on his face. I spotted that harpoon upon the wall, and I thought I might
need it before I was through. Then at last he broke out at me, spitting
and cursing, with murder in his eyes and a great clasp-knife in his
hand. He had not time to get it from the sheath before I had the harpoon
through him. Heavens! what a yell he gave! and his face gets between me
and my sleep. I stood there, with his blood splashing round me, and I
waited for a bit, but all was quiet, so I took heart once more. I looked
round, and there was the tin box on the shelf. I had as much right to
it as Peter Carey, anyhow, so I took it with me and left the hut. Like a
fool I left my baccy-pouch upon the table.
"Now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story. I had hardly
got outside the hut when I heard someone coming, and I hid among the
bushes. A man came slinking along, went into the hut, gave a cry as if
he had seen a ghost, and legged it as hard as he could run until he was
out of sight. Who he was or what he wanted is more than I can tell.
For my part I walked ten miles, got a train at Tunbridge Wells, and so
reached London, and no one the wiser.
"Well, when I came to examine the box I found there was no money in it,
and nothing but papers that I would not dare to sell. I had lost my hold
on Black Peter and was stranded in London without a shilling. There was
only my trade left. I saw these advertisements about harpooners, and
high wages, so I went to the shipping agents, and they sent me here.
That's all I know, and I say again that if I killed Black Peter, the law
should give me thanks, for I saved them the rice of a hempen rope."
"A very clear statement said Holmes," rising and lighting his pipe. "I
think, Hopkins, that you should lose no time in conveying your prisoner
to a place of safety. This room is not well adapted for a cell, and Mr.
Patrick Cairns occupies too large a proportion of our carpet."
"Mr. Holmes," said Hopkins, "I do not know how to express my gratitude.
Even now I do not understand how you attained this result."
"Simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue from the
beginning. It is very possible if I had known about this notebook
it might have led away my thoughts, as it did yours. But all I heard
pointed in the one direction. The amazing strength, the skill in the use
of the harpoon, the rum and water, the sealskin tobacco-pouch with the
coarse tobacco - all these pointed to a seaman, and one who had been a
whaler. I was convinced that the initials 'P.C.' upon the pouch were a
coincidence, and not those of Peter Carey, since he seldom smoked, and
no pipe was found in his cabin. You remember that I asked whether whisky
and brandy were in the cabin. You said they were. How many landsmen are
there who would drink rum when they could get these other spirits? Yes,
I was certain it was a seaman."
"And how did you find him?"
"My dear sir, the problem had become a very simple one. If it were
a seaman, it could only be a seaman who had been with him on the SEA
UNICORN. So far as I could learn he had sailed in no other ship. I
spent three days in wiring to Dundee, and at the end of that time I had
ascertained the names of the crew of the SEA UNICORN in 1883. When I
found Patrick Cairns among the harpooners, my research was nearing its
end. I argued that the man was probably in London, and that he would
desire to leave the country for a time. I therefore spent some days in
the East End, devised an Arctic expedition, put forth tempting terms for
harpooners who would serve under Captain Basil - and behold the result!"
"Wonderful!" cried Hopkins. "Wonderful!"
"You must obtain the release of young Neligan as soon as possible," said
Holmes. "I confess that I think you owe him some apology. The tin box
must be returned to him, but, of course, the securities which Peter
Carey has sold are lost forever. There's the cab, Hopkins, and 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 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 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
"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 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 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 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."
"You evidently do not know the Earl," said he.
From the baffled look upon Holmes's face, I could see clearly that he
"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 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 candelabra and butter-dishes
"It is impossible," said Holmes.
"Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate!" cried Milverton, taking out a bulky
pocketbook. "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 notebook."
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 notebook 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
"You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?"
"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 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
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 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 pocketbook - 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
"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
"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
Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me on
"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-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