It may be that Laura did not look upon the removal of her father as an
unmixed misfortune. Nothing was said to her as to the manner of the old
man's seizure, but Robert informed her at breakfast that he had thought
it best, acting under medical advice, to place him for a time under
some restraint. She had herself frequently remarked upon the growing
eccentricity of his manner, so that the announcement could have been
no great surprise to her. It is certain that it did not diminish her
appetite for the coffee and the scrambled eggs, nor prevent her from
chatting a good deal about her approaching wedding.
But it was very different with Raffles Haw. The incident had shocked
him to his inmost soul. He had often feared lest his money should do
indirect evil, but here were crime and madness arising before his very
eyes from its influence. In vain he tried to choke down his feelings,
and to persuade himself that this attack of old McIntyre's was something
which came of itself--something which had no connection with himself or
his wealth. He remembered the man as he had first met him, garrulous,
foolish, but with no obvious vices. He recalled the change which, week
by week, had come over him--his greedy eye, his furtive manner, his
hints and innuendoes, ending only the day before in a positive demand
for money. It was too certain that there was a chain of events there
leading direct to the horrible encounter in the laboratory. His money
had cast a blight where he had hoped to shed a blessing.
Mr. Spurling, the vicar, was up shortly after breakfast, some rumour of
evil having come to his ears. It was good for Haw to talk with him, for
the fresh breezy manner of the old clergyman was a corrective to his own
sombre and introspective mood.
“Prut, tut!” said he. “This is very bad--very bad indeed! Mind unhinged,
you say, and not likely to get over it! Dear, dear! I have noticed
a change in him these last few weeks. He looked like a man who had
something upon his mind. And how is Mr. Robert McIntyre?”
“He is very well. He was with me this morning when his father had this
attack.”
“Ha! There is a change in that young man. I observe an alteration in
him. You will forgive me, Mr. Raffles Haw, if I say a few serious words
of advice to you. Apart from my spiritual functions I am old enough
to be your father. You are a very wealthy man, and you have used your
wealth nobly--yes, sir, nobly. I do not think that there is a man in a
thousand who would have done as well. But don't you think sometimes that
it has a dangerous influence upon those who are around you?”
“I have sometimes feared so.” “We may pass over old Mr. McIntyre. It
would hardly be just, perhaps, to mention him in this connection. But
there is Robert. He used to take such an interest in his profession.
He was so keen about art. If you met him, the first words he said were
usually some reference to his plans, or the progress he was making in
his latest picture. He was ambitious, pushing, self-reliant. Now he does
nothing. I know for a fact that it is two months since he put brush to
canvas. He has turned from a student into an idler, and, what is worse,
I fear into a parasite. You will forgive me for speaking so plainly?”
Raffles Haw said nothing, but he threw out his hands with a gesture of
pain.
“And then there is something to be said about the country folk,” said
the vicar. “Your kindness has been, perhaps, a little indiscriminate
there. They don't seem to be as helpful or as self-reliant as they used.
There was old Blaxton, whose cowhouse roof was blown off the other day.
He used to be a man who was full of energy and resource. Three months
ago he would have got a ladder and had that roof on again in two days'
work. But now he must sit down, and wring his hands, and write letters,
because he knew that it would come to your ears, and that you would make
it good. There's old Ellary, too! Well, of course he was always poor,
but at least he did something, and so kept himself out of mischief. Not
a stroke will he do now, but smokes and talks scandal from morning to
night. And the worst of it is, that it not only hurts those who have
had your help, but it unsettles those who have not. They all have an
injured, surly feeling as if other folk were getting what they had an
equal right to. It has really come to such a pitch that I thought it was
a duty to speak to you about it. Well, it is a new experience to me.
I have often had to reprove my parishioners for not being charitable
enough, but it is very strange to find one who is too charitable. It is
a noble error.”
“I thank you very much for letting me know about it,” answered Raffles
Haw, as he shook the good old clergyman's hand. “I shall certainly
reconsider my conduct in that respect.”
He kept a rigid and unmoved face until his visitor had gone, and then
retiring to his own little room, he threw himself upon the bed and burst
out sobbing with his face buried in the pillow. Of all men in England,
this, the richest, was on that day the most miserable. How could he use
this great power which he held? Every blessing which he tried to give
turned itself into a curse. His intentions were so good, and yet the
results were so terrible. It was as if he had some foul leprosy of the
mind which all caught who were exposed to his influence. His charity,
so well meant, so carefully bestowed, had yet poisoned the whole
countryside. And if in small things his results were so evil, how could
he tell that they would be better in the larger plans which he had
formed? If he could not pay the debts of a simple yokel without
disturbing the great laws of cause and effect which lie at the base of
all things, what could he hope for when he came to fill the treasury
of nations, to interfere with the complex conditions of trade, or to
provide for great masses of the population? He drew back with horror as
he dimly saw that vast problems faced him in which he might make errors
which all his money could not repair. The way of Providence was the
straight way. Yet he, a half-blind creature, must needs push in and
strive to alter and correct it. Would he be a benefactor? Might he not
rather prove to be the greatest malefactor that the world had seen?
But soon a calmer mood came upon him, and he rose and bathed his flushed
face and fevered brow. After all, was not there a field where all were
agreed that money might be well spent? It was not the way of nature, but
rather the way of man which he would alter. It was not Providence that
had ordained that folk should live half-starved and overcrowded in
dreary slums. That was the result of artificial conditions, and it
might well be healed by artificial means. Why should not his plans
be successful after all, and the world better for his discovery? Then
again, it was not the truth that he cast a blight on those with whom he
was brought in contact. There was Laura; who knew more of him than she
did, and yet how good and sweet and true she was! She at least had lost
nothing through knowing him. He would go down and see her. It would be
soothing to hear her voice, and to turn to her for words of sympathy in
this his hour of darkness.
The storm had died away, but a soft wind was blowing, and the smack of
the coming spring was in the air. He drew in the aromatic scent of the
fir-trees as he passed down the curving drive. Before him lay the long
sloping countryside, all dotted over with the farmsteadings and little
red cottages, with the morning sun striking slantwise upon their grey
roofs and glimmering windows. His heart yearned over all these people
with their manifold troubles, their little sordid miseries, their
strivings and hopings and petty soul-killing cares. How could he get
at them? How could he manage to lift the burden from them, and yet not
hinder them in their life aim? For more and more could he see that all
refinement is through sorrow, and that the life which does not refine is
the life without an aim.
Laura was alone in the sitting-room at Elmdene, for Robert had gone out
to make some final arrangements about his father. She sprang up as her
lover entered, and ran forward with a pretty girlish gesture to greet
him.
“Oh, Raffles!” she cried, “I knew that you would come. Is it not
dreadful about papa?”
“You must not fret, dearest,” he answered gently. “It may not prove to
be so very grave after all.”
“But it all happened before I was stirring. I knew nothing about it
until breakfast-time. They must have gone up to the Hall very early.”
“Yes, they did come up rather early.”
“What is the matter with you, Raffles?” cried Laura, looking up into his
face. “You look so sad and weary!”
“I have been a little in the blues. The fact is, Laura, that I have had
a long talk with Mr. Spurling this morning.”
The girl started, and turned white to the lips. A long talk with Mr.
Spurling! Did that mean that he had learned her secret?
“Well?” she gasped.
“He tells me that my charity has done more harm than good, and in fact,
that I have had an evil influence upon every one whom I have come
near. He said it in the most delicate way, but that was really what it
amounted to.”
“Oh, is that all?” said Laura, with a long sigh of relief. “You must not
think of minding what Mr. Spurling says. Why, it is absurd on the face
of it! Everybody knows that there are dozens of men all over the country
who would have been ruined and turned out of their houses if you had not
stood their friend. How could they be the worse for having known you? I
wonder that Mr. Spurling can talk such nonsense!”
“How is Robert's picture getting on?”
“Oh, he has a lazy fit on him. He has not touched it for ever so long.
But why do you ask that? You have that furrow on your brow again. Put it
away, sir!”
She smoothed it away with her little white hand.
“Well, at any rate, I don't think that quite everybody is the worse,”
said he, looking down at her. “There is one, at least, who is beyond
taint, one who is good, and pure, and true, and who would love me as
well if I were a poor clerk struggling for a livelihood. You would,
would you not, Laura?”
“You foolish boy! of course I would.”
“And yet how strange it is that it should be so. That you, who are the
only woman whom I have ever loved, should be the only one in whom I also
have raised an affection which is free from greed or interest. I wonder
whether you may not have been sent by Providence simply to restore my
confidence in the world. How barren a place would it not be if it were
not for woman's love! When all seemed black around me this morning, I
tell you, Laura, that I seemed to turn to you and to your love as the
one thing on earth upon which I could rely. All else seemed shifting,
unstable, influenced by this or that base consideration. In you, and you
only, could I trust.”
“And I in you, dear Raffles! I never knew what love was until I met
you.”
She took a step towards him, her hands advanced, love shining in her
features, when in an instant Raffles saw the colour struck from her
face, and a staring horror spring into her eyes. Her blanched and rigid
face was turned towards the open door, while he, standing partly behind
it, could not see what it was that had so moved her.
“Hector!” she gasped, with dry lips.
A quick step in the hall, and a slim, weather-tanned young man sprang
forward into the room, and caught her up in his arms as if she had been
a feather.
“You darling!” he said; “I knew that I would surprise you. I came right
up from Plymouth by the night train. And I have long leave, and plenty
of time to get married. Isn't it jolly, dear Laura?”
He pirouetted round with her in the exuberance of his delight. As he
spun round, however, his eyes fell suddenly upon the pale and silent
stranger who stood by the door. Hector blushed furiously, and made an
awkward sailor bow, standing with Laura's cold and unresponsive hand
still clasped in his.
“Very sorry, sir--didn't see you,” he said. “You'll excuse my going on
in this mad sort of way, but if you had served you would know what it
is to get away from quarter-deck manners, and to be a free man. Miss
McIntyre will tell you that we have known each other since we were
children, and as we are to be married in, I hope, a month at the latest,
we understand each other pretty well.”
Raffles Haw still stood cold and motionless. He was stunned, benumbed,
by what he saw and heard. Laura drew away from Hector, and tried to free
her hand from his grasp.
“Didn't you get my letter at Gibraltar?” she asked.
“Never went to Gibraltar. Were ordered home by wire from Madeira.
Those chaps at the Admiralty never know their own minds for two hours
together. But what matter about a letter, Laura, so long as I can see
you and speak with you? You have not introduced me to your friend here.”
“One word, sir,” cried Raffles Haw in a quivering voice. “Do I entirely
understand you? Let me be sure that there is no mistake. You say that
you are engaged to be married to Miss McIntyre?”
“Of course I am. I've just come back from a four months' cruise, and I
am going to be married before I drag my anchor again.”
“Four months!” gasped Haw. “Why, it is just four months since I came
here. And one last question, sir. Does Robert McIntyre know of your
engagement?”
“Does Bob know? Of course he knows. Why, it was to his care I left Laura
when I started. But what is the meaning of all this? What is the matter
with you, Laura? Why are you so white and silent? And--hallo! Hold up,
sir! The man is fainting!”
“It is all right!” gasped Haw, steadying himself against the edge of the
door.
He was as white as paper, and his hand was pressed close to his side as
though some sudden pain had shot through him. For a moment he tottered
there like a stricken man, and then, with a hoarse cry, he turned and
fled out through the open door.
“Poor devil!” said Hector, gazing in amazement after him. “He seems hard
hit anyhow. But what is the meaning of all this, Laura?”
His face had darkened, and his mouth had set.
She had not said a word, but had stood with a face like a mask looking
blankly in front of her. Now she tore herself away from him, and,
casting herself down with her face buried in the cushion of the sofa,
she burst into a passion of sobbing.
“It means that you have ruined me,” she cried. “That you have
ruined-ruined--ruined me! Could you not leave us alone? Why must you
come at the last moment? A few more days, and we were safe. And you
never had my letter.”
“And what was in your letter, then?” he asked coldly, standing with his
arms folded, looking down at her.
“It was to tell you that I released you. I love Raffles Haw, and I was
to have been his wife. And now it is all gone. Oh, Hector, I hate you,
and I shall always hate you as long as I live, for you have stepped
between me and the only good fortune that ever came to me. Leave me
alone, and I hope that you will never cross our threshold again.”
“Is that your last word, Laura?”
“The last that I shall ever speak to you.”
“Then, good-bye. I shall see the Dad, and go straight back to Plymouth.”
He waited an instant, in hopes of an answer, and then walked sadly from
the room.