a thief in the night-第34部分

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r　feet。　　You　must　not　imagine　you　are　the　only　one　who　would　have　served　and　followed　him　as　you　did。　When　he　told　me　it　was　all。　a　game　to　him；　and　the　one　game　he　knew　that　was　always　exciting；　always　full　of　danger　and　of　drama；　I　could　just　then　have　found　it　in　my　heart　to　try　the　game　myself！　Not　that　he　treated　me　to　any　ingenious　sophistries　or　paradoxical　perversities。　　It　was　just　his　natural　charm　and　humor；　and　a　touch　of　sadness　with　it　all。；　that　appealed　to　something　deeper　than　one's　reason　and　one's　sense　of　right。　　Glamour；　I　suppose；　is　the　word。　　Yet　there　was　far　more　in　him　than　that。　　There　were　depths；　which　called　to　depths；　and　you　will　not　misunderstand　me　when　I　say　I　think　it　touched　him　that　a　woman　should　listen　to　him　as　I　did；　and　in　such　circumstances。　　I　know　that　it　touched　me　to　think　of　such　a　life　so　spent；　and　that　I　came　to　myself　and　implored　him　to　give　it　all。　up。　　I　don't　think　I　went　on　my　knees　over　it。　　But　I　am　afraid　I　did　cry；　and　that　was　the　end。　　He　pretended　not　to　notice　anything；　and　then　in　an　instant　he　froze　everything　with　a　flippancy　which　jarred　horribly　at　the　time；　but　has　ever　since　touched　me　more　than　all。　the　rest。　　I　remember　that　I　wanted　to　shake　hands　at　the　end。　　But　Mr。　Raffles　only　shook　his　head；　and　for　one　instant　his　face　was　as　sad　as　it　was　gallant　and　gay　all。　the　rest　of　the　time。　　Then　he　went　as　he　had　come；　in　his　own　dreadful　way；　and　not　a　soul　in　the　house　knew　that　he　had　been。　　And　even　you　were　never　told！

〃I　didn't　mean　to　write　all。　this　about　your　own　friend；　whom　you　knew　so　much　better　yourself；　yet　you　see　that　even　you　did　not　know　how　nobly　he　tried　to　undo　the　wrong　he　had　done　you；　and　now　I　think　I　know　why　he　kept　it　to　himself。　　It　is　fearfully　late　　　…　or　early　…　I　seem　to　have　been　writing　all。　night　…　and　I　will　explain　the　matter　in　the　fewest　words。　　I　promised　Mr。　Raffles　that　I　would　write　to　you；　Harry；　and　see　you　if　I　could。　　Well；　I　did　write；　and　I　did　mean　to　see　you；　but　I　never　had　an　answer　to　what　I　wrote。　　It　was　only　one　line；　and　I　have　long　known　you　never　received　it。　　I　could　not　bring　myself　to　write　more；　and　even　those　few　words　were　merely　slipped　into　one　of　the　books　which　you　had　given　me。　　Years　afterward　these　books；　with　my　name　in　them；　must　have　been　found　in　your　rooms；　at　any　rate　they　were　returned　to　me　by　somebody；　and　you　could　never　have　opened　them；　for　there　was　my　line　where　I　had　left　it。　　Of　course　you　had　never　seen　it；　and　that　was　all。　my　fault。　　But　it　was　too　late　to　write　again。　　Mr。　Raffles　was　supposed　to　have　been　drowned；　and　everything　was　known　about　you　both。　　But　I　still　kept　my　own　independent　knowledge　to　myself；　to　this　day；　no　one　else　knows　that　you　were　one　of　the　two　in　Palace　Gardens；　and　I　still　blame　myself　more　than　you　may　think　for　nearly　everything　that　has　happened　since。

〃You　said　yesterday　that　your　going　to　the　war　and　getting　wounded　wiped　out　nothing　that　had　gone　before。　　I　hope　you　are　not　growing　morbid　about　the　past。　　It　is　not　for　me　to　condone　it；　and　　yet　I　know　that　Mr。　Raffles　was　what　he　was　because　he　loved　danger　and　adventure；　and　that　you　were　what　you　were　because　you　loved　Mr。　Raffles。　　But；　even　admitting　it　was　all。　as　bad　as　bad　could　be；　he　is　dead；　and　you　are　punished。　　The　world　forgives；　if　it　does　not　forget。　　You　are　young　enough　to　live　everything　down。　　Your　part　in　the　war　will　help　you　in　more　ways　than　one。　　You　were　always　fond　of　writing。　　You　have　now　enough　to　write　about　for　a　literary　lifetime。　　You　must　make　a　new　name　for　yourself。　　You　must　Harry；　and　you　will！

〃I　suppose　you　know　that　my　aunt；　Lady　Melrose；　died　some　years　ago？　She　was　the　best　friend　I　had　in　the　world；　and　it　is　thanks　to　her　that　I　am　living　my　own　life　now　in　the　one　way　after　my　own　heart。　This　is　a　new　block　of　flats；　one　of　those　where　they　do　everything　for　you；　and　though　mine　is　tiny；　it　is　more　than　all。　I　shall　ever　want。　　One　does　just　exactly　what　one　likes　…　and　you　must　blame　that　habit　for　all。　that　is　least　conventional　in　what　I　have　said。　Yet　I　should　like　you　to　understand　why　it　is　that　I　have　said　so　much；　and；　indeed；　left　nothing　unsaid。　　It　is　because　I　want　never　to　have　to　say　or　hear　another　word　about　anything　that　is　past　and　over。　　You　may　answer　that　I　run　no　risk！　　Nevertheless；　if　you　did　care　to　come　and　see　me　some　day　as　an　old　friend；　we　might　find　one　or　two　new　points　of　contact；　for　I　am　rather　trying　to　write　myself！　　You　might　almost　guess　as　much　from　this　letter；　it　is　long　enough　for　anything；　but；　Harry；　if　it　makes　you　realize　that　one　of　your　oldest　friends　is　glad　to　have　seen　you；　and　will　be　gladder　still　to　see　you　again；　and　to　talk　of　anything　and　everything　except　the　past；　I　shall　cease　to　be　ashamed　even　of　its　length！

〃And　so　good…by　for　the　present　from　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃____〃



I　omit　her　name　and　nothing　else。　　Did　I　not　say　in　the　beginning　that　it　should　never　be　sullied　by　association　with　mine？　　And　yet　…　and　yet　…　even　as　I　write　I　have　a　hope　in　my　heart　of　hearts　which　is　not　quite　consistent　with　that　sentiment。　　It　is　as　faint　a　hope　as　man　ever　had；　and　yet　its　audacity　makes　the　pen　tremble　in　my　fingers。　　But；　if　it　be　ever　realized；　I　shall　owe　more　than　I　could　deserve　in　a　century　of　atonement　to　one　who　atoned　more　nobly　than　I　ever　can。　　And　to　think　that　to　the　end　I　never　heard　one　word　of　it　from　Raffles！







End