Books: The Doings Of Raffles Haw
S >>
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle >> The Doings Of Raffles Haw
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 | 4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9
"It is a little box of a place this, Mr. Haw" said old McIntyre.
"I should think you must feel quite stifled in it after your grand
mansion, of which my son tells me such wonders. But we were
not always accustomed to this sort of thing, Mr. Haw. Humble as I stand
here, there was a time, and not so long ago, when I could write as many
figures on a cheque as any gunmaker in Birmingham. It was--"
"He is a dear discontented old papa," cried Laura, throwing her arm
round him in a caressing manner. He gave a sharp squeak and a grimace
of pain, which he endeavoured to hide by an outbreak of painfully
artificial coughing.
"Shall we go upstairs?" said Robert hurriedly, anxious to divert his
guest's attention from this little domestic incident. "My studio is the
real atelier, for it is right up under the tiles. I shall lead the
way, if you will have the kindness to follow me."
Leaving Laura and Mr. McIntyre, they went up together to the workroom.
Mr. Haw stood long in front of the "Signing of Magna Charta," and the
"Murder of Thomas a Becket," screwing up his eyes and twitching
nervously at his beard, while Robert stood by in anxious expectancy.
"And how much are these?" asked Raffles Haw at last.
"I priced them at a hundred apiece when I sent them to London."
"Then the best I can wish you is that the day may come when you would
gladly give ten times the sum to have them back again. I am sure that
there are great possibilities in you, and I see that in grouping and in
boldness of design you have already achieved much. But your drawing, if
you will excuse my saying so, is just a little crude, and your colouring
perhaps a trifle thin. Now, I will make a bargain with you, Mr.
McIntyre, if you will consent to it. I know that money has no charms
for you, but still, as you said when I first met you, a man must live.
I shall buy these two canvases from you at the price which you name,
subject to the condition that you may always have them back again by
repaying the same sum."
"You are really very kind." Robert hardly knew whether to be delighted
at having sold his pictures or humiliated at the frank criticism of the
buyer.
"May I write a cheque at once?" said Raffles Haw. "Here is pen and
ink. So! I shall send a couple of footmen down for them in the
afternoon. Well, I shall keep them in trust for you. I dare say
that when you are famous they will be of value as specimens of your
early manner."
"I am sure that I am extremely obliged to you, Mr. Haw," said the young
artist, placing the cheque in his notebook. He glanced at it as he
folded it up, in the vague hope that perhaps this man of whims had
assessed his pictures at a higher rate than he had named. The figures,
however, were exact. Robert began dimly to perceive that there were
drawbacks as well as advantages to the reputation of a money-scorner,
which he had gained by a few chance words, prompted rather by the
reaction against his father's than by his own real convictions.
"I hope, Miss McIntyre," said Raffles Haw, when they had descended to
the sitting-room once more, "that you will do me the honour of coming to
see the little curiosities which I have gathered together.
Your brother will, I am sure, escort you up; or perhaps Mr. McIntyre
would care to come?"
"I shall be delighted to come, Mr. Haw" cried Laura, with her sweetest
smile. "A good deal of my time just now is taken up in looking after
the poor people, who find the cold weather very trying." Robert raised
his eyebrows, for it was the first he had heard of his sister's missions
of mercy, but Mr. Raffles Haw nodded approvingly. "Robert was telling
us of your wonderful hot-houses. I am sure I wish I could transport the
whole parish into one of them, and give them a good warm."
"Nothing would be easier, but I am afraid that they might find it a
little trying when they came out again. I have one house which is only
just finished. Your brother has not seen it yet, but I think it is the
best of them all. It represents an Indian jungle, and is hot enough in
all conscience."
"I shall so look forward to seeing it," cried Laura, clasping her hands.
"It has been one of the dreams of my life to see India. I have read so
much of it, the temples, the forests, the great rivers, and the tigers.
Why, you would hardly believe it, but I have never seen a tiger except
in a picture."
"That can easily be set right," said Raffles Haw, with his quiet smile.
"Would you care to see one?"
"Oh, immensely."
"I will have one sent down. Let me see, it is nearly twelve o'clock.
I can get a wire to Liverpool by one. There is a man there who deals in
such things. I should think he would be due to-morrow morning. Well, I
shall look forward to seeing you all before very long. I have
rather outstayed my time, for I am a man of routine, and I always put in
a certain number of hours in my laboratory." He shook hands cordially
with them all, and lighting his pipe at the doorstep, strolled off upon
his way.
"Well, what do you think of him now?" asked Robert, as they watched
his black figure against the white snow.
"I think that he is no more fit to be trusted with all that money than a
child," cried the old man. "It made me positively sick to hear him talk
of moving hills and buying tigers, and such-like nonsense, when there
are honest men without a business, and great businesses starving for
a little capital. It's unchristian--that's what I call it."
"I think he is most delightful, Robert," said Laura. "Remember, you have
promised to take us up to the Hall. And he evidently wishes us to go
soon. Don't you think we might go this afternoon?"
"I hardly think that, Laura. You leave it in my hands, and I will
arrange it all. And now I must get to work, for the light is so very
short on these winter days."
That night Robert McIntyre had gone to bed, and was dozing off when a
hand plucked at his shoulder, and he started up to find his sister in
some white drapery, with a shawl thrown over her shoulders, standing
beside him in the moonlight.
"Robert, dear," she whispered, stooping over him, "there was something I
wanted to ask you, but papa was always in the way. You will do
something to please me, won't you, Robert?"
"Of course, Laura. What is it?"
"I do so hate having my affairs talked over, dear. If Mr. Raffles Haw
says anything to you about me, or asks any questions, please don't say
anything about Hector. You won't, will you, Robert, for the sake of
your little sister?"
"No; not unless you wish it."
"There is a dear good brother." She stooped over him and kissed him
tenderly.
It was a rare thing for Laura to show any emotion, and her brother
marvelled sleepily over it until he relapsed into his interrupted doze.
CHAPTER VI.
A STRANGE VISITOR.
The McIntyre family was seated at breakfast on the morning which
followed the first visit of Raffles Haw, when they were surprised to
hear the buzz and hum of a multitude of voices in the village street.
Nearer and nearer came the tumult, and then, of a sudden, two
maddened horses reared themselves up on the other side of the garden
hedge, prancing and pawing, with ears laid back and eyes ever glancing
at some horror behind them. Two men hung shouting to their bridles,
while a third came rushing up the curved gravel path. Before the
McIntyres could realise the situation, their maid, Mary, darted into the
sitting-room with terror in her round freckled face:
"If you please, miss," she screamed, "your tiger has arrove."
"Good heavens!" cried Robert, rushing to the door with his half-filled
teacup in his hand. "This is too much. Here is an iron cage on a
trolly with a great ramping tiger, and the whole village with their
mouths open."
"Mad as a hatter!" shrieked old Mr. McIntyre. "I could see it in his
eye. He spent enough on this beast to start me in business. Whoever
heard of such a thing? Tell the driver to take it to the
police-station."
"Nothing of the sort, papa," said Laura, rising with dignity and
wrapping a shawl about her shoulders. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks
flushed, and she carried herself like a triumphant queen.
Robert, with his teacup in his hand, allowed his attention to be
diverted from their strange visitor while he gazed at his beautiful
sister.
"Mr. Raffles Haw has done this out of kindness to me," she said,
sweeping towards the door. "I look upon it as a great attention on his
part. I shall certainly go out and look at it."
"If you please, sir," said the carman, reappearing at the door, "it's
all as we can do to 'old in the 'osses."
"Let us all go out together then," suggested Robert.
They went as far as the garden fence and stared over, while the whole
village, from the school-children to the old grey-haired men from the
almshouses, gathered round in mute astonishment. The tiger, a long,
lithe, venomous-looking creature, with two blazing green eyes, paced
stealthily round the little cage, lashing its sides with its tail, and
rubbing its muzzle against the bars.
"What were your orders?" asked Robert of the carman.
"It came through by special express from Liverpool, sir, and the train
is drawn up at the Tamfield siding all ready to take it back. If it 'ad
been royalty the railway folk couldn't ha' shown it more respec'. We are
to take it back when you're done with it. It's been a cruel job, sir,
for our arms is pulled clean out of the sockets a-'olding in of the
'osses."
"What a dear, sweet creature it is," cried Laura. "How sleek and how
graceful! I cannot understand how people could be afraid of anything so
beautiful."
"If you please, marm," said the carman, touching his skin cap, "he out
with his paw between the bars as we stood in the station yard, and if I
'adn't pulled my mate Bill back it would ha' been a case of kingdom
come. It was a proper near squeak, I can tell ye."
"I never saw anything more lovely," continued Laura, loftily overlooking
the remarks of the driver. "It has been a very great pleasure to me to
see it, and I hope that you will tell Mr. Haw so if you see him,
Robert."
"The horses are very restive," said her brother. "Perhaps, Laura, if you
have seen enough, it would be as well to let them go."
She bowed in the regal fashion which she had so suddenly adopted.
Robert shouted the order, the driver sprang up, his comrades let the
horses go, and away rattled the waggon and the trolly with half the
Tamfielders streaming vainly behind it.
"Is it not wonderful what money can do?" Laura remarked, as they knocked
the snow from their shoes within the porch. "There seems to be no wish
which Mr. Haw could not at once gratify."
"No wish of yours, you mean," broke in her father. "It's different when
he is dealing with a wrinkled old man who has spent himself in working
for his children. A plainer case of love at first sight I never saw."
"How can you be so coarse, papa?" cried Laura, but her eyes flashed, and
her teeth gleamed, as though the remark had not altogether displeased
her.
"For heaven's sake, be careful, Laura!" cried Robert. "It had not
struck me before, but really it does look rather like it. You know how
you stand. Raffles Haw is not a man to play with."
"You dear old boy!" said Laura, laying her hand upon his shoulder,
"what do you know of such things? All you have to do is to go on with
your painting, and to remember the promise you made the other night."
"What promise was that, then?" cried old McIntyre suspiciously.
"Never you mind, papa. But if you forget it, Robert, I shall never
forgive you as long as I live."
CHAPTER VII.
THE WORKINGS OF WEALTH.
It can easily be believed that as the weeks passed the name and fame of
the mysterious owner of the New Hall resounded over the quiet
countryside until the rumour of him had spread to the remotest corners
of Warwickshire and Staffordshire. In Birmingham on the one side, and
in Coventry and Leamington on the other, there was gossip as to his
untold riches, his extraordinary whims, and the remarkable life which he
led. His name was bandied from mouth to mouth, and a thousand efforts
were made to find out who and what he was. In spite of all their pains,
however, the newsmongers were unable to discover the slightest trace of
his antecedents, or to form even a guess as to the secret of his riches.
It was no wonder that conjecture was rife upon the subject, for hardly a
day passed without furnishing some new instance of the boundlessness of
his power and of the goodness of his heart. Through the vicar, Robert,
and others, he had learned much of the inner life of the parish, and
many were the times when the struggling man, harassed and driven to the
wall, found thrust into his hand some morning a brief note with an
enclosure which rolled all the sorrow back from his life. One day a
thick double-breasted pea-jacket and a pair of good sturdy boots were
served out to every old man in the almshouse. On another, Miss Swire,
the decayed gentlewoman who eked out her small annuity by needlework,
had a brand new first-class sewing-machine handed in to her to take the
place of the old worn-out treadle which tried her rheumatic joints.
The pale-faced schoolmaster, who had spent years with hardly a break in
struggling with the juvenile obtuseness of Tamfield, received through
the post a circular ticket for a two months' tour through Southern
Europe, with hotel coupons and all complete. John Hackett, the farmer,
after five long years of bad seasons, borne with a brave heart, had at
last been overthrown by the sixth, and had the bailiffs actually in the
house when the good vicar had rushed in, waving a note above his head,
to tell him not only that his deficit had been made up, but that enough
remained over to provide the improved machinery which would enable him
to hold his own for the future. An almost superstitious feeling came
upon the rustic folk as they looked at the great palace when the sun
gleamed upon the huge hot-houses, or even more so, perhaps, when at
night the brilliant electric lights shot their white radiance through
the countless rows of windows. To them it was as if some minor
Providence presided in that great place, unseen but seeing all,
boundless in its power and its graciousness, ever ready to assist and to
befriend. In every good deed, however, Raffles Haw still remained
in the background, while the vicar and Robert had the pleasant task of
conveying his benefits to the lowly and the suffering.
Once only did he appear in his own person, and that was upon the famous
occasion when he saved the well-known bank of Garraweg Brothers in
Birmingham. The most charitable and upright of men, the two brothers,
Louis and Rupert, had built up a business which extended its
ramifications into every townlet of four counties. The failure of their
London agents had suddenly brought a heavy loss upon them, and the
circumstance leaking out had caused a sudden and most dangerous run upon
their establishment. Urgent telegrams for bullion from all their forty
branches poured in at the very instant when the head office was crowded
with anxious clients all waving their deposit-books, and clamouring for
their money. Bravely did the two brothers with their staff stand with
smiling faces behind the shining counter, while swift messengers sped
and telegrams flashed to draw in all the available resources of the
bank. All day the stream poured through the office, and when four
o'clock came, and the doors were closed for the day, the street without
was still blocked by the expectant crowd, while there remained scarce a
thousand pounds of bullion in the cellars.
"It is only postponed. Louis," said brother Rupert despairingly, when
the last clerk had left the office, and when at last they could relax
the fixed smile upon their haggard faces.
"Those shutters will never come down again," cried brother Louis, and
the two suddenly burst out sobbing in each other's arms, not for their
own griefs, but for the miseries which they might bring upon those who
had trusted them.
But who shall ever dare to say that there is no hope, if he will but
give his griefs to the world? That very night Mrs. Spurling had
received a letter from her old school friend, Mrs. Louis Garraweg, with
all her fears and her hopes poured out in it, and the whole sad story
of their troubles. Swift from the Vicarage went the message to the
Hall, and early next morning Mr. Raffles Haw, with a great black
carpet-bag in his hand, found means to draw the cashier of the local
branch of the Bank of England from his breakfast, and to persuade him to
open his doors at unofficial hours. By half-past nine the crowd had
already begun to collect around Garraweg's, when a stranger, pale and
thin, with a bloated carpet-bag, was shown at his own very pressing
request into the bank parlour.
"It is no use, sir," said the elder brother humbly, as they stood
together encouraging each other to turn a brave face to misfortune,
"we can do no more. We have little left, and it would be unfair to the
others to pay you now. We can but hope that when our assets are
realised no one will be the loser save ourselves."
"I did not come to draw out, but to put in," said Raffles Haw in his
demure apologetic fashion. "I have in my bag five thousand
hundred-pound Bank of England notes. If you will have the goodness to
place them to my credit account I should be extremely obliged."
"But, good heavens, sir!" stammered Rupert Garraweg, "have you not
heard? Have you not seen? We cannot allow you to do this thing
blindfold; can we Louis?"
"Most certainly not. We cannot recommend our bank, sir, at the present
moment, for there is a run upon us, and we do not know to what lengths
it may go."
"Tut! tut!" said Raffles Haw. "If the run continues you must send me a
wire, and I shall make a small addition to my account. You will send me
a receipt by post. Good-morning, gentlemen!" He bowed himself out ere
the astounded partners could realise what had befallen them, or raise
their eyes from the huge black bag and the visiting card which lay upon
their table. There was no great failure in Birmingham that day, and the
house of Garraweg still survives to enjoy the success which it deserves.
Such were the deeds by which Raffles Haw made himself known throughout
the Midlands, and yet, in spite of all his open-handedness, he was not a
man to be imposed upon. In vain the sturdy beggar cringed at his gate,
and in vain the crafty letter-writer poured out a thousand fabulous woes
upon paper. Robert was astonished when he brought some tale of trouble
to the Hall to observe how swift was the perception of the recluse, and
how unerringly he could detect a flaw in a narrative, or lay his finger
upon the one point which rang false. Were a man strong enough to help
himself, or of such a nature as to profit nothing by help, none would he
get from the master of the New Hall. In vain, for example, did old
McIntyre throw himself continually across the path of the millionaire,
and impress upon him, by a thousand hints and innuendoes, the hard
fortune which had been dealt him, and the ease with which his fallen
greatness might be restored. Raffles Haw listened politely, bowed,
smiled, but never showed the slightest inclination to restore the
querulous old gunmaker to his pedestal.
But if the recluse's wealth was a lure which drew the beggars from far
and near, as the lamp draws the moths, it had the same power of
attraction upon another and much more dangerous class. Strange
hard faces were seen in the village street, prowling figures were marked
at night stealing about among the fir plantations, and warning messages
arrived from city police and county constabulary to say that evil
visitors were known to have taken train to Tamfield. But if, as Raffles
Haw held, there were few limits to the power of immense wealth, it
possessed, among other things, the power of self-preservation, as one or
two people were to learn to their cost.
"Would you mind stepping up to the Hall?" he said one morning, putting
his head in at the door of the Elmdene sitting-room. "I have something
there that might amuse you." He was on intimate terms with the
McIntyres now, and there were few days on which they did not see
something of each other.
They gladly accompanied him, all three, for such invitations were
usually the prelude of some agreeable surprise which he had in store for
them.
"I have shown you a tiger," he remarked to Laura, as he led them into
the dining-room. "I will now show you something quite as dangerous,
though not nearly so pretty." There was an arrangement of mirrors at
one end of the room, with a large circular glass set at a sharp angle at
the top.
"Look in there--in the upper glass," said Raffles Haw.
"Good gracious! what dreadful-looking men!" cried Laura. "There are two
of them, and I don't know which is the worse."
"What on earth are they doing?" asked Robert. "They appear to be
sitting on the ground in some sort of a cellar."
"Most dangerous-looking characters," said the old man. "I should
strongly recommend you to send for a policeman."
"I have done so. But it seems a work of supererogation to take them to
prison, for they are very snugly in prison already. However, I suppose
that the law must have its own."
"And who are they, and how did they come there? Do tell us, Mr. Haw."
Laura McIntyre had a pretty beseeching way with her, which went rather
piquantly with her queenly style of beauty.
"I know no more than you do. They were not there last night, and they
are here this morning, so I suppose it is a safe inference that they
came in during the night, especially as my servants found the window
open when they came down. As to their character and intentions, I
should think that is pretty legible upon their faces. They look a pair
of beauties, don't they?"
"But I cannot understand in the least where they are," said Robert,
staring into the mirror. "One of them has taken to butting his head
against the wall. No, he is bending so that the other may stand
upon his back. He is up there now, and the light is shining upon his
face. What a bewildered ruffianly face it is too. I should so like to
sketch it. It would be a study for the picture I am thinking of
of the Reign of Terror."
"I have caught them in my patent burglar trap," said Haw. "They are my
first birds, but I have no doubt that they will not be the last. I will
show you how it works. It is quite a new thing. This flooring is now
as strong as possible, but every night I disconnect it. It is
done simultaneously by a central machine for every room on the
ground-floor. When the floor is disconnected one may advance three or
four steps, either from the window or door, and then that whole part
turns on a hinge and slides you into a padded strong-room beneath, where
you may kick your heels until you are released. There is a central
oasis between the hinges, where the furniture is grouped for the night.
The flooring flies into position again when the weight of the
intruder is removed, and there he must bide, while I can always take a
peep at him by this simple little optical arrangement. I thought it
might amuse you to have a look at my prisoners before I handed them over
to the head-constable, who I see is now coming up the avenue."
"The poor burglars!" cried Laura. "It is no wonder that they look
bewildered, for I suppose, Mr. Haw, that they neither know where they
are, nor how they came there. I am so glad to know that you guard
yourself in this way, for I have often thought that you ran a danger."
"Have you so?" said he, smiling round at her. "I think that my house
is fairly burglar-proof. I have one window which may be used as an
entrance, the centre one of the three of my laboratory. I keep it so
because, to tell the truth, I am somewhat of a night prowler myself,
and when I treat myself to a ramble under the stars I like to slip in
and out without ceremony. It would, however, be a fortunate rogue who
picked the only safe entrance out of a hundred, and even then he might
find pitfalls. Here is the constable, but you must not go, for Miss
McIntyre has still something to see in my little place. If you will
step into the billiard-room I shall be with you in a very few moments."
CHAPTER VIII.
A BILLIONAIRE'S PLANS.
That morning, and many mornings both before and afterwards, were spent
by Laura at the New Hall examining the treasures of the museum, playing
with the thousand costly toys which Raffles Haw had collected, or
sallying out from the smoking-room in the crystal chamber into the long
line of luxurious hot-houses. Haw would walk demurely beside her as
she flitted from one thing to another like a butterfly among flowers,
watching her out of the corner of his eyes, and taking a quiet pleasure
in her delight. The only joy which his costly possessions had ever
brought him was that which came from the entertainment of others.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 | 4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9