The Doings of Raffles Haw

Robert heaved a long sigh of relief. “Perhaps you take too grave a view of your responsibilities,” he said. “Everybody knows that the good which you have done is immense. What more could you desire? If you really wished to extend your benevolence further, there are organised charities everywhere which would be very glad of your help.”

“I have the names of two hundred and seventy of them,” Haw answered. “You must run your eye over them some time, and see if you can suggest any others. I send my annual mite to each of them. I don’t think there is much room for expansion in that direction.”

“Well, really you have done your share, and more than your share. I would settle down to lead a happy life, and think no more of the matter.”

“I could not do that,” Haw answered earnestly. “I have not been singled out to wield this immense power simply in order that I might lead a happy life. I can never believe that. Now, can you not use your imagination, Robert, and devise methods by which a man who has command of – well, let us say, for argument’s sake, boundless wealth, could benefit mankind by it, without taking away any one’s independence or in any way doing harm?”

“Well, really, now that I come to think of it, it is a very difficult problem,” said Robert.

“Now I will submit a few schemes to you, and you may give me your opinion on them. Supposing that such a man were to buy ten square miles of ground here in Staffordshire, and were to build upon it a neat city, consisting entirely of clean, comfortable little four-roomed houses, furnished in a simple style, with shops and so forth, but no public-houses. Supposing, too, that he were to offer a house free to all the homeless folk, all the tramps, and broken men, and out-of-workers in Great Britain. Then, having collected them together, let him employ them, under fitting superintendence, upon some colossal piece of work which would last for many years, and perhaps be of permanent value to humanity. Give them a good rate of pay, and let their hours of labour be reasonable, and those of recreation be pleasant. Might you not benefit them and benefit humanity at one stroke?”

“But what form of work could you devise which would employ so vast a number for so long a time, and yet not compete with any existing industry? To do the latter would simply mean to shift the misery from one class to another.”

“Precisely so. I should compete with no one. What I thought of doing was of sinking a shaft through the earth’s crust, and of establishing rapid communication with the Antipodes. When you had got a certain distance down – how far is an interesting mathematical problem – the centre of gravity would be beneath you, presuming that your boring was not quite directed towards the centre, and you could then lay down rails and tunnel as if you were on the level.”

Then for the first time it flashed into Robert McIntyre’s head that his father’s chance words were correct, and that he was in the presence of a madman. His great wealth had clearly turned his brain, and made him a monomaniac. He nodded indulgently, as when one humours a child.

“It would be very nice,” he said. “I have heard, however, that the interior of the earth is molten, and your workmen would need to be Salamanders.”

“The latest scientific data do not bear out the idea that the earth is so hot,” answered Raffles Haw. “It is certain that the increased temperature in coal mines depends upon the barometric pressure. There are gases in the earth which may be ignited, and there are combustible materials as we see in the volcanoes; but if we came across anything of the sort in our borings, we could turn a river or two down the shaft, and get the better of it in that fashion.”

“It would be rather awkward if the other end of your shaft came out under the Pacific Ocean,” said Robert, choking down his inclination to laugh.

“I have had estimates and calculations from the first living engineers – French, English, and American. The point of exit of the tunnel could be calculated to the yard. That portfolio in the corner is full of sections, plans, and diagrams. I have agents employed in buying up land, and if all goes well, we may get to work in the autumn. That is one device which may produce results. Another is canal-cutting.”

“Ah, there you would compete with the railways.”

“You don’t quite understand. I intend to cut canals through every neck of land where such a convenience would facilitate commerce. Such a scheme, when unaccompanied by any toll upon vessels, would, I think, be a very judicious way of helping the human race.”

“And where, pray, would you cut the canals?” asked Robert.

“I have a map of the world here,” Haw answered, rising, and taking one down from the paper-rack. “You see the blue pencil marks. Those are the points where I propose to establish communication. Of course, I should begin by the obvious duty of finishing the Panama business.”

“Naturally.” The man’s lunacy was becoming more and more obvious, and yet there was such precision and coolness in his manner, that Robert found himself against his own reason endorsing and speculating over his plans.

“The Isthmus of Corinth also occurs to one. That, however, is a small matter, from either a financial or an engineering point of view. I propose, however, to make a junction here, through Kiel between the German Ocean and the Baltic. It saves, you will observe, the whole journey round the coast of Denmark, and would facilitate our trade with Germany and Russia. Another very obvious improvement is to join the Forth and the Clyde, so as to connect Leith with the Irish and American routes. You see the blue line?”

“Quite so.”

“And we will have a little cutting here. It will run from Uleaborg to Kem, and will connect the White Sea with the Gulf of Bothnia. We must not allow our sympathies to be insular, must we? Our little charities should be cosmopolitan. We will try and give the good people of Archangel a better outlet for their furs and their tallow.”

“But it will freeze.”

“For six months in the year. Still, it will be something. Then we must do something for the East. It would never do to overlook the East.”

“It would certainly be an oversight,” said Robert, who was keenly alive to the comical side of the question. Raffles Haw, however, in deadly earnest, sat scratching away at his map with his blue pencil.

“Here is a point where we might be of some little use. If we cut through from Batoum to the Kura River we might tap the trade of the Caspian, and open up communication with all the rivers which run into it. You notice that they include a considerable tract of country. Then, again, I think that we might venture upon a little cutting between Beirut, on the Mediterranean, and the upper waters of the Euphrates, which would lead us into the Persian Gulf. Those are one or two of the more obvious canals which might knit the human race into a closer whole.”

“Your plans are certainly stupendous,” said Robert, uncertain whether to laugh or to be awe-struck. “You will cease to be a man, and become one of the great forces of Nature, altering, moulding, and improving.”

“That is precisely the view which I take of myself. That is why I feel my responsibility so acutely.”

“But surely if you will do all this you may rest. It is a considerable programme.”

“Not at all. I am a patriotic Briton, and I should like to do something to leave my name in the annals of my country. I should prefer, however, to do it after my own death, as anything in the shape of publicity and honour is very offensive to me. I have, therefore, put by eight hundred million in a place which shall be duly mentioned in my will, which I propose to devote to paying off the National Debt. I cannot see that any harm could arise from its extinction.”

Robert sat staring, struck dumb by the audacity of the strange man’s words.

“Then there is the heating of the soil. There is room for improvement there. You have no doubt read of the immense yields which have resulted in Jersey and elsewhere, from the running of hot-water pipes through the soil. The crops are trebled and quadrupled. I would propose to try the experiment upon a larger scale. We might possibly reserve the Isle of Man to serve as a pumping and heating station. The main pipes would run to England, Ireland, and Scotland, where they would subdivide rapidly until they formed a network two feet deep under the whole country. A pipe at distances of a yard would suffice for every purpose.”

“I am afraid,” suggested Robert, “that the water which left the Isle of Man warm might lose a little of its virtue before it reached Caithness, for example.”

“There need not be any difficulty there. 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. 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.”