"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 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 wide landscape, so at one glance I seemed to see every possible
result of such an action--the detection, the capture, the honoured
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 are 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 will 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 these letters. The unfortunate lady has 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 honour--and
I never broke it in my life--that I will take a cab straight to the
police-station and give you away 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 beside 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 the 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-tipped 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 Appledore 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 theatre-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 great-coats 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 in a safe in the fellow's study, and the
study is the ante-room of his bed-chamber. On the other hand, like
all these stout, little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoric
sleeper. Agatha--that's my fiancee--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 are going at night. Then he has a beast
of a dog which roams the garden. 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 veranda extended along one side of it, lined
by several windows and two doors.
"That's his bedroom," Holmes whispered. "This door opens 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 opens into the drawing-room."
The place was locked, but Holmes 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 Holmes very gently opened a 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
veranda. A desk stood in the centre, 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. Holmes 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 Holmes on the arm, and he turned his masked
face in that direction. I saw him start, and he was evidently as
surprised as I.
"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 defiers. 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 exulted 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 of 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 maw the reputations of many fair ladies. Turning up the cuffs of
his dress-coat--he had placed his overcoat on a chair--Holmes laid
out two drills, a jemmy, and several skeleton keys. I stood at the
centre 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 hard to read
by the flickering fire, and he drew out his little dark lantern, for
it was too dangerous, with Milverton 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 to, 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.
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
backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, 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 had never been to his
bedroom, but that he had 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
