the innocence of father brown-第25章

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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　accidentally　over　the　heap　of　red…brown　dust；　and　a　sharp　sneeze　cracked　the　silence。　　　　　〃Hullo！〃　he　said；　〃snuff！〃　　　　　He　took　one　of　the　candles；　lit　it　carefully；　came　back　and　stuck　it　in　the　neck　of　the　whisky　bottle。　　The　unrestful　night　air；　blowing　through　the　crazy　window；　waved　the　long　flame　like　a　banner。　　And　on　every　side　of　the　castle　they　could　hear　the　miles　and　miles　of　black　pine　wood　seething　like　a　black　sea　around　a　rock。　　　　　〃I　will　read　the　inventory；〃　began　Craven　gravely；　picking　up　one　of　the　papers；　〃the　inventory　of　what　we　found　loose　and　unexplained　in　the　castle。　　You　are　to　understand　that　the　place　generally　was　dismantled　and　neglected；　but　one　or　two　rooms　had　plainly　been　inhabited　in　a　simple　but　not　squalid　style　by　somebody；　somebody　who　was　not　the　servant　Gow。　　The　list　is　as　follows：　　　　　〃First　item。　　A　very　considerable　hoard　of　precious　stones；　nearly　all　diamonds；　and　all　of　them　loose；　without　any　setting　whatever。　　Of　course；　it　is　natural　that　the　Ogilvies　should　have　family　jewels；　but　those　are　exactly　the　jewels　that　are　almost　always　set　in　particular　articles　of　ornament。　　The　Ogilvies　would　seem　to　have　kept　theirs　loose　in　their　pockets；　like　coppers。　　　　　〃Second　item。　　Heaps　and　heaps　of　loose　snuff；　not　kept　in　a　horn；　or　even　a　pouch；　but　lying　in　heaps　on　the　mantelpieces；　on　the　sideboard；　on　the　piano；　anywhere。　　It　looks　as　if　the　old　gentleman　would　not　take　the　trouble　to　look　in　a　pocket　or　lift　a　lid。　　　　　〃Third　item。　　Here　and　there　about　the　house　curious　little　heaps　of　minute　pieces　of　metal；　some　like　steel　springs　and　some　in　the　form　of　microscopic　wheels。　　As　if　they　had　gutted　some　mechanical　toy。　　　　　〃Fourth　item。　　The　wax　candles；　which　have　to　be　stuck　in　bottle　necks　because　there　is　nothing　else　to　stick　them　in。　　Now　I　wish　you　to　note　how　very　much　queerer　all　this　is　than　anything　we　anticipated。　　For　the　central　riddle　we　are　prepared；　we　have　all　seen　at　a　glance　that　there　was　something　wrong　about　the　last　earl。　　We　have　come