VII.--The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.
IT is years since the incidents of which I speak took place, and yet itis with diffidence that I allude to them. For a long time, even with theutmost discretion and reticence, it would have been impossible to makethe facts public; but now the principal person concerned is beyond thereach of human law, and with due suppression the story may be toldin such fashion as to injure no one. It records an absolutely uniqueexperience in the career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of myself. Thereader will excuse me if I conceal the date or any other fact by whichhe might trace the actual occurrence.
We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and hadreturned about six o'clock on a cold, frosty winter's evening. As Holmesturned up the lamp the light fell upon a card on the table. He glancedat it, and then, with an ejaculation of disgust, threw it on the floor.I picked it up and read:--
CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON, APPLEDORE TOWERS, AGENT. HAMPSTEAD.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"The worst man in London," Holmes answered, as he sat down and stretchedhis 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 theslithery, gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes andwicked, flattened faces? Well, that's how Milverton impresses me. I'vehad to do with fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them nevergave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow. And yet I can't getout 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. Heavenhelp the man, and still more the woman, whose secret and reputation comeinto the power of Milverton. With a smiling face and a heart of marblehe will squeeze and squeeze until he has drained them dry. The fellow isa genius in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savourytrade. His method is as follows: He allows it to be known that he isprepared to pay very high sums for letters which compromise people ofwealth or position. He receives these wares not only from treacherousvalets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians who have gainedthe confidence and affection of trusting women. He deals with no niggardhand. I happen to know that he paid seven hundred pounds to a footmanfor a note two lines in length, and that the ruin of a noble family wasthe result. Everything which is in the market goes to Milverton, andthere are hundreds in this great city who turn white at his name. Noone knows where his grip may fall, for he is far too rich and far toocunning to work from hand to mouth. He will hold a card back for yearsin 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 howcould one compare the ruffian who in hot blood bludgeons his mate withthis man, who methodically and at his leisure tortures the soul andwrings 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 awoman, for example, to get him a few months' imprisonment if her ownruin must immediately follow? His victims dare not hit back. If ever heblackmailed an innocent person, then, indeed, we should have him; but heis as cunning as the Evil One. No, no; we must find other ways to fighthim."
"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 lastseason. She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt.This fiend has several imprudent letters--imprudent, Watson, nothingworse--which were written to an impecunious young squire in the country.They would suffice to break off the match. Milverton will send theletters to the Earl unless a large sum of money is paid him. I have beencommissioned 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 lampsgleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts. A footmanopened the door, and a small, stout man in a shaggy astrachan overcoatdescended. 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 frozensmile, and two keen grey eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind broad,golden-rimmed glasses. There was something of Mr. Pickwick's benevolencein his appearance, marred only by the insincerity of the fixed smile andby the hard glitter of those restless and penetrating eyes. His voicewas as smooth and suave as his countenance, as he advanced with a plumplittle hand extended, murmuring his regret for having missed us at hisfirst visit. Holmes disregarded the outstretched hand and looked at himwith a face of granite. Milverton's smile broadened; he shrugged hisshoulders, removed his overcoat, folded it with great deliberation overthe 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 Iprotested. 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 LadyEva. 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 isnot 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 forgranted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters.My client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her totell her future husband the whole story and to trust to his generosity."
Milverton chuckled.