The Doings of Raffles Haw | Page 8

his work to dwell upon his conversation with the vicar in the morning.
His imagination was fascinated by the idea of this strange man living
alone amid a crowd, and yet wielding such a power that with one dash
of his pen he could change sorrow into joy, and transform the condition
of a whole parish. The incident of the fifty-pound note came back to his
mind. It must surely have been Raffles Haw with whom Hector
Spurling had come in contact. There could not be two men in one
parish to whom so large a sum was of so small an account as to be
thrown to a bystander in return for a trifling piece of assistance. Of
course, it must have been Raffles Haw. And his sister had the note,
with instructions to return it to the owner, could he be found. He threw
aside his palette, and descending into the sitting-room he told Laura
and his father of his morning's interview with the vicar, and of his
conviction that this was the man of whom Hector was in quest.
"Tut! Tut!" said old McIntyre. "How is this, Laura? I knew nothing of
this. What do women know of money or of business? Hand the note
over to me and I shall relieve you of all responsibility. I will take
everything upon myself."

"I cannot possibly, papa," said Laura, with decision. "I should not think
of parting with it."
"What is the world coming to?" cried the old man, with his thin hands
held up in protest. "You grow more undutiful every day, Laura. This
money would be of use to me--of use, you understand. It may be the
corner-stone of the vast business which I shall re-construct. I will use it,
Laura, and I will pay something--four, shall we say, or even four and
a-half--and you may have it back on any day. And I will give
security--the security of my--well, of my word of honour."
"It is quite impossible, papa," his daughter answered coldly. "It is not
my money. Hector asked me to be his banker. Those were his very
words. It is not in my power to lend it. As to what you say, Robert, you
may be right or you may be wrong, but I certainly shall not give Mr.
Raffles Haw or anyone else the money without Hector's express
command."
"You are very right about not giving it to Mr. Raffles Haw," cried old
McIntyre, with many nods of approbation. "I should certainly not let it
go out of the family."
"Well, I thought that I would tell you."
Robert picked up his Tam-o'-Shanter and strolled out to avoid the
discussion between his father and sister, which he saw was about to be
renewed. His artistic nature revolted at these petty and sordid disputes,
and he turned to the crisp air and the broad landscape to soothe his
ruffled feelings. Avarice had no place among his failings, and his
father's perpetual chatter about money inspired him with a positive
loathing and disgust for the subject.
Robert was lounging slowly along his favourite walk which curled over
the hill, with his mind turning from the Roman invasion to the
mysterious millionaire, when his eyes fell upon a tall, lean man in front
of him, who, with a pipe between his lips, was endeavouring to light a
match under cover of his cap. The man was clad in a rough pea-jacket,
and bore traces of smoke and grime upon his face and hands. Yet there

is a Freemasonry among smokers which overrides every social
difference, so Robert stopped and held out his case of fusees.
"A light?" said he.
"Thank you." The man picked out a fusee, struck it, and bent his head
to it. He had a pale, thin face, a short straggling beard, and a very sharp
and curving nose, with decision and character in the straight thick
eyebrows which almost met on either side of it. Clearly a superior kind
of workman, and possibly one of those who had been employed in the
construction of the new house. Here was a chance of getting some
first-hand information on the question which had aroused his curiosity.
Robert waited until he had lit his pipe, and then walked on beside him.
"Are you going in the direction of the new Hall?" he asked.
"Yes."
The man's voice was cold, and his manner reserved.
"Perhaps you were engaged in the building of it?"
"Yes, I had a hand in it."
"They say that it is a wonderful place inside. It has been quite the talk
of the district. Is it as rich as they say?"
"I am sure I don't know. I have not heard what they say."
His attitude was certainly not encouraging, and it seemed