had cabled to him also before leaving Carlsbad. And I could not help
wondering, with a discreditable pang, whether his intercourse with that
honest lad could have bred in Raffles a remorse for his own misdeeds,
such as I myself had often tried, but always failed, to produce.

So we came to the Albany in sober frame, for all our recent levity,
thinking at least no evil for once in our lawless lives. And there was
our good friend Barraclough, the porter, to salute and welcome us in the
courtyard.

"There's a gen'leman writing you a letter upstairs," said he to Raffles.
"It's Mr. Garland, sir, so I took him up."

"Teddy!" cried Raffles, and took the stairs two at a time.

I followed rather heavily. It was not jealousy, but I did feel rather
critical of this mushroom intimacy. So I followed up, feeling that the
evening was spoilt for me--and God knows I was right! Not till my dying
day shall I forget the tableau that awaited me in those familiar rooms. I
see it now as plainly as I see the problem picture of the year, which
lies in wait for one in all the illustrated papers; indeed, it was a
problem picture itself in flesh and blood.

Raffles had opened his door as only Raffles could open doors, with the
boyish thought of giving the other boy a fright; and young Garland had
very naturally started up from the bureau, where he was writing, at the
sudden clap of his own name behind him. But that was the last of his
natural actions. He did not advance to grasp Raffles by the hand; there
was no answering smile of welcome on the fresh young face which used to
remind me of the Phoebus in Guido's Aurora, with its healthy pink and