her there came a remarkable development which turned our

thoughts into quite another channel.

several times i had observed that milverton looked at his

watch, and once he had risen and sat down again, with a

gesture of impatience. the idea, however, that he might

have an appointment at so strange an hour never occurred to

me until a faint sound reached my ears from the veranda

outside. milverton dropped his papers and sat rigid in

his chair. the sound was repeated, and then there came

a gentle tap at the door. milverton rose and opened it.

"well," said he, curtly, "you are nearly half an hour

late."

so this was the explanation of the unlocked door and of the

nocturnal vigil of milverton. there was the gentle rustle

of a woman's dress. i had closed the slit between the

curtains as milverton's face had turned in our direction,

but now i ventured very carefully to open it once more.

he had resumed his seat, the cigar still projecting at an

insolent angle from the corner of his mouth. in front of

him, in the full glare of the electric light, there stood

a tall, slim, dark woman, a veil over her face, a mantle

drawn round her chin. her breath came quick and fast, and

every inch of the lithe figure was quivering with strong

emotion.

"well," said milverton, "you've made me lose a good night's

rest, my dear. i hope you'll prove worth it. you couldn't

come any other time -- eh?"

the woman shook her head.

"well, if you couldn't you couldn't. if the countess is a

hard mistress you have your chance to get level with her

now. bless the girl, what are you shivering about? that's

right! pull yourself together! now, let us get down to

business." he took a note from the drawer of his desk.

"you say that you have five letters which compromise the

countess d'albert. you want to sell them. i want to buy

them. so far so good. it only remains to fix a price.

i should want to inspect the letters, of course. if they

are really good specimens ---- great heavens, is it you?"

the woman without a word had raised her veil and dropped

the mantle from her chin. it was a dark, handsome,

clear-cut face which confronted milverton, a face with a

curved nose, strong, dark eyebrows shading hard, glittering

eyes, and a straight, thin-lipped mouth set in a dangerous

smile.

"it is i," she said; "the woman whose life you have

ruined."

milverton laughed, but fear vibrated in his voice. "you

were so very obstinate," said he. "why did you drive me to

such extremities? i assure you i wouldn't hurt a fly of my

own accord, but every man has his business, and what was i

to do? i put the price well within your means. you would

not pay."

"so you sent the letters to my husband, and he -- the

noblest gentleman that ever lived, a man whose boots i was

never worthy to lace -- he broke his gallant heart and

died. you remember that last night when i came through

that door i begged and prayed you for mercy, and you

laughed in my face as you are trying to laugh now, only

your coward heart cannot keep your lips from twitching?

yes, you never thought to see me here again, but it was

that night which taught me how i could meet you face to

face, and alone. well, charles milverton, what have you

to say?"

"don't imagine that you can bully me," said he, rising to

his feet. "i have only to raise my voice, and i could call

my servants and have you arrested. but i will make

allowance for your natural anger. leave the room at once

as you came, and i will say no more."

the woman stood with her hand buried in her bosom, and the

same deadly smile on her thin lips.

"you will ruin no more lives as you ruined mine. you will

wring no more hearts as you wrung mine. i will free the

world of a poisonous thing. take that, you hound, and

that! -- and that! -- and that!"

she had drawn a little, gleaming revolver, and emptied

barrel after barrel into milverton's body, the muzzle

within two feet of his shirt front. he shrank away and

then fell forward upon the table, coughing furiously and

clawing among the papers. then he staggered to his feet,

received another shot, and rolled upon the floor. "you've

done me," he cried, and lay still. the woman looked at him

intently and ground her heel into his upturned face. she

looked again, but there was no sound or movement. i heard

a sharp rustle, the night air blew into the heated room,

and the avenger was gone.

no interference upon our part could have saved the man from

his fate; but as the woman poured bullet after bullet into

milverton's shrinking body i was about to spring out, when

i felt holmes's cold, strong grasp upon my wrist. i

understood the whole argument of that firm, restraining

grip -- that it was no affair of ours; that justice had

overtaken a villain; that we had our own duties and our own

objects