, and I
never said there was. But I meant you to be deceived, Bunny, and I
won't say I didn't—it was all for the sake of the side! Well, when
you carted me away with such laudable despatch, I had rather an
uncomfortable half-hour, but that was all just then. I had my candle,
I had matches, and lots to read. It was quite nice in that strong-room
until a very unpleasant incident occurred."</p>
<p>"Do tell me, my dear fellow!"</p>
<p>"I must have another Sullivan—thank you—and a match. The unpleasant
incident was steps outside and a key in the lock! I was disporting
myself on the lid of the trunk at the time. I had barely time to knock
out my light and slip down behind it. Luckily it was only another box
of sorts; a jewel-case, to be more precise; you shall see the contents
in a moment. The Easter exodus has done me even better than I dared to
hope."</p>
<p>His words reminded me of the Pall Mall Gazette, which I had brought in
my pocket from the Turkish bath. I fished it out, all wrinkled and
bloated by the heat of the hottest room, and handed it to Raffles with
my thumb upon the leaded paragraphs.</p>
<p>"Delightful!" said he when he had read them. "More thieves than one,
and the coal-cellar of all places as a way in! I certainly tried to
give it that appearance. I left enough candle-grease there to make
those coals burn bravely. But it looked up into a blind backyard,
Bunny, and a boy of eight couldn't have squeezed through the trap. Long
may that theory keep them happy at Scotland Yard!"</p>
<p>"But what about the fellow you knocked out?" I asked. "That was not
like you, Raffles."</p>
<p>Raffles blew pensive rings as he lay back on my sofa, his black hair
tumbled on the cushion, his pale profile as clear and sharp against the
light as though slashed out with the scissors.</p>
<p>"I know it wasn't, Bunny," he said regretfully. "But things like that,
as the poet will tell you, are really inseparable from victories like
mine. It had taken me a couple of hours to break out of that
strong-room; I was devoting a third to the harmless task of simulating
the appearance of having broken in; and it was then I heard the
fellow's stealthy step. Some might have stood their ground and killed
him; more would have bolted into a worse corner than they were in
already. I left my candle where it was, crept to meet the poor devil,
flattened myself against the wall, and let him have it as he passed. I
acknowledge the foul blow, but here's evidence that it was mercifully
struck. The victim has already told his tale."</p>
<p>As he drained his glass, but shook his head when I wished to replenish
it, Raffles showed me the flask which he had carried in his pocket: it
was still nearly full; and I found that he had otherwise provisioned
himself over the holidays. On either Easter Day or Bank Holiday, had I
failed him, it had been his intention to make the best escape he could.
But the risk must have been enormous, and it filled my glowing skin to
think that he had not relied on me in vain.</p>
<p>As for his gleanings from such jewel-cases as were spending the Easter
recess in the strong-room of my bank, (without going into rhapsodies or
even particulars on the point,) I may mention that they realized enough
for me to join Raffles on his deferred holiday in Scotland, besides
enabling him to play more regularly for Middlesex in the ensuing summer
than had been the case for several seasons. In fine, this particular
exploit entirely justified itself in my eyes, in spite of the
superfluous (but invariable) secretiveness which I could seldom help
resenting in my heart I never thought less of it than in the present
instance; and my one mild reproach was on the subject of the phantom
Crawshay.</p>
<p>"You let me think he was in the air again," I said. "But it wouldn't
surprise me to find that you had never heard of him since the day of
his escape through your window."</p>
<p>"I never even thought of him, Bunny, until you came to see me the day
before yesterday, and put him into my head with your first words. The
whole point was to make you as genuinely anxious about the plate as you
must have seemed all along the line."</p>
<p>"Of course I see your point," I rejoined; "but mine is that you labored
it. You needn't have written me a downright lie about the fellow."</p>
<p>"Nor did I, Bunny."</p>
<p>"Not about the 'prince of professors' being 'in the offing' when you
left?"</p>
<p>"My dear Bunny, but so he was!" cried Raffles. "Time was when I was
none too pure an amateur. But after this I take leave to consider
myself a professor of the professors. And I should like to see one
more capable of skippering their side!"</p>
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