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"I was going home," he said, "but I can defer my ride a little.

And you can, if you please, rest here."



"Thank you," said Raffles, making a grimace. "I don't care now

about seeing my stepson. I'd rather go home with you."



"Your stepson, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he, is here no longer.

I am master here now."



Raffles opened wide eyes, and gave a long whistle of surprise,

before he said, "Well then, I've no objection. I've had enough walking



from the coach-road. I never was much of a walker, or rider either.

What I like is a smart vehicle and a spirited cob. I was always



a little heavy in the saddle. What a pleasant surprise it must be

to you to see me, old fellow!" he continued, as they turned towards



the house. "You don't say so; but you never took your luck heartily--

you were always thinking of improving the occasion--you'd such a gift



for improving your luck."

Mr. Raffles seemed greatly to enjoy his own wit, and Swung his leg



in a swaggering manner which was rather too much for his companion's

judicious patience.



"If I remember rightly," Mr. Bulstrode observed, with chill anger,

"our acquaintance many years ago had not the sort of intimacy



which you are now assuming, Mr. Raffles. Any services you desire

of me will be the more readily rendered if you will avoid a tone



of familiarity which did not lie in our former intercourse, and can

hardly be warranted by more than twenty years of separation."



"You don't like being called Nick? Why, I always called you

Nick in my heart, and though lost to sight, to memory dear.



By Jove! my feelings have ripened for you like fine old cognac.

I hope you've got some in the house now. Josh filled my flask well



the last time."

Mr. Bulstrode had not yet fully learned that even the desire



for cognac was not stronger in Raffles than the desire to torment,

and that a hint of annoyance always served him as a fresh cue.



But it was at least clear that further objection was useless,

and Mr. Bulstrode, in giving orders to the housekeeper for the



accommodation of the guest, had a resolute air of quietude.

There was the comfort of thinking that this housekeeper had been in



the service of Rigg also, and might accept the idea that Mr. Bulstrode

entertained Raffles merely as a friend of her former master.



When there was food and drink spread before his visitor in the

wainscoted parlor, and no witness in the room, Mr. Bulstrode said--



"Your habits and mine are so different, Mr. Raffles, that we can

hardly enjoy each other's society. The wisest plan for both of us



will therefore be to part as soon as possible. Since you say

that you wished to meet me, you probably considered that you had



some business to transact with me. But under the circumstances I

will invite you to remain here for the night, and I will myself



ride over here early to-morrow morning--before breakfast, in fact,

when I can receive any Communication you have to make to me."



"With all my heart," said Raffles; "this is a comfortable place--

a little dull for a continuance; but I can put up with it for



a night, with this good liquor and the prospect of seeing you again

in the morning. You're a much better host than my stepson was;



but Josh owed me a bit of a grudge for marrying his mother;

and between you and me there was never anything but kindness."



Mr. Bulstrode, hoping that the peculiarmixture of joviality

and sneering in Raffles' manner was a good deal the effect



of drink, had determined to wait till he was quite sober before

he spent more words upon him. But he rode home with a terribly



lucid vision of the difficulty there would be in arranging

any result that could be permanently counted on with this man.



It was inevitable that he should wish to get rid of John Raffles,




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