Every few miles a furnace might be arranged to keep up the temperature. These are a few of my plans for the future, Robert, and I shall want the co-operation of disinterested men like yourself in all of them. But how brightly the sun shines, and how sweet the countryside looks! The world is very beautiful, and I should like to leave it happier than I found it. Let us walk out together, Robert, and you will tell me of any fresh cases where I may be of assistance."
CHAPTER IX.
A NEW DEPARTURE.
Whatever good Mr. Raffles Haw's wealth did to the world, there could be no doubt that there were cases where it did harm. The very contemplation and thought of it had upon many a disturbing and mischievous effect. Especially was this the case with the old gunmaker. From being merely a querulous and grasping man, he had now become bitter, brooding, and dangerous. Week by week, as he saw the tide of wealth flow as it were through his very house without being able to divert the smallest rill to nourish his own fortunes, he became more wolfish and more hungry-eyed. He spoke less of his own wrongs, but he brooded more, and would stand for hours on Tamfield Hill looking down at the great palace beneath, as a thirst-stricken man might gaze at the desert mirage.
He had worked, and peeped, and pried, too, until there were points upon which he knew more than either his son or his daughter.
"I suppose that you still don't know where your friend gets his money?" he remarked to Robert one morning, as they walked together through the village.
"No, father, I do not. I only know that he spends it very well."
"Well!" snarled the old man. "Yes, very well! He has helped every tramp and slut and worthless vagabond over the countryside, but he will not advance a pound, even on the best security, to help a respectable business man to fight against misfortune."
"My dear father, I really cannot argue with you about it," said Robert. "I have already told you more than once what I think. Mr. Haw's object is to help those who are destitute. He looks upon us as his equals, and would not presume to patronise us, or to act as if we could not help ourselves. It would be a humiliation to us to take his money."
"Pshaw! Besides, it is only a question of an advance, and advances are made every day among business men. How can you talk such nonsense, Robert?"
Early as it was, his son could see from his excited, quarrelsome manner that the old man had been drinking. The habit had grown upon him of late, and it was seldom now that he was entirely sober.
"Mr. Raffles Haw is the best judge," said Robert coldly. "If he earns the money, he has a right to spend it as he likes."
"And how does he earn it? You don't know, Robert. You don't know that you aren't aiding and abetting a felony when you help him to fritter it away. Was ever so much money earned in an honest fashion? I tell you there never was. I tell you, also, that lumps of gold are no more to that man than chunks of coal to the miners over yonder. He could build his house of them and think nothing of it."
"I know that he is very rich, father. I think, however, that he has an extravagant way of talking sometimes, and that his imagination carries him away. I have heard him talk of plans which the richest man upon earth could not possibly hope to carry through."
"Don't you make any mistake, my son. Your poor old father isn't quite a fool, though he is only an honest broken merchant." He looked up sideways at his son with a wink and a most unpleasant leer. "Where there's money I can smell it. There's money there, and heaps of it. It's my belief that he is the richest man in the world, though how he came to be so I should not like to guarantee. I'm not quite blind yet, Robert. Have you seen the weekly waggon?"
"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.