A Thief in the Night [45]
man down there, Nasmyth!"
I never saw a nobler embarrassment than that of this awkward, ungainly, cantankerous man: all. his angles seemed to have been smoothed away: there was something quite human in the flushed, undecided, wistful face. "I never was popular in my life," he said. "I don't want to buy my popularity now. To be perfectly candid with you, Raffles - "
"Don't! I can't stop to hear. They're ringing the bell. But you shouldn't have been angry with me for saying you were a generous good chap, Nasmyth, when you were one all. the time. Good-by, old fellow!"
But Nasmyth detained us a second more. His hesitation was at an end. There was a sudden new light in his face.
"Was I?" he cried. "Then I'll make it two hundred, and damn the odds!"
Raffles was a thoughtful man as we went to our seats. He saw nobody, would acknowledge no remark. Neither did he attend to the cricket for the first half-hour after lunch; instead, he eventually invited me to come for a stroll on the practice ground, where, however, we found two chairs aloof from the fascinating throng.
"I am not often sorry, Bunny, as you know," he began. "But I have been sorry since the interval. I've been sorry for poor old Nipper Nasmyth. Did you see the idea of being popular dawn upon him for the first time in his life?"
"I did; but you had nothing to do with that, my dear man."
Raffles shook his head over me as our eyes met. "I had everything to do with it. I tried to make him tell the meanest lie. I made sure he would, and for that matter he nearly did. Then, at the last moment, he saw how to hedge things with his conscience. And his second hundred will be a real gift."
"You mean under his own name - "
"And with his own free-will. My good Bunny, is it possible you don't know what I did with the hundred we drew from that bank!"
"I knew what you were going to do with it," said I. "I didn't know you had actually got further than the twenty-five you told me you were sending as your own contribution."
Raffles rose abruptly from his chair.
"And you actually thought that came out of his money?"
"Naturally."
"In my name?"
"I thought so."
Raffles stared at me inscrutably for some moments, and for some more at the great white numbers over the grand-stand.
"We may as well have another look at the cricket," said he. "It's difficult to see the board from here, but I believe there's another man out."
A Bad Night
There was to be a certain little wedding in which Raffles and I took a surreptitious interest. The bride-elect was living in some retirement, with a recently widowed mother and an asthmatical brother, in a mellow hermitage on the banks of the Mole. The bridegroom was a prosperous son of the same suburban soil which had nourished both families for generations. The wedding presents were so numerous as to fill several rooms at the pretty retreat upon the Mole, and of an intrinsic value calling for a special transaction with the Burglary Insurance Company in Cheapside. I cannot say how Raffles obtained all. this information. I only know that it proved correct in each particular. I was not indeed deeply interested before the event, since Raffles assured me that it was "a one-man job," and naturally intended to be the one man himself. It was only at the eleventh hour that our positions were inverted by the wholly unexpected selection of Raffles for the English team in the Second Test Match.
In a flash I saw the chance of my criminal career. It was some years since Raffles had served his country in these encounters; he had never thought to be called upon again, and his gratification was only less than his embarrassment. The match was at Old Trafford, on the third Thursday, Friday, and Saturday in July; the other affair had been all. arranged for the Thursday night, the night of the wedding at East Molesey. It was for Raffles to choose between the two excitements, and for once I helped him to make up his mind. I duly pointed out to him that in Surrey, at all. events,
I never saw a nobler embarrassment than that of this awkward, ungainly, cantankerous man: all. his angles seemed to have been smoothed away: there was something quite human in the flushed, undecided, wistful face. "I never was popular in my life," he said. "I don't want to buy my popularity now. To be perfectly candid with you, Raffles - "
"Don't! I can't stop to hear. They're ringing the bell. But you shouldn't have been angry with me for saying you were a generous good chap, Nasmyth, when you were one all. the time. Good-by, old fellow!"
But Nasmyth detained us a second more. His hesitation was at an end. There was a sudden new light in his face.
"Was I?" he cried. "Then I'll make it two hundred, and damn the odds!"
Raffles was a thoughtful man as we went to our seats. He saw nobody, would acknowledge no remark. Neither did he attend to the cricket for the first half-hour after lunch; instead, he eventually invited me to come for a stroll on the practice ground, where, however, we found two chairs aloof from the fascinating throng.
"I am not often sorry, Bunny, as you know," he began. "But I have been sorry since the interval. I've been sorry for poor old Nipper Nasmyth. Did you see the idea of being popular dawn upon him for the first time in his life?"
"I did; but you had nothing to do with that, my dear man."
Raffles shook his head over me as our eyes met. "I had everything to do with it. I tried to make him tell the meanest lie. I made sure he would, and for that matter he nearly did. Then, at the last moment, he saw how to hedge things with his conscience. And his second hundred will be a real gift."
"You mean under his own name - "
"And with his own free-will. My good Bunny, is it possible you don't know what I did with the hundred we drew from that bank!"
"I knew what you were going to do with it," said I. "I didn't know you had actually got further than the twenty-five you told me you were sending as your own contribution."
Raffles rose abruptly from his chair.
"And you actually thought that came out of his money?"
"Naturally."
"In my name?"
"I thought so."
Raffles stared at me inscrutably for some moments, and for some more at the great white numbers over the grand-stand.
"We may as well have another look at the cricket," said he. "It's difficult to see the board from here, but I believe there's another man out."
A Bad Night
There was to be a certain little wedding in which Raffles and I took a surreptitious interest. The bride-elect was living in some retirement, with a recently widowed mother and an asthmatical brother, in a mellow hermitage on the banks of the Mole. The bridegroom was a prosperous son of the same suburban soil which had nourished both families for generations. The wedding presents were so numerous as to fill several rooms at the pretty retreat upon the Mole, and of an intrinsic value calling for a special transaction with the Burglary Insurance Company in Cheapside. I cannot say how Raffles obtained all. this information. I only know that it proved correct in each particular. I was not indeed deeply interested before the event, since Raffles assured me that it was "a one-man job," and naturally intended to be the one man himself. It was only at the eleventh hour that our positions were inverted by the wholly unexpected selection of Raffles for the English team in the Second Test Match.
In a flash I saw the chance of my criminal career. It was some years since Raffles had served his country in these encounters; he had never thought to be called upon again, and his gratification was only less than his embarrassment. The match was at Old Trafford, on the third Thursday, Friday, and Saturday in July; the other affair had been all. arranged for the Thursday night, the night of the wedding at East Molesey. It was for Raffles to choose between the two excitements, and for once I helped him to make up his mind. I duly pointed out to him that in Surrey, at all. events,