'In case the worst comes to the worst,' murmured Raffles in sly commentary, and with a sidelong glance at me.
'What's that? Don't you believe me? I'll 'and it over this minute, if only you'll take these damned things off my wrists. There's no excuse for 'em now, you know!'
Raffles shook his head.
'I'd rather not trust myself within reach of your raw fists yet, prisoner. But my marshal will produce the note from your person if it's there.'
It was there, in a swollen pocket-book which I replaced otherwise intact while Raffles compared the signature on the note of hand with samples which he had brought with him for the purpose.
'It's genuine enough,' said Levy, with a sudden snarl and a lethal look that I intercepted at close quarters.
'So I perceive,' said Raffles. 'And now I require an equally genuine signature to this little document which is also a part of your bond.'
The little document turned out to be a veritable Deed, engrossed on parchment, embossed with a ten-shilling stamp, and duly calling itself an INDENTURE, in fourteenth century capitals. So much I saw as I held it up for the prisoner to read over. The illegally legal instrument is still in existence, with its unpunctuated jargon about 'hereditaments' and 'fee simple,' its 'and whereas the said Daniel Levy' in every other line, and its eventual plain provision for 'the said sum of ?15,000 to remain charged upon the security of the hereditaments in the said recited Indenture … until the expiration of one year computed from—' that summer's day in that empty tower! The whole thing had been properly and innocently prepared by old Mother Hubbard, the 'little solicitor' whom Raffles had mentioned as having been in our house at school, from a copy of the original mortgage deed supplied in equal innocence by Mr. Garland. I sometimes wonder what those worthy citizens would have said, if they had dreamt for a moment under what conditions of acute duress their deed was to be signed!
Signed it was, however, and with less demur than might have been expected of so inveterate a fighter as Dan Levy. But his one remaining course was obviously the line of least resistance; no other would square with his ingenious repudiation of the charge of treachery to Raffles, much less with his repeated protestations that he had always intended to perform his part of their agreement. It was to his immediate interest to convince us of his good faith, and up to this point he might well have thought he had succeeded in so doing. Raffles had concealed his full knowledge of the creature's duplicity, had enjoyed leading him on from lie to lie, and I had enjoyed listening almost as much as I now delighted in the dilemma in which Levy had landed himself; for either he must sign and look pleasant, or else abandon his innocent posture altogether; and so he looked as pleasant as he could, and signed in his handcuffs, with but the shadow of a fight for their immediate removal.
'And now,' said Levy, when I had duly witnessed his signature, 'I think I've about earned that little drop of my own champagne.'
'Not quite yet,' replied Raffles, in a tone like thin ice. 'We are only at the point we should have reached the moment I arrived at your house last night; you have now done under compulsion what you had agreed to do of your own free will then.'
Levy lay back in the bunk, plunged in billows of incongruous bunting, with fallen jaw and fiery eyes, an equal blend of anger and alarm. 'But I told you I wasn't myself last night,' he whined. 'I've said I was very sorry for all I done, but can't 'ardly remember doing. I say it again from the bottom of my 'eart.'
'I've no doubt you do,' said Raffles. 'But what you did after our arrival was nothing to what you had already done; it was only the last of those acts of treachery for which you are still on your trial—prisoner in the bunk!'
'But I thought I'd explained all the rest?' cried the prisoner, in a palsy of impotent rage and disappointment.
'You have,' said Raffles, 'in the sense of making your perfidy even plainer than it was before. Come, Mr. Levy! I know every move you've made, and the game's been up longer than you think; you won't score a point by telling lies that contradict each other and aggravate your guilt. Have you nothing better to say why the sentence of the court should not be passed upon you?'
A sullen silence was broken by a more precise and staccato repetition of the question. And then to my amazement, I beheld the gross lower lip of Levy actually trembling, and a distressing flicker of the inflamed eyelids.
'I felt you'd swindled me,' he quavered out 'And I thought—I'd swindle—you.'
'Bravo!' cried Raffles. 'That's the first honest thing you've said; let me tell you, for your encouragement, that it reduces your punishment by twenty-five per cent. You will, nevertheless, pay a fine of fifteen hundred pounds for your latest little effort in low treason.'
Though not unprepared for some such ultimatum, I must own I heard it with dismay. On all sorts of grounds, some of them as unworthy as itself, this last demand failed to meet with my approval; and I determined to expostulate with Raffles before it was too late. Meanwhile I hid my feelings as best I could, and admired the spirit with which Dan Levy expressed his.
'I'll see you damned first!' he cried. 'It's blackmail!'
'Guineas,' said Raffles, 'for contempt of court.'
And more to my surprise than ever, not a little indeed to my secret disappointment, our captive speedily collapsed again, whimpering, moaning, gnashing his teeth, and clutching at the Red Ensign, with closed eyes and distorted face, so much as though he were about to have a fit that I caught up the half-bottle of champagne, and began removing the wire at a nod from Raffles.
'Don't cut the string just yet,' he added, however, with an eye on Levy—who instantly opened his.
'I'll pay up!' he whispered, feebly yet eagerly. 'It serves me right. I promise I'll pay up!'
'Good!' said Raffles. 'Here's your own cheque-book from your own room, and here's my fountain pen.'
'You won't take my word?'
'It's quite enough to have to take your cheque; it should have been hard cash.'
'So it shall be, Raffles, if you come up with me to my office!'
'I dare say.'
'To my bank, then!'
'I prefer to go alone. You will kindly make it an open cheque payable to bearer.'
The fountain pen was poised over the chequebook, but only because I had placed it in Levy's fingers, and was holding the cheque-book under them.
'And what if I refuse?' he demanded, with a last flash of his native spirit.
'We shall say good-bye, and give you until to-night.'
'All day to call for help in!' muttered Levy, all but to himself.
'Do you happen to know where you are?' Raffles asked him.
'No, but I can find out.'
'If you knew already you would also know that you might call till you were black in the face; but to keep you in blissful ignorance you will be bound a good deal more securely than you are at present. And to spare your poor voice you will also be very thoroughly gagged.'
Levy took remarkably little notice of either threat or gibe.
'And if I give in and sign?' said he, after a pause.
'You will remain exactly as you are, with one of us to keep you company, while the other goes up to town to cash your cheque. You can't expect me to give you a chance of stopping it, you know.'
This, again, struck me as a hard condition, if only prudent when one came to think of it from our point of view; still, it took even me by surprise, and I expected Levy to fling away the pen in disgust. He balanced it, however, as though also weighing the two alternatives very carefully in his mind, and during his deliberations his bloodshot eyes wandered from Raffles to me and back again to Raffles. In a word, the latest prospect appeared to disturb Mr. Levy less than, for obvious reasons, it did me. Certainly for him it was the lesser of the two evils, and as such he seemed to accept it when he finally wrote out the cheque for fifteen hundred guineas (Raffles insisting on these), and signed it firmly before sinking back as though exhausted by the effort.
Raffles was as good as his word about the champagne now: dram by dram he poured the whole pint into the cup belonging to his flask, and dram by dram our prisoner tossed it off, but with closed eyes, like a delirious invalid, and towards the end, with a head so heavy that Raffles had to raise it from the rolled flag, though foul talons still came twitching out for more. It was an unlovely process, I will confess; but what was a pint, as Raffles said? At any
