“Get behind him, Watson! Don’t let him out! Now, sir, let us seethe contents of that notebook.”
Milverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the roomand stood with his back against the wall.
“Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes,” he said, turning the front of his coatand exhibiting the butt of a large revolver, which projected fromthe inside pocket. “I have been expecting you to do somethingoriginal. This has been done so often, and what good has evercome from it? I assure you that I am armed to the teeth, and Iam perfectly prepared to use my weapons, knowing that the lawwill support me. Besides, your supposition that I would bring theletters here in a notebook is entirely mistaken. I would do nothingso foolish. And now, gentlemen, I have one or two little interviewsthis evening, and it is a long drive to Hampstead.” He steppedforward, took up his coat, laid his hand on his revolver, and turnedto the door. I picked up a chair, but Holmes shook his head, andI laid it down again. With bow, a smile, and a twinkle, Milvertonwas out of the room, and a few moments after we heard the slamof the carriage door and the rattle of the wheels as he drove away.
Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep inhis trouser pockets, his chin sunk upon his breast, his eyes fixedupon the glowing embers. For half an hour he was silent and still.
Then, with the gesture of a man who has taken his decision, hesprang to his feet and passed into his bedroom. A little later arakish young workman, with a goatee beard and a swagger, lit hisclay pipe at the lamp before descending into the street. “I’ll beback some time, Watson,” said he, and vanished into the night.
I understood that he had opened his campaign against CharlesAugustus Milverton, but I little dreamed the strange shape whichthat campaign was destined to take.
For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire,but beyond a remark that his time was spent at Hampstead, andthat it was not wasted, I knew nothing of what he was doing. Atlast, however, on a wild, tempestuous evening, when the windscreamed and rattled against the windows, he returned from hislast expedition, and having removed his disguise he sat before thefire and laughed heartily in his silent inward fashion.
“You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?”
“No, indeed!”
“You’ll be interested to hear that I’m engaged.”
“My dear fellow! I congrat——”
“To Milverton’s housemaid.”
“Good heavens, Holmes!”
“I wanted information, Watson.”
“Surely you have gone too far?”
“It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with a risingbusiness, Escott, by name. I have walked out with her each evening,and I have talked with her. Good heavens, those talks! However, Ihave got all I wanted. I know Milverton’s house as I know the palmof my hand.”
“But the girl, Holmes?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“You can’t help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards asbest you can when such a stake is on the table. However, I rejoiceto say that I have a hated rival, who will certainly cut me out theinstant 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’shouse to-night.”
I had a catching of the breath, and my skin went cold at thewords, which were slowly uttered in a tone of concentratedresolution. As a flash of lightning in the night shows up in aninstant every detail of a wild landscape, so at one glance I seemedto see every possible result of such an action—the detection,the capture, the honoured career ending in irreparable failureand disgrace, my friend himself lying at the mercy of the odiousMilverton.
“For heaven’s sake, Holmes, think what you are doing,” I cried.
“My dear fellow, I have given it every consideration. I am neverprecipitate in my actions, nor would I adopt so energetic and,indeed, so dangerous a course, if any other were possible. Letus look at the matter clearly and fairly. I suppose that you willadmit that the action is morally justifiable, though technicallycriminal. To burgle his house is no more than to forcibly take hispocketbook—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 totake no articles save those which are used for an illegal purpose.”
“Exactly. Since it is morally justifiable, I have only to considerthe question of personal risk. Surely a gentleman should not laymuch stress upon this, when a lady is in most desperate need ofhis help?”
“You will be in such a false position.”
“Well, that is part of the risk. There is no other possible way ofregaining these letters. The unfortunate lady has not the money,and there are none of her people in whom she could confide. Tomorrowis the last day of grace, and unless we can get the lettersto-night, this villain will be as good as his word and will bringabout her ruin. I must, therefore, abandon my client to her fateor I must play this last card. Between ourselves, Watson, it’s asporting duel between this fellow Milverton and me. He had, asyou saw, the best of the first exchanges, but my self-respect andmy reputation are concerned to fight it to a finish.”
“Well, I don’t like it, but I suppose it must be,” said I. “Whendo we start?”
“You are not coming.”
“Then you are not going,” said I. “I give you my word ofhonour—and I never broke it in my life—that I will take a cabstraight to the police-station and give you away, unless you let meshare 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 haveself-respect, and even reputations.”
Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and heclapped me on the shoulder.
