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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Doings of Raffles Haw"


"We don't know, sir; but we can't get an answer when we knock at the
laboratory door. Yet he's there, for it's locked on the inside. It has
given us all a scare, sir, that, and his goin's-on during the day."
"His goings-on?"
"Yes, sir; for he came back this morning like a man demented, a-talkin'
to himself, and with his eyes starin' so that it was dreadful to look at
the poor dear gentleman. Then he walked about the passages a long time,
and he wouldn't so much as look at his luncheon, but he went into the
museum, and gathered all his jewels and things, and carried them into
the laboratory. We don't know what he's done since then, sir, but his
furnace has been a-roarin', and his big chimney spoutin' smoke like a
Birmingham factory. When night came we could see his figure against
the light, a-workin' and a-heavin' like a man possessed. No dinner
would he have, but work, and work, and work. Now it's all quiet, and
the furnace cold, and no smoke from above, but we can't get no answer
from him, sir, so we are scared, and Miller has gone for the police, and
I came away for you."
They reached the Hall as the butler finished his explanation, and there
outside the laboratory door stood the little knot of footmen and
ostlers, while the village policeman, who had just arrived, was holding
his bull's-eye to the keyhole, and endeavouring to peep through.


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