الفصل الفصل 7 · The Return Match

I had turned into Piccadilly, one thick evening in the following

November, when my guilty heart stood still at the sudden grip of a hand

upon my arm. I thought--I was always thinking--that my inevitable hour

was come at last. It was only Raffles, however, who stood smiling at

me through the fog.

"Well met!" said he. "I've been looking for you at the club."

"I was just on my way there," I returned, with an attempt to hide my

tremors. It was an ineffectual attempt, as I saw from his broader

smile, and by the indulgent shake of his head.

"Come up to my place instead," said he. "I've something amusing to

tell you."

I made excuses, for his tone foretold the kind of amusement, and it was

a kind against which I had successfully set my face for months. I have

stated before, however, and I can but reiterate, that to me, at all

events, there was never anybody in the world so irresistible as Raffles

when his mind was made up. That we had both been independent of crime

since our little service to Sir Bernard Debenham--that there had been

no occasion for that masterful mind to be made up in any such direction

for many a day--was the undeniable basis of a longer spell of honesty

than I had hitherto enjoyed during the term of our mutual intimacy. Be

sure I would deny it if I could; the very thing I am to tell you would

discredit such a boast. I made my excuses, as I have said.

But his arm slid through mine, with his little laugh of light-hearted

mastery. And even while I argued we were on his staircase in the

Albany.

His fire had fallen low. He poked and replenished it after lighting

the gas. As for me, I stood by sullenly in my overcoat until he

dragged it off my back.

"What a chap you are!" said Raffles, playfully. "One would really think

I had proposed to crack another crib this blessed night! Well, it

isn't that, Bunny; so get into that chair, and take one of these

Sullivans and sit tight."

He held the match to my cigarette; he brought me a whiskey and soda.

Then he went out into the lobby, and, just as I was beginning to feel

happy, I heard a bolt shot home. It cost me an effort to remain in

that chair; next moment he was straddling another and gloating over my

discomfiture across his folded arms.

"You remember Milchester, Bunny, old boy?"

His tone was as bland as mine was grim when I answered that I did.

"We had a little match there that wasn't down on the card. Gentlemen

and Players, if you recollect?"

"I don't forget it."

"Seeing that you never got an innings, so to speak, I thought you

might. Well, the Gentlemen scored pretty freely, but the Players were

all caught."

"Poor devils!"

"Don't be too sure. You remember the fellow we saw in the inn? The

florid, over-dressed chap who I told you was one of the cleverest

thieves in town?"

"I remember him. Crawshay his name turned out to be."

"Well, it was certainly the name he was convicted under, so Crawshay

let it be. You needn't waste any pity on HIM, old chap; he escaped

from Dartmoor yesterday afternoon."

"Well done!"

Raffles smiled, but his eyebrows had gone up, and his shoulders

followed suit.

"You are perfectly right; it was very well done indeed. I wonder you

didn't see it in the paper. In a dense fog on the moor yesterday good

old Crawshay made a bolt for it, and got away without a scratch under

heavy fire. All honor to him, I agree; a fellow with that much grit

deserves his liberty. But Crawshay has a good deal more. They hunted

him all night long; couldn't find him for nuts; and that was all you

missed in the morning papers."

He unfolded a Pall Mall, which he had brought in with him.

"But listen to this; here's an account of the escape, with just the

addition which puts the thing on a higher level. 'The fugitive has

been traced to Totnes, where he appears to have committed a peculiarly

daring outrage in the early hours of this morning. He is reported to

have entered the lodgings of the Rev. A. H. Ellingworth, curate of the

parish, who missed his clothes on rising at the usual hour; later in

the morning those of the convict were discovered neatly folded at the

bottom of a drawer. Meanwhile Crawshay had made good his second

escape, though it is believed that so distinctive a guise will lead to

his recapture during the day.' What do you think of that, Bunny?"

"He is certainly a sportsman," said I, reaching for the paper.

"He's more," said Raffles, "he's an artist, and I envy him. The

curate, of all men! Beautiful--beautiful! But that's not all. I saw

just now on the board at the club that there's been an outrage on the

line near Dawlish. Parson found insensible in the six-foot way. Our

friend again! The telegram doesn't say so, but it's obvious; he's

simply knocked some other fellow out, changed clothes again, and come

on gayly to town. Isn't it great? I do believe it's the best thing of

the kind that's ever been done!"

"But why should he come to town?"

In an instant the enthusiasm faded from Raffles's face; clearly I had

reminded him of some prime anxiety, forgotten in his impersonal joy

over the exploit of a fellow-criminal. He looked over his shoulder

towards the lobby before replying.

"I believe," said he, "that the beggar's on MY tracks!"

And as he spoke he was himself again--quietly amused--cynically

unperturbed--characteristically enjoying the situation and my surprise.

"But look here, what do you mean?" said I. "What does Crawshay know

about you?"

"Not much; but he suspects."

"Why should he?"

"Because, in his way he's very nearly as good a man as I am; because,

my dear Bunny, with eyes in his head and brains behind them, he

couldn't help suspecting. He saw me once in town with old Baird. He

must have seen me that day in the pub on the way to Milchester, as well

as afterwards on the cricket-field. As a matter of fact, I know he

did, for he wrote and told me so before his trial."

"He wrote to you! And you never told me!"

The old shrug answered the old grievance.

"What was the good, my dear fellow? It would only have worried you."

"Well, what did he say?"

"That he was sorry he had been run in before getting back to town, as

he had proposed doing himself the honor of paying me a call; however,

he trusted it was only a pleasure deferred, and he begged me not to go

and get lagged myself before he came out. Of course he knew the

Melrose necklace was gone, though he hadn't got it; and he said that

the man who could take that and leave the rest was a man after his own

heart. And so on, with certain little proposals for the far future,

which I fear may be the very near future indeed! I'm only surprised he

hasn't turned up yet."

He looked again towards the lobby, which he had left in darkness, with

the inner door shut as carefully as the outer one. I asked him what he

meant to do.

"Let him knock--if he gets so far. The porter is to say I'm out of

town; it will be true, too, in another hour or so."

"You're going off to-night?"

"By the 7.15 from Liverpool Street. I don't say much about my people,

Bunny, but I have the best of sisters married to a country parson in

the eastern counties. They always make me welcome, and let me read the

lessons for the sake of getting me to church. I'm sorry you won't be

there to hear me on Sunday, Bunny. I've figured out some of my best

schemes in that parish, and I know of no better port in a storm. But I

must pack. I thought I'd just let you know where I was going, and why,

in case you cared to follow my example."

He flung the stump of his cigarette into the fire, stretched himself as

he rose, and remained so long in the inelegant attitude that my eyes

mounted from his body to his face; a second later they had followed his

eyes across the room, and I also was on my legs. On the threshold of

the folding doors that divided bedroom and sitting-room, a well-built

man stood in ill-fitting broadcloth, and bowed to us until his bullet

head presented an unbroken disk of short red hair.

Brief as was my survey of this astounding apparition, the interval was

long enough for Raffles to recover his composure; his hands were in his

pockets, and a smile upon his face, when my eyes flew back to him.

"Let me introduce you, Bunny," said he, "to our distinguished

colleague, Mr. Reginald Crawshay."

The bullet head bobbed up, and there was a wrinkled brow above the

coarse, shaven face, crimson also, I remember, from the grip of a

collar several sizes too small. But I noted nothing consciously at the

time. I had jumped to my own conclusion, and I turned on Raffles with

an oath.

"It's a trick!" I cried. "It's another of your cursed tricks! You got

him here, and then you got me. You want me to join you, I suppose?

I'll see you damned!"

So cold was the stare which met this outburst that I became ashamed of

my words while they were yet upon my lips.

"Really, Bunny!" said Raffles, and turned his shoulder with a shrug.

"Lord love yer," cried Crawshay, "'_e_ knew nothin'. _'E_ didn't

expect me; 'e'S all right. And you're the cool canary, _you_ are," he

went on to Raffles. "I knoo you were, but, do me proud, you're one

after my own kidney!" And he thrust out a shaggy hand.

"After that," said Raffles, taking it, "what am I to say? But you must

have heard my opinion of you. I am proud to make your acquaintance.

How the deuce did you get in?"

"Never you mind," said Crawshay, loosening his collar; "let's talk

about how I'm to get out. Lord love yer, but that's better!"

There was a livid ring round his bull-neck, that he fingered tenderly.

"Didn't know how much longer I might have to play the gent," he

explained; "didn't know who you'd bring in."

"Drink whiskey and soda?" inquired Raffles, when the convict was in the

chair from which I had leapt.

"No, I drink it neat," replied Crawshay, "but I talk business first.

You don't get over me like that, Lor' love yer!"

"Well, then, what can I do for you?"

"You know without me tellin' you."

"Give it a name."

"Clean heels, then; that's what I want to show, and I leaves the way to

you. We're brothers in arms, though I ain't armed this time. It ain't

necessary. You've too much sense. But brothers we are, and you'll see

a brother through. Let's put it at that. You'll see me through in yer

own way. I leaves it all to you."

His tone was rich with conciliation and concession; he bent over and

tore a pair of button boots from his bare feet, which he stretched

towards the fire, painfully uncurling his toes.

"I hope you take a larger size than them," said he. "I'd have had a

see if you'd given me time. I wasn't in long afore you."

"And you won't tell me how you got in?"

"Wot's the use? I can't teach YOU nothin'. Besides, I want out. I

want out of London, an' England, an' bloomin' Europe too. That's all I

want of you, mister. I don't arst how YOU go on the job. You know

w'ere I come from, 'cos I 'eard you say; you know w'ere I want to 'ead

for, 'cos I've just told yer; the details I leaves entirely to you."

"Well," said Raffles, "we must see what can be done."

"We must," said Mr. Crawshay, and leaned back comfortably, and began

twirling his stubby thumbs.

Raffles turned to me with a twinkle in his eye; but his forehead was

scored with thought, and resolve mingled with resignation in the lines

of his mouth. And he spoke exactly as though he and I were alone in

the room.

"You seize the situation, Bunny? If our friend here is 'copped,' to

speak his language, he means to 'blow the gaff' on you and me. He is

considerate enough not to say so in so many words, but it's plain

enough, and natural enough for that matter. I would do the same in his

place. We had the bulge before; he has it now; it's perfectly fair. We

must take on this job; we aren't in a position to refuse it; even if we

were, I should take it on! Our friend is a great sportsman; he has got

clear away from Dartmoor; it would be a thousand pities to let him go

back. Nor shall he; not if I can think of a way of getting him abroad."

"Any way you like," murmured Crawshay, with his eyes shut. "I leaves

the 'ole thing to you."

"But you'll have to wake up and tell us things."

"All right, mister; but I'm fair on the rocks for a sleep!"

And he stood up, blinking.

"Think you were traced to town?"

"Must have been."

"And here?"

"Not in this fog--not with any luck."

Raffles went into the bedroom, lit the gas there, and returned next

minute.

"So you got in by the window?"

"That's about it."

"It was devilish smart of you to know which one; it beats me how you

brought it off in daylight, fog or no fog! But let that pass. You

don't think you were seen?"

"I don't think it, sir."

"Well, let's hope you are right. I shall reconnoitre and soon find

out. And you'd better come too, Bunny, and have something to eat and

talk it over."

As Raffles looked at me, I looked at Crawshay, anticipating trouble;

and trouble brewed in his blank, fierce face, in the glitter of his

startled eyes, in the sudden closing of his fists.

"And what's to become o' me?" he cried out with an oath.

"You wait here."

"No, you don't," he roared, and at a bound had his back to the door.

"You don't get round me like that, you cuckoos!"

Raffles turned to me with a twitch of the shoulders. "That's the worst

of these professors," said he; "they never will use their heads. They

see the pegs, and they mean to hit 'em; but that's all they do see and

mean, and they think we're the same. No wonder we licked them last

time!"

"Don't talk through yer neck," snarled the convict. "Talk out

straight, curse you!"

"Right," said Raffles. "I'll talk as straight as you like. You say

you put yourself in my hands--you leave it all to me--yet you don't

trust me an inch! I know what's to happen if I fail. I accept the

risk. I take this thing on. Yet you think I'm going straight out to

give you away and make you give me away in my turn. You're a fool, Mr.

Crawshay, though you have broken Dartmoor; you've got to listen to a

better man, and obey him. I see you through in my own way, or not at

all. I come and go as I like, and with whom I like, without your

interference; you stay here and lie just as low as you know how, be as

wise as your word, and leave the whole thing to me. If you won't--if

you're fool enough not to trust me--there's the door. Go out and say

what you like, and be damned to you!"

Crawshay slapped his thigh.

"That's talking!" said he. "Lord love yer, I know where I am when you

talk like that. I'll trust yer. I know a man when he gets his tongue

between his teeth; you're all right. I don't say so much about this

other gent, though I saw him along with you on the job that time in the

provinces; but if he's a pal of yours, Mr. Raffles, he'll be all right

too. I only hope you gents ain't too stony--"

And he touched his pockets with a rueful face.

"I only went for their togs," said he. "You never struck two such

stony-broke cusses in yer life!"

"That's all right," said Raffles. "We'll see you through properly.

Leave it to us, and you sit tight."

"Rightum!" said Crawshay. "And I'll have a sleep time you're gone.

But no sperrits--no, thank'ee--not yet! Once let me loose on the lush,

and, Lord love yer, I'm a gone coon!"

Raffles got his overcoat, a long, light driving-coat, I remember, and

even as he put it on our fugitive was dozing in the chair; we left him

murmuring incoherently, with the gas out, and his bare feet toasting.

"Not such a bad chap, that professor," said Raffles on the stairs; "a

real genius in his way, too, though his methods are a little elementary

for my taste. But technique isn't everything; to get out of Dartmoor

and into the Albany in the same twenty-four hours is a whole that

justifies its parts. Good Lord!"

We had passed a man in the foggy courtyard, and Raffles had nipped my

arm.

"Who was it?"

"The last man we want to see! I hope to heaven he didn't hear me!"

"But who is he, Raffles?"

"Our old friend Mackenzie, from the Yard!"

I stood still with horror.

"Do you think he's on Crawshay's track?"

"I don't know. I'll find out."

And before I could remonstrate he had wheeled me round; when I found my

voice he merely laughed, and whispered that the bold course was the

safe one every time.

"But it's madness--"

"Not it. Shut up! Is that YOU, Mr. Mackenzie?"

The detective turned about and scrutinized us keenly; and through the

gaslit mist I noticed that his hair was grizzled at the temples, and

his face still cadaverous, from the wound that had nearly been his

death.

"Ye have the advantage o' me, sirs," said he.

"I hope you're fit again," said my companion. "My name is Raffles, and

we met at Milchester last year."

"Is that a fact?" cried the Scotchman, with quite a start. "Yes, now I

remember your face, and yours too, sir. Ay, yon was a bad business,

but it ended vera well, an' that's the main thing."

His native caution had returned to him. Raffles pinched my arm.

"Yes, it ended splendidly, but for you," said he. "But what about this

escape of the leader of the gang, that fellow Crawshay? What do you

think of that, eh?"

"I havena the parteeculars," replied the Scot.

"Good!" cried Raffles. "I was only afraid you might be on his tracks

once more!"

Mackenzie shook his head with a dry smile, and wished us good evening

as an invisible window was thrown up, and a whistle blown softly

through the fog.

"We must see this out," whispered Raffles. "Nothing more natural than a

little curiosity on our part. After him, quick!"

And we followed the detective into another entrance on the same side as

that from which we had emerged, the left-hand side on one's way to

Piccadilly; quite openly we followed him, and at the foot of the stairs

met one of the porters of the place. Raffles asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing, sir," said the fellow glibly.

"Rot!" said Raffles. "That was Mackenzie, the detective. I've just

been speaking to him. What's he here for? Come on, my good fellow; we

won't give you away, if you've instructions not to tell."

The man looked quaintly wistful, the temptation of an audience hot upon

him; a door shut upstairs, and he fell.

"It's like this," he whispered. "This afternoon a gen'leman comes

arfter rooms, and I sent him to the orfice; one of the clurks, 'e goes

round with 'im an' shows 'im the empties, an' the gen'leman's partic'ly

struck on the set the coppers is up in now. So he sends the clurk to

fetch the manager, as there was one or two things he wished to speak

about; an' when they come back, blowed if the gent isn't gone! Beg yer

pardon, sir, but he's clean disappeared off the face o' the premises!"

And the porter looked at us with shining eyes.

"Well?" said Raffles.

"Well, sir, they looked about, an' looked about, an' at larst they give

him up for a bad job; thought he'd changed his mind an' didn't want to

tip the clurk; so they shut up the place an' come away. An' that's all

till about 'alf an hour ago, when I takes the manager his extry-speshul

Star; in about ten minutes he comes running out with a note, an' sends

me with it to Scotland Yard in a hansom. An' that's all I know,

sir--straight. The coppers is up there now, and the tec, and the

manager, and they think their gent is about the place somewhere still.

Least, I reckon that's their idea; but who he is, or what they want him

for, I dunno."

"Jolly interesting!" said Raffles. "I'm going up to inquire. Come on,

Bunny; there should be some fun."

"Beg yer pardon, Mr. Raffles, but you won't say nothing about me?"

"Not I; you're a good fellow. I won't forget it if this leads to

sport. Sport!" he whispered as we reached the landing. "It looks like

precious poor sport for you and me, Bunny!"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. There's no time to think. This, to start with."

And he thundered on the shut door; a policeman opened it. Raffles

strode past him with the air of a chief commissioner, and I followed

before the man had recovered from his astonishment. The bare boards

rang under us; in the bedroom we found a knot of officers stooping over

the window-ledge with a constable's lantern. Mackenzie was the first

to stand upright, and he greeted us with a glare.

"May I ask what you gentlemen want?" said he.

"We want to lend a hand," said Raffles briskly. "We lent one once

before, and it was my friend here who took over from you the fellow who

split on all the rest, and held him tightly. Surely that entitles him,

at all events, to see any fun that's going? As for myself, well, it's

true I only helped to carry you to the house; but for old acquaintance

I do hope, my dear Mr. Mackenzie, that you will permit us to share such

sport as there may be. I myself can only stop a few minutes, in any

case."

"Then ye'll not see much," growled the detective, "for he's not up

here. Constable, go you and stand at the foot o' the stairs, and let

no other body come up on any conseederation; these gentlemen may be

able to help us after all."

"That's kind of you, Mackenzie!" cried Raffles warmly. "But what is it

all? I questioned a porter I met coming down, but could get nothing

out of him, except that somebody had been to see these rooms and not

since been seen himself."

"He's a man we want," said Mackenzie. "He's concealed himself

somewhere about these premises, or I'm vera much mistaken. D'ye reside

in the Albany, Mr. Raffles?"

"I do."

"Will your rooms be near these?"

"On the next staircase but one."

"Ye'll just have left them?"

"Just."

"Been in all the afternoon, likely?"

"Not all."

"Then I may have to search your rooms, sir. I am prepared to search

every room in the Albany! Our man seems to have gone for the leads;

but unless he's left more marks outside than in, or we find him up

there, I shall have the entire building to ransack."

"I will leave you my key," said Raffles at once. "I am dining out, but

I'll leave it with the officer down below."

I caught my breath in mute amazement. What was the meaning of this

insane promise? It was wilful, gratuitous, suicidal; it made me catch

at his sleeve in open horror and disgust; but, with a word of thanks,

Mackenzie had returned to his window-sill, and we sauntered unwatched

through the folding-doors into the adjoining room. Here the window

looked down into the courtyard; it was still open; and as we gazed out

in apparent idleness, Raffles reassured me.

"It's all right, Bunny; you do what I tell you and leave the rest to

me. It's a tight corner, but I don't despair. What you've got to do

is to stick to these chaps, especially if they search my rooms; they

mustn't poke about more than necessary, and they won't if you're there."

"But where will you be? You're never going to leave me to be landed

alone?"

"If I do, it will be to turn up trumps at the right moment. Besides,

there are such things as windows, and Crawshay's the man to take his

risks. You must trust me, Bunny; you've known me long enough."

"Are you going now?"

"There's no time to lose. Stick to them, old chap; don't let them

suspect YOU, whatever else you do." His hand lay an instant on my

shoulder; then he left me at the window, and recrossed the room.

"I've got to go now," I heard him say; "but my friend will stay and see

this through, and I'll leave the gas on in my rooms, and my key with

the constable downstairs. Good luck, Mackenzie; only wish I could

stay."

"Good-by, sir," came in a preoccupied voice, "and many thanks."

Mackenzie was still busy at his window, and I remained at mine, a prey

to mingled fear and wrath, for all my knowledge of Raffles and of his

infinite resource. By this time I felt that I knew more or less what

he would do in any given emergency; at least I could conjecture a

characteristic course of equal cunning and audacity. He would return

to his rooms, put Crawshay on his guard, and--stow him away? No--there

were such things as windows. Then why was Raffles going to desert us

all? I thought of many things--lastly of a cab. These bedroom windows

looked into a narrow side-street; they were not very high; from them a

man might drop on to the roof of a cab--even as it passed--and be

driven away even under the noses of the police! I pictured Raffles

driving that cab, unrecognizable in the foggy night; the vision came to

me as he passed under the window, tucking up the collar of his great

driving-coat on the way to his rooms; it was still with me when he

passed again on his way back, and stopped to hand the constable his key.

"We're on his track," said a voice behind me. "He's got up on the

leads, sure enough, though how he managed it from yon window is a

myst'ry to me. We're going to lock up here and try what like it is

from the attics. So you'd better come with us if you've a mind."

The top floor at the Albany, as elsewhere, is devoted to the

servants--a congeries of little kitchens and cubicles, used by many as

lumber-rooms--by Raffles among the many. The annex in this case was,

of course, empty as the rooms below; and that was lucky, for we filled

it, what with the manager, who now joined us, and another tenant whom

he brought with him to Mackenzie's undisguised annoyance.

"Better let in all Piccadilly at a crown a head," said he. "Here, my

man, out you go on the roof to make one less, and have your truncheon

handy."

We crowded to the little window, which Mackenzie took care to fill; and

a minute yielded no sound but the crunch and slither of constabulary

boots upon sooty slates. Then came a shout.

"What now?" cried Mackenzie.

"A rope," we heard, "hanging from the spout by a hook!"

"Sirs," purred Mackenzie, "yon's how he got up from below! He would do

it with one o' they telescope sticks, an' I never thocht o't! How long

a rope, my lad?"

"Quite short. I've got it."

"Did it hang over a window? Ask him that!" cried the manager. "He can

see by leaning over the parapet."

The question was repeated by Mackenzie; a pause, then "Yes, it did."

"Ask him how many windows along!" shouted the manager in high

excitement.

"Six, he says," said Mackenzie next minute; and he drew in his head and

shoulders. "I should just like to see those rooms, six windows along."

"Mr. Raffles," announced the manager after a mental calculation.

"Is that a fact?" cried Mackenzie. "Then we shall have no difficulty

at all. He's left me his key down below."

The words had a dry, speculative intonation, which even then I found

time to dislike; it was as though the coincidence had already struck

the Scotchman as something more.

"Where is Mr. Raffles?" asked the manager, as we all filed downstairs.

"He's gone out to his dinner," said Mackenzie.

"Are you sure?"

"I saw him go," said I. My heart was beating horribly. I would not

trust myself to speak again. But I wormed my way to a front place in

the little procession, and was, in fact, the second man to cross the

threshold that had been the Rubicon of my life. As I did so I uttered

a cry of pain, for Mackenzie had trod back heavily on my toes; in

another second I saw the reason, and saw it with another and a louder

cry.

A man was lying at full length before the fire on his back, with a

little wound in the white forehead, and the blood draining into his

eyes. And the man was Raffles himself!

"Suicide," said Mackenzie calmly. "No--here's the poker--looks more

like murder." He went on his knees and shook his head quite

cheerfully. "An' it's not even murder," said he, with a shade of

disgust in his matter-of-fact voice; "yon's no more than a flesh-wound,

and I have my doubts whether it felled him; but, sirs, he just stinks

o' chloryform!"

He got up and fixed his keen gray eyes upon me; my own were full of

tears, but they faced him unashamed.

"I understood ye to say ye saw him go out?" said he sternly.

"I saw that long driving-coat; of course, I thought he was inside it."

"And I could ha' sworn it was the same gent when he give me the key!"

It was the disconsolate voice of the constable in the background; on

him turned Mackenzie, white to the lips.

"You'd think anything, some of you damned policemen," said he. "What's

your number, you rotter? P 34? You'll be hearing more of this, Mr. P

34! If that gentleman was dead--instead of coming to himself while I'm

talking--do you know what you'd be? Guilty of his manslaughter, you

stuck pig in buttons! Do you know who you've let slip, butter-fingers?

Crawshay--no less--him that broke Dartmoor yesterday. By the God that

made ye, P 34, if I lose him I'll hound ye from the forrce!"

Working face--shaking fist--a calm man on fire. It was a new side of

Mackenzie, and one to mark and to digest. Next moment he had flounced

from our midst.

"Difficult thing to break your own head," said Raffles later;

"infinitely easier to cut your own throat. Chloroform's another

matter; when you've used it on others, you know the dose to a nicety.

So you thought I was really gone? Poor old Bunny! But I hope

Mackenzie saw your face?"

"He did," said I. I would not tell him all Mackenzie must have seen,

however.

"That's all right. I wouldn't have had him miss it for worlds; and you

mustn't think me a brute, old boy, for I fear that man, and, know, we

sink or swim together."

"And now we sink or swim with Crawshay, too," said I dolefully.

"Not we!" said Raffles with conviction. "Old Crawshay's a true

sportsman, and he'll do by us as we've done by him; besides, this makes

us quits; and I don't think, Bunny, that we'll take on the professors

again!"