Holmes looked swiftly round. The letter
which had been the messenger of death for Milverton lay, all
mottled with his blood, upon the table. Holmes tossed it in
among the blazing papers. Then he drew the key from the outer
door, passed through after me, and locked it on the outside.
"This way, Watson," said he, "we can scale the garden wall in
this direction."
I could not have believed that an alarm could have spread so
swiftly. Looking back, the huge house was one blaze of light.
The front door was open, and figures were rushing down the
drive. The whole garden was alive with people, and one fellow
raised a view-halloa as we emerged from the veranda and fol-
lowed hard at our heels. Holmes seemed to know the grounds
perfectly, and he threaded his way swiftly among a plantation of
small trees, I close at his heels, and our foremost pursuer panting
behind us. It was a six-foot wall which barred our path, but he
sprang to the top and over. As I did the same I felt the hand of
the man behind me grab at my ankle, but I kicked myself free
and scrambled over a grass-strewn coping.
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