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E. W. Hornung: Raffles: Further Adventures of the Amateur Cracksman3. THE FATE OF FAUSTINA (continued)"I half thought they were after me before," said he. "That was why I made you look. I daren't take a proper look myself, but what a jest if they were! What a jest!" "Do you mean the police?" said I. "The police! Bunny, do you know them and me so little that you can look me in the face and ask such a question? My boy, I'm dead to them--off their books--a good deal deader than being off the hooks! Why, if I went to Scotland Yard this minute, to give myself up, they'd chuck me out for a harmless lunatic. No, I fear an enemy nowadays, and I go in terror of the sometime friend, but I have the utmost confidence in the dear police." "Then whom do you mean?" "The Camorra!" I repeated the word with a different intonation. Not that I had never heard of that most powerful and sinister of secret societies; but I failed to see on what grounds Raffles should jump to the conclusion that these everyday organ-grinders belonged to it. "It was one of Corbucci's threats," said he. "If I killed him the Camorra would certainly kill me; he kept on telling me so; it was like his cunning not to say that he would put them on my tracks whether or no." "He is probably a member himself!" "Obviously, from what he said." "But why on earth should you think that these fellows are?" I demanded, as that brazen voice came rasping through a second verse. "I don't think. It was only an idea. That thing is so thoroughly Neapolitan, and I never heard it on a London organ before. Then again, what should bring them back here?" I peeped through the blind in my turn; and, to be sure, there was the fellow with the blue chin and the white teeth watching our windows, and ours only, as he bawled. This is page 56 of 162. [Mark this Page]
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