The Innocence of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton

7/31/2019 The Innocence of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/the-innocence-of-father-brown-by-g-k-chesterton 1/152

TheInnocenceofFatherBrownbyG.K.Chesterton

CONTENTS:

TheBlueCrossTheSecretGardenTheQueerFeetTheFlyingStarsTheInvisibleManTheHonourofIsraelGowTheWrongShapeTheSinsofPrinceSaradineTheHammerofGodTheEyeofApolloTheSignoftheBrokenSwordTheThreeToolsofDeath

TheBlueCross

Betweenthesilverribbonofmorningandthegreenglitteringribbonofsea,theboattouchedHarwichandletlooseaswarmoffolklikeflies,amongwhomthemanwemustfollowwasbynomeansconspicuous--norwishedtobe.Therewasnothingnotableabouthim,exceptaslightcontrastbetweentheholidaygaietyofhisclothesandtheofficialgravityofhisface.Hisclothesincludedaslight,palegreyjacket,awhitewaistcoat,andasilverstrawhatwithagrey-blueribbon.Hisleanfacewasdarkbycontrast,andendedinacurtblackbeardthatlookedSpanishandsuggestedanElizabethanruff.Hewassmokingacigarettewiththeseriousnessofanidler.Therewasnothingabouthimto

indicatethefactthatthegreyjacketcoveredaloadedrevolver,thatthewhitewaistcoatcoveredapolicecard,orthatthestrawhatcoveredoneofthemostpowerfulintellectsinEurope.ForthiswasValentinhimself,theheadoftheParispoliceandthemostfamousinvestigatoroftheworld;andhewascomingfromBrusselstoLondontomakethegreatestarrestofthecentury.

FlambeauwasinEngland.ThepoliceofthreecountrieshadtrackedthegreatcriminalatlastfromGhenttoBrussels,fromBrusselstotheHookofHolland;anditwasconjecturedthathewouldtakesomeadvantageoftheunfamiliarityandconfusionoftheEucharisticCongress,thentakingplaceinLondon.Probablyhewouldtravelassomeminorclerkorsecretaryconnectedwith

it;but,ofcourse,Valentincouldnotbecertain;nobodycouldbecertainaboutFlambeau.

Itismanyyearsnowsincethiscolossusofcrimesuddenlyceasedkeepingtheworldinaturmoil;andwhenheceased,astheysaidafterthedeathofRoland,therewasagreatquietupontheearth.Butinhisbestdays(Imean,ofcourse,hisworst)FlambeauwasafigureasstatuesqueandinternationalastheKaiser.Almosteverymorningthedailypaperannouncedthathehadescapedtheconsequencesofoneextraordinarycrimeby



committinganother.HewasaGasconofgiganticstatureandbodilydaring;andthewildesttalesweretoldofhisoutburstsofathletichumour;howheturnedthejuged'instructionupsidedownandstoodhimonhishead,"toclearhismind";howherandowntheRuedeRivoliwithapolicemanundereacharm.Itisduetohimtosaythathisfantasticphysicalstrengthwasgenerallyemployedinsuchbloodlessthoughundignifiedscenes;hisrealcrimeswerechieflythoseofingeniousandwholesalerobbery.Buteachofhistheftswasalmostanewsin,andwouldmakeastorybyitself.ItwashewhoranthegreatTyroleanDairyCompanyinLondon,withnodairies,nocows,nocarts,nomilk,butwithsomethousandsubscribers.Theseheservedbythesimpleoperationofmovingthelittlemilkcansoutsidepeople'sdoorstothedoorsofhisowncustomers.Itwashewhohadkeptupanunaccountableandclosecorrespondencewithayoungladywhosewholeletter-bagwasintercepted,bytheextraordinarytrickofphotographinghismessagesinfinitesimallysmallupontheslidesofamicroscope.Asweepingsimplicity,however,markedmanyofhisexperiments.Itissaidthatheoncerepaintedallthenumbersinastreetinthedeadofnightmerelytodivertonetravellerintoatrap.Itisquitecertainthatheinventedaportablepillar-box,whichheputupatcornersinquietsuburbsonthechanceofstrangersdroppingpostalordersintoit.Lastly,hewasknowntobeastartlingacrobat;despitehishugefigure,hecouldleaplikeagrasshopper

andmeltintothetree-topslikeamonkey.HencethegreatValentin,whenhesetouttofindFlambeau,wasperfectlyawarethathisadventureswouldnotendwhenhehadfoundhim.

Buthowwashetofindhim?OnthisthegreatValentin'sideaswerestillinprocessofsettlement.

TherewasonethingwhichFlambeau,withallhisdexterityofdisguise,couldnotcover,andthatwashissingularheight.IfValentin'squickeyehadcaughtatallapple-woman,atallgrenadier,orevenatolerablytallduchess,hemighthavearrestedthemonthespot.ButallalonghistraintherewasnobodythatcouldbeadisguisedFlambeau,anymorethanacat

couldbeadisguisedgiraffe.Aboutthepeopleontheboathehadalreadysatisfiedhimself;andthepeoplepickedupatHarwichoronthejourneylimitedthemselveswithcertaintytosix.Therewasashortrailwayofficialtravellinguptotheterminus,threefairlyshortmarketgardenerspickeduptwostationsafterwards,oneveryshortwidowladygoingupfromasmallEssextown,andaveryshortRomanCatholicpriestgoingupfromasmallEssexvillage.Whenitcametothelastcase,Valentingaveitupandalmostlaughed.ThelittlepriestwassomuchtheessenceofthoseEasternflats;hehadafaceasroundanddullasaNorfolkdumpling;hehadeyesasemptyastheNorthSea;hehadseveralbrownpaperparcels,whichhewasquiteincapableofcollecting.TheEucharisticCongresshaddoubtlesssuckedoutoftheirlocal

stagnationmanysuchcreatures,blindandhelpless,likemolesdisinterred.ValentinwasascepticintheseverestyleofFrance,andcouldhavenoloveforpriests.Buthecouldhavepityforthem,andthisonemighthaveprovokedpityinanybody.Hehadalarge,shabbyumbrella,whichconstantlyfellonthefloor.Hedidnotseemtoknowwhichwastherightendofhisreturnticket.Heexplainedwithamoon-calfsimplicitytoeverybodyinthecarriagethathehadtobecareful,becausehehadsomethingmadeofrealsilver"withbluestones"inoneofhisbrown-paperparcels.HisquaintblendingofEssexflatnesswith



saintlysimplicitycontinuouslyamusedtheFrenchmantillthepriestarrived(somehow)atTottenhamwithallhisparcels,andcamebackforhisumbrella.Whenhedidthelast,Valentinevenhadthegoodnaturetowarnhimnottotakecareofthesilverbytellingeverybodyaboutit.Buttowhomeverhetalked,Valentinkepthiseyeopenforsomeoneelse;helookedoutsteadilyforanyone,richorpoor,maleorfemale,whowaswelluptosixfeet;forFlambeauwasfourinchesaboveit.

HealightedatLiverpoolStreet,however,quiteconscientiouslysecurethathehadnotmissedthecriminalsofar.HethenwenttoScotlandYardtoregularisehispositionandarrangeforhelpincaseofneed;hethenlitanothercigaretteandwentforalongstrollinthestreetsofLondon.AshewaswalkinginthestreetsandsquaresbeyondVictoria,hepausedsuddenlyandstood.Itwasaquaint,quietsquare,verytypicalofLondon,fullofanaccidentalstillness.Thetall,flathousesroundlookedatonceprosperousanduninhabited;thesquareofshrubberyinthecentrelookedasdesertedasagreenPacificislet.Oneofthefoursideswasmuchhigherthantherest,likeadais;andthelineofthissidewasbrokenbyoneofLondon'sadmirableaccidents--arestaurantthatlookedasifithadstrayedfromSoho.Itwasanunreasonablyattractiveobject,withdwarfplantsinpotsandlong,stripedblindsoflemonyellowandwhite.Itstoodspecially

highabovethestreet,andintheusualpatchworkwayofLondon,aflightofstepsfromthestreetranuptomeetthefrontdooralmostasafire-escapemightrunuptoafirst-floorwindow.Valentinstoodandsmokedinfrontoftheyellow-whiteblindsandconsideredthemlong.

Themostincrediblethingaboutmiraclesisthattheyhappen.Afewcloudsinheavendocometogetherintothestaringshapeofonehumaneye.Atreedoesstandupinthelandscapeofadoubtfuljourneyintheexactandelaborateshapeofanoteofinterrogation.Ihaveseenboththesethingsmyselfwithinthelastfewdays.Nelsondoesdieintheinstantofvictory;andamannamedWilliamsdoesquiteaccidentallymurderamannamed

Williamson;itsoundslikeasortofinfanticide.Inshort,thereisinlifeanelementofelfincoincidencewhichpeoplereckoningontheprosaicmayperpetuallymiss.AsithasbeenwellexpressedintheparadoxofPoe,wisdomshouldreckonontheunforeseen.

AristideValentinwasunfathomablyFrench;andtheFrenchintelligenceisintelligencespeciallyandsolely.Hewasnot"athinkingmachine";forthatisabrainlessphraseofmodernfatalismandmaterialism.Amachineonlyisamachinebecauseitcannotthink.Buthewasathinkingman,andaplainmanatthesametime.Allhiswonderfulsuccesses,thatlookedlikeconjuring,hadbeengainedbyploddinglogic,byclearandcommonplaceFrench

thought.TheFrenchelectrifytheworldnotbystartinganyparadox,theyelectrifyitbycarryingoutatruism.Theycarryatruismsofar--asintheFrenchRevolution.ButexactlybecauseValentinunderstoodreason,heunderstoodthelimitsofreason.Onlyamanwhoknowsnothingofmotorstalksofmotoringwithoutpetrol;onlyamanwhoknowsnothingofreasontalksofreasoningwithoutstrong,undisputedfirstprinciples.Herehehadnostrongfirstprinciples.FlambeauhadbeenmissedatHarwich;andifhewasinLondonatall,hemightbeanythingfromatalltramponWimbledonCommontoatalltoast-masterattheHotelMetropole.



Insuchanakedstateofnescience,Valentinhadaviewandamethodofhisown.

Insuchcaseshereckonedontheunforeseen.Insuchcases,whenhecouldnotfollowthetrainofthereasonable,hecoldlyandcarefullyfollowedthetrainoftheunreasonable.Insteadofgoingtotherightplaces--banks,policestations,rendezvous--hesystematicallywenttothewrongplaces;knockedateveryemptyhouse,turneddowneveryculdesac,wentupeverylaneblockedwithrubbish,wentroundeverycrescentthatledhimuselesslyoutoftheway.Hedefendedthiscrazycoursequitelogically.Hesaidthatifonehadacluethiswastheworstway;butifonehadnoclueatallitwasthebest,becausetherewasjustthechancethatanyodditythatcaughttheeyeofthepursuermightbethesamethathadcaughttheeyeofthepursued.Somewhereamanmustbegin,andithadbetterbejustwhereanothermanmightstop.Somethingaboutthatflightofstepsuptotheshop,somethingaboutthequietudeandquaintnessoftherestaurant,rousedallthedetective'srareromanticfancyandmadehimresolvetostrikeatrandom.Hewentupthesteps,andsittingdownatatablebythewindow,askedforacupofblackcoffee.

Itwashalf-waythroughthemorning,andhehadnotbreakfasted;theslightlitterofotherbreakfastsstoodabouton

thetabletoremindhimofhishunger;andaddingapoachedeggtohisorder,heproceededmusinglytoshakesomewhitesugarintohiscoffee,thinkingallthetimeaboutFlambeau.HerememberedhowFlambeauhadescaped,oncebyapairofnailscissors,andoncebyahouseonfire;oncebyhavingtopayforanunstampedletter,andoncebygettingpeopletolookthroughatelescopeatacometthatmightdestroytheworld.Hethoughthisdetectivebrainasgoodasthecriminal's,whichwastrue.Buthefullyrealisedthedisadvantage."Thecriminalisthecreativeartist;thedetectiveonlythecritic,"hesaidwithasoursmile,andliftedhiscoffeecuptohislipsslowly,andputitdownveryquickly.Hehadputsaltinit.

Helookedatthevesselfromwhichthesilverypowderhadcome;itwascertainlyasugar-basin;asunmistakablymeantforsugarasachampagne-bottleforchampagne.Hewonderedwhytheyshouldkeepsaltinit.Helookedtoseeiftherewereanymoreorthodoxvessels.Yes;thereweretwosalt-cellarsquitefull.Perhapstherewassomespecialityinthecondimentinthesalt-cellars.Hetastedit;itwassugar.Thenhelookedroundattherestaurantwitharefreshedairofinterest,toseeiftherewereanyothertracesofthatsingularartistictastewhichputsthesugarinthesalt-cellarsandthesaltinthesugar-basin.Exceptforanoddsplashofsomedarkfluidononeofthewhite-paperedwalls,thewholeplaceappearedneat,cheerfulandordinary.Herangthebellforthewaiter.

Whenthatofficialhurriedup,fuzzy-hairedandsomewhatblear-eyedatthatearlyhour,thedetective(whowasnotwithoutanappreciationofthesimplerformsofhumour)askedhimtotastethesugarandseeifitwasuptothehighreputationofthehotel.Theresultwasthatthewaiteryawnedsuddenlyandwokeup.

"Doyouplaythisdelicatejokeonyourcustomerseverymorning?"inquiredValentin."Doeschangingthesaltandsugarneverpallonyouasajest?"



Thewaiter,whenthisironygrewclearer,stammeringlyassuredhimthattheestablishmenthadcertainlynosuchintention;itmustbeamostcuriousmistake.Hepickedupthesugar-basinandlookedatit;hepickedupthesalt-cellarandlookedatthat,hisfacegrowingmoreandmorebewildered.Atlastheabruptlyexcusedhimself,andhurryingaway,returnedinafewsecondswiththeproprietor.Theproprietoralsoexaminedthesugar-basinandthenthesalt-cellar;theproprietoralsolookedbewildered.

Suddenlythewaiterseemedtogrowinarticulatewitharushofwords.

"Izink,"hestutteredeagerly,"Izinkitisthosetwoclergy-men."

"Whattwoclergymen?"

"Thetwoclergymen,"saidthewaiter,"thatthrewsoupatthewall."

"Threwsoupatthewall?"repeatedValentin,feelingsurethismustbesomesingularItalianmetaphor.

"Yes,yes,"saidtheattendantexcitedly,andpointedatthedarksplashonthewhitepaper;"threwitoverthereonthewall."

Valentinlookedhisqueryattheproprietor,whocametohisrescuewithfullerreports.

"Yes,sir,"hesaid,"it'squitetrue,thoughIdon'tsupposeithasanythingtodowiththesugarandsalt.Twoclergymencameinanddranksouphereveryearly,assoonastheshuttersweretakendown.Theywerebothveryquiet,respectablepeople;oneofthempaidthebillandwentout;theother,whoseemedaslowercoachaltogether,wassomeminuteslongergettinghisthingstogether.Buthewentatlast.Only,theinstantbeforehe

steppedintothestreethedeliberatelypickeduphiscup,whichhehadonlyhalfemptied,andthrewthesoupslaponthewall.Iwasinthebackroommyself,andsowasthewaiter;soIcouldonlyrushoutintimetofindthewallsplashedandtheshopempty.Itdon'tdoanyparticulardamage,butitwasconfoundedcheek;andItriedtocatchthemeninthestreet.Theyweretoofaroffthough;IonlynoticedtheywentroundthenextcornerintoCarstairsStreet."

Thedetectivewasonhisfeet,hatsettledandstickinhand.Hehadalreadydecidedthatintheuniversaldarknessofhismindhecouldonlyfollowthefirstoddfingerthatpointed;andthisfingerwasoddenough.Payinghisbillandclashingtheglass

doorsbehindhim,hewassoonswingingroundintotheotherstreet.

Itwasfortunatethateveninsuchfeveredmomentshiseyewascoolandquick.Somethinginashop-frontwentbyhimlikeamereflash;yethewentbacktolookatit.Theshopwasapopulargreengrocerandfruiterer's,anarrayofgoodssetoutintheopenairandplainlyticketedwiththeirnamesandprices.Inthetwomostprominentcompartmentsweretwoheaps,oforangesandofnutsrespectively.Ontheheapofnutslayascrapofcardboard,on



whichwaswritteninbold,bluechalk,"Besttangerineoranges,twoapenny."Ontheorangeswastheequallyclearandexactdescription,"FinestBrazilnuts,4d.alb."M.Valentinlookedatthesetwoplacardsandfanciedhehadmetthishighlysubtleformofhumourbefore,andthatsomewhatrecently.Hedrewtheattentionofthered-facedfruiterer,whowaslookingrathersullenlyupanddownthestreet,tothisinaccuracyinhisadvertisements.Thefruiterersaidnothing,butsharplyputeachcardintoitsproperplace.Thedetective,leaningelegantlyonhiswalking-cane,continuedtoscrutinisetheshop.Atlasthesaid,"Prayexcusemyapparentirrelevance,mygoodsir,butIshouldliketoaskyouaquestioninexperimentalpsychologyandtheassociationofideas."

Thered-facedshopmanregardedhimwithaneyeofmenace;buthecontinuedgaily,swinginghiscane,"Why,"hepursued,"whyaretwoticketswronglyplacedinagreengrocer'sshoplikeashovelhatthathascometoLondonforaholiday?Or,incaseIdonotmakemyselfclear,whatisthemysticalassociationwhichconnectstheideaofnutsmarkedasorangeswiththeideaoftwoclergymen,onetallandtheothershort?"

Theeyesofthetradesmanstoodoutofhisheadlikeasnail's;hereallyseemedforaninstantlikelytoflinghimself

uponthestranger.Atlasthestammeredangrily:"Idon'tknowwhatyou'avetodowithit,butifyou'reoneoftheirfriends,youcantell'emfrommethatI'llknocktheirsilly'eadsoff,parsonsornoparsons,iftheyupsetmyapplesagain."

"Indeed?"askedthedetective,withgreatsympathy."Didtheyupsetyourapples?"

"Oneof'emdid,"saidtheheatedshopman;"rolled'emalloverthestreet.I'd'avecaughtthefoolbutforhavin'topick'emup."

"Whichwaydidtheseparsonsgo?"askedValentin.

"Upthatsecondroadontheleft-handside,andthenacrossthesquare,"saidtheotherpromptly.

"Thanks,"repliedValentin,andvanishedlikeafairy.Ontheothersideofthesecondsquarehefoundapoliceman,andsaid:"Thisisurgent,constable;haveyouseentwoclergymeninshovelhats?"

Thepolicemanbegantochuckleheavily."I'ave,sir;andifyouarstme,oneof'emwasdrunk.Hestoodinthemiddleoftheroadthatbewilderedthat--"

"Whichwaydidtheygo?"snappedValentin.

"Theytookoneofthemyellowbusesoverthere,"answeredtheman;"themthatgotoHampstead."

Valentinproducedhisofficialcardandsaidveryrapidly:"Calluptwoofyourmentocomewithmeinpursuit,"andcrossedtheroadwithsuchcontagiousenergythattheponderouspolicemanwasmovedtoalmostagileobedience.InaminuteandahalftheFrenchdetectivewasjoinedontheoppositepavementbyan



inspectorandamaninplainclothes.

"Well,sir,"begantheformer,withsmilingimportance,"andwhatmay--?"

Valentinpointedsuddenlywithhiscane."I'lltellyouonthetopofthatomnibus,"hesaid,andwasdartinganddodgingacrossthetangleofthetraffic.Whenallthreesankpantingonthetopseatsoftheyellowvehicle,theinspectorsaid:"Wecouldgofourtimesasquickinataxi."

"Quitetrue,"repliedtheirleaderplacidly,"ifweonlyhadanideaofwhereweweregoing."

"Well,whereareyougoing?"askedtheother,staring.

Valentinsmokedfrowninglyforafewseconds;then,removinghiscigarette,hesaid:"Ifyouknowwhataman'sdoing,getinfrontofhim;butifyouwanttoguesswhathe'sdoing,keepbehindhim.Straywhenhestrays;stopwhenhestops;travelasslowlyashe.Thenyoumayseewhathesawandmayactasheacted.Allwecandoistokeepoureyesskinnedforaqueerthing."

"Whatsortofqueerthingdoyoumean?"askedtheinspector."Anysortofqueerthing,"answeredValentin,andrelapsedintoobstinatesilence.

Theyellowomnibuscrawledupthenorthernroadsforwhatseemedlikehoursonend;thegreatdetectivewouldnotexplainfurther,andperhapshisassistantsfeltasilentandgrowingdoubtofhiserrand.Perhaps,also,theyfeltasilentandgrowingdesireforlunch,forthehourscreptlongpastthenormalluncheonhour,andthelongroadsoftheNorthLondonsuburbsseemedtoshootoutintolengthafterlengthlikeaninfernaltelescope.Itwasoneofthosejourneysonwhichamanperpetuallyfeelsthat

nowatlasthemusthavecometotheendoftheuniverse,andthenfindshehasonlycometothebeginningofTufnellPark.Londondiedawayindraggledtavernsanddrearyscrubs,andthenwasunaccountablybornagaininblazinghighstreetsandblatanthotels.Itwaslikepassingthroughthirteenseparatevulgarcitiesalljusttouchingeachother.Butthoughthewintertwilightwasalreadythreateningtheroadaheadofthem,theParisiandetectivestillsatsilentandwatchful,eyeingthefrontageofthestreetsthatslidbyoneitherside.BythetimetheyhadleftCamdenTownbehind,thepolicemenwerenearlyasleep;atleast,theygavesomethinglikeajumpasValentinleapterect,struckahandoneachman'sshoulder,andshoutedtothedrivertostop.

Theytumbleddownthestepsintotheroadwithoutrealisingwhytheyhadbeendislodged;whentheylookedroundforenlightenmenttheyfoundValentintriumphantlypointinghisfingertowardsawindowontheleftsideoftheroad.Itwasalargewindow,formingpartofthelongfacadeofagiltandpalatialpublic-house;itwasthepartreservedforrespectabledining,andlabelled"Restaurant."Thiswindow,likealltherestalongthefrontageofthehotel,wasoffrostedandfiguredglass;butinthemiddleofitwasabig,blacksmash,likeastarintheice.



"Ourcueatlast,"criedValentin,wavinghisstick;"theplacewiththebrokenwindow."

"Whatwindow?Whatcue?"askedhisprincipalassistant."Why,whatproofistherethatthishasanythingtodowiththem?"

Valentinalmostbrokehisbamboostickwithrage.

"Proof!"hecried."GoodGod!themanislookingforproof!Why,ofcourse,thechancesaretwentytoonethatithasnothingtodowiththem.Butwhatelsecanwedo?Don'tyouseewemusteitherfollowonewildpossibilityorelsegohometobed?"Hebangedhiswayintotherestaurant,followedbyhiscompanions,andtheyweresoonseatedatalateluncheonatalittletable,andlookedatthestarofsmashedglassfromtheinside.Notthatitwasveryinformativetothemeventhen.

"Gotyourwindowbroken,Isee,"saidValentintothewaiterashepaidthebill.

"Yes,sir,"answeredtheattendant,bendingbusilyoverthechange,towhichValentinsilentlyaddedanenormoustip.Thewaiterstraightenedhimselfwithmildbutunmistakableanimation.

"Ah,yes,sir,"hesaid."Veryoddthing,that,sir."

"Indeed?"Tellusaboutit,"saidthedetectivewithcarelesscuriosity.

"Well,twogentsinblackcamein,"saidthewaiter;"twoofthoseforeignparsonsthatarerunningabout.Theyhadacheapandquietlittlelunch,andoneofthempaidforitandwentout.TheotherwasjustgoingouttojoinhimwhenIlookedatmychangeagainandfoundhe'dpaidmemorethanthreetimestoomuch.`Here,'Isaystothechapwhowasnearlyoutofthedoor,`you'vepaidtoomuch.'`Oh,'hesays,verycool,`havewe?'

'Yes,'Isays,andpicksupthebilltoshowhim.Well,thatwasaknock-out."

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedhisinterlocutor.

"Well,I'dhaveswornonsevenBiblesthatI'dput4s.onthatbill.ButnowIsawI'dput14s.,asplainaspaint."

"Well?"criedValentin,movingslowly,butwithburningeyes,"andthen?"

"Theparsonatthedoorhesaysallserene,`Sorrytoconfuseyouraccounts,butit'llpayforthewindow.'`Whatwindow?'I

says.`TheoneI'mgoingtobreak,'hesays,andsmashedthatblessedpanewithhisumbrella."

Allthreeinquirersmadeanexclamation;andtheinspectorsaidunderhisbreath,"Areweafterescapedlunatics?"Thewaiterwentonwithsomerelishfortheridiculousstory:

"Iwassoknockedsillyforasecond,Icouldn'tdoanything.Themanmarchedoutoftheplaceandjoinedhisfriendjustroundthecorner.ThentheywentsoquickupBullockStreetthatI



couldn'tcatchthem,thoughIranroundthebarstodoit."

"BullockStreet,"saidthedetective,andshotupthatthoroughfareasquicklyasthestrangecouplehepursued.

Theirjourneynowtookthemthroughbarebrickwaysliketunnels;streetswithfewlightsandevenwithfewwindows;streetsthatseemedbuiltoutoftheblankbacksofeverythingandeverywhere.Duskwasdeepening,anditwasnoteasyevenfortheLondonpolicementoguessinwhatexactdirectiontheyweretreading.Theinspector,however,wasprettycertainthattheywouldeventuallystrikesomepartofHampsteadHeath.Abruptlyonebulginggas-litwindowbrokethebluetwilightlikeabull's-eyelantern;andValentinstoppedaninstantbeforealittlegarishsweetstuffshop.Afteraninstant'shesitationhewentin;hestoodamidthegaudycoloursoftheconfectionerywithentiregravityandboughtthirteenchocolatecigarswithacertaincare.Hewasclearlypreparinganopening;buthedidnotneedone.

Anangular,elderlyyoungwomanintheshophadregardedhiselegantappearancewithamerelyautomaticinquiry;butwhenshesawthedoorbehindhimblockedwiththeblueuniformoftheinspector,hereyesseemedtowakeup.

"Oh,"shesaid,"ifyou'vecomeaboutthatparcel,I'vesentitoffalready."

"Parcel?"repeatedValentin;anditwashisturntolookinquiring.

"Imeantheparcelthegentlemanleft--theclergymangentleman."

"Forgoodness'sake,"saidValentin,leaningforwardwithhisfirstrealconfessionofeagerness,"forHeaven'ssaketelluswhathappenedexactly."

"Well,"saidthewomanalittledoubtfully,"theclergymencameinabouthalfanhouragoandboughtsomepeppermintsandtalkedabit,andthenwentofftowardstheHeath.Butasecondafter,oneofthemrunsbackintotheshopandsays,`HaveIleftaparcel!'Well,Ilookedeverywhereandcouldn'tseeone;sohesays,`Nevermind;butifitshouldturnup,pleasepostittothisaddress,'andheleftmetheaddressandashillingformytrouble.Andsureenough,thoughIthoughtI'dlookedeverywhere,Ifoundhe'dleftabrownpaperparcel,soIpostedittotheplacehesaid.Ican'tremembertheaddressnow;itwassomewhereinWestminster.Butasthethingseemedsoimportant,Ithoughtperhapsthepolicehadcomeaboutit."

"Sotheyhave,"saidValentinshortly."IsHampsteadHeathnearhere?"

"Straightonforfifteenminutes,"saidthewoman,"andyou'llcomerightoutontheopen."Valentinsprangoutoftheshopandbegantorun.Theotherdetectivesfollowedhimatareluctanttrot.

Thestreettheythreadedwassonarrowandshutinbyshadowsthatwhentheycameoutunexpectedlyintothevoidcommonandvast



skytheywerestartledtofindtheeveningstillsolightandclear.Aperfectdomeofpeacock-greensankintogoldamidtheblackeningtreesandthedarkvioletdistances.Theglowinggreentintwasjustdeepenoughtopickoutinpointsofcrystaloneortwostars.AllthatwasleftofthedaylightlayinagoldenglitteracrosstheedgeofHampsteadandthatpopularhollowwhichiscalledtheValeofHealth.Theholidaymakerswhoroamthisregionhadnotwhollydispersed;afewcouplessatshapelesslyonbenches;andhereandthereadistantgirlstillshriekedinoneoftheswings.Thegloryofheavendeepenedanddarkenedaroundthesublimevulgarityofman;andstandingontheslopeandlookingacrossthevalley,Valentinbeheldthethingwhichhesought.

Amongtheblackandbreakinggroupsinthatdistancewasoneespeciallyblackwhichdidnotbreak--agroupoftwofiguresclericallyclad.Thoughtheyseemedassmallasinsects,Valentincouldseethatoneofthemwasmuchsmallerthantheother.Thoughtheotherhadastudent'sstoopandaninconspicuousmanner,hecouldseethatthemanwaswelloversixfeethigh.Heshuthisteethandwentforward,whirlinghisstickimpatiently.Bythetimehehadsubstantiallydiminishedthedistanceandmagnifiedthetwoblackfiguresasinavastmicroscope,hehadperceivedsomethingelse;somethingwhichstartledhim,andyetwhichhehadsomehowexpected.Whoeverwasthetallpriest,there

couldbenodoubtabouttheidentityoftheshortone.ItwashisfriendoftheHarwichtrain,thestumpylittlecureofEssexwhomhehadwarnedabouthisbrownpaperparcels.

Now,sofarasthiswent,everythingfittedinfinallyandrationallyenough.ValentinhadlearnedbyhisinquiriesthatmorningthataFatherBrownfromEssexwasbringingupasilvercrosswithsapphires,arelicofconsiderablevalue,toshowsomeoftheforeignpriestsatthecongress.Thisundoubtedlywasthe"silverwithbluestones";andFatherBrownundoubtedlywasthelittlegreenhorninthetrain.NowtherewasnothingwonderfulaboutthefactthatwhatValentinhadfoundoutFlambeauhadalsofoundout;Flambeaufoundouteverything.Alsotherewasnothing

wonderfulinthefactthatwhenFlambeauheardofasapphirecrossheshouldtrytostealit;thatwasthemostnaturalthinginallnaturalhistory.AndmostcertainlytherewasnothingwonderfulaboutthefactthatFlambeaushouldhaveitallhisownwaywithsuchasillysheepasthemanwiththeumbrellaandtheparcels.HewasthesortofmanwhomanybodycouldleadonastringtotheNorthPole;itwasnotsurprisingthatanactorlikeFlambeau,dressedasanotherpriest,couldleadhimtoHampsteadHeath.Sofarthecrimeseemedclearenough;andwhilethedetectivepitiedthepriestforhishelplessness,healmostdespisedFlambeauforcondescendingtosogullibleavictim.ButwhenValentinthoughtofallthathadhappenedinbetween,ofallthathadledhimtohistriumph,herackedhisbrainsforthesmallestrhymeorreason

init.Whathadthestealingofablue-and-silvercrossfromapriestfromEssextodowithchuckingsoupatwallpaper?Whathadittodowithcallingnutsoranges,orwithpayingforwindowsfirstandbreakingthemafterwards?Hehadcometotheendofhischase;yetsomehowhehadmissedthemiddleofit.Whenhefailed(whichwasseldom),hehadusuallygraspedtheclue,butneverthelessmissedthecriminal.Herehehadgraspedthecriminal,butstillhecouldnotgrasptheclue.

Thetwofiguresthattheyfollowedwerecrawlinglikeblack



fliesacrossthehugegreencontourofahill.Theywereevidentlysunkinconversation,andperhapsdidnotnoticewheretheyweregoing;buttheywerecertainlygoingtothewilderandmoresilentheightsoftheHeath.Astheirpursuersgainedonthem,thelatterhadtousetheundignifiedattitudesofthedeer-stalker,tocrouchbehindclumpsoftreesandeventocrawlprostrateindeepgrass.Bytheseungainlyingenuitiesthehuntersevencamecloseenoughtothequarrytohearthemurmurofthediscussion,butnowordcouldbedistinguishedexcepttheword"reason"recurringfrequentlyinahighandalmostchildishvoice.Onceoveranabruptdipoflandandadensetangleofthickets,thedetectivesactuallylostthetwofigurestheywerefollowing.Theydidnotfindthetrailagainforanagonisingtenminutes,andthenitledroundthebrowofagreatdomeofhilloverlookinganamphitheatreofrichanddesolatesunsetscenery.Underatreeinthiscommandingyetneglectedspotwasanoldramshacklewoodenseat.Onthisseatsatthetwopriestsstillinseriousspeechtogether.Thegorgeousgreenandgoldstillclungtothedarkeninghorizon;butthedomeabovewasturningslowlyfrompeacock-greentopeacock-blue,andthestarsdetachedthemselvesmoreandmorelikesolidjewels.Mutelymotioningtohisfollowers,Valentincontrivedtocreepupbehindthebigbranchingtree,and,standingthereindeathlysilence,heardthewordsofthestrangepriestsforthefirsttime.

Afterhehadlistenedforaminuteandahalf,hewasgrippedbyadevilishdoubt.PerhapshehaddraggedthetwoEnglishpolicementothewastesofanocturnalheathonanerrandnosanerthanseekingfigsonitsthistles.Forthetwopriestsweretalkingexactlylikepriests,piously,withlearningandleisure,aboutthemostaerialenigmasoftheology.ThelittleEssexpriestspokethemoresimply,withhisroundfaceturnedtothestrengtheningstars;theothertalkedwithhisheadbowed,asifhewerenotevenworthytolookatthem.ButnomoreinnocentlyclericalconversationcouldhavebeenheardinanywhiteItaliancloisterorblackSpanishcathedral.

ThefirstheheardwasthetailofoneofFatherBrown'ssentences,whichended:"...whattheyreallymeantintheMiddleAgesbytheheavensbeingincorruptible."

Thetallerpriestnoddedhisbowedheadandsaid:

"Ah,yes,thesemoderninfidelsappealtotheirreason;butwhocanlookatthosemillionsofworldsandnotfeelthattheremaywellbewonderfuluniversesaboveuswherereasonisutterlyunreasonable?"

"No,"saidtheotherpriest;"reasonisalwaysreasonable,eveninthelastlimbo,inthelostborderlandofthings.Iknow

thatpeoplechargetheChurchwithloweringreason,butitisjusttheotherway.Aloneonearth,theChurchmakesreasonreallysupreme.Aloneonearth,theChurchaffirmsthatGodhimselfisboundbyreason."

Theotherpriestraisedhisausterefacetothespangledskyandsaid:

"Yetwhoknowsifinthatinfiniteuniverse--?"



"Onlyinfinitephysically,"saidthelittlepriest,turningsharplyinhisseat,"notinfiniteinthesenseofescapingfromthelawsoftruth."

Valentinbehindhistreewastearinghisfingernailswithsilentfury.HeseemedalmosttohearthesniggersoftheEnglishdetectiveswhomhehadbroughtsofaronafantasticguessonlytolistentothemetaphysicalgossipoftwomildoldparsons.Inhisimpatiencehelosttheequallyelaborateanswerofthetallcleric,andwhenhelistenedagainitwasagainFatherBrownwhowasspeaking:

"Reasonandjusticegriptheremotestandthelonelieststar.Lookatthosestars.Don'ttheylookasiftheyweresinglediamondsandsapphires?Well,youcanimagineanymadbotanyorgeologyyouplease.Thinkofforestsofadamantwithleavesofbrilliants.Thinkthemoonisabluemoon,asingleelephantinesapphire.Butdon'tfancythatallthatfranticastronomywouldmakethesmallestdifferencetothereasonandjusticeofconduct.Onplainsofopal,undercliffscutoutofpearl,youwouldstillfindanotice-board,`Thoushaltnotsteal.'"

Valentinwasjustintheactofrisingfromhisrigidandcrouchingattitudeandcreepingawayassoftlyasmightbe,felled

bytheonegreatfollyofhislife.Butsomethingintheverysilenceofthetallpriestmadehimstopuntilthelatterspoke.Whenatlasthedidspeak,hesaidsimply,hisheadbowedandhishandsonhisknees:

"Well,Ithinkthatotherworldsmayperhapsrisehigherthanourreason.Themysteryofheavenisunfathomable,andIforonecanonlybowmyhead."

Then,withbrowyetbentandwithoutchangingbythefaintestshadehisattitudeorvoice,headded:

"Justhandoverthatsapphirecrossofyours,willyou?We're

allalonehere,andIcouldpullyoutopieceslikeastrawdoll."

Theutterlyunalteredvoiceandattitudeaddedastrangeviolencetothatshockingchangeofspeech.Buttheguarderofthereliconlyseemedtoturnhisheadbythesmallestsectionofthecompass.Heseemedstilltohaveasomewhatfoolishfaceturnedtothestars.Perhapshehadnotunderstood.Or,perhaps,hehadunderstoodandsatrigidwithterror.

"Yes,"saidthetallpriest,inthesamelowvoiceandinthesamestillposture,"yes,IamFlambeau."

Then,afterapause,hesaid:

"Come,willyougivemethatcross?"

"No,"saidtheother,andthemonosyllablehadanoddsound.

Flambeausuddenlyflungoffallhispontificalpretensions.Thegreatrobberleanedbackinhisseatandlaughedlowbutlong.

"No,"hecried,"youwon'tgiveitme,youproudprelate.Youwon'tgiveitme,youlittlecelibatesimpleton.ShallItellyou



whyyouwon'tgiveitme?BecauseI'vegotitalreadyinmyownbreast-pocket."

ThesmallmanfromEssexturnedwhatseemedtobeadazedfaceinthedusk,andsaid,withthetimideagernessof"ThePrivateSecretary":

"Are--areyousure?"

Flambeauyelledwithdelight.

"Really,you'reasgoodasathree-actfarce,"hecried."Yes,youturnip,Iamquitesure.Ihadthesensetomakeaduplicateoftherightparcel,andnow,myfriend,you'vegottheduplicateandI'vegotthejewels.Anolddodge,FatherBrown--averyolddodge."

"Yes,"saidFatherBrown,andpassedhishandthroughhishairwiththesamestrangevaguenessofmanner."Yes,I'veheardofitbefore."

Thecolossusofcrimeleanedovertothelittlerusticpriestwithasortofsuddeninterest.

"Youhaveheardofit?"heasked."Wherehaveyouheardofit?"

"Well,Imustn'ttellyouhisname,ofcourse,"saidthelittlemansimply."Hewasapenitent,youknow.Hehadlivedprosperouslyforabouttwentyyearsentirelyonduplicatebrownpaperparcels.Andso,yousee,whenIbegantosuspectyou,Ithoughtofthispoorchap'swayofdoingitatonce."

"Begantosuspectme?"repeatedtheoutlawwithincreasedintensity."DidyoureallyhavethegumptiontosuspectmejustbecauseIbroughtyouuptothisbarepartoftheheath?"

"No,no,"saidBrownwithanairofapology."Yousee,Isuspectedyouwhenwefirstmet.It'sthatlittlebulgeupthesleevewhereyoupeoplehavethespikedbracelet."

"HowinTartarus,"criedFlambeau,"didyoueverhearofthespikedbracelet?"

"Oh,one'slittleflock,youknow!"saidFatherBrown,archinghiseyebrowsratherblankly."WhenIwasacurateinHartlepool,therewerethreeofthemwithspikedbracelets.So,asIsuspectedyoufromthefirst,don'tyousee,Imadesurethatthecrossshouldgosafe,anyhow.I'mafraidIwatchedyou,youknow.SoatlastIsawyouchangetheparcels.Then,don'tyousee,I

changedthembackagain.AndthenIlefttherightonebehind."

"Leftitbehind?"repeatedFlambeau,andforthefirsttimetherewasanothernoteinhisvoicebesidehistriumph.

"Well,itwaslikethis,"saidthelittlepriest,speakinginthesameunaffectedway."Iwentbacktothatsweet-shopandaskedifI'dleftaparcel,andgavethemaparticularaddressifitturnedup.Well,IknewIhadn't;butwhenIwentawayagainIdid.So,insteadofrunningaftermewiththatvaluableparcel,



theyhavesentitflyingtoafriendofmineinWestminster."Thenheaddedrathersadly:"Ilearntthat,too,fromapoorfellowinHartlepool.Heusedtodoitwithhandbagshestoleatrailwaystations,buthe'sinamonasterynow.Oh,onegetstoknow,youknow,"headded,rubbinghisheadagainwiththesamesortofdesperateapology."Wecan'thelpbeingpriests.Peoplecomeandtellusthesethings."

Flambeautoreabrown-paperparceloutofhisinnerpocketandrentitinpieces.Therewasnothingbutpaperandsticksofleadinsideit.Hesprangtohisfeetwithagiganticgesture,andcried:

"Idon'tbelieveyou.Idon'tbelieveabumpkinlikeyoucouldmanageallthat.Ibelieveyou'vestillgotthestuffonyou,andifyoudon'tgiveitup--why,we'reallalone,andI'lltakeitbyforce!"

"No,"saidFatherBrownsimply,andstoodupalso,"youwon'ttakeitbyforce.First,becauseIreallyhaven'tstillgotit.And,second,becausewearenotalone."

Flambeaustoppedinhisstrideforward.

"Behindthattree,"saidFatherBrown,pointing,"aretwostrongpolicemenandthegreatestdetectivealive.Howdidtheycomehere,doyouask?Why,Ibroughtthem,ofcourse!HowdidIdoit?Why,I'lltellyouifyoulike!Lordblessyou,wehavetoknowtwentysuchthingswhenweworkamongthecriminalclasses!Well,Iwasn'tsureyouwereathief,anditwouldneverdotomakeascandalagainstoneofourownclergy.SoIjusttestedyoutoseeifanythingwouldmakeyoushowyourself.Amangenerallymakesasmallsceneifhefindssaltinhiscoffee;ifhedoesn't,hehassomereasonforkeepingquiet.Ichangedthesaltandsugar,andyoukeptquiet.Amangenerallyobjectsifhisbillisthreetimestoobig.Ifhepaysit,hehassomemotiveforpassingunnoticed.Ialteredyourbill,andyoupaidit."

TheworldseemedwaitingforFlambeautoleaplikeatiger.Buthewasheldbackasbyaspell;hewasstunnedwiththeutmostcuriosity.

"Well,"wentonFatherBrown,withlumberinglucidity,"asyouwouldn'tleaveanytracksforthepolice,ofcoursesomebodyhadto.Ateveryplacewewentto,Itookcaretodosomethingthatwouldgetustalkedaboutfortherestoftheday.Ididn'tdomuchharm--asplashedwall,spiltapples,abrokenwindow;butIsavedthecross,asthecrosswillalwaysbesaved.ItisatWestminsterbynow.Iratherwonderyoudidn'tstopitwiththeDonkey'sWhistle."

"Withthewhat?"askedFlambeau.

"I'mgladyou'veneverheardofit,"saidthepriest,makingaface."It'safoulthing.I'msureyou'retoogoodamanforaWhistler.Icouldn'thavecountereditevenwiththeSpotsmyself;I'mnotstrongenoughinthelegs."

"Whatonearthareyoutalkingabout?"askedtheother.



"Well,Ididthinkyou'dknowtheSpots,"saidFatherBrown,agreeablysurprised."Oh,youcan'thavegonesoverywrongyet!"

"Howinblazesdoyouknowallthesehorrors?"criedFlambeau.

Theshadowofasmilecrossedtheround,simplefaceofhisclericalopponent.

"Oh,bybeingacelibatesimpleton,Isuppose,"hesaid."Hasitneverstruckyouthatamanwhodoesnexttonothingbuthearmen'srealsinsisnotlikelytobewhollyunawareofhumanevil?But,asamatteroffact,anotherpartofmytrade,too,mademesureyouweren'tapriest."

"What?"askedthethief,almostgaping.

"Youattackedreason,"saidFatherBrown."It'sbadtheology."

Andevenasheturnedawaytocollecthisproperty,thethreepolicemencameoutfromunderthetwilighttrees.Flambeauwasanartistandasportsman.HesteppedbackandsweptValentinagreatbow.

"Donotbowtome,monami,"saidValentinwithsilver

clearness."Letusbothbowtoourmaster."AndtheybothstoodaninstantuncoveredwhilethelittleEssexpriestblinkedaboutforhisumbrella.

TheSecretGarden

AristideValentin,ChiefoftheParisPolice,waslateforhisdinner,andsomeofhisguestsbegantoarrivebeforehim.Thesewere,however,reassuredbyhisconfidentialservant,Ivan,the

oldmanwithascar,andafacealmostasgreyashismoustaches,whoalwayssatatatableintheentrancehall--ahallhungwithweapons.Valentin'shousewasperhapsaspeculiarandcelebratedasitsmaster.Itwasanoldhouse,withhighwallsandtallpoplarsalmostoverhangingtheSeine;buttheoddity--andperhapsthepolicevalue--ofitsarchitecturewasthis:thattherewasnoultimateexitatallexceptthroughthisfrontdoor,whichwasguardedbyIvanandthearmoury.Thegardenwaslargeandelaborate,andthereweremanyexitsfromthehouseintothegarden.Buttherewasnoexitfromthegardenintotheworldoutside;allrounditranatall,smooth,unscalablewallwithspecialspikesatthetop;nobadgarden,perhaps,foramantoreflectinwhomsomehundredcriminalshadsworntokill.

AsIvanexplainedtotheguests,theirhosthadtelephonedthathewasdetainedfortenminutes.Hewas,intruth,makingsomelastarrangementsaboutexecutionsandsuchuglythings;andthoughthesedutieswererootedlyrepulsivetohim,healwaysperformedthemwithprecision.Ruthlessinthepursuitofcriminals,hewasverymildabouttheirpunishment.SincehehadbeensupremeoverFrench--andlargelyoverEuropean--policialmethods,hisgreatinfluencehadbeenhonourablyusedforthemitigationofsentencesandthepurificationofprisons.Hewas



oneofthegreathumanitarianFrenchfreethinkers;andtheonlythingwrongwiththemisthattheymakemercyevencolderthanjustice.

WhenValentinarrivedhewasalreadydressedinblackclothesandtheredrosette--anelegantfigure,hisdarkbeardalreadystreakedwithgrey.Hewentstraightthroughhishousetohisstudy,whichopenedonthegroundsbehind.Thegardendoorofitwasopen,andafterhehadcarefullylockedhisboxinitsofficialplace,hestoodforafewsecondsattheopendoorlookingoutuponthegarden.Asharpmoonwasfightingwiththeflyingragsandtattersofastorm,andValentinregardeditwithawistfulnessunusualinsuchscientificnaturesashis.Perhapssuchscientificnatureshavesomepsychicprevisionofthemosttremendousproblemoftheirlives.Fromanysuchoccultmood,atleast,hequicklyrecovered,forheknewhewaslate,andthathisguestshadalreadybeguntoarrive.Aglanceathisdrawing-roomwhenheentereditwasenoughtomakecertainthathisprincipalguestwasnotthere,atanyrate.Hesawalltheotherpillarsofthelittleparty;hesawLordGalloway,theEnglishAmbassador--acholericoldmanwitharussetfacelikeanapple,wearingtheblueribbonoftheGarter.HesawLadyGalloway,slimandthreadlike,withsilverhairandafacesensitiveandsuperior.Hesawherdaughter,LadyMargaretGraham,apaleandprettygirl

withanelfishfaceandcopper-colouredhair.HesawtheDuchessofMontSt.Michel,black-eyedandopulent,andwithherhertwodaughters,black-eyedandopulentalso.HesawDr.Simon,atypicalFrenchscientist,withglasses,apointedbrownbeard,andaforeheadbarredwiththoseparallelwrinkleswhicharethepenaltyofsuperciliousness,sincetheycomethroughconstantlyelevatingtheeyebrows.HesawFatherBrown,ofCobhole,inEssex,whomhehadrecentlymetinEngland.Hesaw--perhapswithmoreinterestthananyofthese--atallmaninuniform,whohadbowedtotheGallowayswithoutreceivinganyveryheartyacknowledgment,andwhonowadvancedalonetopayhisrespectstohishost.ThiswasCommandantO'Brien,oftheFrenchForeignLegion.Hewasaslimyetsomewhatswaggeringfigure,clean-shaven,dark-haired,

andblue-eyed,and,asseemednaturalinanofficerofthatfamousregimentofvictoriousfailuresandsuccessfulsuicides,hehadanairatoncedashingandmelancholy.HewasbybirthanIrishgentleman,andinboyhoodhadknowntheGalloways--especiallyMargaretGraham.Hehadlefthiscountryaftersomecrashofdebts,andnowexpressedhiscompletefreedomfromBritishetiquettebyswingingaboutinuniform,sabreandspurs.WhenhebowedtotheAmbassador'sfamily,LordandLadyGallowaybentstiffly,andLadyMargaretlookedaway.

Butforwhateveroldcausessuchpeoplemightbeinterestedineachother,theirdistinguishedhostwasnotspeciallyinterestedinthem.Nooneofthematleastwasinhiseyestheguestofthe

evening.Valentinwasexpecting,forspecialreasons,amanofworld-widefame,whosefriendshiphehadsecuredduringsomeofhisgreatdetectivetoursandtriumphsintheUnitedStates.HewasexpectingJuliusK.Brayne,thatmulti-millionairewhosecolossalandevencrushingendowmentsofsmallreligionshaveoccasionedsomucheasysportandeasiersolemnityfortheAmericanandEnglishpapers.NobodycouldquitemakeoutwhetherMr.BraynewasanatheistoraMormonoraChristianScientist;buthewasreadytopourmoneyintoanyintellectualvessel,solongasitwasanuntriedvessel.Oneofhishobbieswastowait



fortheAmericanShakespeare--ahobbymorepatientthanangling.HeadmiredWaltWhitman,butthoughtthatLukeP.Tanner,ofParis,Pa.,wasmore"progressive"thanWhitmananyday.Helikedanythingthathethought"progressive."HethoughtValentin"progressive,"therebydoinghimagraveinjustice.

ThesolidappearanceofJuliusK.Brayneintheroomwasasdecisiveasadinnerbell.Hehadthisgreatquality,whichveryfewofuscanclaim,thathispresencewasasbigashisabsence.Hewasahugefellow,asfatashewastall,cladincompleteeveningblack,withoutsomuchreliefasawatch-chainoraring.HishairwaswhiteandwellbrushedbacklikeaGerman's;hisfacewasred,fierceandcherubic,withonedarktuftunderthelowerlipthatthrewupthatotherwiseinfantilevisagewithaneffecttheatricalandevenMephistophelean.Notlong,however,didthatsalonmerelystareatthecelebratedAmerican;hislatenesshadalreadybecomeadomesticproblem,andhewassentwithallspeedintothedining-roomwithLadyGallowayonhisarm.

ExceptononepointtheGallowaysweregenialandcasualenough.SolongasLadyMargaretdidnottakethearmofthatadventurerO'Brien,herfatherwasquitesatisfied;andshehadnotdoneso,shehaddecorouslygoneinwithDr.Simon.Nevertheless,oldLordGallowaywasrestlessandalmostrude.He

wasdiplomaticenoughduringdinner,butwhen,overthecigars,threeoftheyoungermen--Simonthedoctor,Brownthepriest,andthedetrimentalO'Brien,theexileinaforeignuniform--allmeltedawaytomixwiththeladiesorsmokeintheconservatory,thentheEnglishdiplomatistgrewveryundiplomaticindeed.HewasstungeverysixtysecondswiththethoughtthatthescampO'BrienmightbesignallingtoMargaretsomehow;hedidnotattempttoimaginehow.HewasleftoverthecoffeewithBrayne,thehoaryYankeewhobelievedinallreligions,andValentin,thegrizzledFrenchmanwhobelievedinnone.Theycouldarguewitheachother,butneithercouldappealtohim.Afteratimethis"progressive"logomachyhadreachedacrisisoftedium;LordGallowaygotupalsoandsoughtthedrawing-room.Helosthisway

inlongpassagesforsomesixoreightminutes:tillheheardthehigh-pitched,didacticvoiceofthedoctor,andthenthedullvoiceofthepriest,followedbygenerallaughter.Theyalso,hethoughtwithacurse,wereprobablyarguingabout"scienceandreligion."Buttheinstantheopenedthesalondoorhesawonlyonething--hesawwhatwasnotthere.HesawthatCommandantO'Brienwasabsent,andthatLadyMargaretwasabsenttoo.

Risingimpatientlyfromthedrawing-room,ashehadfromthedining-room,hestampedalongthepassageoncemore.HisnotionofprotectinghisdaughterfromtheIrish-Algeriann'er-do-weelhadbecomesomethingcentralandevenmadinhismind.Ashewenttowardsthebackofthehouse,wherewasValentin'sstudy,hewas

surprisedtomeethisdaughter,whosweptpastwithawhite,scornfulface,whichwasasecondenigma.IfshehadbeenwithO'Brien,wherewasO'Brien!IfshehadnotbeenwithO'Brien,wherehadshebeen?Withasortofsenileandpassionatesuspicionhegropedhiswaytothedarkbackpartsofthemansion,andeventuallyfoundaservants'entrancethatopenedontothegarden.Themoonwithherscimitarhadnowrippedupandrolledawayallthestorm-wrack.Theargentlightlitupallfourcornersofthegarden.Atallfigureinbluewasstridingacrossthelawntowardsthestudydoor;aglintofmoonlitsilveronhisfacings



beenasstrongasagorilla,"hemuttered.

Notwithoutashiver,thoughhewasusedtoanatomicalabortions,Dr.Simonliftedthehead.Itwasslightlyslashedabouttheneckandjaw,butthefacewassubstantiallyunhurt.Itwasaponderous,yellowface,atoncesunkenandswollen,withahawk-likenoseandheavylids--afaceofawickedRomanemperor,with,perhaps,adistanttouchofaChineseemperor.Allpresentseemedtolookatitwiththecoldesteyeofignorance.Nothingelsecouldbenotedaboutthemanexceptthat,astheyhadliftedhisbody,theyhadseenunderneathitthewhitegleamofashirt-frontdefacedwitharedgleamofblood.AsDr.Simonsaid,themanhadneverbeenoftheirparty.Buthemightverywellhavebeentryingtojoinit,forhehadcomedressedforsuchanoccasion.

Valentinwentdownonhishandsandkneesandexaminedwithhisclosestprofessionalattentionthegrassandgroundforsometwentyyardsroundthebody,inwhichhewasassistedlessskillfullybythedoctor,andquitevaguelybytheEnglishlord.Nothingrewardedtheirgrovellingsexceptafewtwigs,snappedorchoppedintoverysmalllengths,whichValentinliftedforaninstant'sexaminationandthentossedaway.

"Twigs,"hesaidgravely;"twigs,andatotalstrangerwithhisheadcutoff;thatisallthereisonthislawn."

Therewasanalmostcreepystillness,andthentheunnervedGallowaycalledoutsharply:

"Who'sthat!Who'sthatovertherebythegardenwall!"

Asmallfigurewithafoolishlylargeheaddrewwaveringlyneartheminthemoonlithaze;lookedforaninstantlikeagoblin,butturnedouttobetheharmlesslittlepriestwhomtheyhadleftinthedrawing-room.

"Isay,"hesaidmeekly,"therearenogatestothisgarden,doyouknow."

Valentin'sblackbrowshadcometogethersomewhatcrossly,astheydidonprincipleatthesightofthecassock.Buthewasfartoojustamantodenytherelevanceoftheremark."Youareright,"hesaid."Beforewefindouthowhecametobekilled,wemayhavetofindouthowhecametobehere.Nowlistentome,gentlemen.Ifitcanbedonewithoutprejudicetomypositionandduty,weshallallagreethatcertaindistinguishednamesmightwellbekeptoutofthis.Thereareladies,gentlemen,andthereisaforeignambassador.Ifwemustmarkitdownasacrime,thenitmustbefollowedupasacrime.ButtillthenIcanusemyown

discretion.Iamtheheadofthepolice;IamsopublicthatIcanaffordtobeprivate.PleaseHeaven,IwillcleareveryoneofmyownguestsbeforeIcallinmymentolookforanybodyelse.Gentlemen,uponyourhonour,youwillnoneofyouleavethehousetilltomorrowatnoon;therearebedroomsforall.Simon,Ithinkyouknowwheretofindmyman,Ivan,inthefronthall;heisaconfidentialman.Tellhimtoleaveanotherservantonguardandcometomeatonce.LordGalloway,youarecertainlythebestpersontotelltheladieswhathashappened,andpreventapanic.Theyalsomuststay.FatherBrownandIwillremainwiththe



body."

WhenthisspiritofthecaptainspokeinValentinhewasobeyedlikeabugle.Dr.SimonwentthroughtothearmouryandroutedoutIvan,thepublicdetective'sprivatedetective.Gallowaywenttothedrawing-roomandtoldtheterriblenewstactfullyenough,sothatbythetimethecompanyassembledtheretheladieswerealreadystartledandalreadysoothed.Meanwhilethegoodpriestandthegoodatheiststoodattheheadandfootofthedeadmanmotionlessinthemoonlight,likesymbolicstatuesoftheirtwophilosophiesofdeath.

Ivan,theconfidentialmanwiththescarandthemoustaches,cameoutofthehouselikeacannonball,andcameracingacrossthelawntoValentinlikeadogtohismaster.Hislividfacewasquitelivelywiththeglowofthisdomesticdetectivestory,anditwaswithalmostunpleasanteagernessthatheaskedhismaster'spermissiontoexaminetheremains.

"Yes;look,ifyoulike,Ivan,"saidValentin,"butdon'tbelong.Wemustgoinandthrashthisoutinthehouse."

Ivanliftedthehead,andthenalmostletitdrop.

"Why,"hegasped,"it's--no,itisn't;itcan'tbe.Doyouknowthisman,sir?"

"No,"saidValentinindifferently;"wehadbettergoinside."

Betweenthemtheycarriedthecorpsetoasofainthestudy,andthenallmadetheirwaytothedrawing-room.

Thedetectivesatdownatadeskquietly,andevenwithouthesitation;buthiseyewastheironeyeofajudgeatassize.Hemadeafewrapidnotesuponpaperinfrontofhim,andthensaidshortly:"Iseverybodyhere?"

"NotMr.Brayne,"saidtheDuchessofMontSt.Michel,lookinground.

"No,"saidLordGallowayinahoarse,harshvoice."AndnotMr.NeilO'Brien,Ifancy.Isawthatgentlemanwalkinginthegardenwhenthecorpsewasstillwarm."

"Ivan,"saidthedetective,"goandfetchCommandantO'BrienandMr.Brayne.Mr.Brayne,Iknow,isfinishingacigarinthedining-room;CommandantO'Brien,Ithink,iswalkingupanddowntheconservatory.Iamnotsure."

Thefaithfulattendantflashedfromtheroom,andbefore

anyonecouldstirorspeakValentinwentonwiththesamesoldierlyswiftnessofexposition.

"Everyonehereknowsthatadeadmanhasbeenfoundinthegarden,hisheadcutcleanfromhisbody.Dr.Simon,youhaveexaminedit.Doyouthinkthattocutaman'sthroatlikethatwouldneedgreatforce?Or,perhaps,onlyaverysharpknife?"

"Ishouldsaythatitcouldnotbedonewithaknifeatall,"saidthepaledoctor.



"Haveyouanythought,"resumedValentin,"ofatoolwithwhichitcouldbedone?"

"Speakingwithinmodernprobabilities,Ireallyhaven't,"saidthedoctor,archinghispainfulbrows."It'snoteasytohackaneckthroughevenclumsily,andthiswasaverycleancut.Itcouldbedonewithabattle-axeoranoldheadsman'saxe,oranoldtwo-handedsword."

"But,goodheavens!"criedtheDuchess,almostinhysterics,"therearen'tanytwo-handedswordsandbattle-axesroundhere."

Valentinwasstillbusywiththepaperinfrontofhim."Tellme,"hesaid,stillwritingrapidly,"couldithavebeendonewithalongFrenchcavalrysabre?"

Alowknockingcameatthedoor,which,forsomeunreasonablereason,curdledeveryone'sbloodliketheknockinginMacbeth.AmidthatfrozensilenceDr.Simonmanagedtosay:"Asabre--yes,Isupposeitcould."

"Thankyou,"saidValentin."Comein,Ivan."

TheconfidentialIvanopenedthedoorandusheredinCommandantNeilO'Brien,whomhehadfoundatlastpacingthegardenagain.

TheIrishofficerstoodupdisorderedanddefiantonthethreshold."Whatdoyouwantwithme?"hecried.

"Pleasesitdown,"saidValentininpleasant,leveltones."Why,youaren'twearingyoursword.Whereisit?"

"Ileftitonthelibrarytable,"saidO'Brien,hisbroguedeepeninginhisdisturbedmood."Itwasanuisance,itwasgetting--"

"Ivan,"saidValentin,"pleasegoandgettheCommandant'sswordfromthelibrary."Then,astheservantvanished,"LordGallowaysayshesawyouleavingthegardenjustbeforehefoundthecorpse.Whatwereyoudoinginthegarden?"

TheCommandantflunghimselfrecklesslyintoachair."Oh,"hecriedinpureIrish,"admirin'themoon.CommuningwithNature,mebhoy."

Aheavysilencesankandendured,andattheendofitcameagainthattrivialandterribleknocking.Ivanreappeared,carryinganemptysteelscabbard."ThisisallIcanfind,"hesaid.

"Putitonthetable,"saidValentin,withoutlookingup.

Therewasaninhumansilenceintheroom,likethatseaofinhumansilenceroundthedockofthecondemnedmurderer.TheDuchess'sweakexclamationshadlongagodiedaway.LordGalloway'sswollenhatredwassatisfiedandevensobered.Thevoicethatcamewasquiteunexpected.

"IthinkIcantellyou,"criedLadyMargaret,inthatclear,



quiveringvoicewithwhichacourageouswomanspeakspublicly."IcantellyouwhatMr.O'Brienwasdoinginthegarden,sinceheisboundtosilence.Hewasaskingmetomarryhim.Irefused;IsaidinmyfamilycircumstancesIcouldgivehimnothingbutmyrespect.Hewasalittleangryatthat;hedidnotseemtothinkmuchofmyrespect.Iwonder,"sheadded,withratherawansmile,"ifhewillcareatallforitnow.ForIofferithimnow.Iwillswearanywherethatheneverdidathinglikethis."

LordGallowayhadedgeduptohisdaughter,andwasintimidatingherinwhatheimaginedtobeanundertone."Holdyourtongue,Maggie,"hesaidinathunderouswhisper."Whyshouldyoushieldthefellow?Where'shissword?Where'shisconfoundedcavalry--"

Hestoppedbecauseofthesingularstarewithwhichhisdaughterwasregardinghim,alookthatwasindeedaluridmagnetforthewholegroup.

"Youoldfool!"shesaidinalowvoicewithoutpretenceofpiety,"whatdoyousupposeyouaretryingtoprove?Itellyouthismanwasinnocentwhilewithme.Butifhewasn'tinnocent,hewasstillwithme.Ifhemurderedamaninthegarden,whowasitwhomusthaveseen--whomustatleasthaveknown?Doyou

hateNeilsomuchastoputyourowndaughter--"LadyGallowayscreamed.Everyoneelsesattinglingatthetouchofthosesatanictragediesthathavebeenbetweenloversbeforenow.Theysawtheproud,whitefaceoftheScotcharistocratandherlover,theIrishadventurer,likeoldportraitsinadarkhouse.Thelongsilencewasfullofformlesshistoricalmemoriesofmurderedhusbandsandpoisonousparamours.

Inthecentreofthismorbidsilenceaninnocentvoicesaid:"Wasitaverylongcigar?"

Thechangeofthoughtwassosharpthattheyhadtolookround

toseewhohadspoken.

"Imean,"saidlittleFatherBrown,fromthecorneroftheroom,"ImeanthatcigarMr.Brayneisfinishing.Itseemsnearlyaslongasawalking-stick."

DespitetheirrelevancetherewasassentaswellasirritationinValentin'sfaceasheliftedhishead.

"Quiteright,"heremarkedsharply."Ivan,goandseeaboutMr.Brayneagain,andbringhimhereatonce."

Theinstantthefactotumhadclosedthedoor,Valentin

addressedthegirlwithanentirelynewearnestness.

"LadyMargaret,"hesaid,"weallfeel,Iamsure,bothgratitudeandadmirationforyouractinrisingaboveyourlowerdignityandexplainingtheCommandant'sconduct.Butthereisahiatusstill.LordGalloway,Iunderstand,metyoupassingfromthestudytothedrawing-room,anditwasonlysomeminutesafterwardsthathefoundthegardenandtheCommandantstillwalkingthere."



"Youhavetoremember,"repliedMargaret,withafaintironyinhervoice,"thatIhadjustrefusedhim,soweshouldscarcelyhavecomebackarminarm.Heisagentleman,anyhow;andheloiteredbehind--andsogotchargedwithmurder."

"Inthosefewmoments,"saidValentingravely,"hemightreally--"

Theknockcameagain,andIvanputinhisscarredface.

"Begpardon,sir,"hesaid,"butMr.Braynehasleftthehouse."

"Left!"criedValentin,androseforthefirsttimetohisfeet.

"Gone.Scooted.Evaporated,"repliedIvaninhumorousFrench."Hishatandcoataregone,too,andI'lltellyousomethingtocapitall.Iranoutsidethehousetofindanytracesofhim,andIfoundone,andabigtrace,too."

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedValentin.

"I'llshowyou,"saidhisservant,andreappearedwitha

flashingnakedcavalrysabre,streakedwithbloodaboutthepointandedge.Everyoneintheroomeyeditasifitwereathunderbolt;buttheexperiencedIvanwentonquitequietly:

"Ifoundthis,"hesaid,"flungamongthebushesfiftyyardsuptheroadtoParis.Inotherwords,IfounditjustwhereyourrespectableMr.Braynethrewitwhenheranaway."

Therewasagainasilence,butofanewsort.Valentintookthesabre,examinedit,reflectedwithunaffectedconcentrationofthought,andthenturnedarespectfulfacetoO'Brien."Commandant,"hesaid,"wetrustyouwillalwaysproducethisweaponifitiswantedforpoliceexamination.Meanwhile,"he

added,slappingthesteelbackintheringingscabbard,"letmereturnyouyoursword."

Atthemilitarysymbolismoftheactiontheaudiencecouldhardlyrefrainfromapplause.

ForNeilO'Brien,indeed,thatgesturewastheturning-pointofexistence.Bythetimehewaswanderinginthemysteriousgardenagaininthecoloursofthemorningthetragicfutilityofhisordinarymienhadfallenfromhim;hewasamanwithmanyreasonsforhappiness.LordGallowaywasagentleman,andhadofferedhimanapology.LadyMargaretwassomethingbetterthanalady,awomanatleast,andhadperhapsgivenhimsomethingbetter

thananapology,astheydriftedamongtheoldflowerbedsbeforebreakfast.Thewholecompanywasmorelightheartedandhumane,forthoughtheriddleofthedeathremained,theloadofsuspicionwasliftedoffthemall,andsentflyingofftoPariswiththestrangemillionaire--amantheyhardlyknew.Thedevilwascastoutofthehouse--hehadcasthimselfout.

Still,theriddleremained;andwhenO'BrienthrewhimselfonagardenseatbesideDr.Simon,thatkeenlyscientificpersonatonceresumedit.HedidnotgetmuchtalkoutofO'Brien,whose



thoughtswereonpleasanterthings.

"Ican'tsayitinterestsmemuch,"saidtheIrishmanfrankly,"especiallyasitseemsprettyplainnow.ApparentlyBraynehatedthisstrangerforsomereason;luredhimintothegarden,andkilledhimwithmysword.Thenhefledtothecity,tossingtheswordawayashewent.Bytheway,IvantellsmethedeadmanhadaYankeedollarinhispocket.SohewasacountrymanofBrayne's,andthatseemstoclinchit.Idon'tseeanydifficultiesaboutthebusiness."

"Therearefivecolossaldifficulties,"saidthedoctorquietly;"likehighwallswithinwalls.Don'tmistakeme.Idon'tdoubtthatBraynedidit;hisflight,Ifancy,provesthat.Butastohowhedidit.Firstdifficulty:Whyshouldamankillanothermanwithagreathulkingsabre,whenhecanalmostkillhimwithapocketknifeandputitbackinhispocket?Seconddifficulty:Whywastherenonoiseoroutcry?Doesamancommonlyseeanothercomeupwavingascimitarandoffernoremarks?Thirddifficulty:Aservantwatchedthefrontdooralltheevening;andaratcannotgetintoValentin'sgardenanywhere.Howdidthedeadmangetintothegarden?Fourthdifficulty:Giventhesameconditions,howdidBraynegetoutofthegarden?"

"Andthefifth,"saidNeil,witheyesfixedontheEnglishpriestwhowascomingslowlyupthepath.

"Isatrifle,Isuppose,"saidthedoctor,"butIthinkanoddone.WhenIfirstsawhowtheheadhadbeenslashed,Isupposedtheassassinhadstruckmorethanonce.ButonexaminationIfoundmanycutsacrossthetruncatedsection;inotherwords,theywerestruckaftertheheadwasoff.DidBraynehatehisfoesofiendishlythathestoodsabringhisbodyinthemoonlight?"

"Horrible!"saidO'Brien,andshuddered.

Thelittlepriest,Brown,hadarrivedwhiletheyweretalking,

andhadwaited,withcharacteristicshyness,tilltheyhadfinished.Thenhesaidawkwardly:

"Isay,I'msorrytointerrupt.ButIwassenttotellyouthenews!"

"News?"repeatedSimon,andstaredathimratherpainfullythroughhisglasses.

"Yes,I'msorry,"saidFatherBrownmildly."There'sbeenanothermurder,youknow."

Bothmenontheseatsprangup,leavingitrocking.

"And,what'sstrangerstill,"continuedthepriest,withhisdulleyeontherhododendrons,"it'sthesamedisgustingsort;it'sanotherbeheading.Theyfoundthesecondheadactuallybleedingintotheriver,afewyardsalongBrayne'sroadtoParis;sotheysupposethathe--"

"GreatHeaven!"criedO'Brien."IsBrayneamonomaniac?"

"ThereareAmericanvendettas,"saidthepriestimpassively.



Thenheadded:"Theywantyoutocometothelibraryandseeit."

CommandantO'Brienfollowedtheotherstowardstheinquest,feelingdecidedlysick.Asasoldier,heloathedallthissecretivecarnage;whereweretheseextravagantamputationsgoingtostop?Firstoneheadwashackedoff,andthenanother;inthiscase(hetoldhimselfbitterly)itwasnottruethattwoheadswerebetterthanone.Ashecrossedthestudyhealmoststaggeredatashockingcoincidence.UponValentin'stablelaythecolouredpictureofyetathirdbleedinghead;anditwastheheadofValentinhimself.AsecondglanceshowedhimitwasonlyaNationalistpaper,calledTheGuillotine,whicheveryweekshowedoneofitspoliticalopponentswithrollingeyesandwrithingfeaturesjustafterexecution;forValentinwasananti-clericalofsomenote.ButO'BrienwasanIrishman,withakindofchastityeveninhissins;andhisgorgeroseagainstthatgreatbrutalityoftheintellectwhichbelongsonlytoFrance.HefeltParisasawhole,fromthegrotesquesontheGothicchurchestothegrosscaricaturesinthenewspapers.HerememberedthegiganticjestsoftheRevolution.Hesawthewholecityasoneuglyenergy,fromthesanguinarysketchlyingonValentin'stableuptowhere,aboveamountainandforestofgargoyles,thegreatdevilgrinsonNotreDame.

Thelibrarywaslong,low,anddark;whatlightentereditshotfromunderlowblindsandhadstillsomeoftheruddytingeofmorning.ValentinandhisservantIvanwerewaitingforthemattheupperendofalong,slightly-slopingdesk,onwhichlaythemortalremains,lookingenormousinthetwilight.Thebigblackfigureandyellowfaceofthemanfoundinthegardenconfrontedthemessentiallyunchanged.Thesecondhead,whichhadbeenfishedfromamongtheriverreedsthatmorning,laystreaminganddrippingbesideit;Valentin'smenwerestillseekingtorecovertherestofthissecondcorpse,whichwassupposedtobeafloat.FatherBrown,whodidnotseemtoshareO'Brien'ssensibilitiesintheleast,wentuptothesecondheadandexamineditwithhisblinkingcare.Itwaslittlemorethanamopofwetwhitehair,

fringedwithsilverfireintheredandlevelmorninglight;theface,whichseemedofanugly,empurpledandperhapscriminaltype,hadbeenmuchbatteredagainsttreesorstonesasittossedinthewater.

"Goodmorning,CommandantO'Brien,"saidValentin,withquietcordiality."YouhaveheardofBrayne'slastexperimentinbutchery,Isuppose?"

FatherBrownwasstillbendingovertheheadwithwhitehair,andhesaid,withoutlookingup:

"IsupposeitisquitecertainthatBraynecutoffthishead,

too."

"Well,itseemscommonsense,"saidValentin,withhishandsinhispockets."Killedinthesamewayastheother.Foundwithinafewyardsoftheother.Andslicedbythesameweaponwhichweknowhecarriedaway."

"Yes,yes;Iknow,"repliedFatherBrownsubmissively."Yet,youknow,IdoubtwhetherBraynecouldhavecutoffthishead."



"Whynot?"inquiredDr.Simon,witharationalstare.

"Well,doctor,"saidthepriest,lookingupblinking,"canamancutoffhisownhead?Idon'tknow."

O'Brienfeltaninsaneuniversecrashingabouthisears;butthedoctorsprangforwardwithimpetuouspracticalityandpushedbackthewetwhitehair.

"Oh,there'snodoubtit'sBrayne,"saidthepriestquietly."Hehadexactlythatchipintheleftear."

Thedetective,whohadbeenregardingthepriestwithsteadyandglitteringeyes,openedhisclenchedmouthandsaidsharply:"Youseemtoknowalotabouthim,FatherBrown."

"Ido,"saidthelittlemansimply."I'vebeenaboutwithhimforsomeweeks.Hewasthinkingofjoiningourchurch."

ThestarofthefanaticsprangintoValentin'seyes;hestrodetowardsthepriestwithclenchedhands."And,perhaps,"hecried,withablastingsneer,"perhapshewasalsothinkingofleavingallhismoneytoyourchurch."

"Perhapshewas,"saidBrownstolidly;"itispossible.""Inthatcase,"criedValentin,withadreadfulsmile,"youmayindeedknowagreatdealabouthim.Abouthislifeandabouthis--"

CommandantO'BrienlaidahandonValentin'sarm."Dropthatslanderousrubbish,Valentin,"hesaid,"ortheremaybemoreswordsyet."

ButValentin(underthesteady,humblegazeofthepriest)hadalreadyrecoveredhimself."Well,"hesaidshortly,"people'sprivateopinionscanwait.Yougentlemenarestillboundbyyour

promisetostay;youmustenforceitonyourselves--andoneachother.Ivanherewilltellyouanythingmoreyouwanttoknow;Imustgettobusinessandwritetotheauthorities.Wecan'tkeepthisquietanylonger.Ishallbewritinginmystudyifthereisanymorenews."

"Isthereanymorenews,Ivan?"askedDr.Simon,asthechiefofpolicestrodeoutoftheroom.

"Onlyonemorething,Ithink,sir,"saidIvan,wrinklinguphisgreyoldface,"butthat'simportant,too,initsway.There'sthatoldbufferyoufoundonthelawn,"andhepointedwithoutpretenceofreverenceatthebigblackbodywiththe

yellowhead."We'vefoundoutwhoheis,anyhow."

"Indeed!"criedtheastonisheddoctor,"andwhoishe?"

"HisnamewasArnoldBecker,"saidtheunder-detective,"thoughhewentbymanyaliases.Hewasawanderingsortofscamp,andisknowntohavebeeninAmerica;sothatwaswhereBraynegothisknifeintohim.Wedidn'thavemuchtodowithhimourselves,forheworkedmostlyinGermany.We'vecommunicated,ofcourse,withtheGermanpolice.But,oddlyenough,therewasatwin



brotherofhis,namedLouisBecker,whomwehadagreatdealtodowith.Infact,wefounditnecessarytoguillotinehimonlyyesterday.Well,it'sarumthing,gentlemen,butwhenIsawthatfellowflatonthelawnIhadthegreatestjumpofmylife.IfIhadn'tseenLouisBeckerguillotinedwithmyowneyes,I'dhaveswornitwasLouisBeckerlyingthereinthegrass.Then,ofcourse,IrememberedhistwinbrotherinGermany,andfollowinguptheclue--"

TheexplanatoryIvanstopped,fortheexcellentreasonthatnobodywaslisteningtohim.TheCommandantandthedoctorwerebothstaringatFatherBrown,whohadsprungstifflytohisfeet,andwasholdinghistemplestightlikeamaninsuddenandviolentpain.

"Stop,stop,stop!"hecried;"stoptalkingaminute,forIseehalf.WillGodgivemestrength?Willmybrainmaketheonejumpandseeall?Heavenhelpme!Iusedtobefairlygoodatthinking.IcouldparaphraseanypageinAquinasonce.Willmyheadsplit--orwillitsee?Iseehalf--Ionlyseehalf."

Heburiedhisheadinhishands,andstoodinasortofrigidtortureofthoughtorprayer,whiletheotherthreecouldonlygoonstaringatthislastprodigyoftheirwildtwelvehours.

WhenFatherBrown'shandsfelltheyshowedafacequitefreshandserious,likeachild's.Heheavedahugesigh,andsaid:"Letusgetthissaidanddonewithasquicklyaspossible.Lookhere,thiswillbethequickestwaytoconvinceyouallofthetruth."Heturnedtothedoctor."Dr.Simon,"hesaid,"youhaveastronghead-piece,andIheardyouthismorningaskingthefivehardestquestionsaboutthisbusiness.Well,ifyouwillaskthemagain,Iwillanswerthem."

Simon'spince-nezdroppedfromhisnoseinhisdoubtandwonder,butheansweredatonce."Well,thefirstquestion,youknow,iswhyamanshouldkillanotherwithaclumsysabreatall

whenamancankillwithabodkin?"

"Amancannotbeheadwithabodkin,"saidBrowncalmly,"andforthismurderbeheadingwasabsolutelynecessary."

"Why?"askedO'Brien,withinterest.

"Andthenextquestion?"askedFatherBrown.

"Well,whydidn'tthemancryoutoranything?"askedthedoctor;"sabresingardensarecertainlyunusual."

"Twigs,"saidthepriestgloomily,andturnedtothewindow

whichlookedonthesceneofdeath."Noonesawthepointofthetwigs.Whyshouldtheylieonthatlawn(lookatit)sofarfromanytree?Theywerenotsnappedoff;theywerechoppedoff.Themurdereroccupiedhisenemywithsometrickswiththesabre,showinghowhecouldcutabranchinmid-air,orwhat-not.Then,whilehisenemybentdowntoseetheresult,asilentslash,andtheheadfell."

"Well,"saidthedoctorslowly,"thatseemsplausibleenough.Butmynexttwoquestionswillstumpanyone."



Theprieststillstoodlookingcriticallyoutofthewindowandwaited.

"Youknowhowallthegardenwassealeduplikeanair-tightchamber,"wentonthedoctor."Well,howdidthestrangemangetintothegarden?"

Withoutturninground,thelittlepriestanswered:"Thereneverwasanystrangemaninthegarden."

Therewasasilence,andthenasuddencackleofalmostchildishlaughterrelievedthestrain.TheabsurdityofBrown'sremarkmovedIvantoopentaunts.

"Oh!"hecried;"thenwedidn'tlugagreatfatcorpseontoasofalastnight?Hehadn'tgotintothegarden,Isuppose?"

"Gotintothegarden?"repeatedBrownreflectively."No,notentirely."

"Hangitall,"criedSimon,"amangetsintoagarden,orhedoesn't."

"Notnecessarily,"saidthepriest,withafaintsmile."Whatisthenestquestion,doctor?"

"Ifancyyou'reill,"exclaimedDr.Simonsharply;"butI'llaskthenextquestionifyoulike.HowdidBraynegetoutofthegarden?"

"Hedidn'tgetoutofthegarden,"saidthepriest,stilllookingoutofthewindow.

"Didn'tgetoutofthegarden?"explodedSimon.

"Notcompletely,"saidFatherBrown.

SimonshookhisfistsinafrenzyofFrenchlogic."Amangetsoutofagarden,orhedoesn't,"hecried.

"Notalways,"saidFatherBrown.

Dr.Simonsprangtohisfeetimpatiently."Ihavenotimetospareonsuchsenselesstalk,"hecriedangrily."Ifyoucan'tunderstandamanbeingononesideofawallortheother,Iwon'ttroubleyoufurther."

"Doctor,"saidtheclericverygently,"wehavealwaysgotonverypleasantlytogether.Ifonlyforthesakeofoldfriendship,

stopandtellmeyourfifthquestion."

TheimpatientSimonsankintoachairbythedoorandsaidbriefly:"Theheadandshoulderswerecutaboutinaqueerway.Itseemedtobedoneafterdeath."

"Yes,"saidthemotionlesspriest,"itwasdonesoastomakeyouassumeexactlytheonesimplefalsehoodthatyoudidassume.Itwasdonetomakeyoutakeforgrantedthattheheadbelongedtothebody."



LordGallowaydidnotheartheendof;thatfailing,heledhimoutintothesealedgarden,talkedaboutswordsmanship,usedtwigsandasabreforillustration,and--"

IvanoftheScarsprangup."Youlunatic,"heyelled;"you'llgotomymasternow,ifItakeyouby--"

"Why,Iwasgoingthere,"saidBrownheavily;"Imustaskhimtoconfess,andallthat."

DrivingtheunhappyBrownbeforethemlikeahostageorsacrifice,theyrushedtogetherintothesuddenstillnessofValentin'sstudy.

Thegreatdetectivesatathisdeskapparentlytoooccupiedtoheartheirturbulententrance.Theypausedamoment,andthensomethinginthelookofthatuprightandelegantbackmadethedoctorrunforwardsuddenly.AtouchandaglanceshowedhimthattherewasasmallboxofpillsatValentin'selbow,andthatValentinwasdeadinhischair;andontheblindfaceofthesuicidewasmorethantheprideofCato.

TheQueerFeet

Ifyoumeetamemberofthatselectclub,"TheTwelveTrueFishermen,"enteringtheVernonHotelfortheannualclubdinner,youwillobserve,ashetakesoffhisovercoat,thathiseveningcoatisgreenandnotblack.If(supposingthatyouhavethestar-defyingaudacitytoaddresssuchabeing)youaskhimwhy,hewillprobablyanswerthathedoesittoavoidbeingmistakenforawaiter.Youwillthenretirecrushed.Butyouwillleavebehindyouamysteryasyetunsolvedandataleworthtelling.

If(topursuethesameveinofimprobableconjecture)youwere

tomeetamild,hard-workinglittlepriest,namedFatherBrown,andweretoaskhimwhathethoughtwasthemostsingularluckofhislife,hewouldprobablyreplythatuponthewholehisbeststrokewasattheVernonHotel,wherehehadavertedacrimeand,perhaps,savedasoul,merelybylisteningtoafewfootstepsinapassage.Heisperhapsalittleproudofthiswildandwonderfulguessofhis,anditispossiblethathemightrefertoit.Butsinceitisimmeasurablyunlikelythatyouwilleverrisehighenoughinthesocialworldtofind"TheTwelveTrueFishermen,"orthatyouwilleversinklowenoughamongslumsandcriminalstofindFatherBrown,Ifearyouwillneverhearthestoryatallunlessyouhearitfromme.

TheVernonHotelatwhichTheTwelveTrueFishermenheldtheirannualdinnerswasaninstitutionsuchascanonlyexistinanoligarchicalsocietywhichhasalmostgonemadongoodmanners.Itwasthattopsy-turvyproduct--an"exclusive"commercialenterprise.Thatis,itwasathingwhichpaidnotbyattractingpeople,butactuallybyturningpeopleaway.Intheheartofaplutocracytradesmenbecomecunningenoughtobemorefastidiousthantheircustomers.Theypositivelycreatedifficultiessothattheirwealthyandwearyclientsmayspendmoneyanddiplomacyinovercomingthem.IftherewereafashionablehotelinLondon



whichnomancouldenterwhowasundersixfoot,societywouldmeeklymakeuppartiesofsix-footmentodineinit.IftherewereanexpensiverestaurantwhichbyamerecapriceofitsproprietorwasonlyopenonThursdayafternoon,itwouldbecrowdedonThursdayafternoon.TheVernonHotelstood,asifbyaccident,inthecornerofasquareinBelgravia.Itwasasmallhotel;andaveryinconvenientone.Butitsveryinconvenienceswereconsideredaswallsprotectingaparticularclass.Oneinconvenience,inparticular,washeldtobeofvitalimportance:thefactthatpracticallyonlytwenty-fourpeoplecoulddineintheplaceatonce.Theonlybigdinnertablewasthecelebratedterracetable,whichstoodopentotheaironasortofverandaoverlookingoneofthemostexquisiteoldgardensinLondon.Thusithappenedthateventhetwenty-fourseatsatthistablecouldonlybeenjoyedinwarmweather;andthismakingtheenjoymentyetmoredifficultmadeityetmoredesired.TheexistingownerofthehotelwasaJewnamedLever;andhemadenearlyamillionoutofit,bymakingitdifficulttogetinto.Ofcoursehecombinedwiththislimitationinthescopeofhisenterprisethemostcarefulpolishinitsperformance.ThewinesandcookingwerereallyasgoodasanyinEurope,andthedemeanouroftheattendantsexactlymirroredthefixedmoodoftheEnglishupperclass.Theproprietorknewallhiswaiterslikethefingersonhishand;therewereonlyfifteenofthemalltold.Itwasmuch

easiertobecomeaMemberofParliamentthantobecomeawaiterinthathotel.Eachwaiterwastrainedinterriblesilenceandsmoothness,asifhewereagentleman'sservant.And,indeed,therewasgenerallyatleastonewaitertoeverygentlemanwhodined.

TheclubofTheTwelveTrueFishermenwouldnothaveconsentedtodineanywherebutinsuchaplace,foritinsistedonaluxuriousprivacy;andwouldhavebeenquiteupsetbythemerethoughtthatanyotherclubwasevendininginthesamebuilding.OntheoccasionoftheirannualdinnertheFishermenwereinthehabitofexposingalltheirtreasures,asiftheywereinaprivatehouse,especiallythecelebratedsetoffishknivesand

forkswhichwere,asitwere,theinsigniaofthesociety,eachbeingexquisitelywroughtinsilverintheformofafish,andeachloadedatthehiltwithonelargepearl.Thesewerealwayslaidoutforthefishcourse,andthefishcoursewasalwaysthemostmagnificentinthatmagnificentrepast.Thesocietyhadavastnumberofceremoniesandobservances,butithadnohistoryandnoobject;thatwaswhereitwassoveryaristocratic.YoudidnothavetobeanythinginordertobeoneoftheTwelveFishers;unlessyouwerealreadyacertainsortofperson,youneverevenheardofthem.Ithadbeeninexistencetwelveyears.ItspresidentwasMr.Audley.Itsvice-presidentwastheDukeofChester.

IfIhaveinanydegreeconveyedtheatmosphereofthisappallinghotel,thereadermayfeelanaturalwonderastohowIcametoknowanythingaboutit,andmayevenspeculateastohowsoordinaryapersonasmyfriendFatherBrowncametofindhimselfinthatgoldengalley.Asfarasthatisconcerned,mystoryissimple,orevenvulgar.Thereisintheworldaveryagedrioteranddemagoguewhobreaksintothemostrefinedretreatswiththedreadfulinformationthatallmenarebrothers,andwhereverthislevellerwentonhispalehorseitwasFatherBrown'stradetofollow.Oneofthewaiters,anItalian,hadbeenstruckdownwith



aparalyticstrokethatafternoon;andhisJewishemployer,marvellingmildlyatsuchsuperstitions,hadconsentedtosendforthenearestPopishpriest.WithwhatthewaiterconfessedtoFatherBrownwearenotconcerned,fortheexcellentreasonthatthatclerickeptittohimself;butapparentlyitinvolvedhiminwritingoutanoteorstatementfortheconveyingofsomemessageortherightingofsomewrong.FatherBrown,therefore,withameekimpudencewhichhewouldhaveshownequallyinBuckinghamPalace,askedtobeprovidedwitharoomandwritingmaterials.Mr.Leverwastornintwo.Hewasakindman,andhadalsothatbadimitationofkindness,thedislikeofanydifficultyorscene.Atthesametimethepresenceofoneunusualstrangerinhishotelthateveningwaslikeaspeckofdirtonsomethingjustcleaned.TherewasneveranyborderlandoranteroomintheVernonHotel,nopeoplewaitinginthehall,nocustomerscominginonchance.Therewerefifteenwaiters.Thereweretwelveguests.Itwouldbeasstartlingtofindanewguestinthehotelthatnightastofindanewbrothertakingbreakfastorteainone'sownfamily.Moreover,thepriest'sappearancewassecond-rateandhisclothesmuddy;amereglimpseofhimafaroffmightprecipitateacrisisintheclub.Mr.Leveratlasthitonaplantocover,sincehemightnotobliterate,thedisgrace.Whenyouenter(asyouneverwill)theVernonHotel,youpassdownashortpassagedecoratedwithafewdingybutimportantpictures,andcometothemain

vestibuleandloungewhichopensonyourrightintopassagesleadingtothepublicrooms,andonyourlefttoasimilarpassagepointingtothekitchensandofficesofthehotel.Immediatelyonyourlefthandisthecornerofaglassoffice,whichabutsuponthelounge--ahousewithinahouse,sotospeak,liketheoldhotelbarwhichprobablyonceoccupieditsplace.

Inthisofficesattherepresentativeoftheproprietor(nobodyinthisplaceeverappearedinpersonifhecouldhelpit),andjustbeyondtheoffice,onthewaytotheservants'quarters,wasthegentlemen'scloakroom,thelastboundaryofthegentlemen'sdomain.Butbetweentheofficeandthecloakroomwasasmallprivateroomwithoutotheroutlet,sometimesusedbythe

proprietorfordelicateandimportantmatters,suchaslendingadukeathousandpoundsordecliningtolendhimsixpence.ItisamarkofthemagnificenttoleranceofMr.Leverthathepermittedthisholyplacetobeforabouthalfanhourprofanedbyamerepriest,scribblingawayonapieceofpaper.ThestorywhichFatherBrownwaswritingdownwasverylikelyamuchbetterstorythanthisone,onlyitwillneverbeknown.Icanmerelystatethatitwasverynearlyaslong,andthatthelasttwoorthreeparagraphsofitweretheleastexcitingandabsorbing.

Foritwasbythetimethathehadreachedthesethatthepriestbeganalittletoallowhisthoughtstowanderandhisanimalsenses,whichwerecommonlykeen,toawaken.Thetimeof

darknessanddinnerwasdrawingon;hisownforgottenlittleroomwaswithoutalight,andperhapsthegatheringgloom,asoccasionallyhappens,sharpenedthesenseofsound.AsFatherBrownwrotethelastandleastessentialpartofhisdocument,hecaughthimselfwritingtotherhythmofarecurrentnoiseoutside,justasonesometimesthinkstothetuneofarailwaytrain.Whenhebecameconsciousofthethinghefoundwhatitwas:onlytheordinarypatteroffeetpassingthedoor,whichinanhotelwasnoveryunlikelymatter.Nevertheless,hestaredatthedarkenedceiling,andlistenedtothesound.Afterhehadlistenedfora



fewsecondsdreamily,hegottohisfeetandlistenedintently,withhisheadalittleononeside.Thenhesatdownagainandburiedhisbrowinhishands,nownotmerelylistening,butlisteningandthinkingalso.

Thefootstepsoutsideatanygivenmomentweresuchasonemighthearinanyhotel;andyet,takenasawhole,therewassomethingverystrangeaboutthem.Therewerenootherfootsteps.Itwasalwaysaverysilenthouse,forthefewfamiliarguestswentatoncetotheirownapartments,andthewell-trainedwaitersweretoldtobealmostinvisibleuntiltheywerewanted.Onecouldnotconceiveanyplacewheretherewaslessreasontoapprehendanythingirregular.Butthesefootstepsweresooddthatonecouldnotdecidetocallthemregularorirregular.FatherBrownfollowedthemwithhisfingerontheedgeofthetable,likeamantryingtolearnatuneonthepiano.

First,therecamealongrushofrapidlittlesteps,suchasalightmanmightmakeinwinningawalkingrace.Atacertainpointtheystoppedandchangedtoasortofslow,swingingstamp,numberingnotaquarterofthesteps,butoccupyingaboutthesametime.Themomentthelastechoingstamphaddiedawaywouldcomeagaintherunorrippleoflight,hurryingfeet,andthenagainthethudoftheheavierwalking.Itwascertainlythesamepair

ofboots,partlybecause(ashasbeensaid)therewerenootherbootsabout,andpartlybecausetheyhadasmallbutunmistakablecreakinthem.FatherBrownhadthekindofheadthatcannothelpaskingquestions;andonthisapparentlytrivialquestionhisheadalmostsplit.Hehadseenmenruninordertojump.Hehadseenmenruninordertoslide.Butwhyonearthshouldamanruninordertowalk?Or,again,whyshouldhewalkinordertorun?Yetnootherdescriptionwouldcovertheanticsofthisinvisiblepairoflegs.Themanwaseitherwalkingveryfastdownone-halfofthecorridorinordertowalkveryslowdowntheotherhalf;orhewaswalkingveryslowatoneendtohavetheraptureofwalkingfastattheother.Neithersuggestionseemedtomakemuchsense.Hisbrainwasgrowingdarkeranddarker,likehisroom.

Yet,ashebegantothinksteadily,theveryblacknessofhiscellseemedtomakehisthoughtsmorevivid;hebegantoseeasinakindofvisionthefantasticfeetcaperingalongthecorridorinunnaturalorsymbolicattitudes.Wasitaheathenreligiousdance?Orsomeentirelynewkindofscientificexercise?FatherBrownbegantoaskhimselfwithmoreexactnesswhatthestepssuggested.Takingtheslowstepfirst:itcertainlywasnotthestepoftheproprietor.Menofhistypewalkwitharapidwaddle,ortheysitstill.Itcouldnotbeanyservantormessengerwaitingfordirections.Itdidnotsoundlikeit.Thepoorerorders(inanoligarchy)sometimeslurchaboutwhentheyareslightlydrunk,butgenerally,andespeciallyinsuchgorgeousscenes,theystandor

sitinconstrainedattitudes.No;thatheavyyetspringystep,withakindofcarelessemphasis,notspeciallynoisy,yetnotcaringwhatnoiseitmade,belongedtoonlyoneoftheanimalsofthisearth.ItwasagentlemanofwesternEurope,andprobablyonewhohadneverworkedforhisliving.

Justashecametothissolidcertainty,thestepchangedtothequickerone,andranpastthedoorasfeverishlyasarat.Thelistenerremarkedthatthoughthisstepwasmuchswifteritwasalsomuchmorenoiseless,almostasifthemanwerewalkingon



tiptoe.Yetitwasnotassociatedinhismindwithsecrecy,butwithsomethingelse--somethingthathecouldnotremember.Hewasmaddenedbyoneofthosehalf-memoriesthatmakeamanfeelhalf-witted.Surelyhehadheardthatstrange,swiftwalkingsomewhere.Suddenlyhesprangtohisfeetwithanewideainhishead,andwalkedtothedoor.Hisroomhadnodirectoutletonthepassage,butletononesideintotheglassoffice,andontheotherintothecloakroombeyond.Hetriedthedoorintotheoffice,andfounditlocked.Thenhelookedatthewindow,nowasquarepanefullofpurplecloudcleftbylividsunset,andforaninstanthesmeltevilasadogsmellsrats.

Therationalpartofhim(whetherthewiserornot)regaineditssupremacy.Herememberedthattheproprietorhadtoldhimthatheshouldlockthedoor,andwouldcomelatertoreleasehim.Hetoldhimselfthattwentythingshehadnotthoughtofmightexplaintheeccentricsoundsoutside;heremindedhimselfthattherewasjustenoughlightlefttofinishhisownproperwork.Bringinghispapertothewindowsoastocatchthelaststormyeveninglight,heresolutelyplungedoncemoreintothealmostcompletedrecord.Hehadwrittenforabouttwentyminutes,bendingcloserandclosertohispaperinthelesseninglight;thensuddenlyhesatupright.Hehadheardthestrangefeetoncemore.

Thistimetheyhadathirdoddity.Previouslytheunknownmanhadwalked,withlevityindeedandlightningquickness,buthehadwalked.Thistimeheran.Onecouldheartheswift,soft,boundingstepscomingalongthecorridor,likethepadsofafleeingandleapingpanther.Whoeverwascomingwasaverystrong,activeman,instillyettearingexcitement.Yet,whenthesoundhadsweptuptotheofficelikeasortofwhisperingwhirlwind,itsuddenlychangedagaintotheoldslow,swaggeringstamp.

FatherBrownflungdownhispaper,and,knowingtheofficedoortobelocked,wentatonceintothecloakroomontheotherside.Theattendantofthisplacewastemporarilyabsent,probablybecausetheonlyguestswereatdinnerandhisofficewasa

sinecure.Aftergropingthroughagreyforestofovercoats,hefoundthatthedimcloakroomopenedonthelightedcorridorintheformofasortofcounterorhalf-door,likemostofthecountersacrosswhichwehaveallhandedumbrellasandreceivedtickets.Therewasalightimmediatelyabovethesemicirculararchofthisopening.ItthrewlittleilluminationonFatherBrownhimself,whoseemedameredarkoutlineagainstthedimsunsetwindowbehindhim.Butitthrewanalmosttheatricallightonthemanwhostoodoutsidethecloakroominthecorridor.

Hewasanelegantmaninveryplaineveningdress;tall,butwithanairofnottakingupmuchroom;onefeltthathecouldhaveslidalonglikeashadowwheremanysmallermenwouldhave

beenobviousandobstructive.Hisface,nowflungbackinthelamplight,wasswarthyandvivacious,thefaceofaforeigner.Hisfigurewasgood,hismannersgoodhumouredandconfident;acriticcouldonlysaythathisblackcoatwasashadebelowhisfigureandmanners,andevenbulgedandbaggedinanoddway.ThemomenthecaughtsightofBrown'sblacksilhouetteagainstthesunset,hetosseddownascrapofpaperwithanumberandcalledoutwithamiableauthority:"Iwantmyhatandcoat,please;IfindIhavetogoawayatonce."



FatherBrowntookthepaperwithoutaword,andobedientlywenttolookforthecoat;itwasnotthefirstmenialworkhehaddoneinhislife.Hebroughtitandlaiditonthecounter;meanwhile,thestrangegentlemanwhohadbeenfeelinginhiswaistcoatpocket,saidlaughing:"Ihaven'tgotanysilver;youcankeepthis."Andhethrewdownhalfasovereign,andcaughtuphiscoat.

FatherBrown'sfigureremainedquitedarkandstill;butinthatinstanthehadlosthishead.Hisheadwasalwaysmostvaluablewhenhehadlostit.Insuchmomentsheputtwoandtwotogetherandmadefourmillion.OftentheCatholicChurch(whichisweddedtocommonsense)didnotapproveofit.Oftenhedidnotapproveofithimself.Butitwasrealinspiration--importantatrarecrises--whenwhosoevershalllosehisheadthesameshallsaveit.

"Ithink,sir,"hesaidcivilly,"thatyouhavesomesilverinyourpocket."

Thetallgentlemanstared."Hangit,"hecried,"ifIchoosetogiveyougold,whyshouldyoucomplain?"

"Becausesilverissometimesmorevaluablethangold,"said

thepriestmildly;"thatis,inlargequantities."Thestrangerlookedathimcuriously.Thenhelookedstillmorecuriouslyupthepassagetowardsthemainentrance.ThenhelookedbackatBrownagain,andthenhelookedverycarefullyatthewindowbeyondBrown'shead,stillcolouredwiththeafter-glowofthestorm.Thenheseemedtomakeuphismind.Heputonehandonthecounter,vaultedoveraseasilyasanacrobatandtoweredabovethepriest,puttingonetremendoushanduponhiscollar.

"Standstill,"hesaid,inahackingwhisper."Idon'twanttothreatenyou,but--"

"Idowanttothreatenyou,"saidFatherBrown,inavoicelikearollingdrum,"Iwanttothreatenyouwiththewormthatdiethnot,andthefirethatisnotquenched."

"You'rearumsortofcloak-roomclerk,"saidtheother.

"Iamapriest,MonsieurFlambeau,"saidBrown,"andIamreadytohearyourconfession."

Theotherstoodgaspingforafewmoments,andthenstaggeredbackintoachair.

ThefirsttwocoursesofthedinnerofTheTwelveTrue

Fishermenhadproceededwithplacidsuccess.Idonotpossessacopyofthemenu;andifIdiditwouldnotconveyanythingtoanybody.Itwaswritteninasortofsuper-Frenchemployedbycooks,butquiteunintelligibletoFrenchmen.Therewasatraditionintheclubthatthehorsd'oeuvresshouldbevariousandmanifoldtothepointofmadness.Theyweretakenseriouslybecausetheywereavowedlyuselessextras,likethewholedinnerandthewholeclub.Therewasalsoatraditionthatthesoupcourseshouldbelightandunpretending--asortofsimpleandausterevigilforthefeastoffishthatwastocome.Thetalk



wasthatstrange,slighttalkwhichgovernstheBritishEmpire,whichgovernsitinsecret,andyetwouldscarcelyenlightenanordinaryEnglishmanevenifhecouldoverhearit.CabinetministersonbothsideswerealludedtobytheirChristiannameswithasortofboredbenignity.TheRadicalChancelloroftheExchequer,whomthewholeTorypartywassupposedtobecursingforhisextortions,waspraisedforhisminorpoetry,orhissaddleinthehuntingfield.TheToryleader,whomallLiberalsweresupposedtohateasatyrant,wasdiscussedand,onthewhole,praised--asaLiberal.Itseemedsomehowthatpoliticianswereveryimportant.Andyet,anythingseemedimportantaboutthemexcepttheirpolitics.Mr.Audley,thechairman,wasanamiable,elderlymanwhostillworeGladstonecollars;hewasakindofsymbolofallthatphantasmalandyetfixedsociety.Hehadneverdoneanything--notevenanythingwrong.Hewasnotfast;hewasnotevenparticularlyrich.Hewassimplyinthething;andtherewasanendofit.Nopartycouldignorehim,andifhehadwishedtobeintheCabinethecertainlywouldhavebeenputthere.TheDukeofChester,thevice-president,wasayoungandrisingpolitician.Thatistosay,hewasapleasantyouth,withflat,fairhairandafreckledface,withmoderateintelligenceandenormousestates.Inpublichisappearanceswerealwayssuccessfulandhisprinciplewassimpleenough.Whenhethoughtofajokehemadeit,andwascalledbrilliant.Whenhecouldnot

thinkofajokehesaidthatthiswasnotimefortrifling,andwascalledable.Inprivate,inaclubofhisownclass,hewassimplyquitepleasantlyfrankandsilly,likeaschoolboy.Mr.Audley,neverhavingbeeninpolitics,treatedthemalittlemoreseriously.SometimesheevenembarrassedthecompanybyphrasessuggestingthattherewassomedifferencebetweenaLiberalandaConservative.HehimselfwasaConservative,eveninprivatelife.Hehadarollofgreyhairoverthebackofhiscollar,likecertainold-fashionedstatesmen,andseenfrombehindhelookedlikethemantheempirewants.Seenfromthefronthelookedlikeamild,self-indulgentbachelor,withroomsintheAlbany--whichhewas.

Ashasbeenremarked,thereweretwenty-fourseatsattheterracetable,andonlytwelvemembersoftheclub.Thustheycouldoccupytheterraceinthemostluxuriousstyleofall,beingrangedalongtheinnersideofthetable,withnooneopposite,commandinganuninterruptedviewofthegarden,thecoloursofwhichwerestillvivid,thougheveningwasclosinginsomewhatluridlyforthetimeofyear.Thechairmansatinthecentreoftheline,andthevice-presidentattheright-handendofit.Whenthetwelveguestsfirsttroopedintotheirseatsitwasthecustom(forsomeunknownreason)forallthefifteenwaiterstostandliningthewallliketroopspresentingarmstotheking,whilethefatproprietorstoodandbowedtotheclubwithradiantsurprise,asifhehadneverheardofthembefore.Butbeforethe

firstchinkofknifeandforkthisarmyofretainershadvanished,onlytheoneortworequiredtocollectanddistributetheplatesdartingaboutindeathlysilence.Mr.Lever,theproprietor,ofcoursehaddisappearedinconvulsionsofcourtesylongbefore.Itwouldbeexaggerative,indeedirreverent,tosaythatheeverpositivelyappearedagain.Butwhentheimportantcourse,thefishcourse,wasbeingbroughton,therewas--howshallIputit?--avividshadow,aprojectionofhispersonality,whichtoldthathewashoveringnear.Thesacredfishcourseconsisted(totheeyesofthevulgar)inasortofmonstrouspudding,aboutthesize



andshapeofaweddingcake,inwhichsomeconsiderablenumberofinterestingfisheshadfinallylosttheshapeswhichGodhadgiventothem.TheTwelveTrueFishermentookuptheircelebratedfishknivesandfishforks,andapproacheditasgravelyasifeveryinchofthepuddingcostasmuchasthesilverforkitwaseatenwith.Soitdid,forallIknow.Thiscoursewasdealtwithineageranddevouringsilence;anditwasonlywhenhisplatewasnearlyemptythattheyoungdukemadetheritualremark:"Theycan'tdothisanywherebuthere."

"Nowhere,"saidMr.Audley,inadeepbassvoice,turningtothespeakerandnoddinghisvenerableheadanumberoftimes."Nowhere,assuredly,excepthere.ItwasrepresentedtomethatattheCafeAnglais--"

Herehewasinterruptedandevenagitatedforamomentbytheremovalofhisplate,butherecapturedthevaluablethreadofhisthoughts."ItwasrepresentedtomethatthesamecouldbedoneattheCafeAnglais.Nothinglikeit,sir,"hesaid,shakinghisheadruthlessly,likeahangingjudge."Nothinglikeit."

"Overratedplace,"saidacertainColonelPound,speaking(bythelookofhim)forthefirsttimeforsomemonths.

"Oh,Idon'tknow,"saidtheDukeofChester,whowasanoptimist,"it'sjollygoodforsomethings.Youcan'tbeatitat--"

Awaitercameswiftlyalongtheroom,andthenstoppeddead.Hisstoppagewasassilentashistread;butallthosevagueandkindlygentlemenweresousedtotheuttersmoothnessoftheunseenmachinerywhichsurroundedandsupportedtheirlives,thatawaiterdoinganythingunexpectedwasastartandajar.TheyfeltasyouandIwouldfeeliftheinanimateworlddisobeyed--ifachairranawayfromus.

Thewaiterstoodstaringafewseconds,whiletheredeepened

oneveryfaceattableastrangeshamewhichiswhollytheproductofourtime.Itisthecombinationofmodernhumanitarianismwiththehorriblemodernabyssbetweenthesoulsoftherichandpoor.Agenuinehistoricaristocratwouldhavethrownthingsatthewaiter,beginningwithemptybottles,andveryprobablyendingwithmoney.Agenuinedemocratwouldhaveaskedhim,withcomrade-likeclearnessofspeech,whatthedevilhewasdoing.Butthesemodernplutocratscouldnotbearapoormanneartothem,eitherasaslaveorasafriend.Thatsomethinghadgonewrongwiththeservantswasmerelyadull,hotembarrassment.Theydidnotwanttobebrutal,andtheydreadedtheneedtobebenevolent.Theywantedthething,whateveritwas,tobeover.Itwasover.Thewaiter,afterstandingforsomesecondsrigid,

likeacataleptic,turnedroundandranmadlyoutoftheroom.

Whenhereappearedintheroom,orratherinthedoorway,itwasincompanywithanotherwaiter,withwhomhewhisperedandgesticulatedwithsouthernfierceness.Thenthefirstwaiterwentaway,leavingthesecondwaiter,andreappearedwithathirdwaiter.Bythetimeafourthwaiterhadjoinedthishurriedsynod,Mr.AudleyfeltitnecessarytobreakthesilenceintheinterestsofTact.Heusedaveryloudcough,insteadofapresidentialhammer,andsaid:"SplendidworkyoungMoocher's



doinginBurmah.Now,noothernationintheworldcouldhave--"

Afifthwaiterhadspedtowardshimlikeanarrow,andwaswhisperinginhisear:"Sosorry.Important!Mighttheproprietorspeaktoyou?"

Thechairmanturnedindisorder,andwithadazedstaresawMr.Levercomingtowardsthemwithhislumberingquickness.Thegaitofthegoodproprietorwasindeedhisusualgait,buthisfacewasbynomeansusual.Generallyitwasagenialcopper-brown;nowitwasasicklyyellow.

"Youwillpardonme,Mr.Audley,"hesaid,withasthmaticbreathlessness."Ihavegreatapprehensions.Yourfish-plates,theyareclearedawaywiththeknifeandforkonthem!"

"Well,Ihopeso,"saidthechairman,withsomewarmth.

"Youseehim?"pantedtheexcitedhotelkeeper;"youseethewaiterwhotookthemaway?Youknowhim?"

"Knowthewaiter?"answeredMr.Audleyindignantly."Certainlynot!"

Mr.Leveropenedhishandswithagestureofagony."Ineversendhim,"hesaid."Iknownotwhenorwhyhecome.Isendmywaitertotakeawaytheplates,andhefindthemalreadyaway."

Mr.Audleystilllookedrathertoobewilderedtobereallythemantheempirewants;noneofthecompanycouldsayanythingexceptthemanofwood--ColonelPound--whoseemedgalvanisedintoanunnaturallife.Heroserigidlyfromhischair,leavingalltherestsitting,screwedhiseyeglassintohiseye,andspokeinaraucousundertoneasifhehadhalf-forgottenhowtospeak."Doyoumean,"hesaid,"thatsomebodyhasstolenoursilverfishservice?"

Theproprietorrepeatedtheopen-handedgesturewithevengreaterhelplessnessandinaflashallthemenatthetablewereontheirfeet.

"Areallyourwaitershere?"demandedthecolonel,inhislow,harshaccent.

"Yes;they'reallhere.Inoticeditmyself,"criedtheyoungduke,pushinghisboyishfaceintotheinmostring."Alwayscount'emasIcomein;theylooksoqueerstandingupagainstthewall."

"Butsurelyonecannotexactlyremember,"beganMr.Audley,withheavyhesitation.

"Irememberexactly,Itellyou,"criedthedukeexcitedly."Thereneverhavebeenmorethanfifteenwaitersatthisplace,andtherewerenomorethanfifteentonight,I'llswear;nomoreandnoless."

Theproprietorturneduponhim,quakinginakindofpalsyofsurprise."Yousay--yousay,"hestammered,"thatyouseeallmyfifteenwaiters?"



"Asusual,"assentedtheduke."Whatisthematterwiththat!"

"Nothing,"saidLever,withadeepeningaccent,"onlyyoudidnot.Foroneofzemisdeadupstairs."

Therewasashockingstillnessforaninstantinthatroom.Itmaybe(sosupernaturalistheworddeath)thateachofthoseidlemenlookedforasecondathissoul,andsawitasasmalldriedpea.Oneofthem--theduke,Ithink--evensaidwiththeidiotickindnessofwealth:"Isthereanythingwecando?"

"Hehashadapriest,"saidtheJew,notuntouched.

Then,astotheclangofdoom,theyawoketotheirownposition.Forafewweirdsecondstheyhadreallyfeltasifthefifteenthwaitermightbetheghostofthedeadmanupstairs.Theyhadbeendumbunderthatoppression,forghostsweretothemanembarrassment,likebeggars.Buttheremembranceofthesilverbrokethespellofthemiraculous;brokeitabruptlyandwithabrutalreaction.Thecolonelflungoverhischairandstrodetothedoor."Iftherewasafifteenthmanhere,friends,"hesaid,"thatfifteenthfellowwasathief.Downatoncetothefrontandbackdoorsandsecureeverything;thenwe'lltalk.Thetwenty-fourpearlsoftheclubareworthrecovering."

Mr.Audleyseemedatfirsttohesitateaboutwhetheritwasgentlemanlytobeinsuchahurryaboutanything;but,seeingthedukedashdownthestairswithyouthfulenergy,hefollowedwithamorematuremotion.

Atthesameinstantasixthwaiterranintotheroom,anddeclaredthathehadfoundthepileoffishplatesonasideboard,withnotraceofthesilver.

Thecrowdofdinersandattendantsthattumbledhelter-skelterdownthepassagesdividedintotwogroups.MostoftheFishermenfollowedtheproprietortothefrontroomtodemandnewsofany

exit.ColonelPound,withthechairman,thevice-president,andoneortwoothersdarteddownthecorridorleadingtotheservants'quarters,asthemorelikelylineofescape.Astheydidsotheypassedthedimalcoveorcavernofthecloakroom,andsawashort,black-coatedfigure,presumablyanattendant,standingalittlewaybackintheshadowofit.

"Hallo,there!"calledouttheduke."Haveyouseenanyonepass?"

Theshortfiguredidnotanswerthequestiondirectly,butmerelysaid:"PerhapsIhavegotwhatyouarelookingfor,gentlemen."

Theypaused,waveringandwondering,whilehequietlywenttothebackofthecloakroom,andcamebackwithbothhandsfullofshiningsilver,whichhelaidoutonthecounterascalmlyasasalesman.Ittooktheformofadozenquaintlyshapedforksandknives.

"You--you--"beganthecolonel,quitethrownoffhisbalanceatlast.Thenhepeeredintothedimlittleroomandsawtwothings:first,thattheshort,black-cladmanwasdressedlike



aclergyman;and,second,thatthewindowoftheroombehindhimwasburst,asifsomeonehadpassedviolentlythrough."Valuablethingstodepositinacloakroom,aren'tthey?"remarkedtheclergyman,withcheerfulcomposure.

"Did--didyoustealthosethings?"stammeredMr.Audley,withstaringeyes.

"IfIdid,"saidtheclericpleasantly,"atleastIambringingthembackagain."

"Butyoudidn't,"saidColonelPound,stillstaringatthebrokenwindow.

"Tomakeacleanbreastofit,Ididn't,"saidtheother,withsomehumour.Andheseatedhimselfquitegravelyonastool."Butyouknowwhodid,"saidthe,colonel.

"Idon'tknowhisrealname,"saidthepriestplacidly,"butIknowsomethingofhisfightingweight,andagreatdealabouthisspiritualdifficulties.Iformedthephysicalestimatewhenhewastryingtothrottleme,andthemoralestimatewhenherepented."

"Oh,Isay--repented!"criedyoungChester,withasort

ofcrowoflaughter.FatherBrowngottohisfeet,puttinghishandsbehindhim."Odd,isn'tit,"hesaid,"thatathiefandavagabondshouldrepent,whensomanywhoarerichandsecureremainhardandfrivolous,andwithoutfruitforGodorman?Butthere,ifyouwillexcuseme,youtrespassalittleuponmyprovince.Ifyoudoubtthepenitenceasapracticalfact,thereareyourknivesandforks.YouareTheTwelveTrueFishers,andthereareallyoursilverfish.ButHehasmademeafisherofmen."

"Didyoucatchthisman?"askedthecolonel,frowning.

FatherBrownlookedhimfullinhisfrowningface."Yes,"hesaid,"Icaughthim,withanunseenhookandaninvisiblelinewhichislongenoughtolethimwandertotheendsoftheworld,andstilltobringhimbackwithatwitchuponthethread."

Therewasalongsilence.Alltheothermenpresentdriftedawaytocarrytherecoveredsilvertotheircomrades,ortoconsulttheproprietoraboutthequeerconditionofaffairs.Butthegrim-facedcolonelstillsatsidewaysonthecounter,swinginghislong,lanklegsandbitinghisdarkmoustache.

Atlasthesaidquietlytothepriest:"Hemusthavebeenacleverfellow,butIthinkIknowacleverer."

"Hewasacleverfellow,"answeredtheother,"butIamnotquitesureofwhatotheryoumean."

"Imeanyou,"saidthecolonel,withashortlaugh."Idon'twanttogetthefellowjailed;makeyourselfeasyaboutthat.ButI'dgiveagoodmanysilverforkstoknowexactlyhowyoufellintothisaffair,andhowyougotthestuffoutofhim.Ireckonyou'rethemostup-to-datedevilofthepresentcompany."



FatherBrownseemedrathertolikethesaturninecandourofthesoldier."Well,"hesaid,smiling,"Imustn'ttellyouanythingoftheman'sidentity,orhisownstory,ofcourse;butthere'snoparticularreasonwhyIshouldn'ttellyouofthemereoutsidefactswhichIfoundoutformyself."

Hehoppedoverthebarrierwithunexpectedactivity,andsatbesideColonelPound,kickinghisshortlegslikealittleboyonagate.HebegantotellthestoryaseasilyasifheweretellingittoanoldfriendbyaChristmasfire.

"Yousee,colonel,"hesaid,"Iwasshutupinthatsmallroomtheredoingsomewriting,whenIheardapairoffeetinthispassagedoingadancethatwasasqueerasthedanceofdeath.Firstcamequick,funnylittlesteps,likeamanwalkingontiptoeforawager;thencameslow,careless,creakingsteps,asofabigmanwalkingaboutwithacigar.Buttheywerebothmadebythesamefeet,Iswear,andtheycameinrotation;firsttherunandthenthewalk,andthentherunagain.Iwonderedatfirstidlyandthenwildlywhyamanshouldactthesetwopartsatonce.OnewalkIknew;itwasjustlikeyours,colonel.Itwasthewalkofawell-fedgentlemanwaitingforsomething,whostrollsaboutratherbecauseheisphysicallyalertthanbecauseheismentallyimpatient.IknewthatIknewtheotherwalk,too,butIcould

notrememberwhatitwas.WhatwildcreaturehadImetonmytravelsthattorealongontiptoeinthatextraordinarystyle?ThenIheardaclinkofplatessomewhere;andtheanswerstoodupasplainasSt.Peter's.Itwasthewalkofawaiter--thatwalkwiththebodyslantedforward,theeyeslookingdown,theballofthetoespurningawaytheground,thecoattailsandnapkinflying.ThenIthoughtforaminuteandahalfmore.AndIbelieveIsawthemannerofthecrime,asclearlyasifIweregoingtocommitit."

ColonelPoundlookedathimkeenly,butthespeaker'smildgreyeyeswerefixedupontheceilingwithalmostemptywistfulness.

"Acrime,"hesaidslowly,"islikeanyotherworkofart.Don'tlooksurprised;crimesarebynomeanstheonlyworksofartthatcomefromaninfernalworkshop.Buteveryworkofart,divineordiabolic,hasoneindispensablemark--Imean,thatthecentreofitissimple,howevermuchthefulfilmentmaybecomplicated.Thus,inHamlet,letussay,thegrotesquenessofthegrave-digger,theflowersofthemadgirl,thefantasticfineryofOsric,thepalloroftheghostandthegrinoftheskullareallodditiesinasortoftangledwreathroundoneplaintragicfigureofamaninblack.Well,thisalso,"hesaid,gettingslowlydownfromhisseatwithasmile,"thisalsoistheplaintragedyofamaninblack.Yes,"hewenton,seeingthecolonellookupinsomewonder,"thewholeofthistaleturnsonablackcoat.Inthis,

asinHamlet,therearetherococoexcrescences--yourselves,letussay.Thereisthedeadwaiter,whowastherewhenhecouldnotbethere.Thereistheinvisiblehandthatsweptyourtableclearofsilverandmeltedintoair.Buteveryclevercrimeisfoundedultimatelyonsomeonequitesimplefact--somefactthatisnotitselfmysterious.Themystificationcomesincoveringitup,inleadingmen'sthoughtsawayfromit.Thislargeandsubtleand(intheordinarycourse)mostprofitablecrime,wasbuiltontheplainfactthatagentleman'seveningdressisthesameasawaiter's.Alltherestwasacting,andthunderinggoodacting,



too."

"Still,"saidthecolonel,gettingupandfrowningathisboots,"IamnotsurethatIunderstand."

"Colonel,"saidFatherBrown,"Itellyouthatthisarchangelofimpudencewhostoleyourforkswalkedupanddownthispassagetwentytimesintheblazeofallthelamps,intheglareofalltheeyes.Hedidnotgoandhideindimcornerswheresuspicionmighthavesearchedforhim.Hekeptconstantlyonthemoveinthelightedcorridors,andeverywherethathewentheseemedtobetherebyright.Don'taskmewhathewaslike;youhaveseenhimyourselfsixorseventimestonight.Youwerewaitingwithalltheothergrandpeopleinthereceptionroomattheendofthepassagethere,withtheterracejustbeyond.Wheneverhecameamongyougentlemen,hecameinthelightningstyleofawaiter,withbenthead,flappingnapkinandflyingfeet.Heshotoutontotheterrace,didsomethingtothetablecloth,andshotbackagaintowardstheofficeandthewaiters'quarters.Bythetimehehadcomeundertheeyeoftheofficeclerkandthewaitershehadbecomeanothermanineveryinchofhisbody,ineveryinstinctivegesture.Hestrolledamongtheservantswiththeabsent-mindedinsolencewhichtheyhaveallseenintheirpatrons.Itwasnonewthingtothemthataswellfromthedinnerparty

shouldpaceallpartsofthehouselikeananimalattheZoo;theyknowthatnothingmarkstheSmartSetmorethanahabitofwalkingwhereonechooses.Whenhewasmagnificentlywearyofwalkingdownthatparticularpassagehewouldwheelroundandpacebackpasttheoffice;intheshadowofthearchjustbeyondhewasalteredasbyablastofmagic,andwenthurryingforwardagainamongtheTwelveFishermen,anobsequiousattendant.Whyshouldthegentlemenlookatachancewaiter?Whyshouldthewaiterssuspectafirst-ratewalkinggentleman?Onceortwiceheplayedthecoolesttricks.Intheproprietor'sprivatequartershecalledoutbreezilyforasyphonofsodawater,sayinghewasthirsty.Hesaidgeniallythathewouldcarryithimself,andhedid;hecarrieditquicklyandcorrectlythroughthethickofyou,

awaiterwithanobviouserrand.Ofcourse,itcouldnothavebeenkeptuplong,butitonlyhadtobekeptuptilltheendofthefishcourse.

"Hisworstmomentwaswhenthewaitersstoodinarow;buteventhenhecontrivedtoleanagainstthewalljustroundthecornerinsuchawaythatforthatimportantinstantthewaitersthoughthimagentleman,whilethegentlementhoughthimawaiter.Therestwentlikewinking.Ifanywaitercaughthimawayfromthetable,thatwaitercaughtalanguidaristocrat.Hehadonlytotimehimselftwominutesbeforethefishwascleared,becomeaswiftservant,andclearithimself.Heputtheplatesdownonasideboard,stuffedthesilverinhisbreastpocket,givingita

bulgylook,andranlikeahare(Iheardhimcoming)tillhecametothecloakroom.Therehehadonlytobeaplutocratagain--aplutocratcalledawaysuddenlyonbusiness.Hehadonlytogivehistickettothecloak-roomattendant,andgooutagainelegantlyashehadcomein.Only--onlyIhappenedtobethecloak-roomattendant."

"Whatdidyoudotohim?"criedthecolonel,withunusualintensity."Whatdidhetellyou?"



"Ibegyourpardon,"saidthepriestimmovably,"thatiswherethestoryends."

"Andtheinterestingstorybegins,"mutteredPound."IthinkIunderstandhisprofessionaltrick.ButIdon'tseemtohavegotholdofyours."

"Imustbegoing,"saidFatherBrown.

Theywalkedtogetheralongthepassagetotheentrancehall,wheretheysawthefresh,freckledfaceoftheDukeofChester,whowasboundingbuoyantlyalongtowardsthem.

"Comealong,Pound,"hecriedbreathlessly."I'vebeenlookingforyoueverywhere.Thedinner'sgoingagaininspankingstyle,andoldAudleyhasgottomakeaspeechinhonouroftheforksbeingsaved.Wewanttostartsomenewceremony,don'tyouknow,tocommemoratetheoccasion.Isay,youreallygotthegoodsback,whatdoyousuggest?"

"Why,"saidthecolonel,eyeinghimwithacertainsardonicapproval,"Ishouldsuggestthathenceforwardweweargreencoats,insteadofblack.Oneneverknowswhatmistakesmayarisewhenonelookssolikeawaiter."

"Oh,hangitall!"saidtheyoungman,"agentlemanneverlookslikeawaiter."

"Norawaiterlikeagentleman,Isuppose,"saidColonelPound,withthesameloweringlaughteronhisface."Reverendsir,yourfriendmusthavebeenverysmarttoactthegentleman."

FatherBrownbuttoneduphiscommonplaceovercoattotheneck,forthenightwasstormy,andtookhiscommonplaceumbrellafromthestand.

"Yes,"hesaid;"itmustbeveryhardworktobeagentleman;

but,doyouknow,Ihavesometimesthoughtthatitmaybealmostaslaborioustobeawaiter."

Andsaying"Goodevening,"hepushedopentheheavydoorsofthatpalaceofpleasures.Thegoldengatesclosedbehindhim,andhewentatabriskwalkthroughthedamp,darkstreetsinsearchofapennyomnibus.

TheFlyingStars

"ThemostbeautifulcrimeIevercommitted,"Flambeauwouldsayinhishighlymoraloldage,"wasalso,byasingularcoincidence,mylast.ItwascommittedatChristmas.AsanartistIhadalwaysattemptedtoprovidecrimessuitabletothespecialseasonorlandscapesinwhichIfoundmyself,choosingthisorthatterraceorgardenforacatastrophe,asifforastatuarygroup.Thussquiresshouldbeswindledinlongroomspanelledwithoak;whileJews,ontheotherhand,shouldratherfindthemselvesunexpectedlypennilessamongthelightsandscreensoftheCafeRiche.Thus,inEngland,ifIwishedtorelieveadeanofhisriches(whichis



notsoeasyasyoumightsuppose),Iwishedtoframehim,ifImakemyselfclear,inthegreenlawnsandgreytowersofsomecathedraltown.Similarly,inFrance,whenIhadgotmoneyoutofarichandwickedpeasant(whichisalmostimpossible),itgratifiedmetogethisindignantheadrelievedagainstagreylineofclippedpoplars,andthosesolemnplainsofGauloverwhichbroodsthemightyspiritofMillet.

"Well,mylastcrimewasaChristmascrime,acheery,cosy,Englishmiddle-classcrime;acrimeofCharlesDickens.Ididitinagoodoldmiddle-classhousenearPutney,ahousewithacrescentofcarriagedrive,ahousewithastablebythesideofit,ahousewiththenameonthetwooutergates,ahousewithamonkeytree.Enough,youknowthespecies.IreallythinkmyimitationofDickens'sstylewasdexterousandliterary.ItseemsalmostapityIrepentedthesameevening."

Flambeauwouldthenproceedtotellthestoryfromtheinside;andevenfromtheinsideitwasodd.Seenfromtheoutsideitwasperfectlyincomprehensible,anditisfromtheoutsidethatthestrangermuststudyit.Fromthisstandpointthedramamaybesaidtohavebegunwhenthefrontdoorsofthehousewiththestableopenedonthegardenwiththemonkeytree,andayounggirlcameoutwithbreadtofeedthebirdsontheafternoonofBoxing

Day.Shehadaprettyface,withbravebrowneyes;butherfigurewasbeyondconjecture,forshewassowrappedupinbrownfursthatitwashardtosaywhichwashairandwhichwasfur.Butfortheattractivefaceshemighthavebeenasmalltoddlingbear.

Thewinterafternoonwasreddeningtowardsevening,andalreadyarubylightwasrolledoverthebloomlessbeds,fillingthem,asitwere,withtheghostsofthedeadroses.Ononesideofthehousestoodthestable,ontheotheranalleyorcloisteroflaurelsledtothelargergardenbehind.Theyounglady,havingscatteredbreadforthebirds(forthefourthorfifthtimethatday,becausethedogateit),passedunobtrusivelydownthelaneoflaurelsandintoaglimmeringplantationofevergreensbehind.

Hereshegaveanexclamationofwonder,realorritual,andlookingupatthehighgardenwallaboveher,behelditfantasticallybestriddenbyasomewhatfantasticfigure.

"Oh,don'tjump,Mr.Crook,"shecalledoutinsomealarm;"it'smuchtoohigh."

Theindividualridingthepartywalllikeanaerialhorsewasatall,angularyoungman,withdarkhairstickinguplikeahairbrush,intelligentandevendistinguishedlineaments,butasallowandalmostaliencomplexion.Thisshowedthemoreplainlybecauseheworeanaggressiveredtie,theonlypartofhiscostumeofwhichheseemedtotakeanycare.Perhapsitwasasymbol.He

tooknonoticeofthegirl'salarmedadjuration,butleaptlikeagrasshoppertothegroundbesideher,wherehemightverywellhavebrokenhislegs.

"IthinkIwasmeanttobeaburglar,"hesaidplacidly,"andIhavenodoubtIshouldhavebeenifIhadn'thappenedtobeborninthatnicehousenextdoor.Ican'tseeanyharminit,anyhow."

"Howcanyousaysuchthings!"sheremonstrated.



"Well,"saidtheyoungman,"ifyou'rebornonthewrongsideofthewall,Ican'tseethatit'swrongtoclimboverit."

"Ineverknowwhatyouwillsayordonext,"shesaid.

"Idon'toftenknowmyself,"repliedMr.Crook;"butthenIamontherightsideofthewallnow."

"Andwhichistherightsideofthewall?"askedtheyounglady,smiling.

"Whicheversideyouareon,"saidtheyoungmannamedCrook.

Astheywenttogetherthroughthelaurelstowardsthefrontgardenamotorhornsoundedthrice,comingnearerandnearer,andacarofsplendidspeed,greatelegance,andapalegreencoloursweptuptothefrontdoorslikeabirdandstoodthrobbing.

"Hullo,hullo!"saidtheyoungmanwiththeredtie,"here'ssomebodybornontherightside,anyhow.Ididn'tknow,MissAdams,thatyourSantaClauswassomodernasthis."

"Oh,that'smygodfather,SirLeopoldFischer.HealwayscomesonBoxingDay."

Then,afteraninnocentpause,whichunconsciouslybetrayedsomelackofenthusiasm,RubyAdamsadded:

"Heisverykind."

JohnCrook,journalist,hadheardofthateminentCitymagnate;anditwasnothisfaultiftheCitymagnatehadnotheardofhim;forincertainarticlesinTheClarionorTheNewAgeSirLeopoldhadbeendealtwithausterely.Buthesaidnothingandgrimlywatchedtheunloadingofthemotor-car,whichwasratheralongprocess.Alarge,neatchauffeuringreengotoutfromthefront,andasmall,neatmanservantingreygotoutfromtheback,and

betweenthemtheydepositedSirLeopoldonthedoorstepandbegantounpackhim,likesomeverycarefullyprotectedparcel.Rugsenoughtostockabazaar,fursofallthebeastsoftheforest,andscarvesofallthecoloursoftherainbowwereunwrappedonebyone,tilltheyrevealedsomethingresemblingthehumanform;theformofafriendly,butforeign-lookingoldgentleman,withagreygoat-likebeardandabeamingsmile,whorubbedhisbigfurglovestogether.

Longbeforethisrevelationwascompletethetwobigdoorsoftheporchhadopenedinthemiddle,andColonelAdams(fatherofthefurryyounglady)hadcomeouthimselftoinvitehiseminentguestinside.Hewasatall,sunburnt,andverysilentman,who

worearedsmoking-caplikeafez,makinghimlooklikeoneoftheEnglishSirdarsorPashasinEgypt.Withhimwashisbrother-in-law,latelycomefromCanada,abigandratherboisterousyounggentleman-farmer,withayellowbeard,bynameJamesBlount.WithhimalsowasthemoreinsignificantfigureofthepriestfromtheneighbouringRomanChurch;forthecolonel'slatewifehadbeenaCatholic,andthechildren,asiscommoninsuchcases,hadbeentrainedtofollowher.Everythingseemedundistinguishedaboutthepriest,evendowntohisname,whichwasBrown;yetthecolonelhadalwaysfoundsomethingcompanionable



abouthim,andfrequentlyaskedhimtosuchfamilygatherings.

InthelargeentrancehallofthehousetherewasampleroomevenforSirLeopoldandtheremovalofhiswraps.Porchandvestibule,indeed,wereundulylargeinproportiontothehouse,andformed,asitwere,abigroomwiththefrontdooratoneend,andthebottomofthestaircaseattheother.Infrontofthelargehallfire,overwhichhungthecolonel'ssword,theprocesswascompletedandthecompany,includingthesaturnineCrook,presentedtoSirLeopoldFischer.Thatvenerablefinancier,however,stillseemedstrugglingwithportionsofhiswell-linedattire,andatlengthproducedfromaveryinteriortail-coatpocket,ablackovalcasewhichheradiantlyexplainedtobehisChristmaspresentforhisgod-daughter.Withanunaffectedvain-glorythathadsomethingdisarmingaboutitheheldoutthecasebeforethemall;itflewopenatatouchandhalf-blindedthem.Itwasjustasifacrystalfountainhadspurtedintheireyes.Inanestoforangevelvetlaylikethreeeggs,threewhiteandvividdiamondsthatseemedtosettheveryaironfireallroundthem.Fischerstoodbeamingbenevolentlyanddrinkingdeepoftheastonishmentandecstasyofthegirl,thegrimadmirationandgruffthanksofthecolonel,thewonderofthewholegroup.

"I'llput'embacknow,mydear,"saidFischer,returningthe

casetothetailsofhiscoat."Ihadtobecarefulof'emcomingdown.They'rethethreegreatAfricandiamondscalled`TheFlyingStars,'becausethey'vebeenstolensooften.Allthebigcriminalsareonthetrack;buteventheroughmenaboutinthestreetsandhotelscouldhardlyhavekepttheirhandsoffthem.Imighthavelostthemontheroadhere.Itwasquitepossible."

"Quitenatural,Ishouldsay,"growledthemanintheredtie."Ishouldn'tblame'emiftheyhadtaken'em.Whentheyaskforbread,andyoudon'tevengivethemastone,Ithinktheymighttakethestoneforthemselves."

"Iwon'thaveyoutalkinglikethat,"criedthegirl,whowas

inacuriousglow."You'veonlytalkedlikethatsinceyoubecameahorridwhat's-his-name.YouknowwhatImean.Whatdoyoucallamanwhowantstoembracethechimney-sweep?"

"Asaint,"saidFatherBrown.

"Ithink,"saidSirLeopold,withasupercilioussmile,"thatRubymeansaSocialist."

"Aradicaldoesnotmeanamanwholivesonradishes,"remarkedCrook,withsomeimpatience;"andaConservativedoesnotmeanamanwhopreservesjam.Neither,Iassureyou,doesaSocialistmeanamanwhodesiresasocialeveningwiththechimney-sweep.A

Socialistmeansamanwhowantsallthechimneyssweptandallthechimney-sweepspaidforit."

"Butwhowon'tallowyou,"putinthepriestinalowvoice,"toownyourownsoot."

Crooklookedathimwithaneyeofinterestandevenrespect."Doesonewanttoownsoot?"heasked.

"Onemight,"answeredBrown,withspeculationinhiseye.



Iwantahotpokerandapolicemanmadeintosausages,andtheygivemeprincessesmoralisingbymoonlight,BlueBirds,orsomething.BlueBeard'smoreinmyline,andhimIlikebestwhenheturnedintothepantaloon."

"I'mallformakingapolicemanintosausages,"saidJohnCrook."It'sabetterdefinitionofSocialismthansomerecentlygiven.Butsurelytheget-upwouldbetoobigabusiness."

"Notascrap,"criedBlount,quitecarriedaway."Aharlequinade'sthequickestthingwecando,fortworeasons.First,onecangagtoanydegree;and,second,alltheobjectsarehouseholdthings--tablesandtowel-horsesandwashingbaskets,andthingslikethat."

"That'strue,"admittedCrook,noddingeagerlyandwalkingabout."ButI'mafraidIcan'thavemypoliceman'suniform?Haven'tkilledapolicemanlately."

Blountfrownedthoughtfullyaspace,andthensmotehisthigh."Yes,wecan!"hecried."I'vegotFlorian'saddresshere,andheknowseverycostumierinLondon.I'llphonehimtobringapolicedresswhenhecomes."Andhewentboundingawaytothetelephone.

"Oh,it'sglorious,godfather,"criedRuby,almostdancing."I'llbecolumbineandyoushallbepantaloon."

Themillionaireheldhimselfstiffwithasortofheathensolemnity."Ithink,mydear,"hesaid,"youmustgetsomeoneelseforpantaloon."

"Iwillbepantaloon,ifyoulike,"saidColonelAdams,takinghiscigaroutofhismouth,andspeakingforthefirstandlasttime.

"Yououghttohaveastatue,"criedtheCanadian,ashecameback,radiant,fromthetelephone."There,weareallfitted.

Mr.Crookshallbeclown;he'sajournalistandknowsalltheoldestjokes.Icanbeharlequin,thatonlywantslonglegsandjumpingabout.MyfriendFlorian'phoneshe'sbringingthepolicecostume;he'schangingontheway.Wecanactitinthisveryhall,theaudiencesittingonthosebroadstairsopposite,onerowaboveanother.Thesefrontdoorscanbethebackscene,eitheropenorshut.Shut,youseeanEnglishinterior.Open,amoonlitgarden.Itallgoesbymagic."Andsnatchingachancepieceofbilliardchalkfromhispocket,heranitacrossthehallfloor,half-waybetweenthefrontdoorandthestaircase,tomarkthelineofthefootlights.

Howevensuchabanquetofboshwasgotreadyinthetime

remainedariddle.Buttheywentatitwiththatmixtureofrecklessnessandindustrythatliveswhenyouthisinahouse;andyouthwasinthathousethatnight,thoughnotallmayhaveisolatedthetwofacesandheartsfromwhichitflamed.Asalwayshappens,theinventiongrewwilderandwilderthroughtheverytamenessofthebourgeoisconventionsfromwhichithadtocreate.Thecolumbinelookedcharminginanoutstandingskirtthatstrangelyresembledthelargelamp-shadeinthedrawing-room.Theclownandpantaloonmadethemselveswhitewithflourfromthecook,andredwithrougefromsomeotherdomestic,whoremained(like



Putney.Itwasalmostimpossibletobelievethatalivingpersoncouldappearsolimp.

TheathleticharlequinswunghimaboutlikeasackortwistedortossedhimlikeanIndianclub;allthetimetothemostmaddeninglyludicroustunesfromthepiano.Whentheharlequinheavedthecomicconstableheavilyoffthefloortheclownplayed"Iarisefromdreamsofthee."Whenheshuffledhimacrosshisback,"Withmybundleonmyshoulder,"andwhentheharlequinfinallyletfallthepolicemanwithamostconvincingthud,thelunaticattheinstrumentstruckintoajinglingmeasurewithsomewordswhicharestillbelievedtohavebeen,"IsentalettertomyloveandonthewayIdroppedit."

AtaboutthislimitofmentalanarchyFatherBrown'sviewwasobscuredaltogether;fortheCitymagnateinfrontofhimrosetohisfullheightandthrusthishandssavagelyintoallhispockets.Thenhesatdownnervously,stillfumbling,andthenstoodupagain.Foraninstantitseemedseriouslylikelythathewouldstrideacrossthefootlights;thenheturnedaglareattheclownplayingthepiano;andthenheburstinsilenceoutoftheroom.

Thepriesthadonlywatchedforafewmoreminutestheabsurdbutnotinelegantdanceoftheamateurharlequinoverhis

splendidlyunconsciousfoe.Withrealthoughrudeart,theharlequindancedslowlybackwardsoutofthedoorintothegarden,whichwasfullofmoonlightandstillness.Thevampeddressofsilverpaperandpaste,whichhadbeentooglaringinthefootlights,lookedmoreandmoremagicalandsilveryasitdancedawayunderabrilliantmoon.Theaudiencewasclosinginwithacataractofapplause,whenBrownfelthisarmabruptlytouched,andhewasaskedinawhispertocomeintothecolonel'sstudy.

Hefollowedhissummonerwithincreasingdoubt,whichwasnotdispelledbyasolemncomicalityinthesceneofthestudy.TheresatColonelAdams,stillunaffectedlydressedasapantaloon,withtheknobbedwhalebonenoddingabovehisbrow,butwithhispoor

oldeyessadenoughtohavesoberedaSaturnalia.SirLeopoldFischerwasleaningagainstthemantelpieceandheavingwithalltheimportanceofpanic.

"Thisisaverypainfulmatter,FatherBrown,"saidAdams."Thetruthis,thosediamondsweallsawthisafternoonseemtohavevanishedfrommyfriend'stail-coatpocket.Andasyou--"

"AsI,"supplementedFatherBrown,withabroadgrin,"wassittingjustbehindhim--"

"Nothingofthesortshallbesuggested,"saidColonelAdams,withafirmlookatFischer,whichratherimpliedthatsomesuch

thinghadbeensuggested."Ionlyaskyoutogivemetheassistancethatanygentlemanmightgive."

"Whichisturningouthispockets,"saidFatherBrown,andproceededtodoso,displayingsevenandsixpence,areturnticket,asmallsilvercrucifix,asmallbreviary,andastickofchocolate.

Thecolonellookedathimlong,andthensaid,"Doyouknow,Ishouldliketoseetheinsideofyourheadmorethantheinsideof



yourpockets.Mydaughterisoneofyourpeople,Iknow;well,shehaslately--"andhestopped.

"Shehaslately,"criedoutoldFischer,"openedherfather'shousetoacut-throatSocialist,whosaysopenlyhewouldstealanythingfromaricherman.Thisistheendofit.Hereisthericherman--andnonethericher."

"Ifyouwanttheinsideofmyheadyoucanhaveit,"saidBrownratherwearily."Whatit'sworthyoucansayafterwards.ButthefirstthingIfindinthatdisusedpocketisthis:thatmenwhomeantostealdiamondsdon'ttalkSocialism.Theyaremorelikely,"headdeddemurely,"todenounceit."

Boththeothersshiftedsharplyandthepriestwenton:

"Yousee,weknowthesepeople,moreorless.ThatSocialistwouldnomorestealadiamondthanaPyramid.Weoughttolookatoncetotheonemanwedon'tknow.Thefellowactingthepoliceman--Florian.Whereisheexactlyatthisminute,Iwonder."

Thepantaloonsprangerectandstrodeoutoftheroom.Aninterludeensued,duringwhichthemillionairestaredatthepriest,andthepriestathisbreviary;thenthepantaloon

returnedandsaid,withstaccatogravity,"Thepolicemanisstilllyingonthestage.Thecurtainhasgoneupanddownsixtimes;heisstilllyingthere."

FatherBrowndroppedhisbookandstoodstaringwithalookofblankmentalruin.Veryslowlyalightbegantocreepinhisgreyeyes,andthenhemadethescarcelyobviousanswer.

"Pleaseforgiveme,colonel,butwhendidyourwifedie?"

"Wife!"repliedthestaringsoldier,"shediedthisyeartwomonths.HerbrotherJamesarrivedjustaweektoolatetoseeher."

Thelittlepriestboundedlikearabbitshot."Comeon!"hecriedinquiteunusualexcitement."Comeon!We'vegottogoandlookatthatpoliceman!"

Theyrushedontothenowcurtainedstage,breakingrudelypastthecolumbineandclown(whoseemedwhisperingquitecontentedly),andFatherBrownbentovertheprostratecomicpoliceman.

"Chloroform,"hesaidasherose;"Ionlyguesseditjustnow."

Therewasastartledstillness,andthenthecolonelsaidslowly,"Pleasesayseriouslywhatallthismeans."

FatherBrownsuddenlyshoutedwithlaughter,thenstopped,andonlystruggledwithitforinstantsduringtherestofhisspeech."Gentlemen,"hegasped,"there'snotmuchtimetotalk.Imustrunafterthecriminal.ButthisgreatFrenchactorwhoplayedthepoliceman--thisclevercorpsetheharlequinwaltzedwithanddandledandthrewabout--hewas--"Hisvoiceagainfailedhim,andheturnedhisbacktorun.

"Hewas?"calledFischerinquiringly.



"Arealpoliceman,"saidFatherBrown,andranawayintothedark.

Therewerehollowsandbowersattheextremeendofthatleafygarden,inwhichthelaurelsandotherimmortalshrubsshowedagainstsapphireskyandsilvermoon,eveninthatmidwinter,warmcoloursasofthesouth.Thegreengaietyofthewavinglaurels,therichpurpleindigoofthenight,themoonlikeamonstrouscrystal,makeanalmostirresponsibleromanticpicture;andamongthetopbranchesofthegardentreesastrangefigureisclimbing,wholooksnotsomuchromanticasimpossible.Hesparklesfromheadtoheel,asifcladintenmillionmoons;therealmooncatcheshimateverymovementandsetsanewinchofhimonfire.Butheswings,flashingandsuccessful,fromtheshorttreeinthisgardentothetall,ramblingtreeintheother,andonlystopstherebecauseashadehasslidunderthesmallertreeandhasunmistakablycalleduptohim.

"Well,Flambeau,"saysthevoice,"youreallylooklikeaFlyingStar;butthatalwaysmeansaFallingStaratlast."

Thesilver,sparklingfigureaboveseemstoleanforwardinthelaurelsand,confidentofescape,listenstothelittlefigure

below."Youneverdidanythingbetter,Flambeau.ItwasclevertocomefromCanada(withaParisticket,Isuppose)justaweekafterMrs.Adamsdied,whennoonewasinamoodtoaskquestions.ItwascleverertohavemarkeddowntheFlyingStarsandtheverydayofFischer'scoming.Butthere'snocleverness,butmeregenius,inwhatfollowed.Stealingthestones,Isuppose,wasnothingtoyou.Youcouldhavedoneitbysleightofhandinahundredotherwaysbesidesthatpretenceofputtingapaperdonkey'stailtoFischer'scoat.Butintherestyoueclipsedyourself."

Thesilveryfigureamongthegreenleavesseemstolingeras

ifhypnotised,thoughhisescapeiseasybehindhim;heisstaringatthemanbelow.

"Oh,yes,"saysthemanbelow,"Iknowallaboutit.Iknowyounotonlyforcedthepantomime,butputittoadoubleuse.Youweregoingtostealthestonesquietly;newscamebyanaccomplicethatyouwerealreadysuspected,andacapablepoliceofficerwascomingtoroutyouupthatverynight.Acommonthiefwouldhavebeenthankfulforthewarningandfled;butyouareapoet.Youalreadyhadtheclevernotionofhidingthejewelsinablazeoffalsestagejewellery.Now,yousawthatifthedresswereaharlequin'stheappearanceofapolicemanwouldbequiteinkeeping.TheworthyofficerstartedfromPutneypolicestationto

findyou,andwalkedintothequeeresttrapeversetinthisworld.WhenthefrontdooropenedhewalkedstraightontothestageofaChristmaspantomime,wherehecouldbekicked,clubbed,stunnedanddruggedbythedancingharlequin,amidroarsoflaughterfromallthemostrespectablepeopleinPutney.Oh,youwillneverdoanythingbetter.Andnow,bytheway,youmightgivemebackthosediamonds."

Thegreenbranchonwhichtheglitteringfigureswung,rustledasifinastonishment;butthevoicewenton:



"Iwantyoutogivethemback,Flambeau,andIwantyoutogiveupthislife.Thereisstillyouthandhonourandhumourinyou;don'tfancytheywilllastinthattrade.Menmaykeepasortoflevelofgood,butnomanhaseverbeenabletokeepononelevelofevil.Thatroadgoesdownanddown.Thekindmandrinksandturnscruel;thefrankmankillsandliesaboutit.ManyamanI'veknownstartedlikeyoutobeanhonestoutlaw,amerryrobberoftherich,andendedstampedintoslime.MauriceBlumstartedoutasananarchistofprinciple,afatherofthepoor;heendedagreasyspyandtale-bearerthatbothsidesusedanddespised.HarryBurkestartedhisfreemoneymovementsincerelyenough;nowhe'sspongingonahalf-starvedsisterforendlessbrandiesandsodas.LordAmberwentintowildsocietyinasortofchivalry;nowhe'spayingblackmailtothelowestvulturesinLondon.CaptainBarillonwasthegreatgentleman-apachebeforeyourtime;hediedinamadhouse,screamingwithfearofthe"narks"andreceiversthathadbetrayedhimandhuntedhimdown.Iknowthewoodslookveryfreebehindyou,Flambeau;Iknowthatinaflashyoucouldmeltintothemlikeamonkey.Butsomedayyouwillbeanoldgreymonkey,Flambeau.Youwillsitupinyourfreeforestcoldatheartandclosetodeath,andthetree-topswillbeverybare."

Everythingcontinuedstill,asifthesmallmanbelowheldtheotherinthetreeinsomelonginvisibleleash;andhewenton:

"Yourdownwardstepshavebegun.Youusedtoboastofdoingnothingmean,butyouaredoingsomethingmeantonight.Youareleavingsuspiciononanhonestboywithagooddealagainsthimalready;youareseparatinghimfromthewomanhelovesandwholoveshim.Butyouwilldomeanerthingsthanthatbeforeyoudie."

Threeflashingdiamondsfellfromthetreetotheturf.Thesmallmanstoopedtopickthemup,andwhenhelookedupagainthegreencageofthetreewasemptiedofitssilverbird.

Therestorationofthegems(accidentallypickedupbyFatherBrown,ofallpeople)endedtheeveninginuproarioustriumph;andSirLeopold,inhisheightofgoodhumour,eventoldthepriestthatthoughhehimselfhadbroaderviews,hecouldrespectthosewhosecreedrequiredthemtobecloisteredandignorantofthisworld.

TheInvisibleMan

InthecoolbluetwilightoftwosteepstreetsinCamdenTown,theshopatthecorner,aconfectioner's,glowedlikethebuttofacigar.Oneshouldrathersay,perhaps,likethebuttofafirework,forthelightwasofmanycoloursandsomecomplexity,brokenupbymanymirrorsanddancingonmanygiltandgaily-colouredcakesandsweetmeats.Againstthisonefieryglassweregluedthenosesofmanygutter-snipes,forthechocolateswereallwrappedinthoseredandgoldandgreenmetalliccolourswhicharealmostbetterthanchocolateitself;andthehugewhitewedding-cakeinthewindowwassomehowatonceremoteandsatisfying,justasif



thewholeNorthPoleweregoodtoeat.Suchrainbowprovocationscouldnaturallycollecttheyouthoftheneighbourhooduptotheagesoftenortwelve.Butthiscornerwasalsoattractivetoyouthatalaterstage;andayoungman,notlessthantwenty-four,wasstaringintothesameshopwindow.Tohim,also,theshopwasoffierycharm,butthisattractionwasnotwhollytobeexplainedbychocolates;which,however,hewasfarfromdespising.

Hewasatall,burly,red-hairedyoungman,witharesolutefacebutalistlessmanner.Hecarriedunderhisarmaflat,greyportfolioofblack-and-whitesketches,whichhehadsoldwithmoreorlesssuccesstopublisherseversincehisuncle(whowasanadmiral)haddisinheritedhimforSocialism,becauseofalecturewhichhehaddeliveredagainstthateconomictheory.HisnamewasJohnTurnbullAngus.

Enteringatlast,hewalkedthroughtheconfectioner'sshoptothebackroom,whichwasasortofpastry-cookrestaurant,merelyraisinghishattotheyoungladywhowasservingthere.Shewasadark,elegant,alertgirlinblack,withahighcolourandveryquick,darkeyes;andaftertheordinaryintervalshefollowedhimintotheinnerroomtotakehisorder.

Hisorderwasevidentlyausualone."Iwant,please,"he

saidwithprecision,"onehalfpennybunandasmallcupofblackcoffee."Aninstantbeforethegirlcouldturnawayheadded,"Also,Iwantyoutomarryme."

Theyoungladyoftheshopstiffenedsuddenlyandsaid,"ThosearejokesIdon'tallow."

Thered-hairedyoungmanliftedgreyeyesofanunexpectedgravity.

"Reallyandtruly,"hesaid,"it'sasserious--asseriousasthehalfpennybun.Itisexpensive,likethebun;onepaysforit.Itisindigestible,likethebun.Ithurts."

Thedarkyoungladyhadnevertakenherdarkeyesoffhim,butseemedtobestudyinghimwithalmosttragicexactitude.Attheendofherscrutinyshehadsomethingliketheshadowofasmile,andshesatdowninachair.

"Don'tyouthink,"observedAngus,absently,"thatit'srathercrueltoeatthesehalfpennybuns?Theymightgrowupintopennybuns.Ishallgiveupthesebrutalsportswhenwearemarried."

Thedarkyoungladyrosefromherchairandwalkedtothewindow,evidentlyinastateofstrongbutnotunsympatheticcogitation.Whenatlastsheswungroundagainwithanairof

resolutionshewasbewilderedtoobservethattheyoungmanwascarefullylayingoutonthetablevariousobjectsfromtheshop-window.Theyincludedapyramidofhighlycolouredsweets,severalplatesofsandwiches,andthetwodecanterscontainingthatmysteriousportandsherrywhicharepeculiartopastry-cooks.Inthemiddleofthisneatarrangementhehadcarefullyletdowntheenormousloadofwhitesugaredcakewhichhadbeenthehugeornamentofthewindow.

"Whatonearthareyoudoing?"sheasked.



"Duty,mydearLaura,"hebegan.

"Oh,fortheLord'ssake,stopaminute,"shecried,"anddon'ttalktomeinthatway.Imean,whatisallthat?"

"Aceremonialmeal,MissHope."

"Andwhatisthat?"sheaskedimpatiently,pointingtothemountainofsugar.

"Thewedding-cake,Mrs.Angus,"hesaid.

Thegirlmarchedtothatarticle,removeditwithsomeclatter,andputitbackintheshopwindow;shethenreturned,and,puttingherelegantelbowsonthetable,regardedtheyoungmannotunfavourablybutwithconsiderableexasperation.

"Youdon'tgivemeanytimetothink,"shesaid.

"I'mnotsuchafool,"heanswered;"that'smyChristianhumility."

Shewasstilllookingathim;butshehadgrownconsiderably

graverbehindthesmile."Mr.Angus,"shesaidsteadily,"beforethereisaminutemoreofthisnonsenseImusttellyousomethingaboutmyselfasshortlyasIcan.'"

"Delighted,"repliedAngusgravely."Youmighttellmesomethingaboutmyself,too,whileyouareaboutit."

"Oh,doholdyourtongueandlisten,"shesaid."It'snothingthatI'mashamedof,anditisn'tevenanythingthatI'mspeciallysorryabout.Butwhatwouldyousayifthereweresomethingthatisnobusinessofmineandyetismynightmare?"

"Inthatcase,"saidthemanseriously,"Ishouldsuggestthatyoubringbackthecake."

"Well,youmustlistentothestoryfirst,"saidLaura,persistently."Tobeginwith,Imusttellyouthatmyfatherownedtheinncalledthe`RedFish'atLudbury,andIusedtoservepeopleinthebar."

"Ihaveoftenwondered,"hesaid,"whytherewasakindofaChristianairaboutthisoneconfectioner'sshop."

"Ludburyisasleepy,grassylittleholeintheEastern

Counties,andtheonlykindofpeoplewhoevercametothe`RedFish'wereoccasionalcommercialtravellers,andfortherest,themostawfulpeopleyoucansee,onlyyou'veneverseenthem.Imeanlittle,loungymen,whohadjustenoughtoliveonandhadnothingtodobutleanaboutinbar-roomsandbetonhorses,inbadclothesthatwerejusttoogoodforthem.Eventhesewretchedyoungrotterswerenotverycommonatourhouse;butthereweretwoofthemthatwerealottoocommon--commonineverysortofway.Theybothlivedonmoneyoftheirown,andwerewearisomelyidleandover-dressed.ButyetIwasabitsorryforthem,because



Ihalfbelievetheyslunkintoourlittleemptybarbecauseeachofthemhadaslightdeformity;thesortofthingthatsomeyokelslaughat.Itwasn'texactlyadeformityeither;itwasmoreanoddity.Oneofthemwasasurprisinglysmallman,somethinglikeadwarf,oratleastlikeajockey.Hewasnotatalljockeyishtolookat,though;hehadaroundblackheadandawell-trimmedblackbeard,brighteyeslikeabird's;hejingledmoneyinhispockets;hejangledagreatgoldwatchchain;andheneverturnedupexceptdressedjusttoomuchlikeagentlemantobeone.Hewasnofoolthough,thoughafutileidler;hewascuriouslycleveratallkindsofthingsthatcouldn'tbetheslightestuse;asortofimpromptuconjuring;makingfifteenmatchessetfiretoeachotherlikearegularfirework;orcuttingabananaorsomesuchthingintoadancingdoll.HisnamewasIsidoreSmythe;andIcanseehimstill,withhislittledarkface,justcominguptothecounter,makingajumpingkangaroooutoffivecigars.

"Theotherfellowwasmoresilentandmoreordinary;butsomehowhealarmedmemuchmorethanpoorlittleSmythe.Hewasverytallandslight,andlight-haired;hisnosehadahighbridge,andhemightalmosthavebeenhandsomeinaspectralsortofway;buthehadoneofthemostappallingsquintsIhaveeverseenorheardof.Whenhelookedstraightatyou,youdidn'tknowwhereyouwereyourself,letalonewhathewaslookingat.Ifancythis

sortofdisfigurementembitteredthepoorchapalittle;forwhileSmythewasreadytoshowoffhismonkeytricksanywhere,JamesWelkin(thatwasthesquintingman'sname)neverdidanythingexceptsoakinourbarparlour,andgoforgreatwalksbyhimselfintheflat,greycountryallround.Allthesame,IthinkSmythe,too,wasalittlesensitiveaboutbeingsosmall,thoughhecarrieditoffmoresmartly.AndsoitwasthatIwasreallypuzzled,aswellasstartled,andverysorry,whentheybothofferedtomarrymeinthesameweek.

"Well,IdidwhatI'vesincethoughtwasperhapsasillything.But,afterall,thesefreaksweremyfriendsinaway;andIhadahorroroftheirthinkingIrefusedthemfortherealreason,which

wasthattheyweresoimpossiblyugly.SoImadeupsomegasofanothersort,aboutnevermeaningtomarryanyonewhohadn'tcarvedhiswayintheworld.Isaiditwasapointofprinciplewithmenottoliveonmoneythatwasjustinheritedliketheirs.TwodaysafterIhadtalkedinthiswell-meaningsortofway,thewholetroublebegan.ThefirstthingIheardwasthatbothofthemhadgoneofftoseektheirfortunes,asiftheywereinsomesillyfairytale.

"Well,I'veneverseeneitherofthemfromthatdaytothis.ButI'vehadtwolettersfromthelittlemancalledSmythe,andreallytheywereratherexciting."

"Everheardoftheotherman?"askedAngus.

"No,heneverwrote,"saidthegirl,afteraninstant'shesitation."Smythe'sfirstletterwassimplytosaythathehadstartedoutwalkingwithWelkintoLondon;butWelkinwassuchagoodwalkerthatthelittlemandroppedoutofit,andtookarestbytheroadside.Hehappenedtobepickedupbysometravellingshow,and,partlybecausehewasnearlyadwarf,andpartlybecausehewasreallyacleverlittlewretch,hegotonquitewellintheshowbusiness,andwassoonsentuptotheAquarium,todo



sometricksthatIforget.Thatwashisfirstletter.Hissecondwasmuchmoreofastartler,andIonlygotitlastweek."

ThemancalledAngusemptiedhiscoffee-cupandregardedherwithmildandpatienteyes.Herownmouthtookaslighttwistoflaughterassheresumed,"Isupposeyou'veseenonthehoardingsallaboutthis`Smythe'sSilentService'?Oryoumustbetheonlypersonthathasn't.Oh,Idon'tknowmuchaboutit,it'ssomeclockworkinventionfordoingallthehouseworkbymachinery.Youknowthesortofthing:`PressaButton--AButlerwhoNeverDrinks.'`TurnaHandle--TenHousemaidswhoNeverFlirt.'Youmusthaveseentheadvertisements.Well,whateverthesemachinesare,theyaremakingpotsofmoney;andtheyaremakingitallforthatlittleimpwhomIknewdowninLudbury.Ican'thelpfeelingpleasedthepoorlittlechaphasfallenonhisfeet;buttheplainfactis,I'minterrorofhisturningupanyminuteandtellingmehe'scarvedhiswayintheworld--ashecertainlyhas."

"Andtheotherman?"repeatedAnguswithasortofobstinatequietude.

LauraHopegottoherfeetsuddenly."Myfriend,"shesaid,"Ithinkyouareawitch.Yes,youarequiteright.Ihavenotseenalineoftheotherman'swriting;andIhavenomorenotion

thanthedeadofwhatorwhereheis.ButitisofhimthatIamfrightened.Itishewhoisallaboutmypath.Itishewhohashalfdrivenmemad.Indeed,Ithinkhehasdrivenmemad;forIhavefelthimwherehecouldnothavebeen,andIhaveheardhisvoicewhenhecouldnothavespoken."

"Well,mydear,"saidtheyoungman,cheerfully,"ifhewereSatanhimself,heisdonefornowyouhavetoldsomebody.Onegoesmadallalone,oldgirl.Butwhenwasityoufanciedyoufeltandheardoursquintingfriend?"

"IheardJamesWelkinlaughasplainlyasIhearyouspeak,"saidthegirl,steadily."Therewasnobodythere,forIstood

justoutsidetheshopatthecorner,andcouldseedownbothstreetsatonce.Ihadforgottenhowhelaughed,thoughhislaughwasasoddashissquint.Ihadnotthoughtofhimfornearlyayear.Butit'sasolemntruththatafewsecondslaterthefirstlettercamefromhisrival."

"Didyouevermakethespectrespeakorsqueak,oranything?"askedAngus,withsomeinterest.

Laurasuddenlyshuddered,andthensaid,withanunshakenvoice,"Yes.JustwhenIhadfinishedreadingthesecondletterfromIsidoreSmytheannouncinghissuccess.Justthen,IheardWelkinsay,`Heshan'thaveyou,though.'Itwasquiteplain,as

ifhewereintheroom.Itisawful,IthinkImustbemad."

"Ifyoureallyweremad,"saidtheyoungman,"youwouldthinkyoumustbesane.Butcertainlythereseemstometobesomethingalittlerumaboutthisunseengentleman.Twoheadsarebetterthanone--Ispareyouallusionstoanyotherorgansandreally,ifyouwouldallowme,asasturdy,practicalman,tobringbackthewedding-cakeoutofthewindow--"

Evenashespoke,therewasasortofsteelyshriekinthe



streetoutside,andasmallmotor,drivenatdevilishspeed,shotuptothedooroftheshopandstuckthere.Inthesameflashoftimeasmallmaninashinytophatstoodstampingintheouterroom.

Angus,whohadhithertomaintainedhilariouseasefrommotivesofmentalhygiene,revealedthestrainofhissoulbystridingabruptlyoutoftheinnerroomandconfrontingthenew-comer.Aglanceathimwasquitesufficienttoconfirmthesavageguessworkofamaninlove.Thisverydapperbutdwarfishfigure,withthespikeofblackbeardcarriedinsolentlyforward,thecleverunrestfuleyes,theneatbutverynervousfingers,couldbenoneotherthanthemanjustdescribedtohim:IsidoreSmythe,whomadedollsoutofbananaskinsandmatch-boxes;IsidoreSmythe,whomademillionsoutofundrinkingbutlersandunflirtinghousemaidsofmetal.Foramomentthetwomen,instinctivelyunderstandingeachother'sairofpossession,lookedateachotherwiththatcuriouscoldgenerositywhichisthesoulofrivalry.

Mr.Smythe,however,madenoallusiontotheultimategroundoftheirantagonism,butsaidsimplyandexplosively,"HasMissHopeseenthatthingonthewindow?"

"Onthewindow?"repeatedthestaringAngus.

"There'snotimetoexplainotherthings,"saidthesmallmillionaireshortly."There'ssometomfoolerygoingonherethathastobeinvestigated."

Hepointedhispolishedwalking-stickatthewindow,recentlydepletedbythebridalpreparationsofMr.Angus;andthatgentlemanwasastonishedtoseealongthefrontoftheglassalongstripofpaperpasted,whichhadcertainlynotbeenonthewindowwhenhelookedthroughitsometimebefore.FollowingtheenergeticSmytheoutsideintothestreet,hefoundthatsomeyardandahalfofstamppaperhadbeencarefullygummedalongtheglassoutside,andonthiswaswritteninstragglycharacters,

"IfyoumarrySmythe,hewilldie."

"Laura,"saidAngus,puttinghisbigredheadintotheshop,"you'renotmad."

"It'sthewritingofthatfellowWelkin,"saidSmythegruffly."Ihaven'tseenhimforyears,buthe'salwaysbotheringme.Fivetimesinthelastfortnighthe'shadthreateninglettersleftatmyflat,andIcan'tevenfindoutwholeavesthem,letaloneifitisWelkinhimself.Theporteroftheflatsswearsthatnosuspiciouscharactershavebeenseen,andherehehaspastedupasortofdadoonapublicshopwindow,whilethepeopleintheshop--"

"Quiteso,"saidAngusmodestly,"whilethepeopleintheshopwerehavingtea.Well,sir,IcanassureyouIappreciateyourcommonsenseindealingsodirectlywiththematter.Wecantalkaboutotherthingsafterwards.Thefellowcannotbeveryfaroffyet,forIsweartherewasnopapertherewhenIwentlasttothewindow,tenorfifteenminutesago.Ontheotherhand,he'stoofarofftobechased,aswedon'tevenknowthedirection.Ifyou'lltakemyadvice,Mr.Smythe,you'llputthisatonceinthehandsofsomeenergeticinquiryman,privateratherthanpublic.Iknowanextremelycleverfellow,whohassetupinbusinessfive



Thelittlecarshotuptotherighthouselikeabullet,andshotoutitsownerlikeabombshell.Hewasimmediatelyinquiringofatallcommissionaireinshiningbraid,andashortporterinshirtsleeves,whetheranybodyoranythinghadbeenseekinghisapartments.Hewasassuredthatnobodyandnothinghadpassedtheseofficialssincehislastinquiries;whereuponheandtheslightlybewilderedAnguswereshotupintheliftlikearocket,tilltheyreachedthetopfloor.

"Justcomeinforaminute,"saidthebreathlessSmythe."IwanttoshowyouthoseWelkinletters.Thenyoumightrunroundthecornerandfetchyourfriend."Hepressedabuttonconcealedinthewall,andthedooropenedofitself.

Itopenedonalong,commodiousante-room,ofwhichtheonlyarrestingfeatures,ordinarilyspeaking,weretherowsoftallhalf-humanmechanicalfiguresthatstooduponbothsidesliketailors'dummies.Liketailors'dummiestheywereheadless;andliketailors'dummiestheyhadahandsomeunnecessaryhumpinessintheshoulders,andapigeon-breastedprotuberanceofchest;butbarringthis,theywerenotmuchmorelikeahumanfigurethananyautomaticmachineatastationthatisaboutthehumanheight.Theyhadtwogreathookslikearms,forcarryingtrays;andthey

werepaintedpea-green,orvermilion,orblackforconvenienceofdistinction;ineveryotherwaytheywereonlyautomaticmachinesandnobodywouldhavelookedtwiceatthem.Onthisoccasion,atleast,nobodydid.Forbetweenthetworowsofthesedomesticdummieslaysomethingmoreinterestingthanmostofthemechanicsoftheworld.Itwasawhite,tatteredscrapofpaperscrawledwithredink;andtheagileinventorhadsnatcheditupalmostassoonasthedoorflewopen.HehandedittoAnguswithoutaword.Theredinkonitactuallywasnotdry,andthemessageran,"Ifyouhavebeentoseehertoday,Ishallkillyou."

Therewasashortsilence,andthenIsidoreSmythesaidquietly,"Wouldyoulikealittlewhiskey?IratherfeelasifI

should."

"Thankyou;IshouldlikealittleFlambeau,"saidAngus,gloomily."Thisbusinessseemstometobegettingrathergrave.I'mgoingroundatoncetofetchhim."

"Rightyouare,"saidtheother,withadmirablecheerfulness."Bringhimroundhereasquickasyoucan."

ButasAngusclosedthefrontdoorbehindhimhesawSmythepushbackabutton,andoneoftheclockworkimagesglidedfromitsplaceandslidalongagrooveinthefloorcarryingatraywithsyphonanddecanter.Theredidseemsomethingatrifleweird

aboutleavingthelittlemanaloneamongthosedeadservants,whowerecomingtolifeasthedoorclosed.

SixstepsdownfromSmythe'slandingthemaninshirtsleeveswasdoingsomethingwithapail.Angusstoppedtoextractapromise,fortifiedwithaprospectivebribe,thathewouldremaininthatplaceuntilthereturnwiththedetective,andwouldkeepcountofanykindofstrangercomingupthosestairs.Dashingdowntothefronthallhethenlaidsimilarchargesofvigilanceonthecommissionaireatthefrontdoor,fromwhomhelearnedthe



simplifyingcircumstancesthattherewasnobackdoor.Notcontentwiththis,hecapturedthefloatingpolicemanandinducedhimtostandoppositetheentranceandwatchit;andfinallypausedaninstantforapennyworthofchestnuts,andaninquiryastotheprobablelengthofthemerchant'sstayintheneighbourhood.

Thechestnutseller,turningupthecollarofhiscoat,toldhimheshouldprobablybemovingshortly,ashethoughtitwasgoingtosnow.Indeed,theeveningwasgrowinggreyandbitter,butAngus,withallhiseloquence,proceededtonailthechestnutmantohispost.

"Keepyourselfwarmonyourownchestnuts,"hesaidearnestly."Eatupyourwholestock;I'llmakeitworthyourwhile.I'llgiveyouasovereignifyou'llwaitheretillIcomeback,andthentellmewhetheranyman,woman,orchildhasgoneintothathousewherethecommissionaireisstanding."

Hethenwalkedawaysmartly,withalastlookatthebesiegedtower.

"I'vemadearingroundthatroom,anyhow,"hesaid."Theycan'tallfourofthembeMr.Welkin'saccomplices."

LucknowMansionswere,sotospeak,onalowerplatformofthathillofhouses,ofwhichHimylayaMansionsmightbecalledthepeak.Mr.Flambeau'ssemi-officialflatwasonthegroundfloor,andpresentedineverywayamarkedcontrasttotheAmericanmachineryandcoldhotel-likeluxuryoftheflatoftheSilentService.Flambeau,whowasafriendofAngus,receivedhiminarococoartisticdenbehindhisoffice,ofwhichtheornamentsweresabres,harquebuses,Easterncuriosities,flasksofItalianwine,savagecooking-pots,aplumyPersiancat,andasmalldusty-lookingRomanCatholicpriest,wholookedparticularlyoutofplace.

"ThisismyfriendFatherBrown,"saidFlambeau."I'veoftenwantedyoutomeethim.Splendidweather,this;alittlecoldforSouthernerslikeme."

"Yes,Ithinkitwillkeepclear,"saidAngus,sittingdownonaviolet-stripedEasternottoman.

"No,"saidthepriestquietly,"ithasbeguntosnow."

And,indeed,ashespoke,thefirstfewflakes,foreseenbythemanofchestnuts,begantodriftacrossthedarkeningwindowpane.

"Well,"saidAngusheavily."I'mafraidI'vecomeonbusiness,

andratherjumpybusinessatthat.Thefactis,Flambeau,withinastone'sthrowofyourhouseisafellowwhobadlywantsyourhelp;he'sperpetuallybeinghauntedandthreatenedbyaninvisibleenemy--ascoundrelwhomnobodyhasevenseen."AsAngusproceededtotellthewholetaleofSmytheandWelkin,beginningwithLaura'sstory,andgoingonwithhisown,thesupernaturallaughatthecorneroftwoemptystreets,thestrangedistinctwordsspokeninanemptyroom,Flambeaugrewmoreandmorevividlyconcerned,andthelittlepriestseemedtobeleftoutofit,likeapieceoffurniture.Whenitcametothescribbledstamp-paperpastedon



bigshoulders;buttheScotchman,withmorereason,iflessintuition,fumbledaboutontheframeofthedoortillhefoundtheinvisiblebutton;andthedoorswungslowlyopen.

Itshowedsubstantiallythesameserriedinterior;thehallhadgrowndarker,thoughitwasstillstruckhereandtherewiththelastcrimsonshaftsofsunset,andoneortwooftheheadlessmachineshadbeenmovedfromtheirplacesforthisorthatpurpose,andstoodhereandthereaboutthetwilitplace.Thegreenandredoftheircoatswerealldarkenedinthedusk;andtheirlikenesstohumanshapesslightlyincreasedbytheirveryshapelessness.Butinthemiddleofthemall,exactlywherethepaperwiththeredinkhadlain,therelaysomethingthatlookedlikeredinkspiltoutofitsbottle.Butitwasnotredink.

WithaFrenchcombinationofreasonandviolenceFlambeausimplysaid"Murder!"and,plungingintotheflat,hadexplored,everycornerandcupboardofitinfiveminutes.Butifheexpectedtofindacorpsehefoundnone.IsidoreSmythewasnotintheplace,eitherdeadoralive.Afterthemosttearingsearchthetwomenmeteachotherintheouterhall,withstreamingfacesandstaringeyes."Myfriend,"saidFlambeau,talkingFrenchinhisexcitement,"notonlyisyourmurdererinvisible,buthemakesinvisiblealsothemurderedman."

Anguslookedroundatthedimroomfullofdummies,andinsomeCelticcornerofhisScotchsoulashudderstarted.Oneofthelife-sizedollsstoodimmediatelyovershadowingthebloodstain,summoned,perhaps,bytheslainmananinstantbeforehefell.Oneofthehigh-shoulderedhooksthatservedthethingforarms,wasalittlelifted,andAngushadsuddenlythehorridfancythatpoorSmythe'sownironchildhadstruckhimdown.Matterhadrebelled,andthesemachineshadkilledtheirmaster.Butevenso,whathadtheydonewithhim?

"Eatenhim?"saidthenightmareathisear;andhesickenedforaninstantattheideaofrent,humanremainsabsorbedand

crushedintoallthatacephalousclockwork.

Herecoveredhismentalhealthbyanemphaticeffort,andsaidtoFlambeau,"Well,thereitis.Thepoorfellowhasevaporatedlikeacloudandleftaredstreakonthefloor.Thetaledoesnotbelongtothisworld."

"Thereisonlyonethingtobedone,"saidFlambeau,"whetheritbelongstothisworldortheother.Imustgodownandtalktomyfriend."

Theydescended,passingthemanwiththepail,whoagainasseveratedthathehadletnointruderpass,downtothe

commissionaireandthehoveringchestnutman,whorigidlyreassertedtheirownwatchfulness.ButwhenAnguslookedroundforhisfourthconfirmationhecouldnotseeit,andcalledoutwithsomenervousness,"Whereisthepoliceman?"

"Ibegyourpardon,"saidFatherBrown;"thatismyfault.Ijustsenthimdowntheroadtoinvestigatesomething--thatIjustthoughtworthinvestigating."

"Well,wewanthimbackprettysoon,"saidAngusabruptly,



"forthewretchedmanupstairshasnotonlybeenmurdered,butwipedout."

"How?"askedthepriest.

"Father,"saidFlambeau,afterapause,"uponmysoulIbelieveitismoreinyourdepartmentthanmine.Nofriendorfoehasenteredthehouse,butSmytheisgone,asifstolenbythefairies.Ifthatisnotsupernatural,I--"

Ashespoketheywereallcheckedbyanunusualsight;thebigbluepolicemancameroundthecornerofthecrescent,running.HecamestraightuptoBrown.

"You'reright,sir,"hepanted,"they'vejustfoundpoorMr.Smythe'sbodyinthecanaldownbelow."

Angusputhishandwildlytohishead."Didherundownanddrownhimself?"heasked.

"Henevercamedown,I'llswear,"saidtheconstable,"andhewasn'tdrownedeither,forhediedofagreatstabovertheheart."

"Andyetyousawnooneenter?"saidFlambeauinagravevoice.

"Letuswalkdowntheroadalittle,"saidthepriest.

Astheyreachedtheotherendofthecrescentheobservedabruptly,"Stupidofme!Iforgottoaskthepolicemansomething.Iwonderiftheyfoundalightbrownsack."

"Whyalightbrownsack?"askedAngus,astonished.

"Becauseifitwasanyothercolouredsack,thecasemustbeginoveragain,"saidFatherBrown;"butifitwasalightbrownsack,why,thecaseisfinished."

"Iampleasedtohearit,"saidAnguswithheartyirony."Ithasn'tbegun,sofarasIamconcerned."

"Youmusttellusallaboutit,"saidFlambeauwithastrangeheavysimplicity,likeachild.

Unconsciouslytheywerewalkingwithquickeningstepsdownthelongsweepofroadontheothersideofthehighcrescent,FatherBrownleadingbriskly,thoughinsilence.Atlasthesaidwithanalmosttouchingvagueness,"Well,I'mafraidyou'llthinkitsoprosy.Wealwaysbeginattheabstractendofthings,andyoucan'tbeginthisstoryanywhereelse.

"Haveyouevernoticedthis--thatpeopleneveranswerwhatyousay?Theyanswerwhatyoumean--orwhattheythinkyoumean.Supposeoneladysaystoanotherinacountryhouse,`Isanybodystayingwithyou?'theladydoesn'tanswer`Yes;thebutler,thethreefootmen,theparlourmaid,andsoon,'thoughtheparlourmaidmaybeintheroom,orthebutlerbehindherchair.Shesays`Thereisnobodystayingwithus,'meaningnobodyofthesortyoumean.Butsupposeadoctorinquiringintoanepidemicasks,`Whoisstayinginthehouse?'thentheladywillrememberthebutler,theparlourmaid,andtherest.Alllanguageisused



"Notageologicalmuseum,"repliedFlambeau;"sayapsychologicalmuseum."

"Oh,fortheLord'ssake,"criedthepolicedetectivelaughing,"don'tlet'sbeginwithsuchlongwords."

"Don'tyouknowwhatpsychologymeans?"askedFlambeauwithfriendlysurprise."Psychologymeansbeingoffyourchump."

"StillIhardlyfollow,"repliedtheofficial.

"Well,"saidFlambeau,withdecision,"Imeanthatwe'veonlyfoundoutonethingaboutLordGlengyle.Hewasamaniac."

TheblacksilhouetteofGowwithhistophatandspadepassedthewindow,dimlyoutlinedagainstthedarkeningsky.FatherBrownstaredpassivelyatitandanswered:

"Icanunderstandtheremusthavebeensomethingoddabouttheman,orhewouldn'thaveburiedhimselfalive--norbeeninsuchahurrytoburyhimselfdead.Butwhatmakesyouthinkitwaslunacy?"

"Well,"saidFlambeau,"youjustlistentothelistofthings

Mr.Cravenhasfoundinthehouse.""Wemustgetacandle,"saidCraven,suddenly."Astormisgettingup,andit'stoodarktoread."

"Haveyoufoundanycandles,"askedBrownsmiling,"amongyouroddities?"

Flambeauraisedagraveface,andfixedhisdarkeyesonhisfriend.

"Thatiscurious,too,"hesaid."Twenty-fivecandles,andnotatraceofacandlestick."

Intherapidlydarkeningroomandrapidlyrisingwind,Brownwentalongthetabletowhereabundleofwaxcandleslayamongtheotherscrappyexhibits.Ashedidsohebentaccidentallyovertheheapofred-browndust;andasharpsneezecrackedthesilence.

"Hullo!"hesaid,"snuff!"

Hetookoneofthecandles,lititcarefully,camebackandstuckitintheneckofthewhiskybottle.Theunrestfulnightair,blowingthroughthecrazywindow,wavedthelongflamelikeabanner.Andoneverysideofthecastletheycouldhearthemiles

andmilesofblackpinewoodseethinglikeablackseaaroundarock.

"Iwillreadtheinventory,"beganCravengravely,pickinguponeofthepapers,"theinventoryofwhatwefoundlooseandunexplainedinthecastle.Youaretounderstandthattheplacegenerallywasdismantledandneglected;butoneortworoomshadplainlybeeninhabitedinasimplebutnotsqualidstylebysomebody;somebodywhowasnottheservantGow.Thelistisasfollows:



"Firstitem.Averyconsiderablehoardofpreciousstones,nearlyalldiamonds,andallofthemloose,withoutanysettingwhatever.Ofcourse,itisnaturalthattheOgilviesshouldhavefamilyjewels;butthoseareexactlythejewelsthatarealmostalwayssetinparticulararticlesofornament.TheOgilvieswouldseemtohavekepttheirslooseintheirpockets,likecoppers.

"Seconditem.Heapsandheapsofloosesnuff,notkeptinahorn,orevenapouch,butlyinginheapsonthemantelpieces,onthesideboard,onthepiano,anywhere.Itlooksasiftheoldgentlemanwouldnottakethetroubletolookinapocketorliftalid.

"Thirditem.Hereandthereaboutthehousecuriouslittleheapsofminutepiecesofmetal,somelikesteelspringsandsomeintheformofmicroscopicwheels.Asiftheyhadguttedsomemechanicaltoy.

"Fourthitem.Thewaxcandles,whichhavetobestuckinbottlenecksbecausethereisnothingelsetostickthemin.NowIwishyoutonotehowverymuchqueererallthisisthananythingweanticipated.Forthecentralriddleweareprepared;wehaveallseenataglancethattherewassomethingwrongaboutthelast

earl.Wehavecomeheretofindoutwhetherhereallylivedhere,whetherhereallydiedhere,whetherthatred-hairedscarecrowwhodidhisburyinghadanythingtodowithhisdying.Butsupposetheworstinallthis,themostluridormelodramaticsolutionyoulike.Supposetheservantreallykilledthemaster,orsupposethemasterisn'treallydead,orsupposethemasterisdressedupastheservant,orsupposetheservantisburiedforthemaster;inventwhatWilkieCollins'tragedyyoulike,andyoustillhavenotexplainedacandlewithoutacandlestick,orwhyanelderlygentlemanofgoodfamilyshouldhabituallyspillsnuffonthepiano.Thecoreofthetalewecouldimagine;itisthefringesthataremysterious.Bynostretchoffancycanthehumanmindconnecttogethersnuffanddiamondsandwaxandlooseclockwork."

"IthinkIseetheconnection,"saidthepriest."ThisGlengylewasmadagainsttheFrenchRevolution.Hewasanenthusiastfortheancienregime,andwastryingtore-enactliterallythefamilylifeofthelastBourbons.Hehadsnuffbecauseitwastheeighteenthcenturyluxury;waxcandles,becausetheyweretheeighteenthcenturylighting;themechanicalbitsofironrepresentthelocksmithhobbyofLouisXVI;thediamondsarefortheDiamondNecklaceofMarieAntoinette."

Boththeothermenwerestaringathimwithroundeyes."Whataperfectlyextraordinarynotion!"criedFlambeau."Doyoureallythinkthatisthetruth?"

"Iamperfectlysureitisn't,"answeredFatherBrown,"onlyyousaidthatnobodycouldconnectsnuffanddiamondsandclockworkandcandles.Igiveyouthatconnectionoff-hand.Therealtruth,Iamverysure,liesdeeper."

Hepausedamomentandlistenedtothewailingofthewindintheturrets.Thenhesaid,"ThelateEarlofGlengylewasathief.Helivedasecondanddarkerlifeasadesperatehousebreaker.Hedidnothaveanycandlesticksbecauseheonlyusedthesecandles



Brownpickedupthelittleilluminatedpagestoexaminethem.Hespokebeforethedriftofdarknesshadpassed;butitwasthevoiceofanutterlynewman.

"Mr.Craven,"saidhe,talkinglikeamantenyearsyounger,"youhavegotalegalwarrant,haven'tyou,togoupandexaminethatgrave?Thesoonerwedoitthebetter,andgettothebottomofthishorribleaffair.IfIwereyouIshouldstartnow."

"Now,"repeatedtheastonisheddetective,"andwhynow?"

"Becausethisisserious,"answeredBrown;"thisisnotspiltsnufforloosepebbles,thatmightbethereforahundredreasons.ThereisonlyonereasonIknowofforthisbeingdone;andthereasongoesdowntotherootsoftheworld.Thesereligiouspicturesarenotjustdirtiedortornorscrawledover,whichmightbedoneinidlenessorbigotry,bychildrenorbyProtestants.Thesehavebeentreatedverycarefully--andveryqueerly.IneveryplacewherethegreatornamentednameofGodcomesintheoldilluminationsithasbeenelaboratelytakenout.TheonlyotherthingthathasbeenremovedisthehaloroundtheheadoftheChildJesus.Therefore,Isay,letusgetourwarrantandourspadeandourhatchet,andgoupandbreakopenthatcoffin."

"Whatdoyoumean?"demandedtheLondonofficer.

"Imean,"answeredthelittlepriest,andhisvoiceseemedtoriseslightlyintheroarofthegale."Imeanthatthegreatdeviloftheuniversemaybesittingonthetoptowerofthiscastleatthismoment,asbigasahundredelephants,androaringliketheApocalypse.Thereisblackmagicsomewhereatthebottomofthis."

"Blackmagic,"repeatedFlambeauinalowvoice,forhewastooenlightenedamannottoknowofsuchthings;"butwhatcantheseotherthingsmean?"

"Oh,somethingdamnable,Isuppose,"repliedBrownimpatiently."HowshouldIknow?HowcanIguessalltheirmazesdownbelow?Perhapsyoucanmakeatortureoutofsnuffandbamboo.Perhapslunaticslustafterwaxandsteelfilings.Perhapsthereisamaddeningdrugmadeofleadpencils!Ourshortestcuttothemysteryisupthehilltothegrave."

Hiscomradeshardlyknewthattheyhadobeyedandfollowedhimtillablastofthenightwindnearlyflungthemontheirfacesinthegarden.Neverthelesstheyhadobeyedhimlikeautomata;forCravenfoundahatchetinhishand,andthewarrantinhispocket;Flambeauwascarryingtheheavyspadeofthestrangegardener;

FatherBrownwascarryingthelittlegiltbookfromwhichhadbeentornthenameofGod.

Thepathupthehilltothechurchyardwascrookedbutshort;onlyunderthatstressofwinditseemedlaboriousandlong.Farastheeyecouldsee,fartherandfartherastheymountedtheslope,wereseasbeyondseasofpines,nowallaslopeonewayunderthewind.Andthatuniversalgestureseemedasvainasitwasvast,asvainasifthatwindwerewhistlingaboutsomeunpeopledandpurposelessplanet.Throughallthatinfinite



growthofgrey-blueforestssang,shrillandhigh,thatancientsorrowthatisintheheartofallheathenthings.Onecouldfancythatthevoicesfromtheunderworldofunfathomablefoliagewerecriesofthelostandwanderingpagangods:godswhohadgoneroaminginthatirrationalforest,andwhowillneverfindtheirwaybacktoheaven.

"Yousee,"saidFatherBrowninlowbuteasytone,"ScotchpeoplebeforeScotlandexistedwereacuriouslot.Infact,they'reacuriouslotstill.ButintheprehistorictimesIfancytheyreallyworshippeddemons.That,"headdedgenially,"iswhytheyjumpedatthePuritantheology."

"Myfriend,"saidFlambeau,turninginakindoffury,"whatdoesallthatsnuffmean?"

"Myfriend,"repliedBrown,withequalseriousness,"thereisonemarkofallgenuinereligions:materialism.Now,devil-worshipisaperfectlygenuinereligion."

Theyhadcomeuponthegrassyscalpofthehill,oneofthefewbaldspotsthatstoodclearofthecrashingandroaringpineforest.Ameanenclosure,partlytimberandpartlywire,rattledinthetempesttotellthemtheborderofthegraveyard.Butby

thetimeInspectorCravenhadcometothecornerofthegrave,andFlambeauhadplantedhisspadepointdownwardsandleanedonit,theywerebothalmostasshakenastheshakywoodandwire.Atthefootofthegravegrewgreattallthistles,greyandsilverintheirdecay.Onceortwice,whenaballofthistledownbrokeunderthebreezeandflewpasthim,Cravenjumpedslightlyasifithadbeenanarrow.

Flambeaudrovethebladeofhisspadethroughthewhistlinggrassintothewetclaybelow.Thenheseemedtostopandleanonitasonastaff.

"Goon,"saidthepriestverygently."Weareonlytryingto

findthetruth.Whatareyouafraidof?"

"Iamafraidoffindingit,"saidFlambeau.

TheLondondetectivespokesuddenlyinahighcrowingvoicethatwasmeanttobeconversationalandcheery."Iwonderwhyhereallydidhidehimselflikethat.Somethingnasty,Isuppose;washealeper?"

"Somethingworsethanthat,"saidFlambeau.

"Andwhatdoyouimagine,"askedtheother,"wouldbeworsethanaleper?"

"Idon'timagineit,"saidFlambeau.

Hedugforsomedreadfulminutesinsilence,andthensaidinachokedvoice,"I'mafraidofhisnotbeingtherightshape."

"Norwasthatpieceofpaper,youknow,"saidFatherBrownquietly,"andwesurvivedeventhatpieceofpaper."

Flambeaudugonwithablindenergy.Butthetempesthad



actoffaithanditisafood.Andweneedasacrament,ifonlyanaturalone.Somethinghasfallenonusthatfallsveryseldomonmen;perhapstheworstthingthatcanfallonthem."

Craven'spartedlipscametogethertosay,"Whatdoyoumean?"

Thepriesthadturnedhisfacetothecastleasheanswered:"Wehavefoundthetruth;andthetruthmakesnosense."

Hewentdownthepathinfrontofthemwithaplungingandrecklessstepveryrarewithhim,andwhentheyreachedthecastleagainhethrewhimselfuponsleepwiththesimplicityofadog.

Despitehismysticpraiseofslumber,FatherBrownwasupearlierthananyoneelseexceptthesilentgardener;andwasfoundsmokingabigpipeandwatchingthatexpertathisspeechlesslaboursinthekitchengarden.Towardsdaybreaktherockingstormhadendedinroaringrains,andthedaycamewithacuriousfreshness.Thegardenerseemedeventohavebeenconversing,butatsightofthedetectivesheplantedhisspadesullenlyinabedand,sayingsomethingabouthisbreakfast,shiftedalongthelinesofcabbagesandshuthimselfinthekitchen."He'savaluableman,that,"saidFatherBrown."Hedoesthepotatoesamazingly.Still,"headded,withadispassionatecharity,"hehashisfaults;

whichofushasn't?Hedoesn'tdigthisbankquiteregularly.There,forinstance,"andhestampedsuddenlyononespot."I'mreallyverydoubtfulaboutthatpotato."

"Andwhy?"askedCraven,amusedwiththelittleman'shobby.

"I'mdoubtfulaboutit,"saidtheother,"becauseoldGowwasdoubtfulaboutithimself.Heputhisspadeinmethodicallyineveryplacebutjustthis.Theremustbeamightyfinepotatojusthere."

Flambeaupulledupthespadeandimpetuouslydroveitintotheplace.Heturnedup,underaloadofsoil,somethingthatdidnot

looklikeapotato,butratherlikeamonstrous,over-domedmushroom.Butitstruckthespadewithacoldclick;itrolledoverlikeaball,andgrinnedupatthem.

"TheEarlofGlengyle,"saidBrownsadly,andlookeddownheavilyattheskull.

Then,afteramomentarymeditation,hepluckedthespadefromFlambeau,and,saying"Wemusthideitagain,"clampedtheskulldownintheearth.Thenheleanedhislittlebodyandhugeheadonthegreathandleofthespade,thatstoodupstifflyintheearth,andhiseyeswereemptyandhisforeheadfullofwrinkles."Ifonecouldonlyconceive,"hemuttered,"themeaningofthis

lastmonstrosity."Andleaningonthelargespadehandle,heburiedhisbrowsinhishands,asmendoinchurch.

Allthecornersoftheskywerebrighteningintoblueandsilver;thebirdswerechatteringinthetinygardentrees;solouditseemedasifthetreesthemselvesweretalking.Butthethreemenweresilentenough.

"Well,Igiveitallup,"saidFlambeauatlastboisterously."Mybrainandthisworlddon'tfiteachother;andthere'sanend



ofit.Snuff,spoiltPrayerBooks,andtheinsidesofmusicalboxes--what--"

Brownthrewuphisbotheredbrowandrappedonthespadehandlewithanintolerancequiteunusualwithhim."Oh,tut,tut,tut,tut!"hecried."Allthatisasplainasapikestaff.Iunderstoodthesnuffandclockwork,andsoon,whenIfirstopenedmyeyesthismorning.AndsincethenI'vehaditoutwitholdGow,thegardener,whoisneithersodeafnorsostupidashepretends.There'snothingamissaboutthelooseitems.Iwaswrongaboutthetornmass-book,too;there'snoharminthat.Butit'sthislastbusiness.Desecratinggravesandstealingdeadmen'sheads--surelythere'sharminthat?Surelythere'sblackmagicstillinthat?Thatdoesn'tfitintothequitesimplestoryofthesnuffandthecandles."And,stridingaboutagain,hesmokedmoodily.

"Myfriend,"saidFlambeau,withagrimhumour,"youmustbecarefulwithmeandrememberIwasonceacriminal.ThegreatadvantageofthatestatewasthatIalwaysmadeupthestorymyself,andacteditasquickasIchose.ThisdetectivebusinessofwaitingaboutistoomuchformyFrenchimpatience.Allmylife,forgoodorevil,Ihavedonethingsattheinstant;Ialwaysfoughtduelsthenextmorning;Ialwayspaidbillsonthe

nail;Ineverevenputoffavisittothedentist--"FatherBrown'spipefelloutofhismouthandbrokeintothreepiecesonthegravelpath.Hestoodrollinghiseyes,theexactpictureofanidiot."Lord,whataturnipIam!"hekeptsaying."Lord,whataturnip!"Then,inasomewhatgroggykindofway,hebegantolaugh.

"Thedentist!"herepeated."Sixhoursinthespiritualabyss,andallbecauseIneverthoughtofthedentist!Suchasimple,suchabeautifulandpeacefulthought!Friends,wehavepassedanightinhell;butnowthesunisrisen,thebirdsaresinging,andtheradiantformofthedentistconsolestheworld."

"Iwillgetsomesenseoutofthis,"criedFlambeau,stridingforward,"ifIusethetorturesoftheInquisition."

FatherBrownrepressedwhatappearedtobeamomentarydispositiontodanceonthenowsunlitlawnandcriedquitepiteously,likeachild,"Oh,letmebesillyalittle.Youdon'tknowhowunhappyIhavebeen.AndnowIknowthattherehasbeennodeepsininthisbusinessatall.Onlyalittlelunacy,perhaps--andwhomindsthat?"

Hespunroundoncemore,thenfacedthemwithgravity.

"Thisisnotastoryofcrime,"hesaid;"ratheritisthestoryofastrangeandcrookedhonesty.Wearedealingwiththeonemanonearth,perhaps,whohastakennomorethanhisdue.Itisastudyinthesavagelivinglogicthathasbeenthereligionofthisrace.

"ThatoldlocalrhymeaboutthehouseofGlengyle--

AsgreensaptothesimmertreesIsredgoldtotheOgilvies--



grainofsnuff.Heliftedthegoldleafoffanoldillumination,fullysatisfiedthathelefttherestunspoilt.AllthatIunderstood;butIcouldnotunderstandthisskullbusiness.Iwasreallyuneasyaboutthathumanheadburiedamongthepotatoes.Itdistressedme--tillFlambeausaidtheword.

"Itwillbeallright.Hewillputtheskullbackinthegrave,whenhehastakenthegoldoutofthetooth."

And,indeed,whenFlambeaucrossedthehillthatmorning,hesawthatstrangebeing,thejustmiser,diggingatthedesecratedgrave,theplaidroundhisthroatthrashingoutinthemountainwind;thesobertophatonhishead.

TheWrongShape

CertainofthegreatroadsgoingnorthoutofLondoncontinuefarintothecountryasortofattenuatedandinterruptedspectreofastreet,withgreatgapsinthebuilding,butpreservingtheline.Herewillbeagroupofshops,followedbyafencedfieldorpaddock,andthenafamouspublic-house,andthenperhapsamarket

gardenoranurserygarden,andthenonelargeprivatehouse,andthenanotherfieldandanotherinn,andsoon.Ifanyonewalksalongoneoftheseroadshewillpassahousewhichwillprobablycatchhiseye,thoughhemaynotbeabletoexplainitsattraction.Itisalong,lowhouse,runningparallelwiththeroad,paintedmostlywhiteandpalegreen,withaverandaandsun-blinds,andporchescappedwiththosequaintsortofcupolaslikewoodenumbrellasthatoneseesinsomeold-fashionedhouses.Infact,itisanold-fashionedhouse,veryEnglishandverysuburbaninthegoodoldwealthyClaphamsense.Andyetthehousehasalookofhavingbeenbuiltchieflyforthehotweather.Lookingatitswhitepaintandsun-blindsonethinksvaguelyofpugareesandevenofpalmtrees.Icannottracethefeelingtoitsroot;perhaps

theplacewasbuiltbyanAnglo-Indian.

Anyonepassingthishouse,Isay,wouldbenamelesslyfascinatedbyit;wouldfeelthatitwasaplaceaboutwhichsomestorywastobetold.Andhewouldhavebeenright,asyoushallshortlyhear.Forthisisthestory--thestoryofthestrangethingsthatdidreallyhappeninitintheWhitsuntideoftheyear18--:

AnyonepassingthehouseontheThursdaybeforeWhitSundayatabouthalf-pastfourp.m.wouldhaveseenthefrontdooropen,andFatherBrown,ofthesmallchurchofSt.Mungo,comeoutsmokingalargepipeincompanywithaverytallFrenchfriendofhiscalled

Flambeau,whowassmokingaverysmallcigarette.Thesepersonsmayormaynotbeofinteresttothereader,butthetruthisthattheywerenottheonlyinterestingthingsthatweredisplayedwhenthefrontdoorofthewhite-and-greenhousewasopened.Therearefurtherpeculiaritiesaboutthishouse,whichmustbedescribedtostartwith,notonlythatthereadermayunderstandthistragictale,butalsothathemayrealisewhatitwasthattheopeningofthedoorrevealed.

ThewholehousewasbuiltupontheplanofaT,butaTwitha



verylongcrosspieceandaveryshorttailpiece.Thelongcrosspiecewasthefrontagethatranalonginfaceofthestreet,withthefrontdoorinthemiddle;itwastwostorieshigh,andcontainednearlyalltheimportantrooms.Theshorttailpiece,whichranoutatthebackimmediatelyoppositethefrontdoor,wasonestoryhigh,andconsistedonlyoftwolongrooms,theoneleadingintotheother.ThefirstofthesetworoomswasthestudyinwhichthecelebratedMr.QuintonwrotehiswildOrientalpoemsandromances.Thefartherroomwasaglassconservatoryfulloftropicalblossomsofquiteuniqueandalmostmonstrousbeauty,andonsuchafternoonsastheseglowingwithgorgeoussunlight.Thuswhenthehalldoorwasopen,manyapasser-byliterallystoppedtostareandgasp;forhelookeddownaperspectiveofrichapartmentstosomethingreallylikeatransformationsceneinafairyplay:purplecloudsandgoldensunsandcrimsonstarsthatwereatoncescorchinglyvividandyettransparentandfaraway.

LeonardQuinton,thepoet,hadhimselfmostcarefullyarrangedthiseffect;anditisdoubtfulwhetherhesoperfectlyexpressedhispersonalityinanyofhispoems.Forhewasamanwhodrankandbathedincolours,whoindulgedhislustforcoloursomewhattotheneglectofform--evenofgoodform.Thisitwasthathadturnedhisgeniussowhollytoeasternartandimagery;tothosebewilderingcarpetsorblindingembroideriesinwhichallthe

coloursseemfallenintoafortunatechaos,havingnothingtotypifyortoteach.Hehadattempted,notperhapswithcompleteartisticsuccess,butwithacknowledgedimaginationandinvention,tocomposeepicsandlovestoriesreflectingtheriotofviolentandevencruelcolour;talesoftropicalheavensofburninggoldorblood-redcopper;ofeasternheroeswhorodewithtwelve-turbanedmitresuponelephantspaintedpurpleorpeacockgreen;ofgiganticjewelsthatahundrednegroescouldnotcarry,butwhichburnedwithancientandstrange-huedfires.

Inshort(toputthematterfromthemorecommonpointofview),hedealtmuchineasternheavens,ratherworsethanmostwesternhells;ineasternmonarchs,whomwemightpossiblycall

maniacs;andineasternjewelswhichaBondStreetjeweller(ifthehundredstaggeringnegroesbroughtthemintohisshop)mightpossiblynotregardasgenuine.Quintonwasagenius,ifamorbidone;andevenhismorbidityappearedmoreinhislifethaninhiswork.Intemperamenthewasweakandwaspish,andhishealthhadsufferedheavilyfromorientalexperimentswithopium.Hiswife--ahandsome,hard-working,and,indeed,over-workedwomanobjectedtotheopium,butobjectedmuchmoretoaliveIndianhermitinwhiteandyellowrobes,whomherhusbandinsistedonentertainingformonthstogether,aVirgiltoguidehisspiritthroughtheheavensandthehellsoftheeast.

ItwasoutofthisartistichouseholdthatFatherBrownand

hisfriendsteppedontothedoor-step;andtojudgefromtheirfaces,theysteppedoutofitwithmuchrelief.FlambeauhadknownQuintoninwildstudentdaysinParis,andtheyhadrenewedtheacquaintanceforaweek-end;butapartfromFlambeau'smoreresponsibledevelopmentsoflate,hedidnotgetonwellwiththepoetnow.Chokingoneselfwithopiumandwritinglittleeroticversesonvellumwasnothisnotionofhowagentlemanshouldgotothedevil.Asthetwopausedonthedoor-step,beforetakingaturninthegarden,thefrontgardengatewasthrownopenwithviolence,andayoungmanwithabillycockhatonthebackofhis



headtumbledupthestepsinhiseagerness.Hewasadissipated-lookingyouthwithagorgeousrednecktieallawry,asifhehadsleptinit,andhekeptfidgetingandlashingaboutwithoneofthoselittlejointedcanes.

"Isay,"hesaidbreathlessly,"IwanttoseeoldQuinton.Imustseehim.Hashegone?"

"Mr.Quintonisin,Ibelieve,"saidFatherBrown,cleaninghispipe,"butIdonotknowifyoucanseehim.Thedoctoriswithhimatpresent."

Theyoungman,whoseemednottobeperfectlysober,stumbledintothehall;andatthesamemomentthedoctorcameoutofQuinton'sstudy,shuttingthedoorandbeginningtoputonhisgloves.

"SeeMr.Quinton?"saidthedoctorcoolly."No,I'mafraidyoucan't.Infact,youmustn'tonanyaccount.Nobodymustseehim;I'vejustgivenhimhissleepingdraught."

"No,butlookhere,oldchap,"saidtheyouthintheredtie,tryingaffectionatelytocapturethedoctorbythelapelsofhiscoat."Lookhere.I'msimplysewnup,Itellyou.I--"

"It'snogood,Mr.Atkinson,"saidthedoctor,forcinghimtofallback;"whenyoucanaltertheeffectsofadrugI'llaltermydecision,"and,settlingonhishat,hesteppedoutintothesunlightwiththeothertwo.Hewasabull-necked,good-temperedlittlemanwithasmallmoustache,inexpressiblyordinary,yetgivinganimpressionofcapacity.

Theyoungmaninthebillycock,whodidnotseemtobegiftedwithanytactindealingwithpeoplebeyondthegeneralideaofclutchingholdoftheircoats,stoodoutsidethedoor,asdazedasifhehadbeenthrownoutbodily,andsilentlywatchedtheotherthreewalkawaytogetherthroughthegarden.

"Thatwasasound,spankinglieItoldjustnow,"remarkedthemedicalman,laughing."Inpointoffact,poorQuintondoesn'thavehissleepingdraughtfornearlyhalfanhour.ButI'mnotgoingtohavehimbotheredwiththatlittlebeast,whoonlywantstoborrowmoneythathewouldn'tpaybackifhecould.He'sadirtylittlescamp,thoughheisMrs.Quinton'sbrother,andshe'sasfineawomanaseverwalked."

"Yes,"saidFatherBrown."She'sagoodwoman."

"SoIproposetohangaboutthegardentillthecreaturehasclearedoff,"wentonthedoctor,"andthenI'llgointoQuinton

withthemedicine.Atkinsoncan'tgetin,becauseIlockedthedoor."

"Inthatcase,Dr.Harris,"saidFlambeau,"wemightaswellwalkroundatthebackbytheendoftheconservatory.There'snoentrancetoitthatway,butit'sworthseeing,evenfromtheoutside."

"Yes,andImightgetasquintatmypatient,"laughedthedoctor,"forhepreferstolieonanottomanrightattheendof



theconservatoryamidallthoseblood-redpoinsettias;itwouldgivemethecreeps.Butwhatareyoudoing?"

FatherBrownhadstoppedforamoment,andpickedupoutofthelonggrass,whereithadalmostbeenwhollyhidden,aqueer,crookedOrientalknife,inlaidexquisitelyincolouredstonesandmetals.

"Whatisthis?"askedFatherBrown,regardingitwithsomedisfavour.

"Oh,Quinton's,Isuppose,"saidDr.Harriscarelessly;"hehasallsortsofChineseknickknacksabouttheplace.OrperhapsitbelongstothatmildHindooofhiswhomhekeepsonastring."

"WhatHindoo?"askedFatherBrown,stillstaringatthedaggerinhishand.

"Oh,someIndianconjuror,"saidthedoctorlightly;"afraud,ofcourse."

"Youdon'tbelieveinmagic?"askedFatherBrown,withoutlookingup.

"Ocrickey!magic!"saidthedoctor."It'sverybeautiful,"saidthepriestinalow,dreamingvoice;"thecoloursareverybeautiful.Butit'sthewrongshape."

"Whatfor?"askedFlambeau,staring.

"Foranything.It'sthewrongshapeintheabstract.Don'tyoueverfeelthataboutEasternart?Thecoloursareintoxicatinglylovely;buttheshapesaremeanandbad--deliberatelymeanandbad.IhaveseenwickedthingsinaTurkeycarpet."

"MonDieu!"criedFlambeau,laughing.

"TheyarelettersandsymbolsinalanguageIdon'tknow;butIknowtheystandforevilwords,"wentonthepriest,hisvoicegrowinglowerandlower."Thelinesgowrongonpurpose--likeserpentsdoublingtoescape."

"Whatthedevilareyoutalkingabout?"saidthedoctorwithaloudlaugh.

Flambeauspokequietlytohiminanswer."TheFathersometimesgetsthismystic'scloudonhim,"hesaid;"butIgiveyoufairwarningthatIhaveneverknownhimtohaveitexcept

whentherewassomeevilquitenear."

"Oh,rats!"saidthescientist.

"Why,lookatit,"criedFatherBrown,holdingoutthecrookedknifeatarm'slength,asifitweresomeglitteringsnake."Don'tyouseeitisthewrongshape?Don'tyouseethatithasnoheartyandplainpurpose?Itdoesnotpointlikeaspear.Itdoesnotsweeplikeascythe.Itdoesnotlooklikeaweapon.Itlookslikeaninstrumentoftorture."



"Well,asyoudon'tseemtolikeit,"saidthejollyHarris,"ithadbetterbetakenbacktoitsowner.Haven'twecometotheendofthisconfoundedconservatoryyet?Thishouseisthewrongshape,ifyoulike."

"Youdon'tunderstand,"saidFatherBrown,shakinghishead."Theshapeofthishouseisquaint--itisevenlaughable.Butthereisnothingwrongaboutit."

Astheyspoketheycameroundthecurveofglassthatendedtheconservatory,anuninterruptedcurve,fortherewasneitherdoornorwindowbywhichtoenteratthatend.Theglass,however,wasclear,andthesunstillbright,thoughbeginningtoset;andtheycouldseenotonlytheflamboyantblossomsinside,butthefrailfigureofthepoetinabrownvelvetcoatlyinglanguidlyonthesofa,having,apparently,fallenhalfasleepoverabook.Hewasapale,slightman,withloose,chestnuthairandafringeofbeardthatwastheparadoxofhisface,forthebeardmadehimlooklessmanly.Thesetraitswerewellknowntoallthreeofthem;butevenhaditnotbeenso,itmaybedoubtedwhethertheywouldhavelookedatQuintonjustthen.Theireyeswererivetedonanotherobject.

Exactlyintheirpath,immediatelyoutsidetheroundendoftheglassbuilding,wasstandingatallman,whosedraperyfelltohisfeetinfaultlesswhite,andwhosebare,brownskull,face,andneckgleamedinthesettingsunlikesplendidbronze.Hewaslookingthroughtheglassatthesleeper,andhewasmoremotionlessthanamountain.

"Whoisthat?"criedFatherBrown,steppingbackwithahissingintakeofhisbreath.

"Oh,itisonlythatHindoohumbug,"growledHarris;"butIdon'tknowwhatthedeucehe'sdoinghere."

"Itlookslikehypnotism,"saidFlambeau,bitinghisblackmoustache.

"Whyareyouunmedicalfellowsalwaystalkingboshabouthypnotism?"criedthedoctor."Itlooksadealmorelikeburglary."

"Well,wewillspeaktoit,atanyrate,"saidFlambeau,whowasalwaysforaction.OnelongstridetookhimtotheplacewheretheIndianstood.Bowingfromhisgreatheight,whichovertoppedeventheOriental's,hesaidwithplacidimpudence:

"Goodevening,sir.Doyouwantanything?"

Quiteslowly,likeagreatshipturningintoaharbour,thegreatyellowfaceturned,andlookedatlastoveritswhiteshoulder.Theywerestartledtoseethatitsyelloweyelidswerequitesealed,asinsleep."Thankyou,"saidthefaceinexcellentEnglish."Iwantnothing."Then,halfopeningthelids,soastoshowaslitofopalescenteyeball,herepeated,"Iwantnothing."Thenheopenedhiseyeswidewithastartlingstare,said,"Iwantnothing,"andwentrustlingawayintotherapidlydarkeninggarden.



"TheChristianismoremodest,"mutteredFatherBrown;"hewantssomething."

"Whatonearthwashedoing?"askedFlambeau,knittinghisblackbrowsandloweringhisvoice.

"Ishouldliketotalktoyoulater,"saidFatherBrown.

Thesunlightwasstillareality,butitwastheredlightofevening,andthebulkofthegardentreesandbushesgrewblackerandblackeragainstit.Theyturnedroundtheendoftheconservatory,andwalkedinsilencedowntheothersidetogetroundtothefrontdoor.Astheywenttheyseemedtowakesomething,asonestartlesabird,inthedeepercornerbetweenthestudyandthemainbuilding;andagaintheysawthewhite-robedfakirslideoutoftheshadow,andsliproundtowardsthefrontdoor.Totheirsurprise,however,hehadnotbeenalone.TheyfoundthemselvesabruptlypulledupandforcedtobanishtheirbewildermentbytheappearanceofMrs.Quinton,withherheavygoldenhairandsquarepaleface,advancingonthemoutofthetwilight.Shelookedalittlestern,butwasentirelycourteous.

"Goodevening,Dr.Harris,"wasallshesaid."Goodevening,Mrs.Quinton,"saidthelittledoctorheartily."Iamjustgoingtogiveyourhusbandhissleepingdraught."

"Yes,"shesaidinaclearvoice."Ithinkitisquitetime."Andshesmiledatthem,andwentsweepingintothehouse.

"Thatwoman'sover-driven,"saidFatherBrown;"that'sthekindofwomanthatdoesherdutyfortwentyyears,andthendoessomethingdreadful."

Thelittledoctorlookedathimforthefirsttimewithaneye

ofinterest."Didyoueverstudymedicine?"heasked.

"Youhavetoknowsomethingofthemindaswellasthebody,"answeredthepriest;"wehavetoknowsomethingofthebodyaswellasthemind."

"Well,"saidthedoctor,"IthinkI'llgoandgiveQuintonhisstuff."

Theyhadturnedthecornerofthefrontfacade,andwereapproachingthefrontdoorway.Astheyturnedintoittheysawthemaninthewhiterobeforthethirdtime.Hecamesostraighttowardsthefrontdoorthatitseemedquiteincrediblethathehad

notjustcomeoutofthestudyoppositetoit.Yettheyknewthatthestudydoorwaslocked.

FatherBrownandFlambeau,however,keptthisweirdcontradictiontothemselves,andDr.Harriswasnotamantowastehisthoughtsontheimpossible.HepermittedtheomnipresentAsiatictomakehisexit,andthensteppedbrisklyintothehall.Therehefoundafigurewhichhehadalreadyforgotten.TheinaneAtkinsonwasstillhangingabout,hummingandpokingthingswithhisknobbycane.Thedoctor'sfacehada



spasmofdisgustanddecision,andhewhisperedrapidlytohiscompanion:"Imustlockthedooragain,orthisratwillgetin.ButIshallbeoutagainintwominutes."

Herapidlyunlockedthedoorandlockeditagainbehindhim,justbalkingablunderingchargefromtheyoungmaninthebillycock.Theyoungmanthrewhimselfimpatientlyonahallchair.FlambeaulookedataPersianilluminationonthewall;FatherBrown,whoseemedinasortofdaze,dullyeyedthedoor.Inaboutfourminutesthedoorwasopenedagain.Atkinsonwasquickerthistime.Hesprangforward,heldthedooropenforaninstant,andcalledout:"Oh,Isay,Quinton,Iwant--"

FromtheotherendofthestudycametheclearvoiceofQuinton,insomethingbetweenayawnandayellofwearylaughter.

"Oh,Iknowwhatyouwant.Takeit,andleavemeinpeace.I'mwritingasongaboutpeacocks."

Beforethedoorclosedhalfasovereigncameflyingthroughtheaperture;andAtkinson,stumblingforward,caughtitwithsingulardexterity.

"Sothat'ssettled,"saidthedoctor,and,lockingthedoor

savagely,heledthewayoutintothegarden."PoorLeonardcangetalittlepeacenow,"headdedtoFatherBrown;"he'slockedinallbyhimselfforanhourortwo."

"Yes,"answeredthepriest;"andhisvoicesoundedjollyenoughwhenwelefthim."Thenhelookedgravelyroundthegarden,andsawtheloosefigureofAtkinsonstandingandjinglingthehalf-sovereigninhispocket,andbeyond,inthepurpletwilight,thefigureoftheIndiansittingboltuprightuponabankofgrasswithhisfaceturnedtowardsthesettingsun.Thenhesaidabruptly:"WhereisMrs.Quinton!"

"Shehasgoneuptoherroom,"saidthedoctor."Thatishershadowontheblind."

FatherBrownlookedup,andfrowninglyscrutinisedadarkoutlineatthegas-litwindow.

"Yes,"hesaid,"thatishershadow,"andhewalkedayardortwoandthrewhimselfuponagardenseat.

Flambeausatdownbesidehim;butthedoctorwasoneofthoseenergeticpeoplewholivenaturallyontheirlegs.Hewalkedaway,smoking,intothetwilight,andthetwofriendswerelefttogether.

"Myfather,"saidFlambeauinFrench,"whatisthematterwithyou?"

FatherBrownwassilentandmotionlessforhalfaminute,thenhesaid:"Superstitionisirreligious,butthereissomethingintheairofthisplace.Ithinkit'sthatIndian--atleast,partly."

Hesankintosilence,andwatchedthedistantoutlineofthe



Indian,whostillsatrigidasifinprayer.Atfirstsightheseemedmotionless,butasFatherBrownwatchedhimhesawthatthemanswayedeversoslightlywitharhythmicmovement,justasthedarktree-topsswayedeversoslightlyinthewindthatwascreepingupthedimgardenpathsandshufflingthefallenleavesalittle.

Thelandscapewasgrowingrapidlydark,asifforastorm,buttheycouldstillseeallthefiguresintheirvariousplaces.Atkinsonwasleaningagainstatreewithalistlessface;Quinton'swifewasstillatherwindow;thedoctorhadgonestrollingroundtheendoftheconservatory;theycouldseehiscigarlikeawill-o'-the-wisp;andthefakirstillsatrigidandyetrocking,whilethetreesabovehimbegantorockandalmosttoroar.Stormwascertainlycoming.

"WhenthatIndianspoketous,"wentonBrowninaconversationalundertone,"Ihadasortofvision,avisionofhimandallhisuniverse.Yetheonlysaidthesamethingthreetimes.WhenfirsthesaidÌwantnothing,'itmeantonlythathewasimpenetrable,thatAsiadoesnotgiveitselfaway.Thenhesaidagain,Ìwantnothing,'andIknewthathemeantthathewassufficienttohimself,likeacosmos,thatheneedednoGod,neitheradmittedanysins.Andwhenhesaidthethirdtime,Ì

wantnothing,'hesaiditwithblazingeyes.AndIknewthathemeantliterallywhathesaid;thatnothingwashisdesireandhishome;thathewaswearyfornothingasforwine;thatannihilation,themeredestructionofeverythingoranything--"

Twodropsofrainfell;andforsomereasonFlambeaustartedandlookedup,asiftheyhadstunghim.Andthesameinstantthedoctordownbytheendoftheconservatorybeganrunningtowardsthem,callingoutsomethingasheran.

AshecameamongthemlikeabombshelltherestlessAtkinsonhappenedtobetakingaturnnearertothehousefront;andthedoctorclutchedhimbythecollarinaconvulsivegrip."Foul

play!"hecried;"whathaveyoubeendoingtohim,youdog?"

Thepriesthadsprungerect,andhadthevoiceofsteelofasoldierincommand.

"Nofighting,"hecriedcoolly;"weareenoughtoholdanyonewewantto.Whatisthematter,doctor?"

"ThingsarenotrightwithQuinton,"saidthedoctor,quitewhite."Icouldjustseehimthroughtheglass,andIdon'tlikethewayhe'slying.It'snotasIlefthim,anyhow."

"Letusgointohim,"saidFatherBrownshortly."Youcan

leaveMr.Atkinsonalone.IhavehadhiminsightsinceweheardQuinton'svoice."

"Iwillstophereandwatchhim,"saidFlambeauhurriedly."Yougoinandsee."

Thedoctorandthepriestflewtothestudydoor,unlockedit,andfellintotheroom.Indoingsotheynearlyfelloverthelargemahoganytableinthecentreatwhichthepoetusuallywrote;fortheplacewaslitonlybyasmallfirekeptforthe



"Quiteso,"hesaid."AndhereIseethecornersthatweresnippedoff."Andtotheindignationofhiscolleaguehebegantocountthem.

"That'sallright,"hesaid,withanapologeticsmile."Twenty-threesheetscutandtwenty-twocornerscutoffthem.AndasIseeyouareimpatientwewillrejointheothers."

"Whoistotellhiswife?"askedDr.Harris."Willyougoandtellhernow,whileIsendaservantforthepolice?"

"Asyouwill,"saidFatherBrownindifferently.Andhewentouttothehalldoor.

Herealsohefoundadrama,thoughofamoregrotesquesort.ItshowednothinglessthanhisbigfriendFlambeauinanattitudetowhichhehadlongbeenunaccustomed,whileuponthepathwayatthebottomofthestepswassprawlingwithhisbootsintheairtheamiableAtkinson,hisbillycockhatandwalkingcanesentflyinginoppositedirectionsalongthepath.AtkinsonhadatlengthweariedofFlambeau'salmostpaternalcustody,andhadendeavouredtoknockhimdown,whichwasbynomeansasmoothgametoplaywiththeRoidesApaches,evenafterthatmonarch'sabdication.

Flambeauwasabouttoleapuponhisenemyandsecurehimoncemore,whenthepriestpattedhimeasilyontheshoulder.

"MakeitupwithMr.Atkinson,myfriend,"hesaid."Begamutualpardonandsay`Goodnight.'Weneednotdetainhimanylonger."Then,asAtkinsonrosesomewhatdoubtfullyandgatheredhishatandstickandwenttowardsthegardengate,FatherBrownsaidinamoreseriousvoice:"WhereisthatIndian?"

Theyallthree(forthedoctorhadjoinedthem)turnedinvoluntarilytowardsthedimgrassybankamidthetossingtreespurplewithtwilight,wheretheyhadlastseenthebrownman

swayinginhisstrangeprayers.TheIndianwasgone.

"Confoundhim,"criedthedoctor,stampingfuriously."NowIknowthatitwasthatniggerthatdidit."

"Ithoughtyoudidn'tbelieveinmagic,"saidFatherBrownquietly.

"NomoreIdid,"saidthedoctor,rollinghiseyes."IonlyknowthatIloathedthatyellowdevilwhenIthoughthewasashamwizard.AndIshallloathehimmoreifIcometothinkhewasarealone."

"Well,hishavingescapedisnothing,"saidFlambeau."Forwecouldhaveprovednothinganddonenothingagainsthim.Onehardlygoestotheparishconstablewithastoryofsuicideimposedbywitchcraftorauto-suggestion."

MeanwhileFatherBrownhadmadehiswayintothehouse,andnowwenttobreakthenewstothewifeofthedeadman.

Whenhecameoutagainhelookedalittlepaleandtragic,butwhatpassedbetweentheminthatinterviewwasneverknown,even



Thestormthathadslackenedforalittleseemedtobeswellingagain,andtherecameheavymovementsasoffaintthunder.FatherBrownletfalltheashofhiscigarandwenton:

"Therehasbeeninthisincident,"hesaid,"atwisted,ugly,complexqualitythatdoesnotbelongtothestraightboltseitherofheavenorhell.Asoneknowsthecrookedtrackofasnail,Iknowthecrookedtrackofaman."

Thewhitelightningopeneditsenormouseyeinonewink,theskyshutupagain,andthepriestwenton:

"Ofallthesecrookedthings,thecrookedestwastheshapeofthatpieceofpaper.Itwascrookederthanthedaggerthatkilledhim."

"YoumeanthepaperonwhichQuintonconfessedhissuicide,"saidFlambeau.

"ImeanthepaperonwhichQuintonwrote,`Idiebymyownhand,'"answeredFatherBrown."Theshapeofthatpaper,myfriend,wasthewrongshape;thewrongshape,ifeverIhaveseenitinthiswickedworld."

"Itonlyhadacornersnippedoff,"saidFlambeau,"andIunderstandthatallQuinton'spaperwascutthatway."

"Itwasaveryoddway,"saidtheother,"andaverybadway,tomytasteandfancy.Lookhere,Flambeau,thisQuinton--Godreceivehissoul!--wasperhapsabitofacurinsomeways,buthereallywasanartist,withthepencilaswellasthepen.Hishandwriting,thoughhardtoread,wasboldandbeautiful.Ican'tprovewhatIsay;Ican'tproveanything.ButItellyouwiththefullforceofconvictionthathecouldneverhavecutthatmeanlittlepieceoffasheetofpaper.Ifhehadwantedtocutdownpaperforsomepurposeoffittingin,orbindingup,orwhatnot,hewouldhavemadequiteadifferentslashwiththescissors.Do

youremembertheshape?Itwasameanshape.Itwasawrongshape.Likethis.Don'tyouremember?"

Andhewavedhisburningcigarbeforehiminthedarkness,makingirregularsquaressorapidlythatFlambeaureallyseemedtoseethemasfieryhieroglyphicsuponthedarkness--hieroglyphicssuchashisfriendhadspokenof,whichareundecipherable,yetcanhavenogoodmeaning.

"But,"saidFlambeau,asthepriestputhiscigarinhismouthagainandleanedback,staringattheroof,"supposesomebodyelsedidusethescissors.Whyshouldsomebodyelse,cuttingpiecesoffhissermonpaper,makeQuintoncommitsuicide?"

FatherBrownwasstillleaningbackandstaringattheroof,buthetookhiscigaroutofhismouthandsaid:"Quintonneverdidcommitsuicide."

Flambeaustaredathim."Why,confounditall,"hecried,"thenwhydidheconfesstosuicide?"

Thepriestleantforwardagain,settledhiselbowsonhisknees,lookedattheground,andsaid,inalow,distinctvoice:



"Heneverdidconfesstosuicide."

Flambeaulaidhiscigardown."Youmean,"hesaid,"thatthewritingwasforged?"

"No,"saidFatherBrown."Quintonwroteitallright."

"Well,thereyouare,"saidtheaggravatedFlambeau;"Quintonwrote,`Idiebymyownhand,'withhisownhandonaplainpieceofpaper."

"Ofthewrongshape,"saidthepriestcalmly.

"Oh,theshapebedamned!"criedFlambeau."Whathastheshapetodowithit?"

"Thereweretwenty-threesnippedpapers,"resumedBrownunmoved,"andonlytwenty-twopiecessnippedoff.Thereforeoneofthepieceshadbeendestroyed,probablythatfromthewrittenpaper.Doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou?"

AlightdawnedonFlambeau'sface,andhesaid:"TherewassomethingelsewrittenbyQuinton,someotherwords.`TheywilltellyouIdiebymyownhand,'or`Donotbelievethat--'"

"Hotter,asthechildrensay,"saidhisfriend."Butthepiecewashardlyhalfaninchacross;therewasnoroomforoneword,letalonefive.Canyouthinkofanythinghardlybiggerthanacommawhichthemanwithhellinhishearthadtotearawayasatestimonyagainsthim?"

"Icanthinkofnothing,"saidFlambeauatlast.

"Whataboutquotationmarks?"saidthepriest,andflunghiscigarfarintothedarknesslikeashootingstar.

Allwordshadlefttheotherman'smouth,andFatherBrown

said,likeonegoingbacktofundamentals:

"LeonardQuintonwasaromancer,andwaswritinganOrientalromanceaboutwizardryandhypnotism.He--"

Atthismomentthedooropenedbrisklybehindthem,andthedoctorcameoutwithhishaton.Heputalongenvelopeintothepriest'shands.

"That'sthedocumentyouwanted,"hesaid,"andImustbegettinghome.Goodnight."

"Goodnight,"saidFatherBrown,asthedoctorwalkedbriskly

tothegate.Hehadleftthefrontdooropen,sothatashaftofgaslightfelluponthem.InthelightofthisBrownopenedtheenvelopeandreadthefollowingwords:

DEARFATHERBROWN,--VicistiGalilee.Otherwise,damnyoureyes,whichareverypenetratingones.Canitbepossiblethatthereissomethinginallthatstuffofyoursafterall?



IamamanwhohaseversinceboyhoodbelievedinNatureandinallnaturalfunctionsandinstincts,whethermencalledthemmoralorimmoral.LongbeforeIbecameadoctor,whenIwasaschoolboykeepingmiceandspiders,Ibelievedthattobeagoodanimalisthebestthingintheworld.ButjustnowIamshaken;IhavebelievedinNature;butitseemsasifNaturecouldbetrayaman.Cantherebeanythinginyourbosh?Iamreallygettingmorbid.

IlovedQuinton'swife.Whatwastherewronginthat?Naturetoldmeto,andit'slovethatmakestheworldgoround.Ialsothoughtquitesincerelythatshewouldbehappierwithacleananimallikemethanwiththattormentinglittlelunatic.Whatwastherewronginthat?Iwasonlyfacingfacts,likeamanofscience.Shewouldhavebeenhappier.

AccordingtomyowncreedIwasquitefreetokillQuinton,whichwasthebestthingforeverybody,evenhimself.ButasahealthyanimalIhadnonotionofkillingmyself.Iresolved,therefore,thatIwouldneverdoituntilIsawachancethatwouldleavemescotfree.Isawthatchancethismorning.

Ihavebeenthreetimes,alltold,intoQuinton'sstudytoday.ThefirsttimeIwentinhewouldtalkaboutnothingbuttheweirdtale,called"TheCureofaSaint,"whichhewaswriting,whichwasallabouthowsomeIndianhermitmadeanEnglishcolonelkillhimselfbythinkingabouthim.Heshowedmethelastsheets,andevenreadmethelastparagraph,whichwassomethinglikethis:"TheconquerorofthePunjab,amereyellowskeleton,butstillgigantic,managedtolifthimselfonhiselbowandgaspinhisnephew'sear:`Idiebymyownhand,yetIdiemurdered!'"Itsohappenedbyonechanceoutofahundred,thatthoselastwordswerewrittenatthetopofanewsheetofpaper.Ilefttheroom,

andwentoutintothegardenintoxicatedwithafrightfulopportunity.

Wewalkedroundthehouse;andtwomorethingshappenedinmyfavour.YoususpectedanIndian,andyoufoundadaggerwhichtheIndianmightmostprobablyuse.TakingtheopportunitytostuffitinmypocketIwentbacktoQuinton'sstudy,lockedthedoor,andgavehimhissleepingdraught.HewasagainstansweringAtkinsonatall,butIurgedhimtocalloutandquietthefellow,becauseIwantedaclearproofthatQuintonwasalivewhenIlefttheroomforthesecondtime.Quintonlaydownintheconservatory,andIcamethroughthestudy.Iamaquickmanwithmyhands,and

inaminuteandahalfIhaddonewhatIwantedtodo.IhademptiedallthefirstpartofQuinton'sromanceintothefireplace,whereitburnttoashes.ThenIsawthatthequotationmarkswouldn'tdo,soIsnippedthemoff,andtomakeitseemlikelier,snippedthewholequiretomatch.ThenIcameoutwiththeknowledgethatQuinton'sconfessionofsuicidelayonthefronttable,whileQuintonlayalivebutasleepintheconservatorybeyond.



aheadofthem.Itwasalreadyaneasytwilight,inwhichallthingswerevisible,whentheycameunderthehangingroofsandbridgesofthisriversidehamlet.Thehouses,withtheirlong,low,stoopingroofs,seemedtocomedowntodrinkattheriver,likehugegreyandredcattle.Thebroadeningandwhiteningdawnhadalreadyturnedtoworkingdaylightbeforetheysawanylivingcreatureonthewharvesandbridgesofthatsilenttown.Eventuallytheysawaveryplacidandprosperousmaninhisshirtsleeves,withafaceasroundastherecentlysunkenmoon,andraysofredwhiskeraroundthelowarcofit,whowasleaningonapostabovethesluggishtide.Byanimpulsenottobeanalysed,FlambeaurosetohisfullheightintheswayingboatandshoutedatthemantoaskifheknewReedIslandorReedHouse.Theprosperousman'ssmilegrewslightlymoreexpansive,andhesimplypointeduptherivertowardsthenextbendofit.Flambeauwentaheadwithoutfurtherspeech.

Theboattookmanysuchgrassycornersandfollowedmanysuchreedyandsilentreachesofriver;butbeforethesearchhadbecomemonotonoustheyhadswungroundaspeciallysharpangleandcomeintothesilenceofasortofpoolorlake,thesightofwhichinstinctivelyarrestedthem.Forinthemiddleofthiswiderpieceofwater,fringedoneverysidewithrushes,layalong,lowislet,alongwhichranalong,lowhouseorbungalow

builtofbambooorsomekindoftoughtropiccane.Theupstandingrodsofbamboowhichmadethewallswerepaleyellow,theslopingrodsthatmadetheroofwereofdarkerredorbrown,otherwisethelonghousewasathingofrepetitionandmonotony.Theearlymorningbreezerustledthereedsroundtheislandandsanginthestrangeribbedhouseasinagiantpan-pipe.

"ByGeorge!"criedFlambeau;"hereistheplace,afterall!HereisReedIsland,ifevertherewasone.HereisReedHouse,ifitisanywhere.Ibelievethatfatmanwithwhiskerswasafairy."

"Perhaps,"remarkedFatherBrownimpartially."Ifhewas,he

wasabadfairy."

ButevenashespoketheimpetuousFlambeauhadrunhisboatashoreintherattlingreeds,andtheystoodinthelong,quaintisletbesidetheoddandsilenthouse.

Thehousestoodwithitsback,asitwere,totheriverandtheonlylanding-stage;themainentrancewasontheotherside,andlookeddownthelongislandgarden.Thevisitorsapproachedit,therefore,byasmallpathrunningroundnearlythreesidesofthehouse,closeundertheloweaves.Throughthreedifferentwindowsonthreedifferentsidestheylookedinonthesamelong,well-litroom,panelledinlightwood,withalargenumberof

looking-glasses,andlaidoutasforanelegantlunch.Thefrontdoor,whentheycameroundtoitatlast,wasflankedbytwoturquoise-blueflowerpots.Itwasopenedbyabutlerofthedreariertype--long,lean,greyandlistless--whomurmuredthatPrinceSaradinewasfromhomeatpresent,butwasexpectedhourly;thehousebeingkeptreadyforhimandhisguests.Theexhibitionofthecardwiththescrawlofgreeninkawokeaflickeroflifeintheparchmentfaceofthedepressedretainer,anditwaswithacertainshakycourtesythathesuggestedthatthestrangersshouldremain."HisHighnessmaybehereanyminute,"



hesaid,"andwouldbedistressedtohavejustmissedanygentlemanhehadinvited.Wehaveordersalwaystokeepalittlecoldlunchforhimandhisfriends,andIamsurehewouldwishittobeoffered."

Movedwithcuriositytothisminoradventure,Flambeauassentedgracefully,andfollowedtheoldman,whousheredhimceremoniouslyintothelong,lightlypanelledroom.Therewasnothingverynotableaboutit,excepttheratherunusualalternationofmanylong,lowwindowswithmanylong,lowoblongsoflooking-glass,whichgaveasingularairoflightnessandunsubstantialnesstotheplace.Itwassomehowlikelunchingoutofdoors.Oneortwopicturesofaquietkindhunginthecorners,onealargegreyphotographofaveryyoungmaninuniform,anotheraredchalksketchoftwolong-hairedboys.AskedbyFlambeauwhetherthesoldierlypersonwastheprince,thebutleransweredshortlyinthenegative;itwastheprince'syoungerbrother,CaptainStephenSaradine,hesaid.Andwiththattheoldmanseemedtodryupsuddenlyandlosealltasteforconversation.

Afterlunchhadtailedoffwithexquisitecoffeeandliqueurs,theguestswereintroducedtothegarden,thelibrary,andthehousekeeper--adark,handsomelady,ofnolittlemajesty,andratherlikeaplutonicMadonna.Itappearedthatsheandthe

butlerweretheonlysurvivorsoftheprince'soriginalforeignmenagetheotherservantsnowinthehousebeingnewandcollectedinNorfolkbythehousekeeper.ThislatterladywentbythenameofMrs.Anthony,butshespokewithaslightItalianaccent,andFlambeaudidnotdoubtthatAnthonywasaNorfolkversionofsomemoreLatinname.Mr.Paul,thebutler,alsohadafaintlyforeignair,buthewasintongueandtrainingEnglish,asaremanyofthemostpolishedmen-servantsofthecosmopolitannobility.

Prettyanduniqueasitwas,theplacehadaboutitacuriousluminoussadness.Hourspassedinitlikedays.Thelong,well-windowedroomswerefullofdaylight,butitseemedadeaddaylight.Andthroughallotherincidentalnoises,thesoundof

talk,theclinkofglasses,orthepassingfeetofservants,theycouldhearonallsidesofthehousethemelancholynoiseoftheriver.

"Wehavetakenawrongturning,andcometoawrongplace,"saidFatherBrown,lookingoutofthewindowatthegrey-greensedgesandthesilverflood."Nevermind;onecansometimesdogoodbybeingtherightpersoninthewrongplace."

FatherBrown,thoughcommonlyasilent,wasanoddlysympatheticlittleman,andinthosefewbutendlesshoursheunconsciouslysankdeeperintothesecretsofReedHousethanhisprofessionalfriend.Hehadthatknackoffriendlysilencewhich

issoessentialtogossip;andsayingscarcelyaword,heprobablyobtainedfromhisnewacquaintancesallthatinanycasetheywouldhavetold.Thebutlerindeedwasnaturallyuncommunicative.Hebetrayedasullenandalmostanimalaffectionforhismaster;who,hesaid,hadbeenverybadlytreated.Thechiefoffenderseemedtobehishighness'sbrother,whosenamealonewouldlengthentheoldman'slanternjawsandpuckerhisparrotnoseintoasneer.CaptainStephenwasane'er-do-weel,apparently,andhaddrainedhisbenevolentbrotherofhundredsandthousands;forcedhimtoflyfromfashionablelifeandlivequietlyinthis



certainatmosphereoftherestlessandeventheunreliable.Hisfacewasfastidious,buthiseyewaswild;hehadlittlenervoustricks,likeamanshakenbydrinkordrugs,andheneitherhad,norprofessedtohave,hishandonthehelmofhouseholdaffairs.Allthesewerelefttothetwooldservants,especiallytothebutler,whowasplainlythecentralpillarofthehouse.Mr.Paul,indeed,wasnotsomuchabutlerasasortofstewardor,even,chamberlain;hedinedprivately,butwithalmostasmuchpompashismaster;hewasfearedbyalltheservants;andheconsultedwiththeprincedecorously,butsomewhatunbendingly--ratherasifheweretheprince'ssolicitor.Thesombrehousekeeperwasamereshadowincomparison;indeed,sheseemedtoeffaceherselfandwaitonlyonthebutler,andBrownheardnomoreofthosevolcanicwhisperswhichhadhalftoldhimoftheyoungerbrotherwhoblackmailedtheelder.Whethertheprincewasreallybeingthusbledbytheabsentcaptain,hecouldnotbecertain,buttherewassomethinginsecureandsecretiveaboutSaradinethatmadethetalebynomeansincredible.

Whentheywentoncemoreintothelonghallwiththewindowsandthemirrors,yelloweveningwasdroppingoverthewatersandthewillowybanks;andabitternsoundedinthedistancelikeanelfuponhisdwarfishdrum.Thesamesingularsentimentofsomesadandevilfairylandcrossedthepriest'smindagainlikea

littlegreycloud."IwishFlambeauwereback,"hemuttered."Doyoubelieveindoom?"askedtherestlessPrinceSaradinesuddenly.

"No,"answeredhisguest."IbelieveinDoomsday."

Theprinceturnedfromthewindowandstaredathiminasingularmanner,hisfaceinshadowagainstthesunset."Whatdoyoumean?"heasked.

"Imeanthatwehereareonthewrongsideofthetapestry,"answeredFatherBrown."Thethingsthathappenheredonotseem

tomeananything;theymeansomethingsomewhereelse.Somewhereelseretributionwillcomeontherealoffender.Hereitoftenseemstofallonthewrongperson."

Theprincemadeaninexplicablenoiselikeananimal;inhisshadowedfacetheeyeswereshiningqueerly.Anewandshrewdthoughtexplodedsilentlyintheother'smind.WasthereanothermeaninginSaradine'sblendofbrilliancyandabruptness?Wastheprince--Washeperfectlysane?Hewasrepeating,"Thewrongperson--thewrongperson,"manymoretimesthanwasnaturalinasocialexclamation.

ThenFatherBrownawoketardilytoasecondtruth.Inthe

mirrorsbeforehimhecouldseethesilentdoorstandingopen,andthesilentMr.Paulstandinginit,withhisusualpallidimpassiveness.

"Ithoughtitbettertoannounceatonce,"hesaid,withthesamestiffrespectfulnessasofanoldfamilylawyer,"aboatrowedbysixmenhascometothelanding-stage,andthere'sagentlemansittinginthestern."

"Aboat!"repeatedtheprince;"agentleman?"andheroseto



boy'scart-wheel.Theswordflewfromhishandlikeashootingstar,anddivedintothedistantriver.Andhehimselfsankwithsoearth-shakingasubsidencethathebrokeabigrose-treewithhisbodyandshookupintotheskyacloudofredearth--likethesmokeofsomeheathensacrifice.TheSicilianhadmadeblood-offeringtotheghostofhisfather.

Thepriestwasinstantlyonhiskneesbythecorpse;butonlytomaketoosurethatitwasacorpse.Ashewasstilltryingsomelasthopelesstestsheheardforthefirsttimevoicesfromfartheruptheriver,andsawapoliceboatshootuptothelanding-stage,withconstablesandotherimportantpeople,includingtheexcitedPaul.Thelittlepriestrosewithadistinctlydubiousgrimace.

"Now,whyonearth,"hemuttered,"whyonearthcouldn'thehavecomebefore?"

Somesevenminuteslatertheislandwasoccupiedbyaninvasionoftownsfolkandpolice,andthelatterhadputtheirhandsonthevictoriousduellist,rituallyremindinghimthatanythinghesaidmightbeusedagainsthim.

"Ishallnotsayanything,"saidthemonomaniac,witha

wonderfulandpeacefulface."Ishallneversayanythingmore.Iamveryhappy,andIonlywanttobehanged."

Thenheshuthismouthastheyledhimaway,anditisthestrangebutcertaintruththatheneveropeneditagaininthisworld,excepttosay"Guilty"athistrial.

FatherBrownhadstaredatthesuddenlycrowdedgarden,thearrestofthemanofblood,thecarryingawayofthecorpseafteritsexaminationbythedoctor,ratherasonewatchesthebreak-upofsomeuglydream;hewasmotionless,likeamaninanightmare.Hegavehisnameandaddressasawitness,butdeclinedtheirofferofaboattotheshore,andremainedaloneintheisland

garden,gazingatthebrokenrosebushandthewholegreentheatreofthatswiftandinexplicabletragedy.Thelightdiedalongtheriver;mistroseinthemarshybanks;afewbelatedbirdsflittedfitfullyacross.

Stuckstubbornlyinhissub-consciousness(whichwasanunusuallylivelyone)wasanunspeakablecertaintythattherewassomethingstillunexplained.Thissensethathadclungtohimalldaycouldnotbefullyexplainedbyhisfancyabout"looking-glassland."Somehowhehadnotseentherealstory,butsomegameormasque.Andyetpeopledonotgethangedorrunthroughthebodyforthesakeofacharade.

Ashesatonthestepsofthelanding-stageruminatinghegrewconsciousofthetall,darkstreakofasailcomingsilentlydowntheshiningriver,andsprangtohisfeetwithsuchabackrushoffeelingthathealmostwept.

"Flambeau!"hecried,andshookhisfriendbybothhandsagainandagain,muchtotheastonishmentofthatsportsman,ashecameonshorewithhisfishingtackle."Flambeau,"hesaid,"soyou'renotkilled?"



"MyGod!"criedFlambeauafterapause,"he'slaughing!"

"Comeaway,"saidFatherBrown,whowasquitewhite."Comeawayfromthishouseofhell.Letusgetintoanhonestboatagain."

Nighthadsunkonrushesandriverbythetimetheyhadpushedofffromtheisland,andtheywentdown-streaminthedark,warmingthemselveswithtwobigcigarsthatglowedlikecrimsonships'lanterns.FatherBrowntookhiscigaroutofhismouthandsaid:

"Isupposeyoucanguessthewholestorynow?Afterall,it'saprimitivestory.Amanhadtwoenemies.Hewasawiseman.Andsohediscoveredthattwoenemiesarebetterthanone."

"Idonotfollowthat,"answeredFlambeau.

"Oh,it'sreallysimple,"rejoinedhisfriend."Simple,thoughanythingbutinnocent.BoththeSaradineswerescamps,buttheprince,theelder,wasthesortofscampthatgetstothetop,andtheyounger,thecaptain,wasthesortthatsinkstothebottom.Thissqualidofficerfellfrombeggartoblackmailer,and

oneuglydayhegothisholduponhisbrother,theprince.Obviouslyitwasfornolightmatter,forPrincePaulSaradinewasfrankly`fast,'andhadnoreputationtoloseastothemeresinsofsociety.Inplainfact,itwasahangingmatter,andStephenliterallyhadaroperoundhisbrother'sneck.HehadsomehowdiscoveredthetruthabouttheSicilianaffair,andcouldprovethatPaulmurderedoldAntonelliinthemountains.Thecaptainrakedinthehushmoneyheavilyfortenyears,untileventheprince'ssplendidfortunebegantolookalittlefoolish.

"ButPrinceSaradineboreanotherburdenbesideshisblood-suckingbrother.HeknewthatthesonofAntonelli,amerechildatthetimeofthemurder,hadbeentrainedinsavage

Sicilianloyalty,andlivedonlytoavengehisfather,notwiththegibbet(forhelackedStephen'slegalproof),butwiththeoldweaponsofvendetta.Theboyhadpractisedarmswithadeadlyperfection,andaboutthetimethathewasoldenoughtousethemPrinceSaradinebegan,asthesocietypaperssaid,totravel.Thefactisthathebegantofleeforhislife,passingfromplacetoplacelikeahuntedcriminal;butwithonerelentlessmanuponhistrail.ThatwasPrincePaul'sposition,andbynomeansaprettyone.ThemoremoneyhespentoneludingAntonellithelesshehadtosilenceStephen.ThemorehegavetosilenceStephenthelesschancetherewasoffinallyescapingAntonelli.Thenitwasthatheshowedhimselfagreatman--ageniuslikeNapoleon.

"Insteadofresistinghistwoantagonists,hesurrenderedsuddenlytobothofthem.HegavewaylikeaJapanesewrestler,andhisfoesfellprostratebeforehim.Hegaveuptheraceroundtheworld,andhegaveuphisaddresstoyoungAntonelli;thenhegaveupeverythingtohisbrother.HesentStephenmoneyenoughforsmartclothesandeasytravel,withalettersayingroughly:`ThisisallIhaveleft.Youhavecleanedmeout.IstillhavealittlehouseinNorfolk,withservantsandacellar,andifyouwantmorefrommeyoumusttakethat.Comeandtakepossessionifyoulike,andIwilllivetherequietlyasyourfriendoragentor



"Father,"saidFlambeausuddenly,"doyouthinkitwasalladream?"

Thepriestshookhishead,whetherindissentoragnosticism,butremainedmute.Asmellofhawthornandoforchardscametothemthroughthedarkness,tellingthemthatawindwasawake;thenextmomentitswayedtheirlittleboatandswelledtheirsail,andcarriedthemonwarddownthewindingrivertohappierplacesandthehomesofharmlessmen.

TheHammerofGod

ThelittlevillageofBohunBeaconwasperchedonahillsosteepthatthetallspireofitschurchseemedonlylikethepeakofasmallmountain.Atthefootofthechurchstoodasmithy,generallyredwithfiresandalwayslitteredwithhammersandscrapsofiron;oppositetothis,overarudecrossofcobbledpaths,was"TheBlueBoar,"theonlyinnoftheplace.Itwasuponthiscrossway,intheliftingofaleadenandsilverdaybreak,thattwobrothersmetinthestreetandspoke;thoughonewasbeginningthedayandtheotherfinishingit.TheRev.

andHon.WilfredBohunwasverydevout,andwasmakinghiswaytosomeaustereexercisesofprayerorcontemplationatdawn.ColoneltheHon.NormanBohun,hiselderbrother,wasbynomeansdevout,andwassittingineveningdressonthebenchoutside"TheBlueBoar,"drinkingwhatthephilosophicobserverwasfreetoregardeitherashislastglassonTuesdayorhisfirstonWednesday.Thecolonelwasnotparticular.

TheBohunswereoneoftheveryfewaristocraticfamiliesreallydatingfromtheMiddleAges,andtheirpennonhadactuallyseenPalestine.Butitisagreatmistaketosupposethatsuchhousesstandhighinchivalrictradition.Fewexceptthepoorpreservetraditions.Aristocratslivenotintraditionsbutin

fashions.TheBohunshadbeenMohocksunderQueenAnneandMashersunderQueenVictoria.Butlikemorethanoneofthereallyancienthouses,theyhadrottedinthelasttwocenturiesintomeredrunkardsanddandydegenerates,tilltherehadevencomeawhisperofinsanity.Certainlytherewassomethinghardlyhumanaboutthecolonel'swolfishpursuitofpleasure,andhischronicresolutionnottogohometillmorninghadatouchofthehideousclarityofinsomnia.Hewasatall,fineanimal,elderly,butwithhairstillstartlinglyyellow.Hewouldhavelookedmerelyblondeandleonine,buthisblueeyesweresunksodeepinhisfacethattheylookedblack.Theywerealittletooclosetogether.Hehadverylongyellowmoustaches;oneachsideofthemafoldorfurrowfromnostriltojaw,sothatasneerseemed

cutintohisface.Overhiseveningclothesheworeacuriouspaleyellowcoatthatlookedmorelikeaverylightdressinggownthananovercoat,andonthebackofhisheadwasstuckanextraordinarybroad-brimmedhatofabrightgreencolour,evidentlysomeorientalcuriositycaughtupatrandom.Hewasproudofappearinginsuchincongruousattires--proudofthefactthathealwaysmadethemlookcongruous.

Hisbrotherthecuratehadalsotheyellowhairandtheelegance,buthewasbuttoneduptothechininblack,andhis



facewasclean-shaven,cultivated,andalittlenervous.Heseemedtolivefornothingbuthisreligion;butthereweresomewhosaid(notablytheblacksmith,whowasaPresbyterian)thatitwasaloveofGothicarchitectureratherthanofGod,andthathishauntingofthechurchlikeaghostwasonlyanotherandpurerturnofthealmostmorbidthirstforbeautywhichsenthisbrotherragingafterwomenandwine.Thischargewasdoubtful,whiletheman'spracticalpietywasindubitable.Indeed,thechargewasmostlyanignorantmisunderstandingoftheloveofsolitudeandsecretprayer,andwasfoundedonhisbeingoftenfoundkneeling,notbeforethealtar,butinpeculiarplaces,inthecryptsorgallery,oreveninthebelfry.Hewasatthemomentabouttoenterthechurchthroughtheyardofthesmithy,butstoppedandfrownedalittleashesawhisbrother'scavernouseyesstaringinthesamedirection.Onthehypothesisthatthecolonelwasinterestedinthechurchhedidnotwasteanyspeculations.Thereonlyremainedtheblacksmith'sshop,andthoughtheblacksmithwasaPuritanandnoneofhispeople,WilfredBohunhadheardsomescandalsaboutabeautifulandrathercelebratedwife.Heflungasuspiciouslookacrosstheshed,andthecolonelstooduplaughingtospeaktohim.

"Goodmorning,Wilfred,"hesaid."LikeagoodlandlordIamwatchingsleeplesslyovermypeople.Iamgoingtocallonthe

blacksmith."Wilfredlookedattheground,andsaid:"Theblacksmithisout.HeisoveratGreenford."

"Iknow,"answeredtheotherwithsilentlaughter;"thatiswhyIamcallingonhim."

"Norman,"saidthecleric,withhiseyeonapebbleintheroad,"areyoueverafraidofthunderbolts?"

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedthecolonel."Isyourhobbymeteorology?"

"Imean,"saidWilfred,withoutlookingup,"doyoueverthinkthatGodmightstrikeyouinthestreet?"

"Ibegyourpardon,"saidthecolonel;"Iseeyourhobbyisfolk-lore."

"Iknowyourhobbyisblasphemy,"retortedthereligiousman,stungintheoneliveplaceofhisnature."ButifyoudonotfearGod,youhavegoodreasontofearman."

Theelderraisedhiseyebrowspolitely."Fearman?"hesaid.

"Barnestheblacksmithisthebiggestandstrongestmanforfortymilesround,"saidtheclergymansternly."Iknowyouarenocowardorweakling,buthecouldthrowyouoverthewall."

Thisstruckhome,beingtrue,andtheloweringlinebymouthandnostrildarkenedanddeepened.Foramomenthestoodwiththeheavysneeronhisface.ButinaninstantColonelBohunhadrecoveredhisowncruelgoodhumourandlaughed,showingtwodog-likefrontteethunderhisyellowmoustache."Inthatcase,mydearWilfred,"hesaidquitecarelessly,"itwaswiseforthe



lastoftheBohunstocomeoutpartiallyinarmour."

Andhetookoffthequeerroundhatcoveredwithgreen,showingthatitwaslinedwithinwithsteel.WilfredrecogniseditindeedasalightJapaneseorChinesehelmettorndownfromatrophythathungintheoldfamilyhall.

"Itwasthefirsthattohand,"explainedhisbrotherairily;"alwaysthenearesthat--andthenearestwoman."

"TheblacksmithisawayatGreenford,"saidWilfredquietly;"thetimeofhisreturnisunsettled."

Andwiththatheturnedandwentintothechurchwithbowedhead,crossinghimselflikeonewhowishestobequitofanuncleanspirit.HewasanxioustoforgetsuchgrossnessinthecooltwilightofhistallGothiccloisters;butonthatmorningitwasfatedthathisstillroundofreligiousexercisesshouldbeeverywherearrestedbysmallshocks.Asheenteredthechurch,hithertoalwaysemptyatthathour,akneelingfigurerosehastilytoitsfeetandcametowardsthefulldaylightofthedoorway.Whenthecuratesawithestoodstillwithsurprise.Fortheearlyworshipperwasnoneotherthanthevillageidiot,anephewoftheblacksmith,onewhoneitherwouldnorcouldcareforthe

churchorforanythingelse.Hewasalwayscalled"MadJoe,"andseemedtohavenoothername;hewasadark,strong,slouchinglad,withaheavywhiteface,darkstraighthair,andamouthalwaysopen.Ashepassedthepriest,hismoon-calfcountenancegavenohintofwhathehadbeendoingorthinkingof.Hehadneverbeenknowntopraybefore.Whatsortofprayerswashesayingnow?Extraordinaryprayerssurely.

WilfredBohunstoodrootedtothespotlongenoughtoseetheidiotgooutintothesunshine,andeventoseehisdissolutebrotherhailhimwithasortofavuncularjocularity.ThelastthinghesawwasthecolonelthrowingpenniesattheopenmouthofJoe,withtheseriousappearanceoftryingtohitit.

Thisuglysunlitpictureofthestupidityandcrueltyoftheearthsenttheasceticfinallytohisprayersforpurificationandnewthoughts.Hewentuptoapewinthegallery,whichbroughthimunderacolouredwindowwhichhelovedandalwaysquietedhisspirit;abluewindowwithanangelcarryinglilies.Therehebegantothinklessaboutthehalf-wit,withhislividfaceandmouthlikeafish.Hebegantothinklessofhisevilbrother,pacinglikealeanlioninhishorriblehunger.Hesankdeeperanddeeperintothosecoldandsweetcoloursofsilverblossomsandsapphiresky.

InthisplacehalfanhourafterwardshewasfoundbyGibbs,

thevillagecobbler,whohadbeensentforhiminsomehaste.Hegottohisfeetwithpromptitude,forheknewthatnosmallmatterwouldhavebroughtGibbsintosuchaplaceatall.Thecobblerwas,asinmanyvillages,anatheist,andhisappearanceinchurchwasashademoreextraordinarythanMadJoe's.Itwasamorningoftheologicalenigmas.

"Whatisit?"askedWilfredBohunratherstiffly,butputtingoutatremblinghandforhishat.



Theatheistspokeinatonethat,comingfromhim,wasquitestartlinglyrespectful,andeven,asitwere,huskilysympathetic.

"Youmustexcuseme,sir,"hesaidinahoarsewhisper,"butwedidn'tthinkitrightnottoletyouknowatonce.I'mafraidaratherdreadfulthinghashappened,sir.I'mafraidyourbrother--"

Wilfredclenchedhisfrailhands."Whatdevilryhashedonenow?"hecriedinvoluntarypassion.

"Why,sir,"saidthecobbler,coughing,"I'mafraidhe'sdonenothing,andwon'tdoanything.I'mafraidhe'sdonefor.Youhadreallybettercomedown,sir."

Thecuratefollowedthecobblerdownashortwindingstairwhichbroughtthemoutatanentranceratherhigherthanthestreet.Bohunsawthetragedyinoneglance,flatunderneathhimlikeaplan.Intheyardofthesmithywerestandingfiveorsixmenmostlyinblack,oneinaninspector'suniform.Theyincludedthedoctor,thePresbyterianminister,andthepriestfromtheRomanCatholicchapel,towhichtheblacksmith'swifebelonged.Thelatterwasspeakingtoher,indeed,veryrapidly,inanundertone,asshe,amagnificentwomanwithred-goldhair,was

sobbingblindlyonabench.Betweenthesetwogroups,andjustclearofthemainheapofhammers,layamanineveningdress,spread-eagledandflatonhisface.FromtheheightaboveWilfredcouldhavesworntoeveryitemofhiscostumeandappearance,downtotheBohunringsuponhisfingers;buttheskullwasonlyahideoussplash,likeastarofblacknessandblood.

WilfredBohungavebutoneglance,andrandownthestepsintotheyard.Thedoctor,whowasthefamilyphysician,salutedhim,buthescarcelytookanynotice.Hecouldonlystammerout:"Mybrotherisdead.Whatdoesitmean?Whatisthishorriblemystery?"Therewasanunhappysilence;andthenthecobbler,themostoutspokenmanpresent,answered:"Plentyofhorror,sir,"he

said;"butnotmuchmystery."

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedWilfred,withawhiteface.

"It'splainenough,"answeredGibbs."Thereisonlyonemanforfortymilesroundthatcouldhavestrucksuchablowasthat,andhe'sthemanthathadmostreasonto."

"Wemustnotprejudgeanything,"putinthedoctor,atall,black-beardedman,rathernervously;"butitiscompetentformetocorroboratewhatMr.Gibbssaysaboutthenatureoftheblow,sir;itisanincredibleblow.Mr.Gibbssaysthatonlyonemaninthisdistrictcouldhavedoneit.Ishouldhavesaidmyself

thatnobodycouldhavedoneit."

Ashudderofsuperstitionwentthroughtheslightfigureofthecurate."Icanhardlyunderstand,"hesaid.

"Mr.Bohun,"saidthedoctorinalowvoice,"metaphorsliterallyfailme.Itisinadequatetosaythattheskullwassmashedtobitslikeaneggshell.Fragmentsofboneweredrivenintothebodyandthegroundlikebulletsintoamudwall.Itwasthehandofagiant."



Evenashespokethetallsmithswungroundthecornerofthechurch,andstrodeintohisownyard.Thenhestoodtherequitestill,andthehammerfellfromhishand.Theinspector,whohadpreservedimpenetrablepropriety,immediatelywentuptohim.

"Iwon'taskyou,Mr.Barnes,"hesaid,"whetheryouknowanythingaboutwhathashappenedhere.Youarenotboundtosay.Ihopeyoudon'tknow,andthatyouwillbeabletoproveit.ButImustgothroughtheformofarrestingyouintheKing'snameforthemurderofColonelNormanBohun."

"Youarenotboundtosayanything,"saidthecobblerinofficiousexcitement."They'vegottoproveeverything.Theyhaven'tprovedyetthatitisColonelBohun,withtheheadallsmasheduplikethat."

"Thatwon'twash,"saidthedoctorasidetothepriest."That'soutofthedetectivestories.Iwasthecolonel'smedicalman,andIknewhisbodybetterthanhedid.Hehadveryfinehands,butquitepeculiarones.Thesecondandthirdfingerswerethesamelength.Oh,that'sthecolonelrightenough."

Asheglancedatthebrainedcorpseuponthegroundtheironeyesofthemotionlessblacksmithfollowedthemandrestedthere

also."IsColonelBohundead?"saidthesmithquitecalmly."Thenhe'sdamned."

"Don'tsayanything!Oh,don'tsayanything,"criedtheatheistcobbler,dancingaboutinanecstasyofadmirationoftheEnglishlegalsystem.FornomanissuchalegalistasthegoodSecularist.

Theblacksmithturnedonhimoverhisshouldertheaugustfaceofafanatic.

"It'swellforyouinfidelstododgelikefoxesbecausetheworld'slawfavoursyou,"hesaid;"butGodguardsHisowninHispocket,asyoushallseethisday."

Thenhepointedtothecolonelandsaid:"Whendidthisdogdieinhissins?"

"Moderateyourlanguage,"saidthedoctor.

"ModeratetheBible'slanguage,andI'llmoderatemine.Whendidhedie?"

"Isawhimaliveatsixo'clockthismorning,"stammered

WilfredBohun.

"Godisgood,"saidthesmith."Mr.Inspector,Ihavenottheslightestobjectiontobeingarrested.Itisyouwhomayobjecttoarrestingme.Idon'tmindleavingthecourtwithoutastainonmycharacter.Youdomindperhapsleavingthecourtwithabadset-backinyourcareer."

Thesolidinspectorforthefirsttimelookedattheblacksmithwithalivelyeye;asdideverybodyelse,exceptthe



short,strangepriest,whowasstilllookingdownatthelittlehammerthathaddealtthedreadfulblow.

"Therearetwomenstandingoutsidethisshop,"wentontheblacksmithwithponderouslucidity,"goodtradesmeninGreenfordwhomyouallknow,whowillswearthattheysawmefrombeforemidnighttilldaybreakandlongafterinthecommitteeroomofourRevivalMission,whichsitsallnight,wesavesoulssofast.InGreenforditselftwentypeoplecouldsweartomeforallthattime.IfIwereaheathen,Mr.Inspector,Iwouldletyouwalkontoyourdownfall.ButasaChristianmanIfeelboundtogiveyouyourchance,andaskyouwhetheryouwillhearmyalibinoworincourt."

Theinspectorseemedforthefirsttimedisturbed,andsaid,"OfcourseIshouldbegladtoclearyoualtogethernow."

Thesmithwalkedoutofhisyardwiththesamelongandeasystride,andreturnedtohistwofriendsfromGreenford,whowereindeedfriendsofnearlyeveryonepresent.Eachofthemsaidafewwordswhichnooneeverthoughtofdisbelieving.Whentheyhadspoken,theinnocenceofSimeonstoodupassolidasthegreatchurchabovethem.

Oneofthosesilencesstruckthegroupwhicharemorestrangeandinsufferablethananyspeech.Madly,inordertomakeconversation,thecuratesaidtotheCatholicpriest:

"Youseemverymuchinterestedinthathammer,FatherBrown."

"Yes,Iam,"saidFatherBrown;"whyisitsuchasmallhammer?"

Thedoctorswungroundonhim.

"ByGeorge,that'strue,"hecried;"whowouldusealittlehammerwithtenlargerhammerslyingabout?"

Thenheloweredhisvoiceinthecurate'searandsaid:"Onlythekindofpersonthatcan'tliftalargehammer.Itisnotaquestionofforceorcouragebetweenthesexes.It'saquestionofliftingpowerintheshoulders.Aboldwomancouldcommittenmurderswithalighthammerandneverturnahair.Shecouldnotkillabeetlewithaheavyone."

WilfredBohunwasstaringathimwithasortofhypnotisedhorror,whileFatherBrownlistenedwithhisheadalittleononeside,reallyinterestedandattentive.Thedoctorwentonwithmorehissingemphasis:

"Whydotheseidiotsalwaysassumethattheonlypersonwhohatesthewife'sloveristhewife'shusband?Ninetimesoutoftenthepersonwhomosthatesthewife'sloveristhewife.Whoknowswhatinsolenceortreacheryhehadshownher--lookthere!"

Hemadeamomentarygesturetowardsthered-hairedwomanonthebench.Shehadliftedherheadatlastandthetearsweredryingonhersplendidface.Buttheeyeswerefixedonthecorpsewithanelectricglarethathadinitsomethingofidiocy.



TheRev.WilfredBohunmadealimpgestureasifwavingawayalldesiretoknow;butFatherBrown,dustingoffhissleevesomeashesblownfromthefurnace,spokeinhisindifferentway.

"Youarelikesomanydoctors,"hesaid;"yourmentalscienceisreallysuggestive.Itisyourphysicalsciencethatisutterlyimpossible.Iagreethatthewomanwantstokilltheco-respondentmuchmorethanthepetitionerdoes.AndIagreethatawomanwillalwayspickupasmallhammerinsteadofabigone.Butthedifficultyisoneofphysicalimpossibility.Nowomaneverborncouldhavesmashedaman'sskulloutflatlikethat."Thenheaddedreflectively,afterapause:"Thesepeoplehaven'tgraspedthewholeofit.Themanwasactuallywearinganironhelmet,andtheblowscattereditlikebrokenglass.Lookatthatwoman.Lookatherarms."

Silenceheldthemallupagain,andthenthedoctorsaidrathersulkily:"Well,Imaybewrong;thereareobjectionstoeverything.ButIsticktothemainpoint.Nomanbutanidiotwouldpickupthatlittlehammerifhecoulduseabighammer."

WiththattheleanandquiveringhandsofWilfredBohunwentuptohisheadandseemedtoclutchhisscantyyellowhair.Afteraninstanttheydropped,andhecried:"ThatwasthewordIwanted;

youhavesaidtheword."Thenhecontinued,masteringhisdiscomposure:"Thewordsyousaidwere,`Nomanbutanidiotwouldpickupthesmallhammer.'"

"Yes,"saidthedoctor."Well?"

"Well,"saidthecurate,"nomanbutanidiotdid."Thereststaredathimwitheyesarrestedandriveted,andhewentoninafebrileandfeminineagitation.

"Iamapriest,"hecriedunsteadily,"andapriestshouldbenoshedderofblood.I--Imeanthatheshouldbringnooneto

thegallows.AndIthankGodthatIseethecriminalclearlynow--becauseheisacriminalwhocannotbebroughttothegallows."

"Youwillnotdenouncehim?"inquiredthedoctor.

"HewouldnotbehangedifIdiddenouncehim,"answeredWilfredwithawildbutcuriouslyhappysmile."WhenIwentintothechurchthismorningIfoundamadmanprayingthere--thatpoorJoe,whohasbeenwrongallhislife.Godknowswhatheprayed;butwithsuchstrangefolkitisnotincredibletosupposethattheirprayersareallupsidedown.Verylikelyalunaticwouldpraybeforekillingaman.WhenIlastsawpoorJoehewaswithmybrother.Mybrotherwasmockinghim."

"ByJove!"criedthedoctor,"thisistalkingatlast.Buthowdoyouexplain--"

TheRev.Wilfredwasalmosttremblingwiththeexcitementofhisownglimpseofthetruth."Don'tyousee;don'tyousee,"hecriedfeverishly;"thatistheonlytheorythatcoversboththequeerthings,thatanswersboththeriddles.Thetworiddlesarethelittlehammerandthebigblow.Thesmithmighthavestruckthebigblow,butwouldnothavechosenthelittlehammer.His



wifewouldhavechosenthelittlehammer,butshecouldnothavestruckthebigblow.Butthemadmanmighthavedoneboth.Asforthelittlehammer--why,hewasmadandmighthavepickedupanything.Andforthebigblow,haveyouneverheard,doctor,thatamaniacinhisparoxysmmayhavethestrengthoftenmen?"

Thedoctordrewadeepbreathandthensaid,"Bygolly,Ibelieveyou'vegotit."

FatherBrownhadfixedhiseyesonthespeakersolongandsteadilyastoprovethathislargegrey,ox-likeeyeswerenotquitesoinsignificantastherestofhisface.Whensilencehadfallenhesaidwithmarkedrespect:"Mr.Bohun,yoursistheonlytheoryyetpropoundedwhichholdswatereverywayandisessentiallyunassailable.Ithink,therefore,thatyoudeservetobetold,onmypositiveknowledge,thatitisnotthetrueone."Andwiththattheoldlittlemanwalkedawayandstaredagainatthehammer.

"Thatfellowseemstoknowmorethanheoughtto,"whisperedthedoctorpeevishlytoWilfred."Thosepopishpriestsaredeucedlysly."

"No,no,"saidBohun,withasortofwildfatigue."Itwas

thelunatic.Itwasthelunatic."Thegroupofthetwoclericsandthedoctorhadfallenawayfromthemoreofficialgroupcontainingtheinspectorandthemanhehadarrested.Now,however,thattheirownpartyhadbrokenup,theyheardvoicesfromtheothers.Thepriestlookedupquietlyandthenlookeddownagainasheheardtheblacksmithsayinaloudvoice:

"IhopeI'veconvincedyou,Mr.Inspector.I'mastrongman,asyousay,butIcouldn'thaveflungmyhammerbangherefromGreenford.Myhammerhasn'tgotwingsthatitshouldcomeflyinghalfamileoverhedgesandfields."

Theinspectorlaughedamicablyandsaid:"No,Ithinkyoucanbeconsideredoutofit,thoughit'soneoftherummiestcoincidencesIeversaw.Icanonlyaskyoutogiveusalltheassistanceyoucaninfindingamanasbigandstrongasyourself.ByGeorge!youmightbeuseful,ifonlytoholdhim!Isupposeyouyourselfhavenoguessattheman?"

"Imayhaveaguess,"saidthepalesmith,"butitisnotataman."Then,seeingthescaredeyesturntowardshiswifeonthebench,heputhishugehandonhershoulderandsaid:"Norawomaneither."

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedtheinspectorjocularly."Youdon'tthinkcowsusehammers,doyou?"

"Ithinknothingoffleshheldthathammer,"saidtheblacksmithinastifledvoice;"mortallyspeaking,Ithinkthemandiedalone."

Wilfredmadeasuddenforwardmovementandpeeredathimwithburningeyes.



"Doyoumeantosay,Barnes,"camethesharpvoiceofthecobbler,"thatthehammerjumpedupofitselfandknockedthemandown?"

"Oh,yougentlemenmaystareandsnigger,"criedSimeon;"youclergymenwhotellusonSundayinwhatastillnesstheLordsmoteSennacherib.IbelievethatOnewhowalksinvisibleineveryhousedefendedthehonourofmine,andlaidthedefilerdeadbeforethedoorofit.Ibelievetheforceinthatblowwasjusttheforcethereisinearthquakes,andnoforceless."

Wilfredsaid,withavoiceutterlyundescribable:"ItoldNormanmyselftobewareofthethunderbolt."

"Thatagentisoutsidemyjurisdiction,"saidtheinspectorwithaslightsmile.

"YouarenotoutsideHis,"answeredthesmith;"seeyoutoit,"and,turninghisbroadback,hewentintothehouse.

TheshakenWilfredwasledawaybyFatherBrown,whohadaneasyandfriendlywaywithhim."Letusgetoutofthishorridplace,Mr.Bohun,"hesaid."MayIlookinsideyourchurch?Ihearit'soneoftheoldestinEngland.Wetakesomeinterest,

youknow,"headdedwithacomicalgrimace,"inoldEnglishchurches."

WilfredBohundidnotsmile,forhumourwasneverhisstrongpoint.Buthenoddedrathereagerly,beingonlytooreadytoexplaintheGothicsplendourstosomeonemorelikelytobesympatheticthanthePresbyterianblacksmithortheatheistcobbler.

"Byallmeans,"hesaid;"letusgoinatthisside."Andheledthewayintothehighsideentranceatthetopoftheflightofsteps.FatherBrownwasmountingthefirststeptofollowhimwhenhefeltahandonhisshoulder,andturnedtobeholdthedark,

thinfigureofthedoctor,hisfacedarkeryetwithsuspicion.

"Sir,"saidthephysicianharshly,"youappeartoknowsomesecretsinthisblackbusiness.MayIaskifyouaregoingtokeepthemtoyourself?"

"Why,doctor,"answeredthepriest,smilingquitepleasantly,"thereisoneverygoodreasonwhyamanofmytradeshouldkeepthingstohimselfwhenheisnotsureofthem,andthatisthatitissoconstantlyhisdutytokeepthemtohimselfwhenheissureofthem.ButifyouthinkIhavebeendiscourteouslyreticentwithyouoranyone,Iwillgototheextremelimitofmycustom.Iwillgiveyoutwoverylargehints."

"Well,sir?"saidthedoctorgloomily.

"First,"saidFatherBrownquietly,"thethingisquiteinyourownprovince.Itisamatterofphysicalscience.Theblacksmithismistaken,notperhapsinsayingthattheblowwasdivine,butcertainlyinsayingthatitcamebyamiracle.Itwasnomiracle,doctor,exceptinsofarasmanishimselfamiracle,withhisstrangeandwickedandyethalf-heroicheart.Theforcethatsmashedthatskullwasaforcewellknowntoscientists--



oneofthemostfrequentlydebatedofthelawsofnature."

Thedoctor,whowaslookingathimwithfrowningintentness,onlysaid:"Andtheotherhint?"

"Theotherhintisthis,"saidthepriest."Doyouremembertheblacksmith,thoughhebelievesinmiracles,talkingscornfullyoftheimpossiblefairytalethathishammerhadwingsandflewhalfamileacrosscountry?"

"Yes,"saidthedoctor,"Irememberthat."

"Well,"addedFatherBrown,withabroadsmile,"thatfairytalewasthenearestthingtotherealtruththathasbeensaidtoday."Andwiththatheturnedhisbackandstumpedupthestepsafterthecurate.

TheReverendWilfred,whohadbeenwaitingforhim,paleandimpatient,asifthislittledelaywerethelaststrawforhisnerves,ledhimimmediatelytohisfavouritecornerofthechurch,thatpartofthegalleryclosesttothecarvedroofandlitbythewonderfulwindowwiththeangel.ThelittleLatinpriestexploredandadmiredeverythingexhaustively,talkingcheerfullybutinalowvoiceallthetime.Wheninthecourseofhisinvestigation

hefoundthesideexitandthewindingstairdownwhichWilfredhadrushedtofindhisbrotherdead,FatherBrownrannotdownbutup,withtheagilityofamonkey,andhisclearvoicecamefromanouterplatformabove.

"Comeuphere,Mr.Bohun,"hecalled."Theairwilldoyougood."

Bohunfollowedhim,andcameoutonakindofstonegalleryorbalconyoutsidethebuilding,fromwhichonecouldseetheillimitableplaininwhichtheirsmallhillstood,woodedawaytothepurplehorizonanddottedwithvillagesandfarms.Clearandsquare,butquitesmallbeneaththem,wastheblacksmith'syard,

wheretheinspectorstillstoodtakingnotesandthecorpsestilllaylikeasmashedfly.

"Mightbethemapoftheworld,mightn'tit?"saidFatherBrown.

"Yes,"saidBohunverygravely,andnoddedhishead.

ImmediatelybeneathandaboutthemthelinesoftheGothicbuildingplungedoutwardsintothevoidwithasickeningswiftnessakintosuicide.ThereisthatelementofTitanenergyinthearchitectureoftheMiddleAgesthat,fromwhateveraspectitbeseen,italwaysseemstoberushingaway,likethestrongbackof

somemaddenedhorse.Thischurchwashewnoutofancientandsilentstone,beardedwitholdfungoidsandstainedwiththenestsofbirds.Andyet,whentheysawitfrombelow,itspranglikeafountainatthestars;andwhentheysawit,asnow,fromabove,itpouredlikeacataractintoavoicelesspit.ForthesetwomenonthetowerwereleftalonewiththemostterribleaspectofGothic;themonstrousforeshorteninganddisproportion,thedizzyperspectives,theglimpsesofgreatthingssmallandsmallthingsgreat;atopsy-turvydomofstoneinthemid-air.Detailsofstone,enormousbytheirproximity,wererelievedagainstapatternof



fieldsandfarms,pygmyintheirdistance.Acarvedbirdorbeastatacornerseemedlikesomevastwalkingorflyingdragonwastingthepasturesandvillagesbelow.Thewholeatmospherewasdizzyanddangerous,asifmenwereupheldinairamidthegyratingwingsofcolossalgenii;andthewholeofthatoldchurch,astallandrichasacathedral,seemedtosituponthesunlitcountrylikeacloudburst.

"Ithinkthereissomethingratherdangerousaboutstandingonthesehighplaceseventopray,"saidFatherBrown."Heightsweremadetobelookedat,nottobelookedfrom."

"Doyoumeanthatonemayfallover,"askedWilfred.

"Imeanthatone'ssoulmayfallifone'sbodydoesn't,"saidtheotherpriest.

"Iscarcelyunderstandyou,"remarkedBohunindistinctly.

"Lookatthatblacksmith,forinstance,"wentonFatherBrowncalmly;"agoodman,butnotaChristian--hard,imperious,unforgiving.Well,hisScotchreligionwasmadeupbymenwhoprayedonhillsandhighcrags,andlearnttolookdownontheworldmorethantolookupatheaven.Humilityisthemotherof

giants.Oneseesgreatthingsfromthevalley;onlysmallthingsfromthepeak."

"Buthe--hedidn'tdoit,"saidBohuntremulously.

"No,"saidtheotherinanoddvoice;"weknowhedidn'tdoit."

Afteramomentheresumed,lookingtranquillyoutovertheplainwithhispalegreyeyes."Iknewaman,"hesaid,"whobeganbyworshippingwithothersbeforethealtar,butwhogrewfondofhighandlonelyplacestoprayfrom,cornersornichesinthebelfryorthespire.Andonceinoneofthosedizzyplaces,

wherethewholeworldseemedtoturnunderhimlikeawheel,hisbrainturnedalso,andhefanciedhewasGod.Sothat,thoughhewasagoodman,hecommittedagreatcrime."

Wilfred'sfacewasturnedaway,buthisbonyhandsturnedblueandwhiteastheytightenedontheparapetofstone.

"Hethoughtitwasgiventohimtojudgetheworldandstrikedownthesinner.Hewouldneverhavehadsuchathoughtifhehadbeenkneelingwithothermenuponafloor.Buthesawallmenwalkingaboutlikeinsects.Hesawoneespeciallystruttingjustbelowhim,insolentandevidentbyabrightgreenhat--apoisonousinsect."

Rookscawedroundthecornersofthebelfry;buttherewasnoothersoundtillFatherBrownwenton.

"Thisalsotemptedhim,thathehadinhishandoneofthemostawfulenginesofnature;Imeangravitation,thatmadandquickeningrushbywhichallearth'screaturesflybacktoherheartwhenreleased.See,theinspectorisstruttingjustbelowusinthesmithy.IfIweretotossapebbleoverthisparapetitwouldbesomethinglikeabulletbythetimeitstruckhim.IfI



clock-towerofParliamentandthehumblerhumpedshouldersoftheAbbey,fortheshortmanwasinclericaldress.TheofficialdescriptionofthetallmanwasM.HerculeFlambeau,privatedetective,andhewasgoingtohisnewofficesinanewpileofflatsfacingtheAbbeyentrance.TheofficialdescriptionoftheshortmanwastheReverendJ.Brown,attachedtoSt.FrancisXavier'sChurch,Camberwell,andhewascomingfromaCamberwelldeathbedtoseethenewofficesofhisfriend.

ThebuildingwasAmericaninitssky-scrapingaltitude,andAmericanalsointheoiledelaborationofitsmachineryoftelephonesandlifts.Butitwasbarelyfinishedandstillunderstaffed;onlythreetenantshadmovedin;theofficejustaboveFlambeauwasoccupied,asalsowastheofficejustbelowhim;thetwofloorsabovethatandthethreefloorsbelowwereentirelybare.Butthefirstglanceatthenewtowerofflatscaughtsomethingmuchmorearresting.Saveforafewrelicsofscaffolding,theoneglaringobjectwaserectedoutsidetheofficejustaboveFlambeau's.Itwasanenormousgilteffigyofthehumaneye,surroundedwithraysofgold,andtakingupasmuchroomastwoorthreeoftheofficewindows.

"Whatonearthisthat?"askedFatherBrown,andstoodstill."Oh,anewreligion,"saidFlambeau,laughing;"oneofthosenew

religionsthatforgiveyoursinsbysayingyouneverhadany.RatherlikeChristianScience,Ishouldthink.ThefactisthatafellowcallinghimselfKalon(Idon'tknowwhathisnameis,exceptthatitcan'tbethat)hastakentheflatjustaboveme.Ihavetwoladytypewritersunderneathme,andthisenthusiasticoldhumbugontop.HecallshimselftheNewPriestofApollo,andheworshipsthesun."

"Lethimlookout,"saidFatherBrown."Thesunwasthecruellestofallthegods.Butwhatdoesthatmonstrouseyemean?"

"AsIunderstandit,itisatheoryoftheirs,"answeredFlambeau,"thatamancanendureanythingifhismindisquite

steady.Theirtwogreatsymbolsarethesunandtheopeneye;fortheysaythatifamanwerereallyhealthyhecouldstareatthesun."

"Ifamanwerereallyhealthy,"saidFatherBrown,"hewouldnotbothertostareatit."

"Well,that'sallIcantellyouaboutthenewreligion,"wentonFlambeaucarelessly."Itclaims,ofcourse,thatitcancureallphysicaldiseases."

"Canitcuretheonespiritualdisease?"askedFatherBrown,withaseriouscuriosity.

"Andwhatistheonespiritualdisease?"askedFlambeau,smiling.

"Oh,thinkingoneisquitewell,"saidhisfriend.

Flambeauwasmoreinterestedinthequietlittleofficebelowhimthanintheflamboyanttempleabove.HewasalucidSoutherner,incapableofconceivinghimselfasanythingbutaCatholicoranatheist;andnewreligionsofabrightandpallid



sortwerenotmuchinhisline.Buthumanitywasalwaysinhisline,especiallywhenitwasgood-looking;moreover,theladiesdownstairswerecharactersintheirway.Theofficewaskeptbytwosisters,bothslightanddark,oneofthemtallandstriking.Shehadadark,eagerandaquilineprofile,andwasoneofthosewomenwhomonealwaysthinksofinprofile,asoftheclean-cutedgeofsomeweapon.Sheseemedtocleaveherwaythroughlife.Shehadeyesofstartlingbrilliancy,butitwasthebrilliancyofsteelratherthanofdiamonds;andherstraight,slimfigurewasashadetoostiffforitsgrace.Heryoungersisterwaslikehershortenedshadow,alittlegreyer,paler,andmoreinsignificant.Theybothworeabusiness-likeblack,withlittlemasculinecuffsandcollars.Therearethousandsofsuchcurt,strenuousladiesintheofficesofLondon,buttheinterestoftheselayratherintheirrealthantheirapparentposition.

ForPaulineStacey,theelder,wasactuallytheheiressofacrestandhalfacounty,aswellasgreatwealth;shehadbeenbroughtupincastlesandgardens,beforeafrigidfierceness(peculiartothemodernwoman)haddrivenhertowhatsheconsideredaharsherandahigherexistence.Shehadnot,indeed,surrenderedhermoney;inthattherewouldhavebeenaromanticormonkishabandonquitealientohermasterfulutilitarianism.Sheheldherwealth,shewouldsay,foruseuponpracticalsocial

objects.Partofitshehadputintoherbusiness,thenucleusofamodeltypewritingemporium;partofitwasdistributedinvariousleaguesandcausesfortheadvancementofsuchworkamongwomen.HowfarJoan,hersisterandpartner,sharedthisslightlyprosaicidealismnoonecouldbeverysure.Butshefollowedherleaderwithadog-likeaffectionwhichwassomehowmoreattractive,withitstouchoftragedy,thanthehard,highspiritsoftheelder.ForPaulineStaceyhadnothingtosaytotragedy;shewasunderstoodtodenyitsexistence.

HerrigidrapidityandcoldimpatiencehadamusedFlambeauverymuchonthefirstoccasionofhisenteringtheflats.Hehadlingeredoutsidetheliftintheentrancehallwaitingforthe

lift-boy,whogenerallyconductsstrangerstothevariousfloors.Butthisbright-eyedfalconofagirlhadopenlyrefusedtoenduresuchofficialdelay.Shesaidsharplythatsheknewallaboutthelift,andwasnotdependentonboys--ormeneither.Thoughherflatwasonlythreefloorsabove,shemanagedinthefewsecondsofascenttogiveFlambeauagreatmanyofherfundamentalviewsinanoff-handmanner;theyweretothegeneraleffectthatshewasamodernworkingwomanandlovedmodernworkingmachinery.Herbrightblackeyesblazedwithabstractangeragainstthosewhorebukemechanicscienceandaskforthereturnofromance.Everyone,shesaid,oughttobeabletomanagemachines,justasshecouldmanagethelift.SheseemedalmosttoresentthefactofFlambeauopeningthelift-doorforher;andthatgentlemanwent

uptohisownapartmentssmilingwithsomewhatmingledfeelingsatthememoryofsuchspit-fireself-dependence.

Shecertainlyhadatemper,ofasnappy,practicalsort;thegesturesofherthin,eleganthandswereabruptorevendestructive.

OnceFlambeauenteredherofficeonsometypewritingbusiness,andfoundshehadjustflungapairofspectaclesbelongingtohersisterintothemiddleofthefloorandstampedonthem.Shewas



crownedwiththegoldencirclet,inwhichhedailysalutedthesun,hereallylookedsosplendidthatthelaughterofthestreetpeoplesometimesdiedsuddenlyontheirlips.Forthreetimesinthedaythenewsun-worshipperwentoutonhislittlebalcony,inthefaceofallWestminster,tosaysomelitanytohisshininglord:onceatdaybreak,onceatsunset,andonceattheshockofnoon.AnditwaswhiletheshockofnoonstillshookfaintlyfromthetowersofParliamentandparishchurchthatFatherBrown,thefriendofFlambeau,firstlookedupandsawthewhitepriestofApollo.

FlambeauhadseenquiteenoughofthesedailysalutationsofPhoebus,andplungedintotheporchofthetallbuildingwithoutevenlookingforhisclericalfriendtofollow.ButFatherBrown,whetherfromaprofessionalinterestinritualorastrongindividualinterestintomfoolery,stoppedandstaredupatthebalconyofthesun-worshipper,justashemighthavestoppedandstaredupataPunchandJudy.KalontheProphetwasalreadyerect,withargentgarmentsandupliftedhands,andthesoundofhisstrangelypenetratingvoicecouldbeheardallthewaydownthebusystreetutteringhissolarlitany.Hewasalreadyinthemiddleofit;hiseyeswerefixedupontheflamingdisc.Itisdoubtfulifhesawanythingoranyoneonthisearth;itissubstantiallycertainthathedidnotseeastunted,round-facedpriestwho,inthecrowdbelow,lookedupathimwithblinking

eyes.Thatwasperhapsthemoststartlingdifferencebetweeneventhesetwofardividedmen.FatherBrowncouldnotlookatanythingwithoutblinking;butthepriestofApollocouldlookontheblazeatnoonwithoutaquiveroftheeyelid.

"Osun,"criedtheprophet,"Ostarthatarttoogreattobeallowedamongthestars!Ofountainthatflowestquietlyinthatsecretspotthatiscalledspace.WhiteFatherofallwhiteunweariedthings,whiteflamesandwhiteflowersandwhitepeaks.Father,whoartmoreinnocentthanallthymostinnocentandquietchildren;primalpurity,intothepeaceofwhich--"

Arushandcrashlikethereversedrushofarocketwascloven

withastridentandincessantyelling.Fivepeoplerushedintothegateofthemansionsasthreepeoplerushedout,andforaninstanttheyalldeafenedeachother.Thesenseofsomeutterlyabrupthorrorseemedforamomenttofillhalfthestreetwithbadnews--badnewsthatwasalltheworsebecausenooneknewwhatitwas.Twofiguresremainedstillafterthecrashofcommotion:thefairpriestofApolloonthebalconyabove,andtheuglypriestofChristbelowhim.

AtlastthetallfigureandtitanicenergyofFlambeauappearedinthedoorwayofthemansionsanddominatedthelittlemob.Talkingatthetopofhisvoicelikeafog-horn,hetoldsomebodyoranybodytogoforasurgeon;andasheturnedback

intothedarkandthrongedentrancehisfriendFatherBrowndippedininsignificantlyafterhim.Evenasheduckedanddivedthroughthecrowdhecouldstillhearthemagnificentmelodyandmonotonyofthesolarprieststillcallingonthehappygodwhoisthefriendoffountainsandflowers.

FatherBrownfoundFlambeauandsomesixotherpeoplestandingroundtheenclosedspaceintowhichtheliftcommonlydescended.Butthelifthadnotdescended.Somethingelsehaddescended;somethingthatoughttohavecomebyalift.



ForthelastfourminutesFlambeauhadlookeddownonit;hadseenthebrainedandbleedingfigureofthatbeautifulwomanwhodeniedtheexistenceoftragedy.HehadneverhadtheslightestdoubtthatitwasPaulineStacey;and,thoughhehadsentforadoctor,hehadnottheslightestdoubtthatshewasdead.

Hecouldnotrememberforcertainwhetherhehadlikedherordislikedher;therewassomuchbothtolikeanddislike.Butshehadbeenapersontohim,andtheunbearablepathosofdetailsandhabitstabbedhimwithallthesmalldaggersofbereavement.Herememberedherprettyfaceandpriggishspeecheswithasuddensecretvividnesswhichisallthebitternessofdeath.Inaninstantlikeaboltfromtheblue,likeathunderboltfromnowhere,thatbeautifulanddefiantbodyhadbeendasheddowntheopenwellofthelifttodeathatthebottom.Wasitsuicide?Withsoinsolentanoptimistitseemedimpossible.Wasitmurder?Butwhowasthereinthosehardlyinhabitedflatstomurderanybody?Inarushofraucouswords,whichhemeanttobestrongandsuddenlyfoundweak,heaskedwherewasthatfellowKalon.Avoice,habituallyheavy,quietandfull,assuredhimthatKalonforthelastfifteenminuteshadbeenawayuponhisbalconyworshippinghisgod.WhenFlambeauheardthevoice,andfeltthehandofFatherBrown,heturnedhisswarthyfaceandsaidabruptly:

"Then,ifhehasbeenupthereallthetime,whocanhavedoneit?"

"Perhaps,"saidtheother,"wemightgoupstairsandfindout.Wehavehalfanhourbeforethepolicewillmove."

Leavingthebodyoftheslainheiressinchargeofthesurgeons,Flambeaudashedupthestairstothetypewritingoffice,founditutterlyempty,andthendasheduptohisown.Havingenteredthat,heabruptlyreturnedwithanewandwhitefacetohisfriend.

"Hersister,"hesaid,withanunpleasantseriousness,"hersisterseemstohavegoneoutforawalk."

FatherBrownnodded."Or,shemayhavegoneuptotheofficeofthatsunman,"hesaid."IfIwereyouIshouldjustverifythat,andthenletusalltalkitoverinyouroffice.No,"headdedsuddenly,asifrememberingsomething,"shallIevergetoverthatstupidityofmine?Ofcourse,intheirofficedownstairs."

Flambeaustared;buthefollowedthelittlefatherdownstairstotheemptyflatoftheStaceys,wherethatimpenetrablepastortookalargered-leatherchairintheveryentrance,fromwhichhe

couldseethestairsandlandings,andwaited.Hedidnotwaitverylong.Inaboutfourminutesthreefiguresdescendedthestairs,alikeonlyintheirsolemnity.ThefirstwasJoanStacey,thesisterofthedeadwoman--evidentlyshehadbeenupstairsinthetemporarytempleofApollo;thesecondwasthepriestofApollohimself,hislitanyfinished,sweepingdowntheemptystairsinuttermagnificence--somethinginhiswhiterobes,beardandpartedhairhadthelookofDore'sChristleavingthePretorium;thethirdwasFlambeau,blackbrowedandsomewhatbewildered.



MissJoanStacey,dark,withadrawnfaceandhairprematurelytouchedwithgrey,walkedstraighttoherowndeskandsetoutherpaperswithapracticalflap.Themereactionralliedeveryoneelsetosanity.IfMissJoanStaceywasacriminal,shewasacoolone.FatherBrownregardedherforsometimewithanoddlittlesmile,andthen,withouttakinghiseyesoffher,addressedhimselftosomebodyelse.

"Prophet,"hesaid,presumablyaddressingKalon,"Iwishyouwouldtellmealotaboutyourreligion."

"Ishallbeproudtodoit,"saidKalon,inclininghisstillcrownedhead,"butIamnotsurethatIunderstand."

"Why,it'slikethis,"saidFatherBrown,inhisfranklydoubtfulway:"Wearetaughtthatifamanhasreallybadfirstprinciples,thatmustbepartlyhisfault.But,forallthat,wecanmakesomedifferencebetweenamanwhoinsultshisquiteclearconscienceandamanwithaconsciencemoreorlesscloudedwithsophistries.Now,doyoureallythinkthatmurderiswrongatall?"

"Isthisanaccusation?"askedKalonveryquietly.

"No,"answeredBrown,equallygently,"itisthespeechforthedefence."

InthelongandstartledstillnessoftheroomtheprophetofApolloslowlyrose;andreallyitwasliketherisingofthesun.HefilledthatroomwithhislightandlifeinsuchamannerthatamanfelthecouldaseasilyhavefilledSalisburyPlain.Hisrobedformseemedtohangthewholeroomwithclassicdraperies;hisepicgestureseemedtoextenditintogranderperspectives,tillthelittleblackfigureofthemodernclericseemedtobeafaultandanintrusion,around,blackblotuponsomesplendourofHellas.

"Wemeetatlast,Caiaphas,"saidtheprophet."Yourchurchandminearetheonlyrealitiesonthisearth.Iadorethesun,andyouthedarkeningofthesun;youarethepriestofthedyingandIofthelivingGod.Yourpresentworkofsuspicionandslanderisworthyofyourcoatandcreed.Allyourchurchisbutablackpolice;youareonlyspiesanddetectivesseekingtotearfrommenconfessionsofguilt,whetherbytreacheryortorture.Youwouldconvictmenofcrime,Iwouldconvictthemofinnocence.Youwouldconvincethemofsin,Iwouldconvincethemofvirtue.

"Readerofthebooksofevil,onemorewordbeforeIblowawayyourbaselessnightmaresforever.Notevenfaintlycouldyou

understandhowlittleIcarewhetheryoucanconvictmeorno.Thethingsyoucalldisgraceandhorriblehangingaretomenomorethananogreinachild'stoy-booktoamanoncegrownup.Yousaidyouwereofferingthespeechforthedefence.IcaresolittleforthecloudlandofthislifethatIwillofferyouthespeechfortheprosecution.Thereisbutonethingthatcanbesaidagainstmeinthismatter,andIwillsayitmyself.Thewomanthatisdeadwasmyloveandmybride;notaftersuchmannerasyourtinchapelscalllawful,butbyalawpurerandsternerthanyouwilleverunderstand.SheandIwalkedanotherworld



maddisorder."Whatdoyoumean?Howdareyou?"hecriedrepeatedly.

"InPauline'seyes,"repeatedthepriest,hisownshiningmoreandmore."Goon--inGod'sname,goon.Thefoulestcrimethefiendseverpromptedfeelslighterafterconfession;andIimploreyoutoconfess.Goon,goon--inPauline'seyes--"

"Letmego,youdevil!"thunderedKalon,strugglinglikeagiantinbonds."Whoareyou,youcursedspy,toweaveyourspiders'websroundme,andpeepandpeer?Letmego."

"ShallIstophim?"askedFlambeau,boundingtowardstheexit,forKalonhadalreadythrownthedoorwideopen.

"No;lethimpass,"saidFatherBrown,withastrangedeepsighthatseemedtocomefromthedepthsoftheuniverse."LetCainpassby,forhebelongstoGod."

Therewasalong-drawnsilenceintheroomwhenhehadleftit,whichwastoFlambeau'sfiercewitsonelongagonyofinterrogation.MissJoanStaceyverycoollytidiedupthepapersonherdesk.

"Father,"saidFlambeauatlast,"itismyduty,notmycuriosityonly--itismydutytofindout,ifIcan,whocommittedthecrime."

"Whichcrime?"askedFatherBrown.

"Theonewearedealingwith,ofcourse,"repliedhisimpatientfriend.

"Wearedealingwithtwocrimes,"saidBrown,"crimesofverydifferentweight--andbyverydifferentcriminals."

MissJoanStacey,havingcollectedandputawayherpapers,

proceededtolockupherdrawer.FatherBrownwenton,noticingheraslittleasshenoticedhim.

"Thetwocrimes,"heobserved,"werecommittedagainstthesameweaknessofthesameperson,inastruggleforhermoney.Theauthorofthelargercrimefoundhimselfthwartedbythesmallercrime;theauthorofthesmallercrimegotthemoney."

"Oh,don'tgoonlikealecturer,"groanedFlambeau;"putitinafewwords."

"Icanputitinoneword,"answeredhisfriend.

MissJoanStaceyskeweredherbusiness-likeblackhatontoherheadwithabusiness-likeblackfrownbeforealittlemirror,and,astheconversationproceeded,tookherhandbagandumbrellainanunhurriedstyle,andlefttheroom.

"Thetruthisoneword,andashortone,"saidFatherBrown."PaulineStaceywasblind."

"Blind!"repeatedFlambeau,androseslowlytohiswholehugestature.



minutes."

FatherBrowngaveasortofstart.

"Oh!tohim,"hesaid."No;IhadtofollowratherclosetofindoutaboutMissJoanandthefountainpen.ButIknewKalonwasthecriminalbeforeIcameintothefrontdoor."

"Youmustbejoking!"criedFlambeau.

"I'mquiteserious,"answeredthepriest."ItellyouIknewhehaddoneit,evenbeforeIknewwhathehaddone."

"Butwhy?"

"Thesepaganstoics,"saidBrownreflectively,"alwaysfailbytheirstrength.Therecameacrashandascreamdownthestreet,andthepriestofApollodidnotstartorlookround.Ididnotknowwhatitwas.ButIknewthathewasexpectingit."

TheSignoftheBrokenSword

Thethousandarmsoftheforestweregrey,anditsmillionfingerssilver.Inaskyofdarkgreen-blue-likeslatethestarswerebleakandbrilliantlikesplinteredice.Allthatthicklywoodedandsparselytenantedcountrysidewasstiffwithabitterandbrittlefrost.Theblackhollowsbetweenthetrunksofthetreeslookedlikebottomless,blackcavernsofthatScandinavianhell,ahellofincalculablecold.Eventhesquarestonetowerofthechurchlookednortherntothepointofheathenry,asifitweresomebarbarictoweramongthesearocksofIceland.Itwasaqueernightforanyonetoexploreachurchyard.But,ontheotherhand,perhapsitwasworthexploring.

Itroseabruptlyoutoftheashenwastesofforestinasortofhumporshoulderofgreenturfthatlookedgreyinthestarlight.Mostofthegraveswereonaslant,andthepathleadinguptothechurchwasassteepasastaircase.Onthetopofthehill,intheoneflatandprominentplace,wasthemonumentforwhichtheplacewasfamous.Itcontrastedstrangelywiththefeaturelessgravesallround,foritwastheworkofoneofthegreatestsculptorsofmodernEurope;andyethisfamewasatonceforgotteninthefameofthemanwhoseimagehehadmade.Itshowed,bytouchesofthesmallsilverpencilofstarlight,themassivemetalfigureofasoldierrecumbent,thestronghandssealedinaneverlastingworship,thegreatheadpilloweduponagun.Thevenerablefacewasbearded,orratherwhiskered,inthe

old,heavyColonelNewcomefashion.Theuniform,thoughsuggestedwiththefewstrokesofsimplicity,wasthatofmodernwar.Byhisrightsidelayasword,ofwhichthetipwasbrokenoff;ontheleftsidelayaBible.OnglowingsummerafternoonswagonettescamefullofAmericansandculturedsuburbanstoseethesepulchre;buteventhentheyfeltthevastforestlandwithitsonedumpydomeofchurchyardandchurchasaplaceoddlydumbandneglected.Inthisfreezingdarknessofmid-winteronewouldthinkhemightbeleftalonewiththestars.Nevertheless,inthestillnessofthosestiffwoodsawoodengatecreaked,andtwodim



figuresdressedinblackclimbedupthelittlepathtothetomb.

Sofaintwasthatfrigidstarlightthatnothingcouldhavebeentracedaboutthemexceptthatwhiletheybothworeblack,onemanwasenormouslybig,andtheother(perhapsbycontrast)almoststartlinglysmall.Theywentuptothegreatgraventombofthehistoricwarrior,andstoodforafewminutesstaringatit.Therewasnohuman,perhapsnoliving,thingforawidecircle;andamorbidfancymightwellhavewonderediftheywerehumanthemselves.Inanycase,thebeginningoftheirconversationmighthaveseemedstrange.Afterthefirstsilencethesmallmansaidtotheother:

"Wheredoesawisemanhideapebble?"

Andthetallmanansweredinalowvoice:"Onthebeach."

Thesmallmannodded,andafterashortsilencesaid:"Wheredoesawisemanhidealeaf?"

Andtheotheranswered:"Intheforest."

Therewasanotherstillness,andthenthetallmanresumed:"Doyoumeanthatwhenawisemanhastohidearealdiamondhe

hasbeenknowntohideitamongshamones?""No,no,"saidthelittlemanwithalaugh,"wewillletbygonesbebygones."

Hestampedhiscoldfeetforasecondortwo,andthensaid:"I'mnotthinkingofthatatall,butofsomethingelse;somethingratherpeculiar.Juststrikeamatch,willyou?"

Thebigmanfumbledinhispocket,andsoonascratchandaflarepaintedgoldthewholeflatsideofthemonument.Onitwascutinblacklettersthewell-knownwordswhichsomanyAmericanshadreverentlyread:"SacredtotheMemoryofGeneralSirArthur

St.Clare,HeroandMartyr,whoAlwaysVanquishedhisEnemiesandAlwaysSparedThem,andWasTreacherouslySlainbyThemAtLast.MayGodinWhomheTrustedbothRewardandRevengehim."

Thematchburntthebigman'sfingers,blackened,anddropped.Hewasabouttostrikeanother,buthissmallcompanionstoppedhim."That'sallright,Flambeau,oldman;IsawwhatIwanted.Or,rather,Ididn'tseewhatIdidn'twant.Andnowwemustwalkamileandahalfalongtheroadtothenextinn,andIwilltrytotellyouallaboutit.ForHeavenknowsamanshouldhaveafireandalewhenhedarestellsuchastory."

Theydescendedtheprecipitouspath,theyrelatchedtherusty

gate,andsetoffatastamping,ringingwalkdownthefrozenforestroad.Theyhadgoneafullquarterofamilebeforethesmallermanspokeagain.Hesaid:"Yes;thewisemanhidesapebbleonthebeach.Butwhatdoeshedoifthereisnobeach?DoyouknowanythingofthatgreatSt.Claretrouble?"

"IknownothingaboutEnglishgenerals,FatherBrown,"answeredthelargeman,laughing,"thoughalittleaboutEnglishpolicemen.Ionlyknowthatyouhavedraggedmeapreciouslongdancetoalltheshrinesofthisfellow,whoeverheis.Onewould



"SirArthurSt.Clarewasasoldieroftheoldreligioustype--thetypethatsavedusduringtheMutiny,"continuedBrown."Hewasalwaysmorefordutythanfordash;andwithallhispersonalcouragewasdecidedlyaprudentcommander,particularlyindignantatanyneedlesswasteofsoldiers.Yetinthislastbattleheattemptedsomethingthatababycouldseewasabsurd.Oneneednotbeastrategisttoseeitwasaswildaswind;justasoneneednotbeastrategisttokeepoutofthewayofamotor-bus.Well,thatisthefirstmystery;whathadbecomeoftheEnglishgeneral'shead?Thesecondriddleis,whathadbecomeoftheBraziliangeneral'sheart?PresidentOliviermightbecalledavisionaryoranuisance;butevenhisenemiesadmittedthathewasmagnanimoustothepointofknighterrantry.Almosteveryotherprisonerhehadevercapturedhadbeensetfreeorevenloadedwithbenefits.Menwhohadreallywrongedhimcameawaytouchedbyhissimplicityandsweetness.Whythedeuceshouldhediabolicallyrevengehimselfonlyonceinhislife;andthatfortheoneparticularblowthatcouldnothavehurthim?Well,thereyouhaveit.Oneofthewisestmenintheworldactedlikeanidiotfornoreason.Oneofthebestmenintheworldactedlikeafiendfornoreason.That'sthelongandtheshortofit;andIleaveittoyou,myboy."

"No,youdon't,"saidtheotherwithasnort."Ileaveitto

you;andyoujollywelltellmeallaboutit.""Well,"resumedFatherBrown,"it'snotfairtosaythatthepublicimpressionisjustwhatI'vesaid,withoutaddingthattwothingshavehappenedsince.Ican'tsaytheythrewanewlight;fornobodycanmakesenseofthem.Buttheythrewanewkindofdarkness;theythrewthedarknessinnewdirections.Thefirstwasthis.ThefamilyphysicianoftheSt.Claresquarrelledwiththatfamily,andbeganpublishingaviolentseriesofarticles,inwhichhesaidthatthelategeneralwasareligiousmaniac;butasfarasthetalewent,thisseemedtomeanlittlemorethanareligiousman.

"Anyhow,thestoryfizzledout.Everyoneknew,ofcourse,thatSt.Clarehadsomeoftheeccentricitiesofpuritanpiety.Thesecondincidentwasmuchmorearresting.InthelucklessandunsupportedregimentwhichmadethatrashattemptattheBlackRivertherewasacertainCaptainKeith,whowasatthattimeengagedtoSt.Clare'sdaughter,andwhoafterwardsmarriedher.HewasoneofthosewhowerecapturedbyOlivier,and,likealltherestexceptthegeneral,appearstohavebeenbounteouslytreatedandpromptlysetfree.Sometwentyyearsafterwardsthisman,thenLieutenant-ColonelKeith,publishedasortofautobiographycalled`ABritishOfficerinBurmahandBrazil.'IntheplacewherethereaderlookseagerlyforsomeaccountofthemysteryofSt.Clare'sdisastermaybefoundthefollowingwords:`EverywhereelseinthisbookIhave

narratedthingsexactlyastheyoccurred,holdingasIdotheold-fashionedopinionthatthegloryofEnglandisoldenoughtotakecareofitself.TheexceptionIshallmakeisinthismatterofthedefeatbytheBlackRiver;andmyreasons,thoughprivate,arehonourableandcompelling.Iwill,however,addthisinjusticetothememoriesoftwodistinguishedmen.GeneralSt.Clarehasbeenaccusedofincapacityonthisoccasion;Icanatleasttestifythatthisaction,properlyunderstood,wasoneofthemostbrilliantandsagaciousofhislife.PresidentOlivierbysimilarreportischargedwithsavageinjustice.Ithinkit



ThetallFlambeaufacedroundandstaredathim.

"Yoursisacleanstory,"criedFatherBrown,deeplymoved."Asweet,pure,honeststory,asopenandwhiteasthatmoon.Madnessanddespairareinnocentenough.Thereareworsethings,Flambeau."

Flambeaulookedupwildlyatthemoonthusinvoked;andfromwherehestoodoneblacktree-boughcurvedacrossitexactlylikeadevil'shorn.

"Father--father,"criedFlambeauwiththeFrenchgestureandsteppingyetmorerapidlyforward,"doyoumeanitwasworsethanthat?"

"Worsethanthat,"saidPaullikeagraveecho.Andtheyplungedintotheblackcloisterofthewoodland,whichranbytheminadimtapestryoftrunks,likeoneofthedarkcorridorsinadream.

Theyweresooninthemostsecretentrailsofthewood,andfeltcloseaboutthemfoliagethattheycouldnotsee,whenthepriestsaidagain:

"Wheredoesawisemanhidealeaf?Intheforest.Butwhatdoeshedoifthereisnoforest?"

"Well,well,"criedFlambeauirritably,"whatdoeshedo?"

"Hegrowsaforesttohideitin,"saidthepriestinanobscurevoice."Afearfulsin."

"Lookhere,"criedhisfriendimpatiently,forthedarkwoodandthedarksayinggotalittleonhisnerves;"willyoutellmethisstoryornot?Whatotherevidenceistheretogoon?"

"Therearethreemorebitsofevidence,"saidtheother,"thatIhavedugupinholesandcorners;andIwillgivetheminlogicalratherthanchronologicalorder.Firstofall,ofcourse,ourauthorityfortheissueandeventofthebattleisinOlivier'sowndispatches,whicharelucidenough.HewasentrenchedwithtwoorthreeregimentsontheheightsthatsweptdowntotheBlackRiver,ontheothersideofwhichwaslowerandmoremarshyground.Beyondthisagainwasgentlyrisingcountry,onwhichwasthefirstEnglishoutpost,supportedbyotherswhichlay,however,considerablyinitsrear.TheBritishforcesasawholeweregreatlysuperiorinnumbers;butthisparticularregimentwasjustfarenoughfromitsbasetomakeOlivierconsidertheprojectofcrossingtherivertocutitoff.Bysunset,however,hehad

decidedtoretainhisownposition,whichwasaspeciallystrongone.AtdaybreaknextmorninghewasthunderstrucktoseethatthisstrayhandfulofEnglish,entirelyunsupportedfromtheirrear,hadflungthemselvesacrosstheriver,halfbyabridgetotheright,andtheotherhalfbyafordhigherup,andweremasseduponthemarshybankbelowhim.

"Thattheyshouldattemptanattackwithsuchnumbersagainstsuchapositionwasincredibleenough;butOliviernoticedsomethingyetmoreextraordinary.Forinsteadofattemptingto



seizemoresolidground,thismadregiment,havingputtheriverinitsrearbyonewildcharge,didnothingmore,butstuckthereinthemirelikefliesintreacle.Needlesstosay,theBraziliansblewgreatgapsinthemwithartillery,whichtheycouldonlyreturnwithspiritedbutlesseningriflefire.Yettheyneverbroke;andOlivier'scurtaccountendswithastrongtributeofadmirationforthemysticvalouroftheseimbeciles.Òurlinethenadvancedfinally,'writesOlivier,ànddrovethemintotheriver;wecapturedGeneralSt.Clarehimselfandseveralotherofficers.Thecolonelandthemajorhadbothfalleninthebattle.Icannotresistsayingthatfewfinersightscanhavebeenseeninhistorythanthelaststandofthisextraordinaryregiment;woundedofficerspickinguptheriflesofdeadsoldiers,andthegeneralhimselffacingusonhorsebackbareheadedandwithabrokensword.'OnwhathappenedtothegeneralafterwardsOlivierisassilentasCaptainKeith."

"Well,"gruntedFlambeau,"getontothenextbitofevidence."

"Thenextevidence,"saidFatherBrown,"tooksometimetofind,butitwillnottakelongtotell.IfoundatlastinanalmshousedownintheLincolnshireFensanoldsoldierwhonotonlywaswoundedattheBlackRiver,buthadactuallykneltbesidethecoloneloftheregimentwhenhedied.Thislatterwasa

certainColonelClancy,abigbullofanIrishman;anditwouldseemthathediedalmostasmuchofrageasofbullets.He,atanyrate,wasnotresponsibleforthatridiculousraid;itmusthavebeenimposedonhimbythegeneral.Hislastedifyingwords,accordingtomyinformant,werethese:Àndtheregoesthedamnedolddonkeywiththeendofhisswordknockedoff.Iwishitwashishead.'Youwillremarkthateveryoneseemstohavenoticedthisdetailaboutthebrokenswordblade,thoughmostpeopleregarditsomewhatmorereverentlythandidthelateColonelClancy.Andnowforthethirdfragment."

Theirpaththroughthewoodlandbegantogoupward,andthespeakerpausedalittleforbreathbeforehewenton.Thenhe

continuedinthesamebusiness-liketone:

"OnlyamonthortwoagoacertainBrazilianofficialdiedinEngland,havingquarrelledwithOlivierandlefthiscountry.Hewasawell-knownfigurebothhereandontheContinent,aSpaniardnamedEspado;Iknewhimmyself,ayellow-facedolddandy,withahookednose.ForvariousprivatereasonsIhadpermissiontoseethedocumentshehadleft;hewasaCatholic,ofcourse,andIhadbeenwithhimtowardstheend.TherewasnothingofhisthatlitupanycorneroftheblackSt.Clarebusiness,exceptfiveorsixcommonexercisebooksfilledwiththediaryofsomeEnglishsoldier.IcanonlysupposethatitwasfoundbytheBraziliansononeofthosethatfell.Anyhow,itstoppedabruptlythenight

beforethebattle.

"Buttheaccountofthatlastdayinthepoorfellow'slifewascertainlyworthreading.Ihaveitonme;butit'stoodarktoreadithere,andIwillgiveyouaresume.Thefirstpartofthatentryisfullofjokes,evidentlyflungaboutamongthemen,aboutsomebodycalledtheVulture.Itdoesnotseemasifthisperson,whoeverhewas,wasoneofthemselves,norevenanEnglishman;neitherisheexactlyspokenofasoneoftheenemy.Itsoundsratherasifheweresomelocalgo-betweenand



thediarysuddenlyends."

FatherBrownhadmountedahead;forthewoodlandpathgrewsmaller,steeper,andmoretwisted,tilltheyfeltasiftheywereascendingawindingstaircase.Thepriest'svoicecamefromaboveoutofthedarkness.

"Therewasoneotherlittleandenormousthing.Whenthegeneralurgedthemtotheirchivalricchargehehalfdrewhisswordfromthescabbard;andthen,asifashamedofsuchmelodrama,thrustitbackagain.Theswordagain,yousee."

Ahalf-lightbrokethroughthenetworkofboughsabovethem,flingingtheghostofanetabouttheirfeet;fortheyweremountingagaintothefaintluminosityofthenakednight.Flambeaufelttruthallroundhimasanatmosphere,butnotasanidea.Heansweredwithbewilderedbrain:"Well,what'sthematterwiththesword?Officersgenerallyhaveswords,don'tthey?"

"Theyarenotoftenmentionedinmodernwar,"saidtheotherdispassionately;"butinthisaffaironefallsovertheblessedswordeverywhere."

"Well,whatisthereinthat?"growledFlambeau;"itwasa

twopencecolouredsortofincident;theoldman'sbladebreakinginhislastbattle.Anyonemightbetthepaperswouldgetholdofit,astheyhave.Onallthesetombsandthingsit'sshownbrokenatthepoint.Ihopeyouhaven'tdraggedmethroughthisPolarexpeditionmerelybecausetwomenwithaneyeforapicturesawSt.Clare'sbrokensword."

"No,"criedFatherBrown,withasharpvoicelikeapistolshot;"butwhosawhisunbrokensword?"

"Whatdoyoumean?"criedtheother,andstoodstillunderthestars.Theyhadcomeabruptlyoutofthegreygatesofthewood.

"Isay,whosawhisunbrokensword?"repeatedFatherBrownobstinately."Notthewriterofthediary,anyhow;thegeneralsheatheditintime."

Flambeaulookedabouthiminthemoonlight,asamanstruckblindmightlookinthesun;andhisfriendwenton,forthefirsttimewitheagerness:

"Flambeau,"hecried,"Icannotproveit,evenafterhuntingthroughthetombs.ButIamsureofit.Letmeaddjustonemoretinyfactthattipsthewholethingover.Thecolonel,byastrangechance,wasoneofthefirststruckbyabullet.Hewasstrucklongbeforethetroopscametoclosequarters.Buthesaw

St.Clare'sswordbroken.Whywasitbroken?Howwasitbroken?Myfriend,itwasbrokenbeforethebattle."

"Oh!"saidhisfriend,withasortofforlornjocularity;"andpraywhereistheotherpiece?"

"Icantellyou,"saidthepriestpromptly."InthenortheastcornerofthecemeteryoftheProtestantCathedralatBelfast."

"Indeed?"inquiredtheother."Haveyoulookedforit?"



"Icouldn't,"repliedBrown,withfrankregret."There'sagreatmarblemonumentontopofit;amonumenttotheheroicMajorMurray,whofellfightinggloriouslyatthefamousBattleoftheBlackRiver."

Flambeauseemedsuddenlygalvanisedintoexistence."Youmean,"hecriedhoarsely,"thatGeneralSt.ClarehatedMurray,andmurderedhimonthefieldofbattlebecause--"

"Youarestillfullofgoodandpurethoughts,"saidtheother."Itwasworsethanthat."

"Well,"saidthelargeman,"mystockofevilimaginationisusedup."

Thepriestseemedreallydoubtfulwheretobegin,andatlasthesaidagain:

"Wherewouldawisemanhidealeaf?Intheforest."

Theotherdidnotanswer.

"Iftherewerenoforest,hewouldmakeaforest.Andifhe

wishedtohideadeadleaf,hewouldmakeadeadforest."Therewasstillnoreply,andthepriestaddedstillmoremildlyandquietly:

"Andifamanhadtohideadeadbody,hewouldmakeafieldofdeadbodiestohideitin."

Flambeaubegantostampforwardwithanintoleranceofdelayintimeorspace;butFatherBrownwentonasifhewerecontinuingthelastsentence:

"SirArthurSt.Clare,asIhavealreadysaid,wasamanwho

readhisBible.Thatwaswhatwasthematterwithhim.WhenwillpeopleunderstandthatitisuselessforamantoreadhisBibleunlesshealsoreadseverybodyelse'sBible?AprinterreadsaBibleformisprints.AMormonreadshisBible,andfindspolygamy;aChristianScientistreadshis,andfindswehavenoarmsandlegs.St.ClarewasanoldAnglo-IndianProtestantsoldier.Now,justthinkwhatthatmightmean;and,forHeaven'ssake,don'tcantaboutit.ItmightmeanamanphysicallyformidablelivingunderatropicsuninanOrientalsociety,andsoakinghimselfwithoutsenseorguidanceinanOrientalBook.Ofcourse,hereadtheOldTestamentratherthantheNew.Ofcourse,hefoundintheOldTestamentanythingthathewanted--lust,tyranny,treason.Oh,Idaresayhewashonest,asyoucallit.Butwhatisthe

goodofamanbeinghonestinhisworshipofdishonesty?

"Ineachofthehotandsecretcountriestowhichthemanwenthekeptaharem,hetorturedwitnesses,heamassedshamefulgold;butcertainlyhewouldhavesaidwithsteadyeyesthathedidittothegloryoftheLord.MyowntheologyissufficientlyexpressedbyaskingwhichLord?Anyhow,thereisthisaboutsuchevil,thatitopensdoorafterdoorinhell,andalwaysintosmallerandsmallerchambers.Thisistherealcaseagainstcrime,thatamandoesnotbecomewilderandwilder,butonlymeanerand



meaner.St.Clarewassoonsuffocatedbydifficultiesofbriberyandblackmail;andneededmoreandmorecash.AndbythetimeoftheBattleoftheBlackRiverhehadfallenfromworldtoworldtothatplacewhichDantemakesthelowestflooroftheuniverse."

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedhisfriendagain.

"Imeanthat,"retortedthecleric,andsuddenlypointedatapuddlesealedwithicethatshoneinthemoon."DoyourememberwhomDanteputinthelastcircleofice?"

"Thetraitors,"saidFlambeau,andshuddered.Ashelookedaroundattheinhumanlandscapeoftrees,withtauntingandalmostobsceneoutlines,hecouldalmostfancyhewasDante,andthepriestwiththerivuletofavoicewas,indeed,aVirgilleadinghimthroughalandofeternalsins.

Thevoicewenton:"Olivier,asyouknow,wasquixotic,andwouldnotpermitasecretserviceandspies.Thething,however,wasdone,likemanyotherthings,behindhisback.ItwasmanagedbymyoldfriendEspado;hewasthebright-cladfop,whosehooknosegothimcalledtheVulture.Posingasasortofphilanthropistatthefront,hefelthiswaythroughtheEnglishArmy,andatlastgothisfingersonitsonecorruptman--please

God!--andthatmanatthetop.St.Clarewasinfoulneedofmoney,andmountainsofit.Thediscreditedfamilydoctorwasthreateningthoseextraordinaryexposuresthatafterwardsbeganandwerebrokenoff;talesofmonstrousandprehistoricthingsinParkLane;thingsdonebyanEnglishEvangelistthatsmeltlikehumansacrificeandhordesofslaves.Moneywaswanted,too,forhisdaughter'sdowry;fortohimthefameofwealthwasassweetaswealthitself.Hesnappedthelastthread,whisperedthewordtoBrazil,andwealthpouredinfromtheenemiesofEngland.ButanothermanhadtalkedtoEspadotheVultureaswellashe.Somehowthedark,grimyoungmajorfromUlsterhadguessedthehideoustruth;andwhentheywalkedslowlytogetherdownthatroadtowardsthebridgeMurraywastellingthegeneralthathemust

resigninstantly,orbecourt-martialledandshot.Thegeneraltemporisedwithhimtilltheycametothefringeoftropictreesbythebridge;andtherebythesingingriverandthesunlitpalms(forIcanseethepicture)thegeneraldrewhissabreandplungeditthroughthebodyofthemajor."

Thewintryroadcurvedoveraridgeincuttingfrost,withcruelblackshapesofbushandthicket;butFlambeaufanciedthathesawbeyonditfaintlytheedgeofanaureolethatwasnotstarlightandmoonlight,butsomefiresuchasismadebymen.Hewatcheditasthetaledrewtoitsclose.

"St.Clarewasahell-hound,buthewasahoundofbreed.

Never,I'llswear,washesolucidandsostrongaswhenpoorMurraylayacoldlumpathisfeet.Neverinallhistriumphs,asCaptainKeithsaidtruly,wasthegreatmansogreatashewasinthislastworld-despiseddefeat.Helookedcoollyathisweapontowipeofftheblood;hesawthepointhehadplantedbetweenhisvictim'sshouldershadbrokenoffinthebody.Hesawquitecalmly,asthroughaclubwindowpane,allthatmustfollow.Hesawthatmenmustfindtheunaccountablecorpse;mustextracttheunaccountablesword-point;mustnoticetheunaccountablebrokensword--orabsenceofsword.Hehadkilled,butnotsilenced.



Buthisimperiousintellectroseagainstthefacer;therewasonewayyet.Hecouldmakethecorpselessunaccountable.Hecouldcreateahillofcorpsestocoverthisone.IntwentyminuteseighthundredEnglishsoldiersweremarchingdowntotheirdeath."

Thewarmerglowbehindtheblackwinterwoodgrewricherandbrighter,andFlambeaustrodeontoreachit.FatherBrownalsoquickenedhisstride;butheseemedmerelyabsorbedinhistale.

"SuchwasthevalourofthatEnglishthousand,andsuchthegeniusoftheircommander,thatiftheyhadatonceattackedthehill,eventheirmadmarchmighthavemetsomeluck.Buttheevilmindthatplayedwiththemlikepawnshadotheraimsandreasons.TheymustremaininthemarshesbythebridgeatleasttillBritishcorpsesshouldbeacommonsightthere.Thenforthelastgrandscene;thesilver-hairedsoldier-saintwouldgiveuphisshatteredswordtosavefurtherslaughter.Oh,itwaswellorganisedforanimpromptu.ButIthink(Icannotprove),Ithinkthatitwaswhiletheystuckthereinthebloodymirethatsomeonedoubted--andsomeoneguessed."

Hewasmuteamoment,andthensaid:"Thereisavoicefromnowherethattellsmethemanwhoguessedwasthelover...themantowedtheoldman'schild."

"ButwhataboutOlivierandthehanging?"askedFlambeau.

"Olivier,partlyfromchivalry,partlyfrompolicy,seldomencumberedhismarchwithcaptives,"explainedthenarrator."Hereleasedeverybodyinmostcases.Hereleasedeverybodyinthiscase."

"Everybodybutthegeneral,"saidthetallman.

"Everybody,"saidthepriest.

Flambeauknithisblackbrows."Idon'tgraspitallyet,"he

said.

"Thereisanotherpicture,Flambeau,"saidBrowninhismoremysticalundertone."Ican'tproveit;butIcandomore--Icanseeit.Thereisacampbreakinguponthebare,torridhillsatmorning,andBrazilianuniformsmassedinblocksandcolumnstomarch.ThereistheredshirtandlongblackbeardofOlivier,whichblowsashestands,hisbroad-brimmedhatinhishand.Heissayingfarewelltothegreatenemyheissettingfree--thesimple,snow-headedEnglishveteran,whothankshiminthenameofhismen.TheEnglishremnantstandbehindatattention;besidethemarestoresandvehiclesfortheretreat.Thedrumsroll;theBraziliansaremoving;theEnglisharestilllikestatues.So

theyabidetillthelasthumandflashoftheenemyhavefadedfromthetropichorizon.Thentheyaltertheirposturesallatonce,likedeadmencomingtolife;theyturntheirfiftyfacesuponthegeneral--facesnottobeforgotten."

Flambeaugaveagreatjump."Ah,"hecried,"youdon'tmean--"

"Yes,"saidFatherBrowninadeep,movingvoice."ItwasanEnglishhandthatputtheroperoundSt.Clare'sneck;Ibelievethehandthatputtheringonhisdaughter'sfinger.Theywere



Englishhandsthatdraggedhimuptothetreeofshame;thehandsofmenthathadadoredhimandfollowedhimtovictory.AndtheywereEnglishsouls(Godpardonandendureusall!)whostaredathimswinginginthatforeignsunonthegreengallowsofpalm,andprayedintheirhatredthathemightdropoffitintohell."

Asthetwotoppedtheridgethereburstonthemthestrongscarletlightofared-curtainedEnglishinn.Itstoodsidewaysintheroad,asifstandingasideintheamplitudeofhospitality.Itsthreedoorsstoodopenwithinvitation;andevenwheretheystoodtheycouldhearthehumandlaughterofhumanityhappyforanight.

"Ineednottellyoumore,"saidFatherBrown."Theytriedhiminthewildernessanddestroyedhim;andthen,forthehonourofEnglandandofhisdaughter,theytookanoathtosealupforeverthestoryofthetraitor'spurseandtheassassin'sswordblade.Perhaps--Heavenhelpthem--theytriedtoforgetit.Letustrytoforgetit,anyhow;hereisourinn."

"Withallmyheart,"saidFlambeau,andwasjuststridingintothebright,noisybarwhenhesteppedbackandalmostfellontheroad.

"Lookthere,inthedevil'sname!"hecried,andpointedrigidlyatthesquarewoodensignthatoverhungtheroad.Itshoweddimlythecrudeshapeofasabrehiltandashortenedblade;andwasinscribedinfalsearchaiclettering,"TheSignoftheBrokenSword."

"Wereyounotprepared?"askedFatherBrowngently."Heisthegodofthiscountry;halftheinnsandparksandstreetsarenamedafterhimandhisstory."

"Ithoughtwehaddonewiththeleper,"criedFlambeau,andspatontheroad.

"YouwillneverhavedonewithhiminEngland,"saidthepriest,lookingdown,"whilebrassisstrongandstoneabides.Hismarblestatueswillerectthesoulsofproud,innocentboysforcenturies,hisvillagetombwillsmellofloyaltyasoflilies.Millionswhoneverknewhimshalllovehimlikeafather--thismanwhomthelastfewthatknewhimdealtwithlikedung.Heshallbeasaint;andthetruthshallneverbetoldofhim,becauseIhavemadeupmymindatlast.Thereissomuchgoodandevilinbreakingsecrets,thatIputmyconducttoatest.Allthesenewspaperswillperish;theanti-Brazilboomisalreadyover;Olivierisalreadyhonouredeverywhere.ButItoldmyselfthatifanywhere,byname,inmetalormarblethatwillendurelikethepyramids,ColonelClancy,orCaptainKeith,orPresidentOlivier,

oranyinnocentmanwaswronglyblamed,thenIwouldspeak.IfitwereonlythatSt.Clarewaswronglypraised,Iwouldbesilent.AndIwill."

Theyplungedintothered-curtainedtavern,whichwasnotonlycosy,butevenluxuriousinside.OnatablestoodasilvermodelofthetombofSt.Clare,thesilverheadbowed,thesilverswordbroken.Onthewallswerecolouredphotographsofthesamescene,andofthesystemofwagonettesthattooktouriststoseeit.Theysatdownonthecomfortablepaddedbenches.



"Come,it'scold,"criedFatherBrown;"let'shavesomewineorbeer."

"Orbrandy,"saidFlambeau.

TheThreeToolsofDeath

BothbycallingandconvictionFatherBrownknewbetterthanmostofus,thateverymanisdignifiedwhenheisdead.ButevenhefeltapangofincongruitywhenhewasknockedupatdaybreakandtoldthatSirAaronArmstronghadbeenmurdered.Therewassomethingabsurdandunseemlyaboutsecretviolenceinconnectionwithsoentirelyentertainingandpopularafigure.ForSirAaronArmstrongwasentertainingtothepointofbeingcomic;andpopularinsuchamannerastobealmostlegendary.ItwaslikehearingthatSunnyJimhadhangedhimself;orthatMr.PickwickhaddiedinHanwell.ForthoughSirAaronwasaphilanthropist,andthusdealtwiththedarkersideofoursociety,hepridedhimselfondealingwithitinthebrightestpossiblestyle.Hispoliticalandsocialspeecheswerecataractsofanecdotesand

"loudlaughter";hisbodilyhealthwasofaburstingsort;hisethicswerealloptimism;andhedealtwiththeDrinkproblem(hisfavouritetopic)withthatimmortalorevenmonotonousgaietywhichissooftenamarkoftheprosperoustotalabstainer.

Theestablishedstoryofhisconversionwasfamiliaronthemorepuritanicplatformsandpulpits,howhehadbeen,whenonlyaboy,drawnawayfromScotchtheologytoScotchwhisky,andhowhehadrisenoutofbothandbecome(ashemodestlyputit)whathewas.Yethiswidewhitebeard,cherubicface,andsparklingspectacles,atthenumberlessdinnersandcongresseswheretheyappeared,madeithardtobelieve,somehow,thathehadeverbeenanythingsomorbidaseitheradram-drinkeroraCalvinist.He

was,onefelt,themostseriouslymerryofallthesonsofmen.

HehadlivedontheruralskirtofHampsteadinahandsomehouse,highbutnotbroad,amodernandprosaictower.Thenarrowestofitsnarrowsidesoverhungthesteepgreenbankofarailway,andwasshakenbypassingtrains.SirAaronArmstrong,asheboisterouslyexplained,hadnonerves.Butifthetrainhadoftengivenashocktothehouse,thatmorningthetableswereturned,anditwasthehousethatgaveashocktothetrain.

Theenginesloweddownandstoppedjustbeyondthatpointwhereanangleofthehouseimpingeduponthesharpslopeofturf.Thearrestofmostmechanicalthingsmustbeslow;buttheliving

causeofthishadbeenveryrapid.Amancladcompletelyinblack,even(itwasremembered)tothedreadfuldetailofblackgloves,appearedontheridgeabovetheengine,andwavedhisblackhandslikesomesablewindmill.Thisinitselfwouldhardlyhavestoppedevenalingeringtrain.Buttherecameoutofhimacrywhichwastalkedofafterwardsassomethingutterlyunnaturalandnew.Itwasoneofthoseshoutsthatarehorridlydistinctevenwhenwecannothearwhatisshouted.Thewordinthiscasewas"Murder!"



AwindowinMerton'smindletinthatstrangelightofsurpriseinwhichweseeforthefirsttimethingswehaveknownallalong.HehadoftenbeentotheArmstrongs',onlittlepolicejobsofthephilanthropist;and,nowhecametothinkofit,itwasinitselfadepressinghouse.Theroomswereveryhighandverycold;thedecorationmeanandprovincial;thedraughtycorridorswerelitbyelectricitythatwasbleakerthanmoonlight.Andthoughtheoldman'sscarletfaceandsilverbeardhadblazedlikeabonfireineachroomorpassageinturn,itdidnotleaveanywarmthbehindit.Doubtlessthisspectraldiscomfortintheplacewaspartlyduetotheveryvitalityandexuberanceofitsowner;heneedednostovesorlamps,hewouldsay,butcarriedhisownwarmthwithhim.ButwhenMertonrecalledtheotherinmates,hewascompelledtoconfessthattheyalsowereasshadowsoftheirlord.Themoodyman-servant,withhismonstrousblackgloves,wasalmostanightmare;Royce,thesecretary,wassolidenough,abigbullofaman,intweeds,withashortbeard;butthestraw-colouredbeardwasstartlinglysaltedwithgreylikethetweeds,andthebroadforeheadwasbarredwithprematurewrinkles.Hewasgood-naturedenoughalso,butitwasasadsortofgood-nature,almostaheart-brokensort--hehadthegeneralairofbeingsomesortoffailureinlife.AsforArmstrong'sdaughter,itwasalmostincrediblethatshewashisdaughter;shewassopallidincolourandsensitiveinoutline.Shewasgraceful,buttherewasa

quiverintheveryshapeofherthatwaslikethelinesofanaspen.Mertonhadsometimeswonderedifshehadlearnttoquailatthecrashofthepassingtrains.

"Yousee,"saidFatherBrown,blinkingmodestly,"I'mnotsurethattheArmstrongcheerfulnessissoverycheerful--forotherpeople.Yousaythatnobodycouldkillsuchahappyoldman,butI'mnotsure;nenosinducasintentationem.IfeverImurderedsomebody,"headdedquitesimply,"IdaresayitmightbeanOptimist."

"Why?"criedMertonamused."Doyouthinkpeopledislikecheerfulness?"

"Peoplelikefrequentlaughter,"answeredFatherBrown,"butIdon'tthinktheylikeapermanentsmile.Cheerfulnesswithouthumourisaverytryingthing."

Theywalkedsomewayinsilencealongthewindygrassybankbytherail,andjustastheycameunderthefar-flungshadowofthetallArmstronghouse,FatherBrownsaidsuddenly,likeamanthrowingawayatroublesomethoughtratherthanofferingitseriously:"Ofcourse,drinkisneithergoodnorbadinitself.ButIcan'thelpsometimesfeelingthatmenlikeArmstrongwantanoccasionalglassofwinetosaddenthem."

Merton'sofficialsuperior,agrizzledandcapabledetectivenamedGilder,wasstandingonthegreenbankwaitingforthecoroner,talkingtoPatrickRoyce,whosebigshouldersandbristlybeardandhairtoweredabovehim.ThiswasthemorenoticeablebecauseRoycewalkedalwayswithasortofpowerfulstoop,andseemedtobegoingabouthissmallclericalanddomesticdutiesinaheavyandhumbledstyle,likeabuffalodrawingago-cart.

Heraisedhisheadwithunusualpleasureatthesightofthepriest,andtookhimafewpacesapart.MeanwhileMertonwas



addressingtheolderdetectiverespectfullyindeed,butnotwithoutacertainboyishimpatience.

"Well,Mr.Gilder,haveyougotmuchfartherwiththemystery?"

"Thereisnomystery,"repliedGilder,ashelookedunderdreamyeyelidsattherooks.

"Well,thereisforme,atanyrate,"saidMerton,smiling.

"Itissimpleenough,myboy,"observedtheseniorinvestigator,strokinghisgrey,pointedbeard."Threeminutesafteryou'dgoneforMr.Royce'sparsonthewholethingcameout.Youknowthatpasty-facedservantintheblackgloveswhostoppedthetrain?"

"Ishouldknowhimanywhere.Somehowherathergavemethecreeps."

"Well,"drawledGilder,"whenthetrainhadgoneonagain,thatmanhadgonetoo.Ratheracoolcriminal,don'tyouthink,toescapebytheverytrainthatwentoffforthepolice?"

"You'reprettysure,Isuppose,"remarkedtheyoungman,"that

hereallydidkillhismaster?""Yes,myson,I'mprettysure,"repliedGilderdrily,"forthetriflingreasonthathehasgoneoffwithtwentythousandpoundsinpapersthatwereinhismaster'sdesk.No,theonlythingworthcallingadifficultyishowhekilledhim.Theskullseemsbrokenaswithsomebigweapon,butthere'snoweaponatalllyingabout,andthemurdererwouldhavefounditawkwardtocarryitaway,unlesstheweaponwastoosmalltobenoticed."

"Perhapstheweaponwastoobigtobenoticed,"saidthepriest,withanoddlittlegiggle.

Gilderlookedroundatthiswildremark,andrathersternlyaskedBrownwhathemeant.

"Sillywayofputtingit,Iknow,"saidFatherBrownapologetically."Soundslikeafairytale.ButpoorArmstrongwaskilledwithagiant'sclub,agreatgreenclub,toobigtobeseen,andwhichwecalltheearth.Hewasbrokenagainstthisgreenbankwearestandingon."

"Howdoyoumean?"askedthedetectivequickly.

FatherBrownturnedhismoonfaceuptothenarrowfacadeofthehouseandblinkedhopelesslyup.Followinghiseyes,theysaw

thatrightatthetopofthisotherwiseblindbackquarterofthebuilding,anatticwindowstoodopen.

"Don'tyousee,"heexplained,pointingalittleawkwardlylikeachild,"hewasthrowndownfromthere?"

Gilderfrowninglyscrutinisedthewindow,andthensaid:"Well,itiscertainlypossible.ButIdon'tseewhyyouaresosureaboutit."



Gilderlookedattheman-servantinutteramazement."Whyonearthdidyoudothat?"heaskedofMagnus.

"Tokeepitsafefromthecriminal,ofcourse,"repliedthatpersonplacidly.

"Surely,"saidGilder,"SirAaron'smoneymighthavebeensafelyleftwithSirAaron'sfamily."

Thetailofhissentencewasdrownedintheroarofthetrainasitwentrockingandclanking;butthroughallthehellofnoisestowhichthatunhappyhousewasperiodicallysubject,theycouldhearthesyllablesofMagnus'sanswer,inalltheirbell-likedistinctness:"IhavenoreasontofeelconfidenceinSirAaron'sfamily."

Allthemotionlessmenhadtheghostlysensationofthepresenceofsomenewperson;andMertonwasscarcelysurprisedwhenhelookedupandsawthepalefaceofArmstrong'sdaughteroverFatherBrown'sshoulder.Shewasstillyoungandbeautifulinasilverystyle,butherhairwasofsodustyandhuelessabrownthatinsomeshadowsitseemedtohaveturnedtotallygrey.

"Becarefulwhatyousay,"saidRoycegruffly,"you'llfrightenMissArmstrong."

"Ihopeso,"saidthemanwiththeclearvoice.

Asthewomanwincedandeveryoneelsewondered,hewenton:"IamsomewhatusedtoMissArmstrong'stremors.Ihaveseenhertremblingoffandonforyears.Andsomesaidshewasshakingwithcoldandsomeshewasshakingwithfear,butIknowshewasshakingwithhateandwickedanger--fiendsthathavehadtheirfeastthismorning.Shewouldhavebeenawaybynowwithherloverandallthemoneybutforme.Eversincemypooroldmasterpreventedherfrommarryingthattipsyblackguard--"

"Stop,"saidGilderverysternly."Wehavenothingtodowithyourfamilyfanciesorsuspicions.Unlessyouhavesomepracticalevidence,yourmereopinions--"

"Oh!I'llgiveyoupracticalevidence,"cutinMagnus,inhishackingaccent."You'llhavetosubpoename,Mr.Inspector,andIshallhavetotellthetruth.Andthetruthisthis:Aninstantaftertheoldmanwaspitchedbleedingoutofthewindow,Iranintotheattic,andfoundhisdaughterswooningonthefloorwithareddaggerstillinherhand.Allowmetohandthatalsototheproperauthorities."Hetookfromhistail-pocketalonghorn-hiltedknifewitharedsmearonit,andhandeditpolitely

tothesergeant.Thenhestoodbackagain,andhisslitsofeyesalmostfadedfromhisfaceinonefatChinesesneer.

Mertonfeltanalmostbodilysicknessatthesightofhim;andhemutteredtoGilder:"SurelyyouwouldtakeMissArmstrong'swordagainsthis?"

FatherBrownsuddenlyliftedafacesoabsurdlyfreshthatitlookedsomehowasifhehadjustwashedit."Yes,"hesaid,radiatinginnocence,"butisMissArmstrong'swordagainsthis?"



prematurelybatteredmansomehowhadthepathosofthefirstsinofababy.

"Youallknowaboutme,"hecontinuedhuskily;"everybodyknowshowmystorybegan,anditmayaswellendlikethattoo.Iwascalledaclevermanonce,andmighthavebeenahappyone;Armstrongsavedtheremainsofabrainandbodyfromthetaverns,andwasalwayskindtomeinhisownway,poorfellow!Onlyhewouldn'tletmemarryAlicehere;anditwillalwaysbesaidthathewasrightenough.Well,youcanformyourownconclusions,andyouwon'twantmetogointodetails.Thatismywhiskybottlehalfemptiedinthecorner;thatismyrevolverquiteemptiedonthecarpet.Itwastheropefrommyboxthatwasfoundonthecorpse,anditwasfrommywindowthecorpsewasthrown.Youneednotsetdetectivestogrubupmytragedy;itisacommonenoughweedinthisworld.Igivemyselftothegallows;and,byGod,thatisenough!"

Atasufficientlydelicatesign,thepolicegatheredroundthelargemantoleadhimaway;buttheirunobtrusivenesswassomewhatstaggeredbytheremarkableappearanceofFatherBrown,whowasonhishandsandkneesonthecarpetinthedoorway,asifengagedinsomekindofundignifiedprayers.Beingapersonutterlyinsensibletothesocialfigurehecut,heremainedin

thisposture,butturnedabrightroundfaceupatthecompany,presentingtheappearanceofaquadrupedwithaverycomichumanhead.

"Isay,"hesaidgood-naturedly,"thisreallywon'tdoatall,youknow.Atthebeginningyousaidwe'dfoundnoweapon.Butnowwe'refindingtoomany;there'stheknifetostab,andtheropetostrangle,andthepistoltoshoot;andafterallhebrokehisneckbyfallingoutofawindow!Itwon'tdo.It'snoteconomical."Andheshookhisheadatthegroundasahorsedoesgrazing.

InspectorGilderhadopenedhismouthwithseriousintentions,

butbeforehecouldspeakthegrotesquefigureonthefloorhadgoneonquitevolubly.

"Andnowthreequiteimpossiblethings.First,theseholesinthecarpet,wherethesixbulletshavegonein.Whyonearthshouldanybodyfireatthecarpet?Adrunkenmanletsflyathisenemy'shead,thethingthat'sgrinningathim.Hedoesn'tpickaquarrelwithhisfeet,orlaysiegetohisslippers.Andthenthere'stherope"--andhavingdonewiththecarpetthespeakerliftedhishandsandputtheminhispocket,butcontinuedunaffectedlyonhisknees--"inwhatconceivableintoxicationwouldanybodytrytoputaroperoundaman'sneckandfinallyputitroundhisleg?Royce,anyhow,wasnotsodrunkasthat,orhe

wouldbesleepinglikealogbynow.And,plainestofall,thewhiskybottle.Yousuggestadipsomaniacfoughtforthewhiskybottle,andthenhavingwon,rolleditawayinacorner,spillingonehalfandleavingtheother.Thatistheverylastthingadipsomaniacwoulddo."

Hescrambledawkwardlytohisfeet,andsaidtotheself-accusedmurdererintonesoflimpidpenitence:"I'mawfullysorry,mydearsir,butyourtaleisreallyrubbish."



Hewenttothefatalwindow,andblinkedoutofitashewentontalking.

"Itoldyouthatinthiscasethereweretoomanyweaponsandonlyonedeath.Itellyounowthattheywerenotweapons,andwerenotusedtocausedeath.Allthosegrislytools,thenoose,thebloodyknife,theexplodingpistol,wereinstrumentsofacuriousmercy.TheywerenotusedtokillSirAaron,buttosavehim."

"Tosavehim!"repeatedGilder."Andfromwhat?"

"Fromhimself,"saidFatherBrown."Hewasasuicidalmaniac."

"What?"criedMertoninanincreduloustone."AndtheReligionofCheerfulness--"

"Itisacruelreligion,"saidthepriest,lookingoutofthewindow."Whycouldn'ttheylethimweepalittle,likehisfathersbeforehim?Hisplansstiffened,hisviewsgrewcold;behindthatmerrymaskwastheemptymindoftheatheist.Atlast,tokeepuphishilariouspubliclevel,hefellbackonthatdram-drinkinghehadabandonedlongago.Butthereisthishorroraboutalcoholism

inasincereteetotaler:thathepicturesandexpectsthatpsychologicalinfernofromwhichhehaswarnedothers.ItleaptuponpoorArmstrongprematurely,andbythismorninghewasinsuchacasethathesathereandcriedhewasinhell,insocrazyavoicethathisdaughterdidnotknowit.Hewasmadfordeath,andwiththemonkeytricksofthemadhehadscatteredroundhimdeathinmanyshapes--arunningnooseandhisfriend'srevolverandaknife.Royceenteredaccidentallyandactedinaflash.Heflungtheknifeonthematbehindhim,snatcheduptherevolver,andhavingnotimetounloadit,emptieditshotaftershotalloverthefloor.Thesuicidesawafourthshapeofdeath,andmadeadashforthewindow.Therescuerdidtheonlythinghecould--ranafterhimwiththeropeandtriedtotiehimhandandfoot.

Thenitwasthattheunluckygirlranin,andmisunderstandingthestruggle,strovetoslashherfatherfree.AtfirstsheonlyslashedpoorRoyce'sknuckles,fromwhichhascomeallthelittlebloodinthisaffair.But,ofcourse,younoticedthatheleftblood,butnowound,onthatservant'sface?Onlybeforethepoorwomanswooned,shedidhackherfatherloose,sothathewentcrashingthroughthatwindowintoeternity."

TherewasalongstillnessslowlybrokenbythemetallicnoisesofGilderunlockingthehandcuffsofPatrickRoyce,towhomhesaid:"IthinkIshouldhavetoldthetruth,sir.YouandtheyoungladyareworthmorethanArmstrong'sobituarynotices."

"ConfoundArmstrong'snotices,"criedRoyceroughly."Don'tyouseeitwasbecauseshemustn'tknow?"

"Mustn'tknowwhat?"askedMerton.

"Why,thatshekilledherfather,youfool!"roaredtheother."He'dhavebeenalivenowbutforher.Itmightcrazehertoknowthat."

"No,Idon'tthinkitwould,"remarkedFatherBrown,ashe



pickeduphishat."IratherthinkIshouldtellher.Eventhemostmurderousblundersdon'tpoisonlifelikesins;anyhow,Ithinkyoumaybothbethehappiernow.I'vegottogobacktotheDeafSchool."

AshewentoutontothegustygrassanacquaintancefromHighgatestoppedhimandsaid:

"TheCoronerhasarrived.Theinquiryisjustgoingtobegin."

"I'vegottogetbacktotheDeafSchool,"saidFatherBrown."I'msorryIcan'tstopfortheinquiry."

THEEND

The Innocence of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton

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Transcript of The Innocence of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton