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 halfway, 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-press column, Bunny."

I found the place with a sunken heart, and this is what I read:

WEST-END OUTRAGE