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

"A relative of mine will tell you if you ask him. He is an
eminent man, and he has promised to speak for me. I would
rather say no more myself."

"But you shall, sir, but you shall! Do you suppose that I
suppose a public-school boy would apply for a berth like this if
something or other hadn't happened? What I want is a gentleman
of sorts, and I don't much care what sort; but you've got to
tell me what did happen, if you don't tell anybody else. Dr.
Theobald, sir, you can go to the devil if you won't take a hint.
This man may do or he may not. You have no more to say to it
till I send him down to tell you one thing or the other. Clear
out, sir, clear out; and if you think you've anything to
complain of, you stick it down in the bill!"

In the mild excitement of our interview the thin voice had
gathered strength, and the last shrill insult was screamed after
the devoted medico, as he retired in such order that I felt
certain he was going to take this trying patient at his word.
The bedroom door closed, then the outer one, and the doctor's
heels went drumming down the common stair. I was alone in the
flat with this highly singular and rather terrible old man.

"And a damned good riddance!" croaked the invalid, raising
himself on one elbow without delay. "I may not have much body
left to boast about, but at least I've got a lost old soul to
call my own. That's why I want a gentleman of sorts about me.
I've been too dependent on that chap. He won't even let me
smoke, and he's been in the flat all day to see I didn't.
You'll find the cigarettes behind the Madonna of the Chair."

It was a steel engraving of the great Raffaelle, and the frame
was tilted from the wall; at a touch a packet of cigarettes
tumbled down from behind.

"Thanks; and now a light."

I struck the match and held it, while the invalid inhaled with
normal lips; and suddenly I sighed. I was irresistibly reminded
of my poor dear old Raffles. A smoke-ring worthy of the great
A. J. was floating upward from the sick man's lips.

"And now take one yourself. I have smoked more poisonous
cigarettes. But even these are not Sullivans!"

I cannot repeat what I said. I have no idea what I did. I only
know--I only knew--that it was A. J. Raffles in the flesh!


II