he dangers of
his own walks abroad; and when to these injuries he added the insult
of a patronizing compliment on my late disguise, I again made no
reply.

"What's the good of your coming with me?" he asked, when I had
followed him across the main stream of Notting Hill.

"We may as well sink or swim together," I answered sullenly.

"Yes? Well, I'm going to swim into the provinces, have a shave on the
way, buy a new kit piecemeal, including a cricket-bag (which I really
want), and come limping back to the Albany with the same old strain in
my bowling leg. I needn't add that I have been playing country-house
cricket for the last month under an alias; it's the only decent way to
do it when one's county has need of one. That's my itinerary, Bunny,
but I really can't see why you should come with me."

"We may as well swing together!" I growled.

"As you will, my dear fellow," replied Raffles. "But I begin to dread
your company on the drop!"

I shall hold my pen on that provincial tour. Not that I joined Raffles
in any of the little enterprises with which he beguiled the breaks in
our journey; our last deed in London was far too great a weight upon
my soul. I could see that gallant officer in his chair, see him at
every hour of the day and night, now with his indomitable eyes meeting
mine ferociously, now a stark outline underneath a sheet. The vision
darkened my day and gave me sleepless nights. I was with our victim in
all his agony; my mind would only leave him for that gallows of which
Raffles had said true things in jest. No, I could not face so vile a
death lightly, but I could meet it, somehow, better than I could
endure a guilty suspense. In the watches of the second night I made up
my mind to meet it half-way, that very morning, while still there
might be time to save the life that we had left in jeopardy. And I got
up early to tell Raffles of my resolve.

His room in the hotel where we were staying was littered with clothes
and luggage new enough for any bridegroom; I lifted the locked
cricket-bag, and found it heavier than a cricket-bag has any right to
be. But in the bed Raffles was sleeping like an infant, his shaven
self once more. And when I shook him he awoke with a smile.

"Going to confess, eh, Bunny? Well, wait a bit; the local police won't
thank you for knocking them up at this hour. And I bought a late
edition which you ought to see; that must be it on the floor. You have
a look in the stop-pre