"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.
