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, which were not to be lost
sight of. But hardly had the woman rushed from the room when
Holmes, with swift, silent steps, was over at the other door. He
turned the key in the lock. At the same instant we heard voices
in the house and the sound of hurrying feet. The revolver shots
had roused the household. With perfect coolness Holmes slipped
across to the safe, filled his two arms with bundles of letters, and
poured them all into the fire. Again and again he did it, until the
safe was empty. Someone turned the handle and beat upon the
outside of the door.
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