me--making me disbelieve because I could no longer forget. Last
of all came no gem, indeed, but my own revolver from an inner
pocket. And that struck a chord. I suppose I said something--my
hand flew out. I can see Raffles now, as he looked at me once
more with a high arch over each clear eye. I can see him pick
out the cartridges with his quiet, cynical smile, before he would
give me my pistol back again.

"You mayn't believe it, Bunny," said he, "but I never carried a
loaded one before. On the whole I think it gives one confidence.
Yet it would be very awkward if anything went wrong; one might
use it, and that's not the game at all, though I have often
thought that the murderer who has just done the trick must have
great sensations before things get too hot for him. Don't look
so distressed, my dear chap. I've never had those sensations,
and I don't suppose I ever shall."

"But this much you have done before?" said I hoarsely.

"Before? My dear Bunny, you offend me! Did it look like a first
attempt? Of course I have done it before."

"Often?"

"Well--no! Not often enough to destroy the charm, at all events;
never, as a matter of fact, unless I'm cursedly hard up. Did you
hear about the Thimbleby diamonds? Well, that was the last
time--and a poor lot of paste they were. Then there was the
little business of the Dormer house-boat at Henley last year.
That was mine also--such as it was. I've never brought off a