Chapter 3

A HOUSE OF WONDERS.

Robert McIntyre's face must have expressed the utter astonishment which
filled his mind at this most unlooked-for announcement. For a moment he
thought that his companion must be joking, but the ease and assurance
with which he lounged up the steps, and the deep respect with which a
richly-clad functionary in the hall swung open the door to admit him,
showed that he spoke in sober earnest. Raffles Haw glanced back, and
seeing the look of absolute amazement upon the young artist's features,
he chuckled quietly to himself.

"You will forgive me, won't you, for not disclosing my identity?" he
said, laying his hand with a friendly gesture upon the other's sleeve.
"Had you known me you would have spoken less freely, and I should not
have had the opportunity of learning your true worth. For example,
you might hardly have been so frank upon the matter of wealth had you
known that you were speaking to the master of the Hall."

"I don't think that I was ever so astonished in my life," gasped Robert.

"Naturally you are. How could you take me for anything but a workman?
So I am. Chemistry is one of my hobbies, and I spend hours a day in my
laboratory yonder. I have only just struck work, and as I had inhaled
some not-over-pleasant gases, I thought that a turn down the road and a
whiff of tobacco might do me good. That was how I came to meet you, and
my toilet, I fear, corresponded only too well with my smoke-grimed face.
But I rather fancy I know you by repute. Your name is Robert McIntyre,
is it not?"

"Yes, though I cannot imagine how you knew."

"Well, I naturally took some little trouble to learn something of my
neighbours. I had heard that there was an artist of that name, and I
presume that artists are not very numerous in Tamfield. But how do you
like the design? I hope it does not offend your trained taste."

"Indeed, it is wonderful--marvellous! You must yourself have an
extraordinary eye for effect."

"Oh, I have no taste at all; not the slightest. I cannot tell good from
bad. There never was such a complete Philistine. But I had the best
man in London down, and another fellow from Vienna. They fixed it up
between them."

They had been standing just within the folding doors upon a huge mat of
bison skins. In front of them lay a great square court, paved with
many-coloured marbles laid out in a labyrinth of arabesque design.
In the centre a high fountain of carved jade shot five thin feathers of
spray into the air, four of which curved towards each corner of the
court to descend into broad marble basins, while the fifth mounted
straight up to an immense height, and then