Second Test Match.

In a flash I saw the chance of my criminal career. It was some years
since Raffles had served his country in these encounters; he had never
thought to be called upon again, and his gratification was only less
than his embarrassment. The match was at Old Trafford, on the third
Thursday, Friday, and Saturday in July; the other affair had been all
arranged for the Thursday night, the night of the wedding at East
Molesey. It was for Raffles to choose between the two excitements, and
for once I helped him to make up his mind. I duly pointed out to him
that in Surrey, at all events, I was quite capable of taking his
place. Nay, more, I insisted at once on my prescriptive right and on
his patriotic obligation in the matter. In the country's name and in
my own, I implored him to give it and me a chance; and for once, as I
say, my arguments prevailed. Raffles sent his telegram--it was the day
before the match. We then rushed down to Esher, and over every inch of
the ground by that characteristically circuitous route which he
enjoined on me for the next night. And at six in the evening I was
receiving the last of my many instructions through a window of the
restaurant car.

"Only promise me not to take a revolver," said Raffles in a whisper.
"Here are my keys; there's an old life-preserver somewhere in the
bureau; take that, if you like--though what you take I rather fear you
are the chap to use!"

"Then the rope be round my own neck!" I whispered back. "Whatever else
I may do, Raffles, I shan't give _you_ away; and you'll find I do
better than you think, and am worth trusting with a little more to do,
or I'll know the reason why!"

And I meant to know it, as he was borne out of Euston with raised
eyebrows, and I turned grimly on my heel. I saw his fears for me; and
nothing could have made me more fearless for myself. Raffles had been
wrong about me all these years; now was my chance to set him right. It
was galling to feel that he had no confidence in my coolness or my
nerve, when neither had ever failed him at a pinch. I had been loyal
to him through rough and smooth. In many an ugly corner I had stood as
firm as Raffles himself. I was his right hand, and yet he never
hesitated to make me his catspaw. This time, at all events, I should
be neither one nor the other; this time I was the understudy playing
lead at last; and I wish I could think that Raffles ever realized with
what gusto I threw myself into