The Doings of Raffles Haw

The Doings of Raffles Haw

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Doings Of Raffles Haw
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
Title: The Doings Of Raffles Haw
Author: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Release Date: June, 2005 [EBook #8394] [This file was first posted on July 6, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: US-ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE DOINGS OF RAFFLES HAW ***

This eBook was produced by Lionel G. Sear of Truro, Cornwall, England

THE DOINGS OF RAFFLES HAW
Arthur Conan Doyle

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
1.
A DOUBLE ENIGMA
2. THE TENANT OF THE NEW HALL.
3. A HOUSE OF WONDERS.
4. FROM CLIME TO CLIME.
5. LAURA'S REQUEST
6. A STRANGE VISITOR
7. THE WORKINGS OF WEALTH.
8. A BILLIONAIRE'S PLANS.
9. A NEW DEPARTURE
10. THE GREAT SECRET
11. A CHEMICAL DEMONSTRATION.
12. A FAMILY JAR.
13. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE
14. THE SPREAD OF THE BLIGHT.
15. THE GREATER SECRET.

CHAPTER I.
A DOUBLE ENIGMA.
"I'm afraid that he won't come," said Laura McIntyre, in a disconsolate voice.
"Why not?"
"Oh, look at the weather; it is something too awful."
As she spoke a whirl of snow beat with a muffled patter against the cosy red-curtained window, while a long blast of wind shrieked and whistled through the branches of the great white-limbed elms which skirted the garden.
Robert McIntyre rose from the sketch upon which he had been working, and taking one of the lamps in his hand peered out into the darkness. The long skeleton limbs of the bare trees tossed and quivered dimly amid the whirling drift. His sister sat by the fire, her fancy-work in her lap, and looked up at her brothers profile which showed against the brilliant yellow light. It was a handsome face, young and fair and clear cut, with wavy brown hair combed backwards and rippling down into that outward curve at the ends which one associates with the artistic temperament. There was refinement too in his slightly puckered eyes, his dainty gold-rimmed _pince-nez_ glasses, and in the black velveteen coat which caught the light so richly upon its shoulder. In his mouth only there was something--a suspicion of coarseness, a possibility of weakness--which in the eyes of some, and of his sister among them, marred the grace and beauty of his features. Yet, as he was wont himself to say, when one thinks that each poor mortal is heir to a legacy of every evil trait or bodily taint of so vast a line of ancestors, lucky indeed is the man who does not find that Nature has scored up some long-owing family debt upon his features.
And indeed in this case the remorseless creditor had gone so far as to exact a claim from the lady also, though in her case the extreme beauty of the upper part of the face drew the eye away from any weakness which might be found in the lower. She was darker than her brother--so dark that her heavily coiled hair seemed to be black until the light shone slantwise across it. The delicate, half-petulant features, the finely traced brows, and the thoughtful, humorous eyes were all perfect in their way, and yet the combination left something to be desired. There was a vague sense of a flaw somewhere, in feature or in expression, which resolved itself, when analysed, into a slight out-turning and droop of the lower lip; small indeed, and yet pronounced enough to turn what would have been a beautiful face into a merely pretty one. Very despondent and somewhat cross she looked as she leaned back in the armchair, the tangle of bright-coloured silks and of drab holland upon her lap, her hands clasped behind her head, with her snowy forearms and little pink elbows projecting on either side.
"I know he won't come," she repeated.
"Nonsense, Laura! Of course he'll come. A sailor and afraid of the weather!"
"Ha!" She raised her finger, and a smile of triumph played over her face, only to die away again into a blank look of disappointment. "It is only papa," she murmured.
A shuffling step was heard in the hall, and a little peaky man, with his slippers very much