the wisdom of father brown-第37章

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e　cook　the　call　of　the　proprietor。　　But　he　reflected　that　head　cooks　are　proverbially　arrogant；　and；　besides；　the　host　had　come　back　with　the　sherry；　and　that　was　the　great　thing。

　　　　　〃I　rather　wonder；〃　said　Father　Brown；　〃that　there　are　so　few　people　about　the　beach；　when　this　big　fight　is　coming　on　after　all。　　We　only　met　one　man　for　miles。〃

　　　　　The　hotel　proprietor　shrugged　his　shoulders。　　〃They　come　from　the　other　end　of　the　town；　you　seefrom　the　station；　three　miles　from　here。　　They　are　only　interested　in　the　sport；　and　will　stop　in　hotels　for　the　night　only。　　After　all；　it　is　hardly　weather　for　basking　on　the　shore。〃

　　　　　〃Or　on　the　seat；〃　said　Flambeau；　and　pointed　to　the　little　table。

　　　　　〃I　have　to　keep　a　look…out；〃　said　the　man　with　the　motionless　face。　　He　was　a　quiet；　well…featured　fellow；　rather　sallow；　his　dark　clothes　had　nothing　distinctive　about　them；　except　that　his　black　necktie　was　worn　rather　high；　like　a　stock；　and　secured　by　a　gold　pin　with　some　grotesque　head　to　it。　　Nor　was　there　anything　notable　in　the　face；　except　something　that　was　probably　a　mere　nervous　trick　a　habit　of　opening　one　eye　more　narrowly　than　the　other；　giving　the　impression　that　the　other　was　larger；　or　was；　perhaps；　artificial。

　　　　　The　silence　that　ensued　was　broken　by　their　host　saying　quietly：　　〃Whereabouts　did　you　meet　the　one　man　on　your　march？〃

　　　　　〃Curiously　enough；〃　answered　the　priest；　〃close　by　here　just　by　that　bandstand。〃

　　　　　Flambeau；　who　had　sat　on　the　long　iron　seat　to　finish　his　sherry；　put　it　down　and　rose　to　his　feet；　staring　at　his　friend　in　amazement。　　He　opened　his　mouth　to　speak；　and　then　shut　it　again。

　　　　　〃Curious；〃　said　the　dark…haired　man　thoughtfully。　　〃What　was　he　like？〃

　　　　　〃It　was　rather　dark　when　I　saw　him；〃　began　Father　Brown；　〃but　he　was〃

　　　　　As　has　been　said；　the　hotel…keeper　can　be　proved　to　have　told　the　precise　truth。　　His　phrase　that　the　cook　was　starting　presently　was　fulfilled　to　the　letter；　for　the　cook　came　out；　pulling　his　gloves　on；　even　as　they　spoke。

　　　　　But　he　was　a　very　different　figure　from　the　confused　mass　of　white　and　black　that　had　appeared　for　an　instant　in　the　doorway。　　He　was　buttoned　and　buckled　up　to　his　bursting　eyeballs　in　the　most　brilliant　fashion。　　A　tall　black　hat　was　tilted　on　his　broad　black　head　a　hat　of　the　sort　that　the　French　wit　has　compared　to　eight　mirrors。　　But　somehow　the　black　man　was　like　the　black　hat。　　He　also　was　black；　and　yet　his　glossy　skin　flung　back　the　light　at　eight　angles　or　more。　　It　is　needless　to　say　that　he　wore　white　spats　and　a　white　slip　inside　his　waistcoat。　　The　red　flower　stood　up　in　his　buttonhole　aggressively；　as　if　it　had　suddenly　grown　there。　　And　in　the　way　he　carried　his　cane　in　one　hand　and　his　cigar　in　the　other　there　was　a　certain　attitude　an　attitude　we　must　always　remember　when　we　talk　of　racial　prejudices：　　something　innocent　and　insolentthe　cake　walk。

　　　　　〃Sometimes；〃　said　Flambeau；　looking　after　him；　〃I'm　not　surprised　that　they　lynch　them。〃

　　　　　〃I　am　never　surprised；〃　said　Father　Brown；　〃at　any　work　of　hell。　　But　as　I　was　saying；〃　he　resumed；　as　the　negro；　still　ostentatiously　pulling　on　his　yellow　gloves；　betook　himself　briskly　towards　the　watering…place；　a　queer　music…hall　figure　against　that　grey　and　frosty　scene〃as　I　was　saying；　I　couldn't　describe　the　man　very　minutely；　but　he　had　a　flourish　and　old…fashioned　whiskers　and　moustachios；　dark　or　dyed；　as　in　the　pictures　of　foreign　financiers；　round　his　neck　was　wrapped　a　long　purple　scarf　that　thrashed　out　in　the　wind　as　he　walked。　　It　was　fixed　at　the　throat　rather　in　the　way　that　nurses　fix　children's　comforters　with　a　safety…pin。　　Only　this；〃　added　the　priest；　gazing　placidly　out　to　sea；　〃was　not　a　safety…pin。〃

　　　　　The　man　sitting　on　the　long　iron　bench　was　also　gazing　placidly　out　to　sea。　　Now　he　was　once　more　in　repose。　　Flambeau　felt　quite　certain　that　one　of　his　eyes　was　naturally　larger　than　the　other。　　Both　were　now　well　opened；　and　he　could　almost　fancy　the　left　eye　grew　larger　as　he　gazed。

　　　　　〃It　was　a　very　long　gold　pin；　and　had　the　carved　head　of　a　monkey　or　some　such　thing；〃　continued　the　cleric；　〃and　it　was　fixed　in　a　rather　odd　wayhe　wore　pince…nez　and　a　broad　black〃

　　　　　The　motionless　man　continued　to　gaze　at　the　sea；　and　the　eyes　in　his　head　might　have　belonged　to　two　different　men。　　Then　he　made　a　movement　of　blinding　swiftness。

　　　　　Father　Brown　had　his　back　to　him；　and　in　that　flash　might　have　fallen　dead　on　his　face。　　Flambeau　had　no　weapon；　but　his　large　brown　hands　were　resting　on　the　end　of　the　long　iron　seat。　　His　shoulders　abruptly　altered　their　shape；　and　he　heaved　the　whole　huge　thing　high　over　his　head；　like　a　headsman's　axe　about　to　fall。　　The　mere　height　of　the　thing；　as　he　held　it　vertical；　looked　like　a　long　iron　ladder　by　which　he　was　inviting　men　to　climb　towards　the　stars。　　But　the　long　shadow；　in　the　level　evening　light；　looked　like　a　giant　brandishing　the　Eiffel　Tower。　　It　was　the　shock　of　that　shadow；　before　the　shock　of　the　iron　crash；　that　made　the　stranger　quail　and　dodge；　and　then　dart　into　his　inn；　leaving　the　flat　and　shining　dagger　he　had　dropped　exactly　where　it　had　fallen。

　　　　　〃We　must　get　away　from　here　instantly；〃　cried　Flambeau；　flinging　the　huge　seat　away　with　furious　indifference　on　the　beach。　　He　caught　the　little　priest　by　the　elbow　and　ran　him　down　a　grey　perspective　of　barren　back　garden；　at　the　end　of　which　there　was　a　closed　back　garden　door。　　Flambeau　bent　over　it　an　instant　in　violent　silence；　and　then　said：　　〃The　door　is　locked。〃

　　　　　As　he　spoke　a　black　feather　from　one　of　the　ornamental　firs　fell；　brushing　the　brim　of　his　hat。　　It　startled　him　more　than　the　small　and　distant　detonation　that　had　come　just　before。　　Then　came　another　distant　detonation；　and　the　door　he　was　trying　to　open　shook　under　the　bullet　buried　in　it。　　Flambeau's　shoulders　again　filled　out　and　altered　suddenly。　　Three　hinges　and　a　lock　burst　at　the　same　instant；　and　he　went　out　into　the　empty　path　behind；　carrying　the　great　garden　door　with　him；　as　Samson　carried　the　gates　of　Gaza。

　　　　　Then　he　flung　the　garden　door　over　the　garden　wall；　just　as　a　third　shot　picked　up　a　spurt　of　snow　and　dust　behind　his　heel。　　Without　ceremony　he　snatched　up　the　little　priest；　slung　him　astraddle　on　his　shoulders；　and　went　racing　towards　Seawood　as　fast　as　his　long　legs　could　carry　him。　　It　was　not　until　nearly　two　miles　farther　on　that　he　set　his　small　companion　down。　　It　had　hardly　been　a　dignified　escape；　in　spite　of　the　classic　model　of　Anchises；　but　Father　Brown's　face　only　wore　a　broad　grin。

　　　　　〃Well；〃　said　Flambeau；　after　an　impatient　silence；　as　they　resumed　their　more　conventional　tramp　through　the　streets　on　the　edge　of　the　town；　where　no　outrage　need　be　feared；　〃I　don't　know　what　all　this　means；　but　I　take　it　I　may　trust　my　own　eyes　that　you　never　met　the　man　you　have　so　accurately　described。〃

　　　　　〃I　did　meet　him　in　a　way；〃　Brown　said；　biting　his　finger　rather　nervously〃I　did　really。　　And　it　was　too　dark　to　see　him　properly；　because　it　was　under　that　bandstand　affair。　　But　I'm　afraid　I　didn't　describe　him　so　very　accurately　after　all；　for　his　pince…nez　was　broken　under　him；　and　the　long　gold　pin　wasn't　stuck　through　his　purple　scarf　but　through　his　heart。〃

　　　　　〃And　I　suppose；〃　said　the　other　in　a　lower　voice；　〃that　glass…eyed　guy　had　something　to　do　with　it。〃

　　　　　〃I　had　hoped　he　had　only　a　little；〃　answered　Brown　in　a　rather　troubled　voice；　〃and　I　may　have　been　wrong　in　what　I　did。　　I　acted　on　impulse。　　But　I　fear　this　business　has　deep　roots　and　dark。〃

　　　　　They　walked　on　through　some　streets　in　silence。　　The　yellow　lamps　were　beginning　to　be　lit　in　the　cold　blue　twilight；　and　they　were　evidently　approaching　the　more　central　parts　of　the　town。　　Highly　coloured　bills　announcing　the　glove…fight　between　Nigger　Ned　and　Malvoli　were　slapped　about　the　walls。

　　　　　〃Well；〃　said　Flambeau；　〃I　never　murdered　anyone；　even　in　my　criminal　days；　but　I　can　almost　sympathize　with　anyone　doing　it　in　such　a　dreary　place。　　Of　all　God…forsaken　dustbins　of　Nature；　I　think　the　most　heart…breaking　are　places　like　that　bandstand；　that　were　meant　to　be　festive　and　are　forlorn。