Comfort! It was wine in every vein, for I knew that Raffles meant what he said, and with his eyes I soon saw myself in braver colors. I ceased to blush for the vacillations of the night, since he condoned them. I could even see that I had behaved with a measure of decency, in a truly trying situation, now that Raffles seemed to think so. He had changed my whole view of his proceedings and my own, in every incident of the night but one. There was one thing, however, which he might forgive me, but which I felt that I could forgive neither Raffles nor myself. And that was the contused scalp wound over which I shuddered in the train. "And to think that I did that," I groaned, "and that you laid yourself open to it, and that we have neither of us got another thing to show for our night's work! That poor chap said it was as bad a night as he had ever had in his life; but I call it the very worst that you and I ever had in ours." Raffles was smiling under the double lamps of the first-class compartment that we had to ourselves. "I wouldn't say that, Bunny. We have done worse." "Do you mean to tell me that you did anything at all?" "My dear Bunny," replied Raffles, "you should remember how long I had been maturing this felonious little plan, what a blow it was to me to have to turn it over to you, and how far I had travelled to see that you did it and yourself as well as might be. You know what I did see, and how well I understood. I tell you again that I should have done the same thing myself, in your place. But I was not in your place, Bunny. My hands were not tied like yours. Unfortunately, most of the jewels have gone on the honeymoon with the happy pair; but these emerald links are all right, and I don't know what the bride was doing to leave this diamond comb behind. Here, too, is the old silver skewer I've been wanting for years--they make the most charming paper-knives in the world--and this gold cigarette-case will just do for your smaller Sullivans." Nor were these the only pretty things that Raffles set out in twinkling array upon the opposite cushions. But I do not pretend that this was one of our heavy hauls, or deny that its chief interest still resides in the score of the Second Test Match of that Australian tour. A Trap to Catch a Cracksman I was just putting out my light when the telephone rang a furious tocsin in the next room. I flounced out of bed more asleep than awake; in another minute I should have been past ringing up. It was one o'clock in the morning, and I had been dining with Swigger Morrison at his club. "Hulloa!" "That you, Bunny?" "Yes--are you Raffles?" "What's left of me! Bunny, I want you--quick." And even over the wire his voice was faint with anxiety and apprehension. "What on earth has happened?" "Don't ask! You never know----" "I'll come at once. Are you there, Raffles?" "What's that?" "Are you there, man?" "Ye--e--es." "At the Albany?" "No, no; at Maguire's."