A Thief in the Night | Page 9

he cried; and in the single second that I stood there, I saw him
fell one officer to the ground, and dart across the lawn with another at
his heels. A third came running up to the window. What could I do but
double back into the house? And there in the hall I met my lost love
face to face.
Till that moment she had not recognized me. I ran to catch her as she
all but fell. And my touch repelled her into life, so that she shook me
off, and stood gasping: "You, of all men! You, of all men!" until I
could bear it no more, but broke again for the study-window. "Not that
way - not that way!" she cried in an agony at that. Her hands were upon
me now. "In there, in there," she whispered, pointing and pulling me to
a mere cupboard under the stairs, where hats and coats were hung; and
it was she who shut the door on me with a sob.
Doors were already opening overhead, voices calling, voices answering,
the alarm running like wildfire from room to room. Soft feet pattered in
the gallery and down the stairs about my very ears. I do not know what
made me put on my own shoes as I heard them, but I think that I was
ready and even longing to walk out and give myself up. I need not say
what and who it was that alone restrained me. I heard her name. I heard
them crying to her as though she had fainted. I recognized the detested
voice of my bete noir, Alick Carruthers, thick as might be expected of
the dissipated dog, yet daring to stutter out her name. And then I heard,
without catching, her low reply; it was in answer to the somewhat stern
questioning of quite another voice; and from what followed I knew that
she had never fainted at all.
"Upstairs, miss, did he? Are you sure?"
I did not hear her answer. I conceive her as simply pointing up the
stairs. In any case, about my very ears once more, there now followed
such a patter and tramp of bare and booted feet as renewed in me a base
fear for my own skin. But voices and feet passed over my head, went
up and up, higher and higher; and I was wondering whether or not to
make a dash for it, when one light pair came running down again, and

in very despair I marched out to meet my preserver, looking as little as
I could like the abject thing I felt.
"Be quick!" she cried in a harsh whisper, and pointed peremptorily to
the porch.
But I stood stubbornly before her, my heart hardened by her hardness,
and perversely indifferent to all else. And as I stood I saw the letter she
had written, in the hand with which she pointed, crushed into a ball.
"Quickly!" She stamped her foot. "Quickly - if you ever cared!"
This in a whisper, without bitterness, without contempt, but with a
sudden wild entreaty that breathed upon the dying embers of my poor
manhood. I drew myself together for the last time in her sight. I turned,
and left her as she wished - for her sake, not for mine. And as I went I
heard her tearing her letter into little pieces, and the little pieces falling
on the floor.
Then I remembered Raffles, and could have killed him for what he had
done. Doubtless by this time he was safe and snug in the Albany: what
did my fate matter to him? Never mind; this should be the end between
him and me as well; it was the end of everything, this dark night's work!
I would go and tell him so. I would jump into a cab and drive there and
then to his accursed rooms. But first I must escape from the trap in
which he had been so ready to leave me. And on the very steps I drew
back in despair. They were searching the shrubberies between the drive
and the road; a policeman's lantern kept flashing in and out among the
laurels, while a young man in evening-clothes directed him from the
gravel sweep. It was this young man whom I must dodge, but at my
first step in the gravel he wheeled round, and it was Raffles himself.
"Hulloa!" he cried. "So you've come up to join the dance as well! Had a
look inside, have you? You'll be better employed in helping to draw the
cover in front here. It's all right, officer - only another gentleman from
the Empress Rooms."
And we made a brave show of assisting in the futile search, until the
arrival