you can remove your man. If you want me for the trial, my address and
that of Watson will be somewhere in Norway--I'll send particulars
later."
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 Mr. Sherlock
Holmes and of myself. The reader will excuse me if I conceal the date
or any other fact by which he might trace the actual occurrence.
We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes 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 disgust, 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. "Is anything on the back of the
card?"
I turned it over.
"Will call at 6.30--C.A.M.," I read.
"Hum! He's about due. 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 is 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 savoury 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 or 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 have 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 at his leisure tortures the soul
and wrings the nerves in order to add to his already swollen
money-bags?"
I had seldom heard my friend 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 Brackwell, 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 a 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 astrachan
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 grey eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind
broad, golden-rimmed glasses. There was something of Mr. 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, Mr. 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. You say that you are 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 14th there certainly will be no marriage on the
18th." His insufferable smile was more complacent than ever.
Holmes thought for a little.
"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 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 will 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 astrachan coat.
Holmes was grey with anger and mortification.
"Wait a little," he said. "You go too fast. We would 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 candelabra 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 Honourable
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 honour are at stake. You surprise me,
Mr. 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
than to ruin this woman's career, which can profit you in no way?"
"There you make a mistake, Mr. 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."
Milverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the room, and
stood with his back against the wall.
"Mr. Holmes, Mr. 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 goatee 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 a 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 silent inward fashion.
"You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?"
"No, indeed!"
"You'll be interested to hear that I am engaged."
