the innocence of father brown-第22部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

uite　alone　in　a　street　a　second　before　she　receives　a　letter。　She　can't　be　quite　alone　in　a　street　when　she　starts　reading　a　letter　just　received。　　There　must　be　somebody　pretty　near　her；　he　must　be　mentally　invisible。〃　　　　　〃Why　must　there　be　somebody　near　her？〃　asked　Angus。　　　　　〃Because；〃　said　Father　Brown；　〃barring　carrier…pigeons；　somebody　must　have　brought　her　the　letter。〃　　　　　〃Do　you　really　mean　to　say；〃　asked　Flambeau；　with　energy；　〃that　Welkin　carried　his　rival's　letters　to　his　lady？〃　　　　　〃Yes；〃　said　the　priest。　　〃Welkin　carried　his　rival's　letters　to　his　lady。　　You　see；　he　had　to。〃　　　　　〃Oh；　I　can't　stand　much　more　of　this；〃　exploded　Flambeau。　〃Who　is　this　fellow？　　What　does　he　look　like？　　What　is　the　usual　get…up　of　a　mentally　invisible　man？〃　　　　　〃He　is　dressed　rather　handsomely　in　red；　blue　and　gold；〃　replied　the　priest　promptly　with　precision；　〃and　in　this　striking；　and　even　showy；　costume　he　entered　Himylaya　Mansions　under　eight　human　eyes；　he　killed　Smythe　in　cold　blood；　and　came　down　into　the　street　again　carrying　the　dead　body　in　his　arms〃　　　　　〃Reverend　sir；〃　cried　Angus；　standing　still；　〃are　you　raving　mad；　or　am　I？〃　　　　　〃You　are　not　mad；〃　said　Brown；　〃only　a　little　unobservant。　You　have　not　noticed　such　a　man　as　this；　for　example。〃　　　　　He　took　three　quick　strides　forward；　and　put　his　hand　on　the　shoulder　of　an　ordinary　passing　postman　who　had　bustled　by　them　unnoticed　under　the　shade　of　the　trees。　　　　　〃Nobody　ever　notices　postmen　somehow；〃　he　said　thoughtfully；　〃yet　they　have　passions　like　other　men；　and　even　carry　large　bags　where　a　small　corpse　can　be　stowed　quite　easily。〃　　　　　The　postman；　instead　of　turning　naturally；　had　ducked　and　tumbled　against　the　garden　fence。　　He　was　a　lean　fair…bearded　man　of　very　ordinary　appearance；　but　as　he　turned　an　alarmed　face　over　his　shoulder；　all　three　men　were　fixed　with　an　almost　fiendish　squint。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　*　*　*　*　*　*　　　　　Flambeau　went　back　to　his　sabres；　purple　rugs　and　Persian　cat；　having　many　things　to　attend　to。　　John　Turnbull　Angus　went　back　to　the　lady　at　the　shop；　with　whom　that　imprudent　young　man　contrives　to　be　extremely　comfortable。　　But　Father　Brown　walked　those　snow…covered　hills　under　the　stars　for　many　hours　with　a　murderer；　and　what　they　said　to　each　other　will　never　be　known。



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　Honour　of　Israel　Gow

A　stormy　evening　of　olive　and　silver　was　closing　in；　as　Father　Brown；　wrapped　in　a　grey　Scotch　plaid；　came　to　the　end　of　a　grey　Scotch　valley　and　beheld　the　strange　castle　of　Glengyle。　　It　stopped　one　end　of　the　glen　or　hollow　like　a　blind　alley；　and　it　looked　like　the　end　of　the　world。　　Rising　in　steep　roofs　and　spires　of　seagreen　slate　in　the　manner　of　the　old　French…Scotch　chateaux；　it　reminded　an　Englishman　of　the　sinister　steeple…hats　of　witches　in　fairy　tales；　and　the　pine　woods　that　rocked　round　the　green　turrets　looked；　by　comparison；　as　black　as　numberless　flocks　of　ravens。　　This　note　of　a　dreamy；　almost　a　sleepy　devilry；　was　no　mere　fancy　from　the　landscape。　　For　there　did　rest　on　the　place　one　of　those　clouds　of　pride　and　madness　and　mysterious　sorrow　which　lie　more　heavily　on　the　noble　houses　of　Scotland　than　on　any　other　of　the　children　of　men。　　For　Scotland　has　a　double　dose　of　the　poison　called　heredity；　the　sense　of　blood　in　the　aristocrat；　and　the　sense　of　doom　in　the　Calvinist。　　　　　The　priest　had　snatched　a　day　from　his　business　at　Glasgow　to　meet　his　friend　Flambeau；　the　amateur　detective；　who　was　at　Glengyle　Castle　with　another　more　formal　officer　investigating　the　life　and　death　of　the　late　Earl　of　Glengyle。　　That　mysterious　person　was　the　last　representative　of　a　race　whose　valour；　insanity；　and　violent　cunning　had　made　them　terrible　even　among　the　sinister　nobility　of　their　nation　in　the　sixteenth　century。　None　were　deeper　in　that　labyrinthine　ambition；　in　chamber　within　chamber　of　that　palace　of　lies　that　was　built　up　around　Mary　Queen　of　Scots。　　　　　The　rhyme　in　the　country…side　attested　the　motive　and　the　result　of　their　machinations　candidly：　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　As　green　sap　to　the　simmer　trees　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Is　red　gold　to　the　Ogilvies。　　　　　For　many　centuries　there　had　never　been　a　decent　lord　in　Glengyle　Castle；　and　with　the　Victorian　era　one　would　have　thought　that　all　eccentricities　were　exhausted。　　The　last　Glengyle；　however；　satisfied　his　tribal　tradition　by　doing　the　only　thing　that　was　left　for　him　to　do；　he　disappeared。　　I　do　not　mean　that　he　went　abroad；　by　all　accounts　he　was　still　in　the　castle；　if　he　was　anywhere。　　But　though　his　name　was　in　the　church　register　and　the　big　red　Peerage；　nobody　ever　saw　him　under　the　sun。　　　　　If　anyone　saw　him　it　was　a　solitary　man…servant；　something　between　a　groom　and　a　gardener。　　He　was　so　deaf　that　the　more　business…like　assumed　him　to　be　dumb；　while　the　more　penetrating　declared　him　to　be　half…witted。　　A　gaunt；　red…haired　labourer；　with　a　dogged　jaw　and　chin；　but　quite　blank　blue　eyes；　he　went　by　the　name　of　Israel　Gow；　and　was　the　one　silent　servant　on　that　deserted　estate。　　But　the　energy　with　which　he　dug　potatoes；　and　the　regularity　with　which　he　disappeared　into　the　kitchen　gave　people　an　impression　that　he　was　providing　for　the　meals　of　a　superior；　and　that　the　strange　earl　was　still　concealed　in　the　castle。　　If　society　needed　any　further　proof　that　he　was　there；　the　servant　persistently　asserted　that　he　was　not　at　home。　　One　morning　the　provost　and　the　minister　（for　the　Glengyles　were　Presbyterian）　were　summoned　to　the　castle。　　There　they　found　that　the　gardener；　groom　and　cook　had　added　to　his　many　professions　that　of　an　undertaker；　and　had　nailed　up　his　noble　master　in　a　coffin。　　With　how　much　or　how　little　further　inquiry　this　odd　fact　was　passed；　did　not　as　yet　very　plainly　appear；　for　the　thing　had　never　been　legally　investigated　till　Flambeau　had　gone　north　two　or　three　days　before。　　By　then　the　body　of　Lord　Glengyle　（if　it　was　the　body）　had　lain　for　some　time　in　the　little　churchyard　on　the　hill。　　　　　As　Father　Brown　passed　through　the　dim　garden　and　came　under　the　shadow　of　the　chateau；　the　clouds　were　thick　and　the　whole　air　damp　and　thundery。　　Against　the　last　stripe　of　the　green…gold　sunset　he　saw　a　black　human　silhouette；　a　man　in　a　chimney…pot　hat；　with　a　big　spade　over　his　shoulder。　　The　combination　was　queerly　suggestive　of　a　sexton；　but　when　Brown　remembered　the　deaf　servant　who　dug　potatoes；　he　thought　it　natural　enough。　　He　knew　something　of　the　Scotch　peasant；　he　knew　the　respectability　which　might　well　feel　it　necessary　to　wear　〃blacks〃　for　an　official　inquiry；　he　knew　also　the　economy　that　would　not　lose　an　hour's　digging　for　that。　　Even　the　man's　start　and　suspicious　stare　as　the　priest　went　by　were　consonant　enough　with　the　vigilance　and　jealousy　of　such　a　type。　　　　　The　great　door　was　opened　by　Flambeau　himself；　who　had　with　him　a　lean　man　with　iron…grey　hair　and　papers　in　his　hand：　Inspector　Craven　from　Scotland　Yard。　　The　entrance　hall　was　mostly　stripped　and　empty；　but　the　pale；　sneering　faces　of　one　or　two　of　the　wicked　Ogilvies　looked　down　out　of　black　periwigs　and　blackening　canvas。　　　　　Following　them　into　an　inner　room；　Father　Brown　found　that　the　allies　had　been　seated　at　a　long　oak　table；　of　which　their　end　was　covered　with　scribbled　papers；　flanked　with　whisky　and　cigars。　Through　the　whole　of　its　remaining　length　it　was　occupied　by　detached　objects　arranged　at　intervals；　objects　about　as　inexplicable　as　any　objects　could　be。　　One　looked　like　a　small　heap　of　glittering　broken　glass。　　Another　looked　like　a　high　heap　of　brown　dust。　　A　third　appeared　to　be　a　plain　stick　of　wood。　　　　　〃You　seem　to　have　a　sort　of　geological　museum　here；〃　he　said；　as　he　sat　down；　jerking　his　head　briefly　in　the　direction　of　the　brown　dust　and　the　crystalline　fragments。　　　　　〃Not　a　geological　museum；〃　replied　Flambeau；　〃say　a　psychological　museum。〃　　　　　〃Oh；　for　the　Lord's　sake；〃　cried　the　police　detective　laughing；　〃don't　let's　begin　with　such　long　words。〃　　　　　〃Don't　you　know　what　psychology　means？〃　asked　Flambeau　with　friendly　surprise。　　〃Psychology　means　being　off　your　chump。〃　　　　　〃Still　I　hardly　follow；〃　replied　the　official。　　　　　〃Well；〃　said　Flambeau；　with　decision；　〃I　mean　that　we've　only　found　out　one　thing　about　Lord　Glengyle。　　He　was　a　maniac。〃　　　　　The　black　silhouette　of　Gow　with　his　top　hat　and　spade　passed　the　window；　dimly　outlined　against　the　darkening　sky。　　Father　Brown　stared　passively　at　it　and　answered：　　　　　〃I　can　understand　there　must　have　been　something　odd　about　the　man；　or　he　wouldn't　have　buried　himself　alivenor　been　in　such　a　hurry　to　bury　himself　dead。　　But　what　makes　you　think　it　was　lunacy？〃　　　　　〃Well；〃　said　Flambeau；　〃you　just　listen　to　the　list　of　things　Mr。　Craven　has　found　in　the　house。〃　　　　　〃We　must　get　a　candle；〃　said　Craven；　suddenly。　　〃A　storm　is　getting　up；　and　it's　too　dark　to　read。〃　　　　　〃Have　you　found　any　candles；〃　asked　Brown　smiling；　〃among　your　oddities？〃　　　　　Flambeau　raised　a　grave　face；　and　fixed　his　dark　eyes　on　his　friend。　　　　　〃That　is　curious；　too；〃　he　said。　　〃Twenty…five　candles；　and　not　a　trace　of　a　candlestick。〃　　　　　In　the　rapidly　darkening　room　and　rapidly　rising　wind；　Brown　went　along　the　table　to　where　a　bundle　of　wax　candles　lay　among　the　other　scrappy　exhibits。　　As　he　did　so　he　bent　a