The Doings of Raffles Haw, Arthur Conan Doyle [best large ebook reader .TXT] 📗

“The weekly waggon!”

“Yes, Robert. You see I can find some news for you yet. It is due this morning. Every Saturday morning you will see the waggon come in. Why, here it is now, as I am a living man, coming round the curve.”

Robert glanced back and saw a great heavy waggon drawn by two strong horses lumbering slowly along the road which led to the New Hall. From the efforts of the animals and its slow pace the contents seemed to be of great weight.

“Just you wait here,” old McIntyre cried, plucking at his son’s sleeve with his thin bony hand. “Wait here and see it pass. Then we will watch what becomes of it.”

They stood by the side of the road until it came abreast of them. The waggon was covered with tarpaulin sheetings in front and at the sides, but behind some glimpse could be caught of the contents. They consisted, as far as Robert could see, of a number of packets of the same shape, each about two feet long and six inches high, arranged symmetrically upon the top of each other. Each packet was surrounded by a covering of coarse sacking.

“What do you think of that?” asked old McIntyre triumphantly as the load creaked past.

“Why, father? What do you make of it?”

“I have watched it, Robert—I have watched it every Saturday, and I had my chance of looking a little deeper into it. You remember the day when the elm blew down, and the road was blocked until they could saw it in two. That was on a Saturday, and the waggon came to a stand until they could clear a way for it. I was there, Robert, and I saw my chance. I strolled behind the waggon, and I placed my hands upon one of those packets. They look small, do they not? It would take a strong man to lift one. They are heavy, Robert, heavy, and hard with the hardness of metal. I tell you, boy, that that waggon is loaded with gold.”

“Gold!”

“With solid bars of gold, Robert. But come into the plantation and we shall see what becomes of it.”

They passed through the lodge gates, behind the waggon, and then wandered off among the fir-trees until they gained a spot where they could command a view. The load had halted, not in front of the house, but at the door of the out-building with the chimney. A staff of stablemen and footmen were in readiness, who proceeded to swiftly unload and to carry the packages through the door. It was the first time that Robert had ever seen any one save the master of the house enter the laboratory. No sign was seen of him now, however, and in half an hour the contents had all been safely stored and the waggon had driven briskly away.

“I cannot understand it, father,” said Robert thoughtfully, as they resumed their walk. “Supposing that your supposition is correct, who would send him such quantities of gold, and where could it come from?”

“Ha, you have to come to the old man after all!” chuckled his companion. “I can see the little game. It is clear enough to me. There are two of them in it, you understand. The other one gets the gold. Never mind how, but we will hope that there is no harm. Let us suppose, for example, that they have found a marvellous mine, where you can just shovel it out like clay from a pit. Well, then, he sends it on to this one, and he has his furnaces and his chemicals, and he refines and purifies it and makes it fit to sell. That’s my explanation of it, Robert. Eh, has the old man put his finger on it?”

“But if that were true, father, the gold must go back again.”

“So it does, Robert, but a little at a time. Ha, ha! I’ve had my eyes open, you see. Every night it goes down in a small cart, and is sent on to London by the 7.40. Not in bars this time, but done up in iron-bound chests. I’ve seen them, boy, and I’ve had this hand upon them.”

“Well,” said the young man thoughtfully, “maybe you are right. It is possible that you are right.”

While father and son were prying into his secrets, Raffles Haw had found his way to Elmdene, where Laura sat reading the Queen by the fire.

“I am so sorry,” she said, throwing down her paper and springing to her feet. “They are all out except me. But I am sure that they won’t be long. I expect Robert every moment.”

“I would rather speak with you alone,” answered Raffles Haw quietly.” Pray sit down, for I wanted to have a little chat with you.”

Laura resumed her seat with a flush upon her cheeks and a quickening of the breath. She turned her face away and gazed into the fire; but there was a sparkle in her eyes which was not caught from the leaping flames.

“Do you remember the first time that we met, Miss McIntyre?” he asked, standing on the rug and looking down at her dark hair, and the beautifully feminine curve of her ivory neck.

“As if it were yesterday,” she answered in her sweet mellow tones.

“Then you must also remember the wild words that I said when we parted. It was very foolish of me. I am sure that I am most sorry if I frightened or disturbed you, but I have been a very solitary man for a long time, and I have dropped into a bad habit of thinking aloud. Your voice, your face, your manner, were all so like my ideal of a true woman, loving, faithful, and sympathetic, that I could not help wondering whether, if I were a poor man, I might ever hope to win the affection of such a one.”

“Your good opinion, Mr. Raffles Haw, is very dear to me,” said Laura. “I assure you that I was not frightened, and that there is no need to apologise for what was really a compliment.”

“Since then I have found,” he continued, “that all that I had read upon your face was true. That your mind is indeed that of the true woman, full of the noblest and sweetest qualities which human nature can aspire to. You know that I am a man of fortune, but I wish you to dismiss that consideration from your mind. Do you think from what you know of my character that you could be happy as my wife, Laura?”

She made no answer, but still sat with her head turned away and her sparkling eyes fixed upon the fire. One little foot from under her skirt tapped nervously upon the rug.

“It is only right that you should know a little more about me before you decide. There is, however, little to know. I am an orphan, and, as far as I know, without a relation upon earth. My father was a respectable man, a country surgeon in Wales, and he brought me up to his own profession. Before I had passed my examinations, however, he died and left me a small annuity. I had conceived a great liking for the subjects of chemistry and electricity, and instead of going on with my medical work I devoted myself entirely to these studies, and eventually built myself a laboratory where I could follow out my own researches. At about this time I came into a very large sum of money, so large as to make me feel that a vast responsibility rested upon me in the use which I made of it. After some thought I determined to build a large house in a quiet part of the country, not too far from a great centre. There I could be in touch with the world, and yet would have quiet and leisure to mature the schemes which were in my head. As it chanced, I chose Tamfield as my site. All that remains now is to carry out the plans which I have made, and to endeavour to lighten the earth of some of the misery and injustice which weigh it down. I again ask you, Laura, will you throw in your lot with mine, and help me in the life’s work which lies before me?”

Laura looked up at him, at his stringy figure, his pale face, his keen, yet gentle eyes. Somehow as she looked there seemed to form itself beside him some shadow of Hector Spurling, the manly features, the clear, firm mouth, the frank manner. Now, in the very moment of her triumph, it sprang clearly up in her mind how at the hour of their ruin he had stood firmly by them, and had loved the penniless girl as tenderly as the heiress to fortune. That last embrace at the door, too, came back to her, and she felt his lips warm upon her own.

“I am very much honoured, Mr. Haw,” she stammered, “but this is so sudden. I have not had time to think. I do not know what to say.”

“Do not let me hurry you,” he cried earnestly. “I beg that you will think well over it. I shall come again for my answer. When shall I come? Tonight?”

“Yes, come tonight.”

“Then, adieu. Believe me that I think more highly of you for your hesitation. I shall live in hope.” He raised her hand to his lips, and left her to her own thoughts.

But what those thoughts were did not long remain in doubt. Dimmer and dimmer grew the vision of the distant sailor face, clearer and clearer the image of the vast palace, of the queenly power, of the diamonds, the gold, the ambitious future. It all lay at her feet, waiting to be picked up. How could she have hesitated, even for a moment? She rose, and, walking over to her desk, she took out a sheet of paper and an envelope. The latter she addressed to Lieutenant Spurling, H.M.S. Active, Gibraltar. The note cost some little trouble, but at last she got it worded to her mind.

“Dear Hector,” she said—“I am convinced that your father has never entirely approved of our engagement, otherwise he would not have thrown obstacles in the way of our marriage. I am sure, too, that since my poor father’s misfortune it is only your own sense of honour and feeling of duty which have kept you true to me, and that you would have done infinitely better had you never seen me. I cannot bear, Hector, to allow you to imperil your future for my sake, and I have determined, after thinking well over the matter, to release you from our boy and girl engagement, so that you may be entirely free in every way. It is possible that you may think it unkind of me to do this now, but I am quite sure, dear Hector, that when you are an admiral and a very distinguished man, you will look back at this, and you will see that I have been a true friend to you, and have prevented you from making a false step early in your career. For myself, whether I marry or not, I have determined to devote the remainder of my life to trying to do good, and to leaving the world happier than I found it. Your father is very well, and gave us a capital sermon last Sunday. I enclose the bank-note which you asked me to keep for you. Good-bye, for ever, dear Hector, and believe me when I say that, come what may, I am ever your true friend,

“Laura S. McIntyre.”

She had hardly sealed her letter before her father and Robert returned. She closed