CHAPTER XIII. A MIDNIGHT VENTURE.
Not a word was said to Laura when she returned as to the scene which hadoccurred in her absence. She was in the gayest of spirits, and prattledmerrily about her purchases and her arrangements, wondering from timeto time when Raffles Haw would come. As night fell, however, without anyword from him, she became uneasy.
"What can be the matter that he does not come?" she said. "It is thefirst day since our engagement that I have not seen him."
Robert looked out through the window.
"It is a gusty night, and raining hard," he remarked. "I do not at allexpect him."
"Poor Hector used to come, rain, snow, or fine. But, then, of course, hewas a sailor. It was nothing to him. I hope that Raffles is not ill."
"He was quite well when I saw him this morning," answered her brother,and they relapsed into silence, while the rain pattered against thewindows, and the wind screamed amid the branches of the elms outside.
Old McIntyre had sat in the corner most of the day biting his nails andglowering into the fire, with a brooding, malignant expression upon hiswrinkled features. Contrary to his usual habits, he did not go tothe village inn, but shuffled off early to bed without a word to hischildren. Laura and Robert remained chatting for some time by the fire,she talking of the thousand and one wonderful things which were to bedone when she was mistress of the New Hall. There was less philanthropyin her talk when her future husband was absent, and Robert could not butremark that her carriages, her dresses, her receptions, and her travelsin distant countries were the topics into which she threw all theenthusiasm which he had formerly heard her bestow upon refuge homes andlabour organisations.
"I think that greys are the nicest horses," she said. "Bays are nicetoo, but greys are more showy. We could manage with a brougham and alandau, and perhaps a high dog-cart for Raffles. He has the coach-housefull at present, but he never uses them, and I am sure that those fiftyhorses would all die for want of exercise, or get livers like Strasburggeese, if they waited for him to ride or drive them."
"I suppose that you will still live here?" said her brother.
"We must have a house in London as well, and run up for the season. Idon't, of course, like to make suggestions now, but it will be differentafterwards. I am sure that Raffles will do it if I ask him. It is allvery well for him to say that he does not want any thanks or honours,but I should like to know what is the use of being a public benefactorif you are to have no return for it. I am sure that if he does onlyhalf what he talks of doing, they will make him a peer--Lord Tamfield,perhaps--and then, of course, I shall be my Lady Tamfield, and whatwould you think of that, Bob?" She dropped him a stately curtsey, andtossed her head in the air, as one who was born to wear a coronet.
"Father must be pensioned off," she remarked presently. "He shall haveso much a year on condition that he keeps away. As to you, Bob, I don'tknow what we shall do for you. We shall make you President of the RoyalAcademy if money can do it."
It was late before they ceased building their air-castles and retired totheir rooms. But Robert's brain was excited, and he could not sleep.The events of the day had been enough to shake a stronger man. Therehad been the revelation of the morning, the strange sights which hehad witnessed in the laboratory, and the immense secret which had beenconfided to his keeping. Then there had been his conversation with hisfather in the afternoon, their disagreement, and the sudden intrusionof Raffles Haw. Finally the talk with his sister had excited hisimagination, and driven sleep from his eyelids. In vain he turned andtwisted in his bed, or paced the floor of his chamber. He was not onlyawake, but abnormally awake, with every nerve highly strung, and everysense at the keenest. What was he to do to gain a little sleep? Itflashed across him that there was brandy in the decanter downstairs, andthat a glass might act as a sedative.
He had opened the door of his room, when suddenly his ear caught thesound of slow and stealthy footsteps upon the stairs. His own lamp wasunlit, but a dim glimmer came from a moving taper, and a long blackshadow travelled down the wall. He stood motionless, listening intently.The steps were in the hall now, and he heard a gentle creaking as thekey was cautiously turned in the door. The next instant there came agust of cold air, the taper was extinguished, and a sharp snap announcedthat the door had been closed from without.
Robert stood astonished. Who could this night wanderer be? It must behis father. But what errand could take him out at three in the morning?And such a morning, too! With every blast of the wind the rain beat upagainst his chamber-window as though it would drive it in. The glassrattled in the frames, and the tree outside creaked and groaned as itsgreat branches were tossed about by the gale. What could draw any manforth upon such a night?
Hurriedly Robert struck a match and lit his lamp. His father's room wasopposite his own, and the door was ajar. He pushed it open and lookedabout him. It was empty. The bed had not even been lain upon. The singlechair stood by the window, and there the old man must have sat since heleft them. There was no book, no paper, no means by which he could haveamused himself, nothing but a razor-strop lying on the window-sill.
A feeling of impending misfortune struck cold to Robert's heart. Therewas some ill-meaning in this journey of his father's. He thought of hisbrooding of yesterday, his scowling face, his bitter threats. Yes, therewas some mischief underlying it. But perhaps he might even now be intime to prevent it. There was no use calling Laura. She could be no helpin the matter. He hurriedly threw on his clothes, muffled himself in histop-coat, and, seizing his hat and stick, he set off after his father.
As he came out into the village street the wind whirled down it, so thathe had to put his ear and shoulder against it, and push his way forward.It was better, however, when he turned into the lane. The high bank andthe hedge sheltered him upon one side. The road, however, was deep inmud, and the rain fell in a steady swish. Not a soul was to be seen, buthe needed to make no inquiries, for he knew whither his father had goneas certainly as though he had seen him.
The iron side gate of the avenue was half open, and Robert stumbled hisway up the gravelled drive amid the dripping fir-trees. What could hisfather's intention be when he reached the Hall? Was it merely that hewished to spy and prowl, or did he intend to call up the master andenter into some discussion as to his wrongs? Or was it possible thatsome blacker and more sinister design lay beneath his strange doings?Robert thought suddenly of the razor-strop, and gasped with horror. Whathad the old man been doing with that? He quickened his pace to a run,and hurried on until he found himself at the door of the Hall.
Thank God! all was quiet there. He stood by the big silent door andlistened intently. There was nothing to be heard save the wind and therain. Where, then, could his father be? If he wished to enter the Hallhe would not attempt to do so by one of the windows, for had he not beenpresent when Raffles Haw had shown them the precautions which he hadtaken? But then a sudden thought struck Robert. There was one windowwhich was left unguarded. Haw had been imprudent enough to tell themso. It was the middle window of the laboratory. If he remembered it soclearly, of course his father would remember it too. There was the pointof danger.
The moment that he had come round the corner of the building he foundthat his surmise had been correct. An electric lamp burned in thelaboratory, and the silver squares of the three large windows stood outclear and bright in the darkness. The centre one had been thrown open,and, even as he gazed, Robert saw a dark monkey-like figure spring upon to the sill, and vanish into the room beyond. For a moment only itoutlined itself against the brilliant light beyond, but in that momentRobert had space to see that it was indeed his father. On tiptoe hecrossed the intervening space, and peeped in through the open window. Itwas a singular spectacle which met his eyes.
There stood upon the glass table some half-dozen large ingots of gold,which had been made the night before, but which had not been removed tothe treasure-house. On these the old man had thrown himself, as one whoenters into his rightful inhe
ritance. He lay across the table, his armsclasping the bars of gold, his cheek pressed against them, crooningand muttering to himself. Under the clear, still light, amid the giantwheels and strange engines, that one little dark figure clutching andclinging to the ingots had in it something both weird and piteous.
For five minutes or more Robert stood in the darkness amid the rain,looking in at this strange sight, while his father hardly moved save tocuddle closer to the gold, and to pat it with his thin hands. Robertwas still uncertain what he should do, when his eyes wandered from thecentral figure and fell on something else which made him give a littlecry of astonishment--a cry which was drowned amid the howling of thegale.
Raffles Haw was standing in the corner of the room. Where he had comefrom Robert could not say, but he was certain that he had not been therewhen he first looked in. He stood silent, wrapped in some long, darkdressing-gown, his arms folded, and a bitter smile upon his pale face.Old McIntyre seemed to see him at almost the same moment, for hesnarled out an oath, and clutched still closer at his treasure, lookingslantwise at the master of the house with furtive, treacherous eyes.
"And it has really come to this!" said Haw at last, taking a stepforward. "You have actually fallen so low, Mr. McIntyre, as to stealinto my house at night like a common burglar. You knew that this windowwas unguarded. I remember telling you as much. But I did not tell youwhat other means I had adopted by which I might be warned if knaves madean entrance. But that you should have come! You!"
The old gunmaker made no attempt to justify himself, but he mutteredsome few hoarse words, and continued to cling to the treasure.
"I love your daughter," said Raffles Haw, "and for her sake I will notexpose you. Your hideous and infamous secret shall be safe with me. Noear shall hear what has happened this night. I will not, as I might,arouse my servants and send for the police. But you must leave my housewithout further words. I have nothing more to say to you. Go as you havecome."
He took a step forward, and held out his hand as if to detach the oldman's grasp from the golden bars. The other thrust his hand into thebreast of his coat, and with a shrill scream of rage flung himself uponthe alchemist. So sudden and so fierce was the movement that Haw had notime for defence. A bony hand gripped him by the throat, and the bladeof a razor flashed in the air. Fortunately, as it fell, the weaponstruck against one of the many wires which spanned the room, and flyingout of the old man's grasp, tinkled upon the stone floor. But, thoughdisarmed, he was still dangerous. With a horrible silent energy hepushed Haw back and back until, coming to a bench, they both fell overit, McIntyre remaining uppermost. His other hand was on the alchemist'sthroat, and it might have fared ill with him had Robert not climbedthrough the window and dragged his father off from him. With the aidof Haw, he pinned the old man down, and passed a long cravat around hisarms. It was terrible to look at him, for his face was convulsed, hiseyes bulging from his head, and his lips white with foam.
Haw leaned against the glass table panting, with his hand to his side.
"You here, Robert?" he gasped. "Is it not horrible? How did you come?"
"I followed him. I heard him go out."
"He would have robbed me. And he would have murdered me. But he ismad--stark, staring mad!"
There could be no doubt of it. Old McIntyre was sitting up now, andburst suddenly into a hoarse peal of laughter, rocking himself backwardsand forwards, and looking up at them with little twinkling, cunningeyes. It was clear to both of them that his mind, weakened by longbrooding over the one idea, had now at last become that of a monomaniac.His horrid causeless mirth was more terrible even than his fury.
"What shall we do with him?" asked Haw. "We cannot take him back toElmdene. It would be a terrible shock to Laura."
"We could have doctors to certify in the morning. Could we not keep himhere until then? If we take him back, some one will meet us, and therewill be a scandal."
"I know. We will take him to one of the padded rooms, where he canneither hurt himself nor anyone else. I am somewhat shaken myself. But Iam better now. Do you take one arm, and I will take the other."
Half-leading and half-dragging him they managed between them to conveythe old gunmaker away from the scene of his disaster, and to lodge himfor the night in a place of safety. At five in the morning Robert hadstarted in the gig to make the medical arrangements, while Raffles Hawpaced his palatial house with a troubled face and a sad heart.