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Updated: May 1, 2025
I had called at the Albany for the fiftieth time, and returned to Piccadilly in my usual despair, when a street sloucher sidled up to me in furtive fashion and inquired if my name was what it is. "'Cause this 'ere's for you," he rejoined to my affirmative, and with that I felt a crumpled note in my palm. It was from Raffles.
"Exactly," said Raffles, nodding to himself, as though in assent to some hidden train of thought; "exactly what I remember of you, and I'll bet it's as true now as it was ten years ago. We don't alter, Bunny. We only develop. I suppose neither you nor I are really altered since you used to let down that rope and I used to come up it hand over hand. You would stick at nothing for a pal what?"
"Take that young biter," cried Levy, "and throw him into the street. Call up Moses to lend you a 'and." But the first murderer stood nonplussed, looking from Raffles to me, and finally inquiring which biter his master meant. "That one!" bellowed the money-lender, shaking a lethal fist at me. "Mr. Raffles is a friend o' mine." "But 'e'th a friend of 'ith too," lisped the young man.
I was used to sleeping in the open, under the jewelled dome that seems so much vaster and grander in these wide spaces of the earth. I lay listening to the horses, and to the myriad small strange voices of the veldt, to which I cannot even now put a name, while Raffles watched. "One head is better than two," he said, "when you don't want it to be seen."
Haw stood long in front of the "Signing of Magna Charta," and the "Murder of Thomas a Becket," screwing up his eyes and twitching nervously at his beard, while Robert stood by in anxious expectancy. "And how much are these?" asked Raffles Haw at last. "I priced them at a hundred apiece when I sent them to London."
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.
The doctor's manner was certainly different. I'm inclined to think he suspected something, though not the right thing. I wasn't expecting him, and I fear my appearance may have increased his suspicions." I asked him why. "I used to have rather a heavy moustache," said Raffles, "but I lost it the day after I lost my innocence."
But it was hardly likely to be the last excitement of the night, as I saw for myself before Raffles joined me at Vauxhall. An arch-traitor like Daniel Levy might at least be trusted to play the game out with loaded dice; no single sportsman could compete against his callous machinations; and that was obviously where I was coming in. I only wished I had not come in before!
Strenuously earnest must have been the work which Raffles Haw had done that day. And suddenly Robert thought of the secret which had been treasured in the casket within the iron-clamped box. It was to tell him the one last essential link which would make his knowledge of the process complete. Was it still there? Thrilling all over, he opened the great chest, and drew out the ivory box.
There's not the smallest harm in it now; and if you'll come with me I'll show you how it used to be done." "But I know," said I. "Who used to haul up the rope after you, and let it down again to the minute?" Raffles looked down on me from lowered lids, over a smile too humorous to offend. "My dear good Bunny! And do you suppose that even then I had only one way of doing a thing?
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