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115 pages

English

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First published in 1905, A Thief in the Night is the third collection of stories detailing the exploits and intrigues of gentleman thief A. J. Raffles in late Victorian England. In public a popular sportsman, in private a cunning burglar with a weakness for valuable jewelery, Arthur Raffles, with the help of his side-kick Bunny Manders, always manages to thwart the investigations of Scotland Yard's Inspector Mackenzie. Popular in its day, this is the last collection of short stories about E. W. Hornung's most famous character - followed only by a novel, Mr. Justice Raffles.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 juin 2009
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775415114
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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A THIEF IN THE NIGHT
A BOOK OF RAFFLES' ADVENTURES
* * *
E. W. HORNUNG

*

A Thief in the Night A Book of Raffles' Adventures First published in 1905.
ISBN 978-1-775415-11-4
© 2009 THE FLOATING PRESS.
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
Out of Paradise The Chest of Silver The Rest Cure The Criminologists' Club The Field of Phillipi A Bad Night A Trap to Catch a Cracksman The Spoils of Sacrilege The Raffles Relics The Last Word
Out of Paradise
*
If I must tell more tales of Raffles, I can but back to ourearliest days together, and fill in the blanks left by discretionin existing annals. In so doing I may indeed fill some small partof an infinitely greater blank, across which you may conceive meto have stretched my canvas for the first frank portrait of myfriend. The whole truth cannot harm him now. I shall paint inevery wart. Raffles was a villain, when all is written; it is noservice to his memory to glaze the fact; yet I have done so myselfbefore to-day. I have omitted whole heinous episodes. I havedwelt unduly on the redeeming side. And this I may do again, blindedeven as I write by the gallant glamour that made my villain more tome than any hero. But at least there shall be no more reservations,and as an earnest I shall make no further secret of the greatestwrong that even Raffles ever did me.
I pick my words with care and pain, loyal as I still would be to myfriend, and yet remembering as I must those Ides of March when heled me blindfold into temptation and crime. That was an ugly office,if you will. It was a moral bagatelle to the treacherous trick hewas to play me a few weeks later. The second offence, on the otherhand, was to prove the less serious of the two against society, andmight in itself have been published to the world years ago. Therehave been private reasons for my reticence. The affair was not onlytoo intimately mine, and too discreditable to Raffles. One otherwas involved in it, one dearer to me than Raffles himself, one whosename shall not even now be sullied by association with ours.
Suffice it that I had been engaged to her before that mad Marchdeed. True, her people called it "an understanding," and frownedeven upon that, as well they might. But their authority was notdirect; we bowed to it as an act of politic grace; between us, allwas well but my unworthiness. That may be gauged when I confessthat this was how the matter stood on the night I gave a worthlesscheck for my losses at baccarat, and afterward turned to Raffles inmy need. Even after that I saw her sometimes. But I let her guessthat there was more upon my soul than she must ever share, and atlast I had written to end it all. I remember that week so well! Itwas the close of such a May as we had never had since, and I was toomiserable even to follow the heavy scoring in the papers. Raffleswas the only man who could get a wicket up at Lord's, and I neveronce went to see him play. Against Yorkshire, however, he helpedhimself to a hundred runs as well; and that brought Raffles roundto me, on his way home to the Albany.
"We must dine and celebrate the rare event," said he. "A centurytakes it out of one at my time of life; and you, Bunny, you lookquite as much in need of your end of a worthy bottle. Suppose wemake it the Cafe Royal, and eight sharp? I'll be there first to fixup the table and the wine."
And at the Cafe Royal I incontinently told him of the trouble I wasin. It was the first he had ever heard of my affair, and I toldhim all, though not before our bottle had been succeeded by a pintof the same exemplary brand. Raffles heard me out with graveattention. His sympathy was the more grateful for the tactfulbrevity with which it was indicated rather than expressed. He onlywished that I had told him of this complication in the beginning; asI had not, he agreed with me that the only course was a candid andcomplete renunciation. It was not as though my divinity had a pennyof her own, or I could earn an honest one. I had explained toRaffles that she was an orphan, who spent most of her time with anaristocratic aunt in the country, and the remainder under therepressive roof of a pompous politician in Palace Gardens. The aunthad, I believed, still a sneaking softness for me, but herillustrious brother had set his face against me from the first.
"Hector Carruthers!" murmured Raffles, repeating the detested namewith his clear, cold eye on mine. "I suppose you haven't seen muchof him?"
"Not a thing for ages," I replied. "I was at the house two or threedays last year, but they've neither asked me since nor been at hometo me when I've called. The old beast seems a judge of men."
And I laughed bitterly in my glass.
"Nice house?" said Raffles, glancing at himself in his silvercigarette-case.
"Top shelf," said I. "You know the houses in Palace Gardens, don'tyou?"
"Not so well as I should like to know them, Bunny."
"Well, it's about the most palatial of the lot. The old ruffian isas rich as Croesus. It's a country-place in town."
"What about the window-fastenings?" asked Raffles casually.
I recoiled from the open cigarette-case that he proffered as hespoke. Our eyes met; and in his there was that starry twinkle ofmirth and mischief, that sunny beam of audacious devilment, whichhad been my undoing two months before, which was to undo me as oftenas he chose until the chapter's end. Yet for once I withstood itsglamour; for once I turned aside that luminous glance with front ofsteel. There was no need for Raffles to voice his plans. I readthem all between the strong lines of his smiling, eager face. AndI pushed back my chair in the equal eagerness of my own resolve.
"Not if I know it!" said I. "A house I've dined in - a house I've seen her in - a house where she stays by the month together! Don'tput it into words, Raffles, or I'll get up and go."
"You mustn't do that before the coffee and liqueur," said Raffleslaughing. "Have a small Sullivan first: it's the royal road to acigar. And now let me observe that your scruples would do you honorif old Carruthers still lived in the house in question."
"Do you mean to say he doesn't?"
Raffles struck a match, and handed it first to me. "I mean to say,my dear Bunny, that Palace Gardens knows the very name no more. Youbegan by telling me you had heard nothing of these people all thisyear. That's quite enough to account for our little misunderstanding.I was thinking of the house, and you were thinking of the people inthe house."
"But who are they, Raffles? Who has taken the house, if oldCarruthers has moved, and how do you know that it is still worth avisit?"
"In answer to your first question - Lord Lochmaben," replied Raffles,blowing bracelets of smoke toward the ceiling. "You look as thoughyou had never heard of him; but as the cricket and racing are theonly part of your paper that you condescend to read, you can't beexpected to keep track of all the peers created in your time. Yourother question is not worth answering. How do you suppose that Iknow these things? It's my business to get to know them, and that'sall there is to it. As a matter of fact, Lady Lochmaben has justas good diamonds as Mrs. Carruthers ever had; and the chances arethat she keeps them where Mrs. Carruthers kept hers, if you couldenlighten me on that point."
As it happened, I could, since I knew from his niece that it wasone on which Mr. Carruthers had been a faddist in his time. Hehad made quite a study of the cracksman's craft, in a resolve tocircumvent it with his own. I remembered myself how the ground-floorwindows were elaborately bolted and shuttered, and how the doors ofall the rooms opening upon the square inner hall were fitted withextra Yale locks, at an unlikely height, not to be discovered by onewithin the room. It had been the butler's business to turn and tocollect all these keys before retiring for the night. But the keyof the safe in the study was supposed to be in the jealous keepingof the master of the house himself. That safe was in its turn soingeniously hidden that I never should have found it for myself. Iwell remember how one who showed it to me (in the innocence of herheart) laughed as she assured me that even her little trinkets weresolemnly locked up in it every night. It had been let into the wallbehind one end of the book-case, expressly to preserve the barbaricsplendor of Mrs. Carruthers; without a doubt these Lochmabens woulduse it for the same purpose; and in the altered circumstances I hadno hesitation in giving Raffles all the information he desired. Ieven drew him a rough plan of the ground-floor on the back of mymenu-card.
"It was rather clever of you to notice the kind of locks on theinner doors," he remarked as he put it in his pocket. "I suppose youdon't remember if it was a Yale on the front door as well?"
"It was not," I was able to answer quite promptly. "I happen to knowbecause I once had the key when - when we went to a theatre together."
"Thank you, old chap," said Raffles sympathetically. "That's all Ishall want from you, Bunny, my boy. There's no night like to-night!"
It was one of his sayings when bent upon his worst. I looked at himaghast. Our cigars were just in blast, yet already he was signallingfor his bill. It was impossible to remonstrate with him until wewere both outside in the street.
"I'm coming with you," said I, running my arm through his.
"Nonsense, Bunny!"
"Why is it nonsense? I know every inch of the ground, and since thehouse has