We had to get out at Willesden Junction
and walk on through the streets into fairly open country that
happened to be quite new to me. I could never find the house
again. I remember, however, that we were on a dark footpath
between woods and fields when the clocks began striking twelve.
"Surely," said I, "we shall find him in bed and asleep?"
"I hope we do," said Raffles grimly.
"Then you mean to break in?"
"What else did you think?"
I had not thought about it at all; the ultimate crime had
monopolized my mind. Beside it burglary was a bagatelle, but one
to deprecate none the less. I saw obvious objections: the man
was au fait with cracksmen and their ways: he would certainly
have firearms, and might be the first to use them.
"I could wish nothing better," said Raffles. "Then it will be man
to man, and devil take the worst shot. You don't suppose I
prefer foul play to fair, do you? But die he must, by one or the
other, or it's a long stretch for you and me."
"Better that than this!"
"Then stay where you are, my good fellow. I told you I didn't
want you; and this is the house. So good-night."
I could see no house at all, only the angle of a high wall rising
solitary in the night, with the starlight glittering on
battlements of broken glass; and in the wall a tall green gate,
bristling with spikes, and showing a front for battering-rams in
the feeble rays an outlying lamp-post cast across the new-made
road.
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