Chapter 7 - Page 2

in the background, while the vicar and Robert had the pleasant task of
conveying his benefits to the lowly and the suffering.

Once only did he appear in his own person, and that was upon the famous
occasion when he saved the well-known bank of Garraweg Brothers in
Birmingham. The most charitable and upright of men, the two brothers,
Louis and Rupert, had built up a business which extended its
ramifications into every townlet of four counties. The failure of their
London agents had suddenly brought a heavy loss upon them, and the
circumstance leaking out had caused a sudden and most dangerous run upon
their establishment. Urgent telegrams for bullion from all their forty
branches poured in at the very instant when the head office was crowded
with anxious clients all waving their deposit-books, and clamouring for
their money. Bravely did the two brothers with their staff stand with
smiling faces behind the shining counter, while swift messengers sped
and telegrams flashed to draw in all the available resources of the
bank. All day the stream poured through the office, and when four
o'clock came, and the doors were closed for the day, the street without
was still blocked by the expectant crowd, while there remained scarce a
thousand pounds of bullion in the cellars.

"It is only postponed. Louis," said brother Rupert despairingly, when
the last clerk had left the office, and when at last they could relax
the fixed smile upon their haggard faces.

"Those shutters will never come down again," cried brother Louis, and
the two suddenly burst out sobbing in each other's arms, not for their
own griefs, but for the miseries which they might bring upon those who
had trusted them.

But who shall ever dare to say that there is no hope, if he will but
give his griefs to the world? That very night Mrs. Spurling had
received a letter from her old school friend, Mrs. Louis Garraweg, with
all her fears and her hopes poured out in it, and the whole sad story
of their troubles. Swift from the Vicarage went the message to the
Hall, and early next morning Mr. Raffles Haw, with a great black
carpet-bag in his hand, found means to draw the cashier of the local
branch of the Bank of England from his breakfast, and to persuade him to
open his doors at unofficial hours. By half-past nine the crowd had
already begun to collect around Garraweg's, when a stranger, pale and
thin, with a bloated carpet-bag, was shown at his own very pressing
request into the bank parlour.

"It is no use, sir," said the elder brother humbly, as they stood
together encouraging each other to turn a brave face to misfortune,
"we can do no more. We have little left, and it would be unfair to the
others