Amateur Cracksman
103 pages
English

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103 pages
English

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Description

First published in 1899, The Amateur Cracksman was the first collection of stories detailing the exploits and intrigues of gentleman thief A. J. Raffles in late Victorian England. Raffles was E. W. Hornung's most famous character. Popular in its day, the book led to three later works: The Black Mask and A Thief in the Night, both collections of short stories, and Mr. Justice Raffles, a complete novel. 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.

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Publié par
Date de parution 01 juin 2009
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781775415107
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.

Extrait

THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN
* * *
E. W. HORNUNG
 
*

The Amateur Cracksman First published in 1899.
ISBN 978-1-775415-10-7
© 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
*
The Ides of March A Costume Piece Gentlemen and Players Le Premier Pas Wilful Murder Nine Points of the Law The Return Match The Gift of the Emperor
The Ides of March
*
I
It was half-past twelve when I returned to the Albany as a lastdesperate resort. The scene of my disaster was much as I hadleft it. The baccarat-counters still strewed the table, with theempty glasses and the loaded ash-trays. A window had been openedto let the smoke out, and was letting in the fog instead.Raffles himself had merely discarded his dining jacket for one ofhis innumerable blazers. Yet he arched his eyebrows as though Ihad dragged him from his bed.
"Forgotten something?" said he, when he saw me on his mat.
"No," said I, pushing past him without ceremony. And I led theway into his room with an impudence amazing to myself.
"Not come back for your revenge, have you? Because I'm afraid Ican't give it to you single-handed. I was sorry myself that theothers—"
We were face to face by his fireside, and I cut him short.
"Raffles," said I, "you may well be surprised at my coming backin this way and at this hour. I hardly know you. I was never inyour rooms before to-night. But I fagged for you at school, andyou said you remembered me. Of course that's no excuse; but willyou listen to me—for two minutes?"
In my emotion I had at first to struggle for every word; but hisface reassured me as I went on, and I was not mistaken in itsexpression.
"Certainly, my dear man," said he; "as many minutes as you like.Have a Sullivan and sit down." And he handed me his silvercigarette-case.
"No," said I, finding a full voice as I shook my head; "no, Iwon't smoke, and I won't sit down, thank you. Nor will you askme to do either when you've heard what I have to say."
"Really?" said he, lighting his own cigarette with one clear blueeye upon me. "How do you know?"
"Because you'll probably show me the door," I cried bitterly;"and you will be justified in doing it! But it's no use beatingabout the bush. You know I dropped over two hundred just now?"
He nodded.
"I hadn't the money in my pocket."
"I remember."
"But I had my check-book, and I wrote each of you a check at thatdesk."
"Well?"
"Not one of them was worth the paper it was written on, Raffles.I am overdrawn already at my bank!"
"Surely only for the moment?"
"No. I have spent everything."
"But somebody told me you were so well off. I heard you had comein for money?"
"So I did. Three years ago. It has been my curse; now it's allgone—every penny! Yes, I've been a fool; there never was norwill be such a fool as I've been. . . . Isn't this enough foryou? Why don't you turn me out?" He was walking up and downwith a very long face instead.
"Couldn't your people do anything?" he asked at length.
"Thank God," I cried, "I have no people! I was an only child. Icame in for everything there was. My one comfort is that they'regone, and will never know."
I cast myself into a chair and hid my face. Raffles continued topace the rich carpet that was of a piece with everything else inhis rooms. There was no variation in his soft and evenfootfalls.
"You used to be a literary little cuss," he said at length;"didn't you edit the mag. before you left? Anyway I recollectfagging you to do my verses; and literature of all sorts is thevery thing nowadays; any fool can make a living at it."
I shook my head. "Any fool couldn't write off my debts," said I.
"Then you have a flat somewhere?" he went on.
"Yes, in Mount Street."
"Well, what about the furniture?"
I laughed aloud in my misery. "There's been a bill of sale onevery stick for months!"
And at that Raffles stood still, with raised eyebrows and sterneyes that I could meet the better now that he knew the worst;then, with a shrug, he resumed his walk, and for some minutesneither of us spoke. But in his handsome, unmoved face I read myfate and death-warrant; and with every breath I cursed my follyand my cowardice in coming to him at all. Because he had beenkind to me at school, when he was captain of the eleven, and Ihis fag, I had dared to look for kindness from him now; because Iwas ruined, and he rich enough to play cricket all the summer,and do nothing for the rest of the year, I had fatuously countedon his mercy, his sympathy, his help! Yes, I had relied on himin my heart, for all my outward diffidence and humility; and Iwas rightly served. There was as little of mercy as of sympathyin that curling nostril, that rigid jaw, that cold blue eye whichnever glanced my way. I caught up my hat. I blundered to myfeet. I would have gone without a word; but Raffles stoodbetween me and the door.
"Where are you going?" said he.
"That's my business," I replied. "I won't trouble YOU any more."
"Then how am I to help you?"
"I didn't ask your help."
"Then why come to me?"
"Why, indeed!" I echoed. "Will you let me pass?"
"Not until you tell me where you are going and what you mean todo."
"Can't you guess?" I cried. And for many seconds we stoodstaring in each other's eyes.
"Have you got the pluck?" said he, breaking the spell in a toneso cynical that it brought my last drop of blood to the boil.
"You shall see," said I, as I stepped back and whipped the pistolfrom my overcoat pocket. "Now, will you let me pass or shall I doit here?"
The barrel touched my temple, and my thumb the trigger. Mad withexcitement as I was, ruined, dishonored, and now finallydetermined to make an end of my misspent life, my only surpriseto this day is that I did not do so then and there. Thedespicable satisfaction of involving another in one's destructionadded its miserable appeal to my baser egoism; and had fear orhorror flown to my companion's face, I shudder to think I mighthave died diabolically happy with that look for my last impiousconsolation. It was the look that came instead which held myhand. Neither fear nor horror were in it; only wonder,admiration, and such a measure of pleased expectancy as caused meafter all to pocket my revolver with an oath.
"You devil!" I said. "I believe you wanted me to do it!"
"Not quite," was the reply, made with a little start, and achange of color that came too late. "To tell you the truth,though, I half thought you meant it, and I was never morefascinated in my life. I never dreamt you had such stuff in you,Bunny! No, I'm hanged if I let you go now. And you'd better nottry that game again, for you won't catch me stand and look on asecond time. We must think of some way out of the mess. I hadno idea you were a chap of that sort! There, let me have thegun."
One of his hands fell kindly on my shoulder, while the otherslipped into my overcoat pocket, and I suffered him to deprive meof my weapon without a murmur. Nor was this simply becauseRaffles had the subtle power of making himself irresistible atwill. He was beyond comparison the most masterful man whom Ihave ever known; yet my acquiescence was due to more than themere subjection of the weaker nature to the stronger. The forlornhope which had brought me to the Albany was turned as by magicinto an almost staggering sense of safety. Raffles would help meafter all! A. J. Raffles would be my friend! It was as thoughall the world had come round suddenly to my side; so fartherefore from resisting his action, I caught and clasped hishand with a fervor as uncontrollable as the frenzy which hadpreceded it.
"God bless you!" I cried. "Forgive me for everything. I willtell you the truth. I DID think you might help me in myextremity, though I well knew that I had no claim upon you.Still—for the old school's sake—the sake of old times—Ithought you might give me another chance. If you wouldn't Imeant to blow out my brains—and will still if you change yourmind!"
In truth I feared that it was changing, with his expression, evenas I spoke, and in spite of his kindly tone and kindlier use ofmy old school nickname. His next words showed me my mistake.
"What a boy it is for jumping to conclusions! I have my vices,Bunny, but backing and filling is not one of them. Sit down, mygood fellow, and have a cigarette to soothe your nerves. Iinsist. Whiskey? The worst thing for you; here's some coffeethat I was brewing when you came in. Now listen to me. Youspeak of 'another chance.' What do you mean? Another chance atbaccarat? Not if I know it! You think the luck must turn;suppose it didn't? We should only have made bad worse. No, mydear chap, you've plunged enough. Do you put yourself in my handsor do you not? Very well, then you plunge no more, and Iundertake not to present my check. Unfortunately there are theother men; and still more unfortunately, Bunny, I'm as hard up atthis moment as you are yourself!"
It was my turn to stare at Raffles. "You?" I vociferated. "Youhard up? How am I to sit here and believe that?"
"Did I refuse to believe it of you?" he returned, smiling. "And,with your own experience, do you think that because a fellow hasrooms in this place, and belongs to a club or two, and plays alittle cricket, he must necessarily have a balance at the bank?I tell you, my dear man, that at this moment I'm as hard up asyou ever were. I have nothing but my wits to live on—absolutelynothing else. It was as necessary for me to win some money thisevening as it was for you. We're in the same boat, Bunny; we'dbetter

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