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The Amateur Cracksman by E. W. (Ernest William) Hornung
page 7 of 217 (03%)
"You devil!" I said. "I believe you wanted me to do it!"

"Not quite," was the reply, made with a little start, and a
change of color that came too late. "To tell you the truth,
though, I half thought you meant it, and I was never more
fascinated in my life. I never dreamt you had such stuff in you,
Bunny! No, I'm hanged if I let you go now. And you'd better not
try that game again, for you won't catch me stand and look on a
second time. We must think of some way out of the mess. I had
no idea you were a chap of that sort! There, let me have the
gun."

One of his hands fell kindly on my shoulder, while the other
slipped into my overcoat pocket, and I suffered him to deprive me
of my weapon without a murmur. Nor was this simply because
Raffles had the subtle power of making himself irresistible at
will. He was beyond comparison the most masterful man whom I
have ever known; yet my acquiescence was due to more than the
mere subjection of the weaker nature to the stronger. The forlorn
hope which had brought me to the Albany was turned as by magic
into an almost staggering sense of safety. Raffles would help me
after all! A. J. Raffles would be my friend! It was as though
all the world had come round suddenly to my side; so far
therefore from resisting his action, I caught and clasped his
hand with a fervor as uncontrollable as the frenzy which had
preceded it.

"God bless you!" I cried. "Forgive me for everything. I will
tell you the truth. I DID think you might help me in my
extremity, though I well knew that I had no claim upon you.
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