The Doings of Raffles Haw
CHAPTER VII. THE WORKINGS OF WEALTH.
It can easily be believed that as the weeks passed the name and fameof the mysterious owner of the New Hall resounded over the quietcountryside until the rumour of him had spread to the remotest cornersof Warwickshire and Staffordshire. In Birmingham on the one side, and inCoventry and Leamington on the other, there was gossip as to his untoldriches, his extraordinary whims, and the remarkable life which he led.His name was bandied from mouth to mouth, and a thousand efforts weremade to find out who and what he was. In spite of all their pains,however, the newsmongers were unable to discover the slightest trace ofhis 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 aday passed without furnishing some new instance of the boundlessness ofhis 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, andmany were the times when the struggling man, harassed and driven tothe wall, found thrust into his hand some morning a brief note withan enclosure which rolled all the sorrow back from his life. One day athick double-breasted pea-jacket and a pair of good sturdy boots wereserved 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 theplace of the old worn-out treadle which tried her rheumatic joints.The pale-faced schoolmaster, who had spent years with hardly a break instruggling with the juvenile obtuseness of Tamfield, received throughthe post a circular ticket for a two months' tour through SouthernEurope, with hotel coupons and all complete. John Hackett, the farmer,after five long years of bad seasons, borne with a brave heart, had atlast been overthrown by the sixth, and had the bailiffs actually in thehouse 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 enoughremained over to provide the improved machinery which would enable himto hold his own for the future. An almost superstitious feeling cameupon the rustic folk as they looked at the great palace when the sungleamed upon the huge hot-houses, or even more so, perhaps, when atnight the brilliant electric lights shot their white radiance throughthe countless rows of windows. To them it was as if some minorProvidence presided in that great place, unseen but seeing all,boundless in its power and its graciousness, ever ready to assist and tobefriend. In every good deed, however, Raffles Haw still remained inthe background, while the vicar and Robert had the pleasant task ofconveying his benefits to the lowly and the suffering.
Once only did he appear in his own person, and that was upon the famousoccasion when he saved the well-known bank of Garraweg Brothers inBirmingham. The most charitable and upright of men, the two brothers,Louis and Rupert, had built up a business which extended itsramifications into every townlet of four counties. The failure of theirLondon agents had suddenly brought a heavy loss upon them, and thecircumstance leaking out had caused a sudden and most dangerous run upontheir establishment. Urgent telegrams for bullion from all their fortybranches poured in at the very instant when the head office was crowdedwith anxious clients all waving their deposit-books, and clamouring fortheir money. Bravely did the two brothers with their staff stand withsmiling faces behind the shining counter, while swift messengers spedand telegrams flashed to draw in all the available resources of thebank. All day the stream poured through the office, and when fouro'clock came, and the doors were closed for the day, the street withoutwas still blocked by the expectant crowd, while there remained scarce athousand pounds of bullion in the cellars.
"It is only postponed. Louis," said brother Rupert despairingly, whenthe last clerk had left the office, and when at last they could relaxthe fixed smile upon their haggard faces.
"Those shutters will never come down again," cried brother Louis, andthe two suddenly burst out sobbing in each other's arms, not for theirown griefs, but for the miseries which they might bring upon those whohad trusted them.
But who shall ever dare to say that there is no hope, if he will butgive his griefs to the world? That very night Mrs. Spurling had receiveda letter from her old school friend, Mrs. Louis Garraweg, with all herfears and her hopes poured out in it, and the whole sad story of theirtroubles. Swift from the Vicarage went the message to the Hall, andearly next morning Mr. Raffles Haw, with a great black carpet-bag in hishand, found means to draw the cashier of the local branch of the Bankof England from his breakfast, and to persuade him to open his doorsat unofficial hours. By half-past nine the crowd had already begunto collect around Garraweg's, when a stranger, pale and thin, with abloated carpet-bag, was shown at his own very pressing request into thebank parlour.
"It is no use, sir," said the elder brother humbly, as they stoodtogether 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 theothers to pay you now. We can but hope that when our assets are realisedno one will be the loser save ourselves."
"I did not come to draw out, but to put in," said Raffles Haw in hisdemure apologetic fashion. "I have in my bag five thousand hundred-poundBank of England notes. If you will have the goodness to place them to mycredit account I should be extremely obliged."
"But, good heavens, sir!" stammered Rupert Garraweg, "have younot heard? Have you not seen? We cannot allow you to do this thingblindfold; can we Louis?"
"Most certainly not. We cannot recommend our bank, sir, at the presentmoment, for there is a run upon us, and we do not know to what lengthsit may go."
"Tut! tut!" said Raffles Haw. "If the run continues you must send me awire, and I shall make a small addition to my account. You will send mea receipt by post. Good-morning, gentlemen!" He bowed himself out erethe astounded partners could realise what had befallen them, or raisetheir eyes from the huge black bag and the visiting card which lay upontheir table. There was no great failure in Birmingham that day, and thehouse of Garraweg still survives to enjoy the success which it deserves.
Such were the deeds by which Raffles Haw made himself known throughoutthe Midlands, and yet, in spite of all his open-handedness, he was nota 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 woesupon paper. Robert was astonished when he brought some tale of troubleto the Hall to observe how swift was the perception of the recluse, andhow unerringly he could detect a flaw in a narrative, or lay his fingerupon the one point which rang false. Were a man strong enough to helphimself, or of such a nature as to profit nothing by help, none wouldhe get from the master of the New Hall. In vain, for example, did oldMcIntyre throw himself continually across the path of the millionaire,and impress upon him, by a thousand hints and innuendoes, the hardfortune which had been dealt him, and the ease with which his fallengreatness might be restored. Raffles Haw listened politely, bowed,smiled, but never showed the slightest inclination to restore thequerulous old gunmaker to his pedestal.
But if the recluse's wealth was a lure which drew the beggars fromfar and near, as the lamp draws the moths, it had the same power ofattraction upon another and much more dangerous class. Strange hardfaces were seen in the village street, prowling figures were marked atnight stealing about among the fir plantations, and warning messagesarrived from city police and county constabulary to say that evilvisitors were known to have taken train to Tamfield. But if, as RafflesHaw held, there were few limits to the power of immense wealth, itpossessed, among other things, the power of self-preservation, as one ortwo people were to learn to their cost.
"Would you mind stepping up to the Hall?" he said one morning, puttinghis head in at the door of the Elmdene sitting-room. "I have somethingthere that might amuse you." He was on intimate terms with the McIntyresnow, and there were few days on which they did not see something of eachother.
They gladly accompanied him, all three, for such invitations wereusually the prelude of some agreeable surprise which he had in
store forthem.
"I have shown you a tiger," he remarked to Laura, as he led them intothe dining-room. "I will now show you something quite as dangerous,though not nearly so pretty." There was an arrangement of mirrors at oneend of the room, with a large circular glass set at a sharp angle at thetop.
"Look in there--in the upper glass," said Raffles Haw.
"Good gracious! what dreadful-looking men!" cried Laura. "There are twoof them, and I don't know which is the worse."
"What on earth are they doing?" asked Robert. "They appear to be sittingon the ground in some sort of a cellar."
"Most dangerous-looking characters," said the old man. "I shouldstrongly recommend you to send for a policeman."
"I have done so. But it seems a work of supererogation to take them toprison, for they are very snugly in prison already. However, I supposethat 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 ratherpiquantly with her queenly style of beauty.
"I know no more than you do. They were not there last night, and theyare here this morning, so I suppose it is a safe inference that theycame in during the night, especially as my servants found the windowopen when they came down. As to their character and intentions, I shouldthink that is pretty legible upon their faces. They look a pair ofbeauties, 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 headagainst the wall. No, he is bending so that the other may stand upon hisback. He is up there now, and the light is shining upon his face. Whata 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 ofTerror."
"I have caught them in my patent burglar trap," said Haw. "They are myfirst birds, but I have no doubt that they will not be the last. I willshow you how it works. It is quite a new thing. This flooring is nowas strong as possible, but every night I disconnect it. It is donesimultaneously 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 ahinge and slides you into a padded strong-room beneath, where you maykick your heels until you are released. There is a central oasis betweenthe hinges, where the furniture is grouped for the night. The flooringflies 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 thissimple little optical arrangement. I thought it might amuse you to havea 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 lookbewildered, for I suppose, Mr. Haw, that they neither know where theyare, nor how they came there. I am so glad to know that you guardyourself 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 houseis fairly burglar-proof. I have one window which may be used as anentrance, the centre one of the three of my laboratory. I keep it sobecause, to tell the truth, I am somewhat of a night prowler myself, andwhen I treat myself to a ramble under the stars I like to slip in andout without ceremony. It would, however, be a fortunate rogue who pickedthe only safe entrance out of a hundred, and even then he might findpitfalls. Here is the constable, but you must not go, for Miss McIntyrehas still something to see in my little place. If you will step into thebilliard-room I shall be with you in a very few moments."