E. W. Hornung

E. W. Hornung

Summary

Portrait of E. W. Hornung E. W. Hornung,  Raffles — The Wrong House (1906)

“ A redfaced barrel of a boy did all the holding, one hand round the wrist, the other palm to palm, and his knees braced up against the panel. Another was rendering ostentatious but ineffectual aid, and three or four others danced about in their pyjamas. After all, they were not more than four to one. I had raised my voice, so that Raffles might hear me and take heart, and now I raised it again. Yet to this day I cannot account for my inspiration, that proved nothing less.
"Don't talk so loud," they were crying below their breath; "don't wake 'em upstairs, this is our show."
”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of E. W. Hornung E. W. Hornung,  Raffles — The Wrong House (1906)

“ But it's the devil of a hill!"
"And here they come!"
"Let them," said Raffles, and brandished his electric torch, our only light as yet.
A hill seems endless in the dark, for you cannot see the end, and with the patter of bare feet gaining on us, I thought this one could have no end at all. Of course the boys could charge up it quicker than we could pedal, but I even heard the voice of their stout instructor growing louder through the mist.
”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of E. W. Hornung E. W. Hornung,  Raffles — The Wrong House (1906)

“ The boys were now all back in their class-room, I think entirely for the sake of warmth; but Raffles and I were in knickerbockers and Norfolk jackets, and very naturally remained without, while the army-crammer (who wore bedroom slippers) stood on the threshold, with an eye each way. The more I saw of the man the better I liked and the more I feared him. ”
Source: Wikisource

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