"Hornung, E W - A J Raffles 02 - Further Adventures of the Amateur Cracksman (The Black Mask)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hornung E. W)

the most calculating are capable at times; the morning papers
with the early cup of tea, this advertisement seen by chance,
and the rest upon the spur of a guilty conscience.

Well, I must see it for myself, and the sooner the better,
though work pressed. I was writing a series of articles upon
prison life, and had my nib into the whole System; a literary
and philanthropical daily was parading my "charges," the graver
ones with the more gusto; and the terms, if unhandsome for
creative work, were temporary wealth to me. It so happened that
my first check had just arrived by the eight o'clock post; and
my position should be appreciated when I say that I had to cash
it to obtain a Daily Mail.

Of the advertisement itself, what is to be said? It should speak
for itself if I could find it, but I cannot, and only remember
that it was a "male nurse and constant attendant" that was
"wanted for an elderly gentleman in feeble health." A male
nurse! An absurd tag was appended, offering "liberal salary to
University or public-school man"; and of a sudden I saw that I
should get this thing if I applied for it. What other
"University or public-school man" would dream of doing so? Was
any other in such straits as I? And then my relenting relative;
he not only promised to speak for me, but was the very man to do
so. Could any recommendation compete with his in the matter of
a male nurse? And need the duties of such be necessarily
loathsome and repellent? Certainly the surroundings would be
better than those of my common lodging-house and own particular
garret; and the food; and every other condition of life that I
could think of on my way back to that unsavory asylum. So I
dived into a pawnbroker's shop, where I was a stranger only
upon my present errand, and within the hour was airing a decent
if antiquated suit, but little corrupted by the pawnbroker's
moth, and a new straw hat, on the top of a tram.

The address given in the advertisement was that of a flat at
Earl's Court, which cost me a cross-country journey, finishing
with the District Railway and a seven minutes' walk. It was now
past mid-day, and the tarry wood-pavement was good to smell as
I strode up the Earl's Court Road. It was great to walk the
civilized world again. Here were men with coats on their backs,
and ladies in gloves. My only fear was lest I might run up
against one or other whom I had known of old. But it was my
lucky day. I felt it in my bones. I was going to get this
berth; and sometimes I should be able to smell the wood-pavement
on the old boy's errands; perhaps he would insist on skimming
over it in his bath-chair, with me behind.

I felt quite nervous when I reached the flats. They were a small
pile in a side street, and I pitied the doctor whose plate I saw