Speaker 1: The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton. It is years since
the incidents of which I speak took place, and yet
it is with diffidence that I allude to them. For
a long time, even with the utmost discretion and reticence,
it would have been impossible to make the facts public.
But now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach
of human law, and with due suppression, the story may
be told in such fashion as to injure no one.
It records an absolutely unique experience in the career, both
of mister Sherlock Holmes and of myself. The reader will
excuse me if I concealed the date or any other
fact by which he might trace the actual occurrence. We
had been out for one of our evening rambles Homes
and I and had returned about six o'clock on a cold,
frosty winter's evening. As Holmes turned up the lamp, the
light fell upon a card on the table. He glanced
at it, and then, with an ejaculation of disgusted, threw
it on the floor. I picked it up and read,
Charles Augustus Milverton Appledore Towers Hampstead Agent. Who is he?
I asked the worst man in London. Holmes answered, as
he sat down and stretched his legs before the fire.
He is anything on the back of the card. I
turned it over. We'll call at six thirty see a
m I read hum he's about you. Do you feel
a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson? When you stand before the
serpents in the zoo and see the slithery, gliding, venomous
creatures with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces, Well,
that's how Milverton impresses me. I've had to do with
fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them
never gave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow.
And yet I can't get out of doing business with him. Indeed,
he's here at my invitation. But who is he? I'll
tell you, Watson. He is the king of all the blackmailers.
Heaven help the man, and still more the woman whose
secret and reputation come into the power of Milverton. With
a smiling face and a heart of marble, he will
squeeze and squeeze until he has drained them dry. The
fellow is a genius in his way, and would have
made his mark in some more savory trade. His method
is as follows. He allows it to be known that
he is prepared to pay very high sums for letters
which compromise people of wealth and position. He receives these
wares not only from treacherous valets or maids, but frequently
from genteel ruffians who have gained the confidence and affection
of trusting women. He deals with no niggard hand. I
happen to know that he paid seven hundred pounds to
a footman for a note two lines in length, and
that the ruin of a noble family was the result.
Everything which is in the market goes to Milverton. And
there are hundreds in this great city who turn white
at his name. No one knows where his grip may fall,
for he is far too rich and far too cunning
to work from hand to mouth. He will hold a
card back for years in order to play it at
the moment when the stake is best worth winning. I've
said that he is the worst man in London, and
I would ask you how could one compare the ruffian who,
in hot blood bludgeons his mate with this man who
methodically and it is leisure tortures the soul and wrings
the nerves in order to add to his already swollen
money bags. I had seldom heard my friends speak with
such intensity of feeling, But surely, said I, the fellow
must be within the grasp of the law. Technically, no doubt,
but practically not. What would it profit a woman, for example,
to get him a few months imprisonment, if her own
ruin must immediately follow his victims, dare not hit back?
If ever he blackmailed an innocent person, then indeed we
should have him. But he is as cunning as the
evil one. No, no, we must find other ways to
fight him. And why is he here? Because an illustrious
client has placed her piteous case in my hands. It
is the lady Eva Blackwell, the most beautiful debutante of
last season. She is to be married in a fortnight
to the Earl of Dovercourt. This fiend has several imprudent
letters imprudent Watson, nothing worse, which were written to an
impecunious young squire in the country, they would suffice to
break off the match. Milverton will send the letters to
the Earl unless a large sum of money is paid him.
I have been commissioned to meet him, and to make
the best terms I can. At that instant there was
a clatter and the rattle in the street below. Looking down,
I saw a stately carriage and pair the brilliant lamps
gleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts. A
footman opened the door, and a small, stout man in
a shaggy Astrakhan overcoat descended. A minute later he was
in the room. Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty,
with a large intellectual head, a round, plump, hairless face,
a perpetual frozen smile, and two keen gray eyes which
gleamed brightly from behind broad gold rimmed glasses. There was
something of mister Pickwick's benevolence in his appearance, marred only
by the insincerity of the fixed smile and by the
hard glitter of those restless and penetrating eyes. His voice
was as smooth and suave as his countenance, as he
advanced with a plump little hand extended, murmuring his regret
for having missed us at his first visit. Holmes disregarded
the outstretched hand and looked at him with a face
of granite. Milverton's smile broadened. He shrugged his shoulders, removed
his overcoat, folded it with great deliberation over the back
of a chair, and then took a seat. This gentleman
said he with a wave in my direction. Is it discreet?
Is it right? Dr Watson is my friend and partner.
Very good, mister Holmes. It is only in your client's
interests that I protested. The matter is so very delicate.
Dr Watson has already heard of it. Then we can
proceed to business. Say that your acting for lady Eva,
has she empowered you to accept my terms? What are
your terms? Seven thousand pounds and the alternative? My dear sir,
it is painful for me to discuss it, but if
the money is not paid on the fourteenth, there certainly
will be no marriage on the eighteenth. His insufferable smile
was more complaisant than ever. Holmes thought, for a while,
you appear to me, he said, at last, to be
taking matters too much. For granted, I am, of course
familiar with the contents of these letters. My client will
certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her
to tell her future husband the whole story and to
trust to his generosity. Milverton chuckled, You evidently do not
know the Earl, said he. From the baffled look upon
her Holmes's face, I could see clearly that he did.
What harm is there in the letters? He asked? They
are sprightly, very sprightly. Milverton answered, the lady was a
charming correspondent. But I can assure you that the Earl
of Dovercourt would fail to appreciate them. However, since you
think otherwise, we'll let it rest at that. It is
purely a matter of business. If you think that it
is in the best interests of your client that these
letters should be placed in the hands of the Earl,
then you would indeed be foolish to pay so large
a sum of money to regain them. He rose and
seized his Astrakhan coat. Holmes was gray with anger and mortification.
Wait a little, he said, you go too fast. We
should certainly make every effort to avoid scandal in so
delicate a matter. Milverton relapsed into his chair. I was
sure that you would see it in that light, he purred.
At the same time, Holmes continued, Lady Eva is not
a wealthy woman. I assure you that two thousand pounds
would be a drain upon her resources, and that the
sum you name is utterly beyond her power. I beg therefore,
that you will moderate your demands, and that you will
return the letters at the price I indicate, which is,
I assure you the highest that you can get. Milverton's
smile broadened and his eyes twinkled humorously. I am aware
that what you say is true about the lady's resources,
said he. At the same time, you must admit that
the occasion of a lady's marriage is a very suitable
time for her friends and relatives to make some little
effort upon her behalf. They may hesitate as to an
acceptable wedding present. Let me assure them that this little
bundle of letters would give more joy than all the
candelarbra and butter dishes in London. It is impossible, said Holmes.
Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate, cried Milverton, taking out
a bulky pocket book. I cannot help thinking that ladies
are ill advised in not making an effort. Look at this.
He held up a little note with a coat of
arms upon the envelope that belongs to well, perhaps it
is hardly fair to tell the name until to morrow morning.
But at that time it will be in the hands
of the lady's husband, and all because she will not
find a beggarly sum which she could get by turning
her diamonds into paste. It is such a pity. Now
you remember the sudden end of the engagement between the
honorable Miss Miles and Colonel Dorking. Only two days before
the wedding, there was a paragraph in the Morning Post
to say that it was all off, and why it
is almost incredible. But the absurd sum of twelve hundred
pounds would have settled the whole question. Is it not pitiful?
And here I find you a man of sense, boggling
about terms when your client's future and honor are at stake.
You surprise me, mister Holmes. What I say is true,
Holmes answered, the money cannot be found. Surely it is
better for you to take the substantial sum which I offer,
and to ruin this woman's career, which can profit you
in no way. There you make a mistake, mister Holmes.
An exposure would profit me indirectly to a considerable extent.
I have eight or ten similar cases, maturing if it
was circulated among them that I had made a severe
example of the lady Eva, I should find all of
them much more open to reason. You see my point?
Holmes sprang from his chair. Get behind him, Watson, don't
let him out now, sir, let us see the contents
of that note book. Milberton had glided as quickly as
a rat to the side of the room and stood
with his back against the wall. Mister Holmes, Mister Holmes,
he said, turning the front of his coat and exhibiting
the butt of a large revolver, which projected from the
inside pocket. I have been expecting you to do something original.
This has been done so often, and what good has
ever come from it. I assure you that I am
armed to the teeth, and I am perfectly prepared to
use my weapons, knowing that the law will support me. Besides,
your supposition that I would bring the letters here in
a note book is entirely mistaken. I would do nothing
so foolish. And now, gentlemen, I have one or two
little interviews this evening, and it is a long drive
to Hampstead. He stepped forward, took up his coat, laid
his hand on his revolver and turned to the door.
I picked up a chair, but Holmes shook his head,
and I laid it down again with bow, a smile
and a twinkle. Milverton was out of the room, and
a few moments after we heard the slam of the
carriage door and the rattle of the wheels as he
drove away. Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands
buried deep in his trouser pockets, his chin sunk upon
his breast, his eyes fixed upon the glowing embers. For
half an hour. He was silent and still. Then, with
the gesture of a man who has taken his decision,
he sprang to his feet and passed into his bedroom.
A little later, a rakish young workman with a goatey
beard and a swagger, lit his clay pipe at the
lamp before descending into the street. I'll be back some time, Watson,
said he, and vanished into the night. I understood that
he had opened his campaign against Charles Augustus Milverton, but
I little dreamed the strange shape which that campaign was
destined to take. For some days Holmes came and went
at all hours in this attire, but beyond the remark
that his time was spent at Hampstead, and that it
was not wasted. I knew nothing of what he was doing.
At last, However, on a wild, tempestuous evening, when the
wind screamed and rattled against the windows, he returned from
his last expedition, and having removed his disguise, he sat
before the fire and laughed heartily in his sight inward fashion.
You would not call me a marrying man, Watson. No, indeed,
you will be interested to hear that I am engaged,
my dear fellow, I congret to Milverton's housemaid, Good heavens, Holmes,
I wanted information, Watson. Surely you've gone too far. It
was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with
a rising business, Escott by name. I have walked out
with her each evening, and I have talked with her.
Good heavens those talks, however, I have got all I wanted.
I know Milverton's house as I know the palm of
my hand. But the girl, Holmes, he shrugged his shoulders.
You can't help it, my dear Watson. You must play
your cards as best you can when such a stake
is on the table. However, I rejoice to say that
I have a hated rival who will certainly cut me
out the instant that my back is turned. What a
splendid night it is. You like this weather? It suits
my purpose, Watson, I mean to burgle Milverton's house to night.
I had a catching of the breath, and my skin
went cold at the words, which were slowly uttered in
a tone of concentrated resolution. As a flash of lightning
in the night shows up in an instant every detail
of a wild landscape. So at one glance I seem
to see every possible result of such an action, the detection,
the capture, the honored career, ending in irreparable failure and disgrace,
my friend himself lying at the mercy of the odious Milverton.
For Heaven's sake, Holmes, think what you're doing, I cried,
my dear fellow. I have given it every consideration. I
am never precipitate in my actions, nor would I adopt
so energetic, and indeed so dangerous a course if any
other were possible. Let us look at the matter clearly
and fairly. I suppose that you admit that the action
is morally justifiable, though technically criminal. To burgle his house
is no more than to forcibly take his pocket book,
an action in which you were prepared to aid me.
I turned it over in my mind. Yes, I said,
it is morally justifiable, so long as our object is
to take no articles, save those which are used for
an illegal purpose. Exactly since it is morally justifiable, I
have only to consider the question of personal risk. Surely
a gentleman should not lay much stress upon this. When
a lady is in most desperate need of his help,
you will be in such a false position. Well, that
is part of the risk. There is no other possible
way of regaining those letters. The unfortunate lady is not
the money, and there are none of her people in
whom she could confide to Morrow is the last day
of grace, and unless we can get the letters to night,
this villain will be as good as his word and
will bring about her ruin. I must therefore abandon my
client to her fate, or I must play this last
card between ourselves. Watson, it's a sporting duel between this
fellow Milverton and me. He had, as you saw, the
best of the first exchanges. But my self, respect and
my reputation are concerned to fight it to a finish. Well,
I don't like it, but I suppose it must be,
said I, when do we start? You are not coming?
Then you are not going? Said I. I give you
my word of honor, and I never broke it in
my life that I will take a cab straight to
the police station and give you a way. Unless you
let me share this adventure with you. You can't help me.
How do you know that you can't tell what may
happen anyway? My resolution is taken other people. Besides, you
have self respect and even reputations. Holmes had looked annoyed,
but his brow cleared and he clapped me on the shoulder. Well, well,
my dear fellow, be it so we have shared this
same room for some years, and it would be amusing
if we ended by sharing the same cell. You know, Watson,
I don't mind confessing to you that I have always
had an idea that I would have made a highly
efficient criminal. This is the chance of my lifetime in
that direction. See here he took a neat little leather
case out of a drawer, and opening it, he exhibited
a number of shining instruments. This is a first class,
up to date burgling kit with nickel plated Jemmy, diamond
lipped glass cutter, adaptable keys, and every modern improvement which
the March of civilization demands. Here too is my dark lantern.
Everything is in order. Have you a pair of silent shoes?
I have rubber soled tennis shoes excellent, and a mask.
I can make a couple out of black silk. I
can see that you have a strong natural turn for
this sort of thing. Very good? Do you make the masks?
We shall have some cold supper before we start. It
is now nine thirty. At eleven. We shall drive as
far as Church Row. It is a quarter of an
hour's walk from there to apple Doore Towers. We shall
be at work before midnight. Milverton is a heavy sleeper
and retires punctually at ten thirty. With any luck, we
should be back here by two. With the lady Eva's
letters in my pocket. Holmes and I put on our
dress clothes so that we might appear to be two
theater goers. Homeward bound in Oxford Street, we picked up
a hansom and drove to an address in Hampstead. Here
we paid off our cab and with our greatcoats buttoned up,
for it was bitterly cold, and the wind seemed to
blow through us. We walked along the edge of the heath.
It's a business that needs delicate treatment, said Holmes. These
documents are contained and safe in the fellow's study, and
the study is the ante room of his bedchamber. On
the other hand, like all these stout little men who
do themselves well, he is a plethoric sleeper. Agatha, that's
my fiance, says. It is a joke in the servants
hall that it's impossible to wake the master. He has
a secretary who is devoted to his interests and never
budges from the study all day. That's why we're going
at night. Then he has a beast of a dog
which roams the guard. I met Agatha late the last
two evenings, and she locks the brute up so as
to give me a clear run. This is the house,
this big one, in its own grounds. Through the gate
now to the right, among the laurels, we might put
on our masks here. I think you see there is
not a glimmer of light in any of the windows,
and everything is working splendidly. With our black silk face coverings,
which turned us into two of the most truculent figures
in London. We stole up to the silent, gloomy house,
a sort of tiled verandah extended along one side of it,
lined by several windows and two doors. That's his bedroom,
Holmes whispered. This door opened straight into the study. It
would suit us best, but it is bolted as well
as locked, and we should make too much noise getting in.
Come round here. There's a greenhouse which opened into the
drawing room. The place was locked, but Homes removed a
circle of glass and turned the key from the inside.
An instant afterwards, he had closed the door behind us,
and we had become felons in the eyes of the law.
The thick, warm air of the conservatory and the rich,
choking fragrance of exotic plants took us by the throat.
He seized my hand in the darkness and led me
swiftly past banks of shrubs which brushed against our faces.
Holmes had remarkable powers, carefully cultivated of seeing in the dark.
Still holding my hand in one of his, he opened
a door, and I was vaguely conscious that we had
entered a large room in which a cigar had been
smoked not long before. He felt his way among the furniture,
opened another door and closed it behind us, putting out
my hand, I felt several coats hanging from the wall,
and I understood that I was in a passage. We
passed along it, and Homes very gently opened the door
upon the right hand side. Something rushed out at us,
and my heart sprang into my mouth, but I could
have laughed when I realized that it was the cat.
A fire was burning in this new room, and again
the air was heavy with tobacco smoke. Holmes entered on tiptoe,
waited for me to follow, and then very gently closed
the door. We were in Milverton's study, and a portiere
at the farther side showed the entrance to his bedroom.
It was a good fire, and the room was illuminated
by it. Near the door, I saw the gleam of
an electric switch, but it was unnecessary, even if it
had been safe to turn it on. At one side
of the fireplace was a heavy curtain which covered the
bay window we had seen from outside. On the other
side was the door which communicated with the verandah deesque
stood in the center with a turning chair of shining
red leather. Opposite was a large bookcase with a marble
bust of athene on the top. In the corner between
the bookcase and the wall, there stood a tall green safe,
the firelight flashing back from the polished brass knobs upon
its face. Home stole across and looked at it. Then
he crept to the door of the bedroom and stood
with slanting head, listening intently. No sound came from within. Meanwhile,
it had struck me that it would be wise to
secure our retreat through the outer door, so I examined it.
To my amazement, it was neither locked nor bolted. I
touched homes on the arm, and he turned his masked
face in that direction. I saw him start, and he
was evidently as surprised as I was. I don't like it,
he whispered, putting his lips to my very ear. I
can't quite make it out anyhow. We have no time
to lose. Can I do anything? Yes, stand by the door.
If you hear anyone come, bolt it on the inside
and we can get away as we came. If they
come the other way, we can get through the door.
If our job is done, or hide behind these window
curtains if it is not, Do you understand? I nodded
and stood by the door. My first feeling of fear
had passed away, and I thrilled now with a keener
zest than I had ever enjoyed when we were the
defenders of the law instead of its defires. The high
object of our mission, the consciousness that it was unselfish
and chivalrous, the villainous character of our opponent, all added
to the sporting interest of the adventure. Far from feeling guilty,
I rejoiced and exalted in our dangers with a glow
of admiration. I watched Holmes unrolling his case of instruments
and choosing his tool with the calm, scientific accuracy a
surgeon who performs a delicate operation. I knew that the
opening of safes was a particular hobby with him, and
I understood the joy which it gave him to be
confronted with this green and gold monster, the dragon which
held in its more the reputations of many fair ladies.
Turning up the cuffs of his dress coat, he had
placed his overcoat on a chair. Homes laid out two drills,
a Gemmy and several skeleton keys. I stood at the
center door, with my eyes glancing at each of the others,
ready for any emergency, though indeed my plans were somewhat
vague as to what I should do if we were interrupted.
For half an hour, Holmes worked with concentrated energy, laying
down one tool, picking up another, handling each with the
strength and delicacy of the trained mechanic. Finally I heard
a click. The broad green door swung open, and inside
I had a glimpse of a number of paper packets,
each tied, sealed and inscribed. Holmes picked one out, but
it was as hard to read by the flickering fire,
and he drew out his little dark lantern, for it
was too dangerous with Milerton in the next room to
switch on the electric light. Suddenly I saw him halt,
listen intently, and then in an instant he had swung
the door of the safe too, picked up his coat,
stuffed his tools into the pockets, and darted behind the
window curtain, motioning me to do the same. It was
only when I had joined him there that I heard
what had alarmed his quicker senses. There was a noise
somewhere within the house. A door slammed in the distance.
Then a confused dull murmur broke itself into the measured
thud of heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. They were in the
passage outside the room. They paused at the door opened.
There was a sharp snick as the electric light was
turned on. The door closed once more, and the pungent
reek of a strong cigar was borne to our nostrils.
Then the footsteps continued backward and forward, backward and forward,
within a few yards of us. Finally there was a
creak from a chair, and the footsteps ceased. Then a
key clicked in a lock, and I heard the rustle
of papers. So far I had not dared to look out,
But now I gently parted the division of the curtains
in front of me and peeped through. From the pressure
of Holmes's shoulder against mine, I knew that he was
sharing my observations. Right in front of us, and almost
within our reach was the broad rounded back of Milverton.
It was evident that we had entirely miscalculated his movements,
that he'd never been to his bedroom, but that he'd
been sitting up in some smoking or billiard room in
the farther wing of the house, the windows of which
we had not seen. His broad, grizzled head with its
shining patch of baldness, was in the immediate foreground of
our vision. He was leaning far back in the red
leather chair, his legs outstretched, a long black cigar projecting
at an angle from his mouth. He wore a semi
military smoking jacket, claret colored with a black velvet collar.
In his hand he held a long legal document which
he was reading in an indolent fashion, blowing rings of
tobacco smoke from his lips as he did so. There
was no promise of a speedy departure. In his composed
bearing and his comfortable attitude. I felt Holmes's hand steal
into mine and give me a reassuring shake, as if
to say that the situation was within his powers and
that he was easy in his mind. I was not
so sure that he'd seen what was only too obvious
from my pers that the door of the safe was
imperfectly closed, and that Milverton might at any moment observe it.
In my own mind, I had determined that if I
was sure from the rigidity of his gaze that it
had caught his eye. I would at once spring out,
throw my greatcoat over his head, pinion him, and leave
the rest to Holmes. But Milverton never looked up. He
was languidly interested by the papers in his hand, and
page after page was turned as he followed the argument
of the lawyer. At least, I thought, when he's finished
the document and the cigar, he will go to his room.
But before he had reached the end of either, there
came a remarkable development which turned our thoughts into quite
another channel. Several times I had observed that Milverton looked
at his watch, and once he had risen and sat
down again with a gesture of impatience. The idea, however,
that he might have an appointment at so strange an hour,
never occurred to me until a faint sound reached my
ears from the verandah outside. Milverton dropped his papers and
sat rigid in his chair. The sound was repeated, and
then there came a gentle tap at the door. Millerton
rose and opened it well, said he curtly, you're nearly
half an hour late. So this was the explanation of
the unlocked door and of the nocturnal vigil of Milverton.
There was the gentle rustle of a woman's dress. I
had closed the slit between the curtains as Milverton's face
had turned in our direction, But now I ventured very
carefully to open it once more. He had resumed his seat,
the cigar still projecting at an insolent angle from the
corner of his mouth. In front of him, in the
full glare of the electric light, there stood a tall, slim,
dark woman, a veil over her face, a mantle drawn
round her chin. Her breath came quick and fast, and
every inch of the lithe figure was quivering with strong emotion. Well,
said Milverton, you made me lose a good night's rest,
my dear. I hope you'll prove worth it. You couldn't
come any other time, eh, The woman shook her head. Well,
if you couldn't, you couldn't. If the Countess is a
hard mistress, you have your chance to get level with her. Now,
bless the girl. What are you shivering about? Now? Write?
Pull yourself together. Now let's get down to business. He
took a note book from the drawer of his desk.
You say that you have five letters which compromise the
Countess Delbert. You want to sell them, I want to
buy them. So far, so good, It only remains to
fix a price. I should want to inspect the letters,
of course, if they're really good specimens, great heavens, is
it you? The woman without a word, had raised her
veil and dropped the mantle from her chin. It was
a dark, handsome, clear cut face which confronted Milverton, a
face with a curved nose, strong dark eyebrows shading hard
glittering eyes, and a straight, thin lipped mouth set in
a dangerous smile. It is I, she said, the woman
whose life you have ruined. Milverton laughed, but fear vibrated
in his voice. You were so very obstinate, said he.
Why did you drive me to such extremities. I assure
you I wouldn't hurt a fly of my own accord,
But every man has his business, and what was I
to do. I put the price well within your means.
You would not pay. So you sent the letters to
my husband, and he the noblest gentleman that ever lived,
a man whose boots I was never worthy to lace.
He broke his gallant heart and died. You remember that
last night, when I came through that door. I begged
and prayed you for mercy, and you laughed in my face.
As you are trying to laugh now. Only your coward
heart can't keep your lips from twitching. Yes, you never
thought to see me here again. But it was that
night which taught me how I could meet you face
to face and alone. Well, Charles Milburton, what have you
to say. Don't imagine that you can bully me, said he,
rising to his feet. I have only to raise my voice,
and I could call my servants and have your rested.
But I'll make allowance for your natural anger. Leave the
room at once as you came, and I will say
no more. The woman stood with her hand buried in
her bosom, and the same deadly smile on her thin lips.
You will ruin no more lives as you have ruined mine.
You will ring no more heart, But as you wrung mine,
I will free the world of a poisonous thing. Take that,
you hound, and that and that and that. She had
drawn a little gleaming revolver and emptied barrel after barrel
into Milverton's body, the muzzle within two feet of his
shirt front. He shrank away, and then fell forward upon
the table, coughing furiously and clawing among the papers. Then
he staggered to his feet, received another shot, and rolled
upon the floor. You've done me, he cried, and lay still.
The woman looked at him intently and ground her heel
into his upturned face. She looked again, but there was
no sound or movement. I heard a sharp rustle the
night air blew into the heated room, and the avenger
was gone. No interference upon our part could have saved
the man from his fate. But as the woman poured
bullet after bullet into Milverton's shrinking body, I was about
to spring out when I felt Holmes's cold, strong grasp
upon my wrist. I understood the whole argument of that firm,
restraining grip, that it was no affair of ours, that
justice had overtaken a villain, that we had our own
duties and our own objects which were not to be
lost sight of. But hardly had the woman rushed from
the room when Holmes, with swift, silent steps, was over
at the other door. He turned the key in the lock.
At the same instant we heard voices in the house
and the sound of hurrying feet the revolver shots had
roused the household with perfect coolness. Holmes slipped across to
the safe, filled his two arms with bundles of letters,
and poured them all into the fire. Again and again.
He did it until the safe was empty. Some one
turned the handle and beat upon the outside of the door.
Home looked swiftly round the letter, which had been the
messenger of death for Milverton lay All mottled with his
blood upon the table. Holmes tossed it in among the
blazing papers. Then he drew the key from the outer door,
passed through after me, and locked it on the outside.
This way, Watson said he we can scale the garden
wall in this direction. I could not have believed that
an alarm could have spread so swiftly. Looking back, the
huge house was one blaze of light. The front door
was open, and figures were rushing down the drive. The
whole garden was alive with people, and one fellow raised
a view hallo. As we emerged from the verandah and
followed hard at our heels. Holmes seemed to know the
grounds perfectly, and he threaded his way swiftly among a
plantation of small trees. I close at his heels, and
our foremost pursuer panting behind us. It was a six
foot wall which barred our path, but he sprang to
the top and over. As I did the same, I
felt the hand of the man behind me grab at
my ankle, but I kicked myself free and scrambled over
a grass strewn coping. I fell upon my face among
some bushes, but Holmes had me on my feet in
an instant, and together we dashed away across the huge
expanse of Hampstead Heath. We had run two miles, I suppose,
before Holmes at last halted and listened intently. All was
absolute silence behind us. We had shaken off our pursuers
and was safe. We had breakfasted and were smoking our
morning pipe. On the day after the remarkable experience which
I have recorded, when mister Lestrade of Scotland Yard, very
solemn and impressive, was ushered into our modest sitting room.
Good morning, mister Elmes, said he, Good morning. May I
ask you, if you are very busy just now, not
too busy to listen to you. I thought that perhaps,
if you had nothing particular on hand, you might care
to assist us in a most remarkable case, which occurred
only last night at Amstead. Dear me, said Holmes, what
was that a murder? A most dramatic and remarkable murder.
I know how keen you are upon those things, and
I would take it as a great favor if you
would step down to apple Doore Towers and give us
the benefit of your advice. It is no ordinary crime.
We have had our eyes upon this mister Milverton for
some time, and between ourselves it was a bit of
a villain. He is known to have held papers which
he used for blackmailing purposes. These papers have all been
burned by the murderers. No article of value was taken,
as it is probable that the criminals were men of
good position whose sole object was to prevent social exposure. Criminals,
said Holmes, plural. Yes, there were two of em. They
were as nearly as possible captured red handed. We have
their footmarks, we have their description. It's ten to one
that we trace them. The first fellow was a bit
too active, but the second was caught by the undergardener
and only got away after a struggle. He was a
middle sized, strongly built man, square jaw, thick neck, mustache,
a mask over his eyes. That's rather vague, said Sherlock Holmes.
My it might be a description of Watson. It's true,
said the inspector with amusement. It might be a description
of Watson. Well, I'm afraid I can't help you, Lestrade,
said Holmes. The fact is that I knew this fellow Milverton,
that I considered him one of the most dangerous men
in London, and that I think there are certain crimes
which the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent,
justify private revenge. No, oh, it's no use arguing. I've
made up my mind. My sympathies are with the criminals
rather than with the victim, and I will not handle
this case. Holmes had not said one word to me
about the tragedy which we had witnessed, But I observed
all the morning that he was in the most thoughtful mood,
and he gave me the impression from his vacant eyes
and his abstracted manner of a man who is striving
to recall something to his memory. We were in the
middle of our lunch when he suddenly sprang to his feet.
By jove, Watson, I've got it, he cried, take your hat,
come with me. He hurried at his top speed down
Baker Street, in along Oxford Street, until we'd almost reached
Regent's Circus. Here on the left hand there stands a
shop window filled with photographs of the celebrities and beauties
of the day. Holmes's eyes fixed themselves upon one of them,
and following his gaze, I saw the picture of a
regal and stately lady in dress with a high diamond
tiara upon her noble head. I looked at that delicately
curved nose, at the marked eyebrows, at the straight mouth,
and the strong little chin beneath it. Then I caught
my breath as I read the time honored title of
the great nobleman and statesman whose wife she had been.
My eyes met those of Holmes, and he put his
finger to his lips as we turned away from the window.
End of the Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton