the man who knew too much-第24章

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　bent　in　the　water；　so　that　he　seemed　for　a　moment　to　lean　his　large　weight　on　a　breaking　staff。

〃The　worst　you　can　expect　is　to　see　an　abbot　sit　down　rather　suddenly；〃　he　added；　turning　away。　〃Well；　au　revoir；　I'll　let　you　know　about　it　later。〃

The　archaeologist　and　the　architect　were　left　on　the　great　stone　steps　smiling　at　each　other；　but　whatever　their　common　interests；　they　presented　　a　considerable　personal　contrast；　and　the　fanciful　might　even　have　found　some　contradiction　in　　each　considered　individually。　The　former；　a　Mr。　　James　Haddow；　came　from　a　drowsy　den　in　the　Inns　of　Court；　full　of　leather　and　parchment；　for　the　law　was　his　profession　and　history　only　his　hobby；　he　was　indeed；　among　other　things；　the　solicitor　and　agent　of　the　Prior's　Park　estate。　But　he　himself　was　far　from　drowsy　and　seemed　remarkably　wide　awake；　with　shrewd　and　prominent　blue　eyes；　and　red　hair　brushed　as　neatly　as　his　very　neat　costume。　The　latter；　whose　name　was　Leonard　Crane；　came　straight　from　a　crude　and　almost　cockney　office　of　builders　and　house　agents　in　the　neighboring　suburb；　sunning　itself　at　the　end　of　a　new　row　of　jerry…built　houses　with　plans　in　very　bright　colors　and　notices　in　very　large　letters。　But　a　serious　observer；　at　a　second　glance；　might　have　seen　in　his　eyes　something　of　that　shining　sleep　that　is　called　vision；　and　his　yellow　hair；　while　not　affectedly　long；　was　unaffectedly　untidy。　It　was　a　manifest　if　melancholy　truth　that　the　architect　was　an　artist。　But　the　artistic　temperament　was　far　from　explaining　　him；　there　was　something　else　about　him　that　was　not　definable；　but　which　some　even　felt　to　be　dangerous。　Despite　his　dreaminess；　he　would　sometimes　surprise　his　friends　with　arts　and　even　sports　apart　from　his　ordinary　life；　like　memories　of　some　previous　existence。　On　this　occasion；　nevertheless；　he　hastened　to　disclaim　any　authority　on　the　other　man's　hobby。

〃I　mustn't　appear　on　false　pretences；〃　he　said；　with　a　smile。　〃I　hardly　even　know　what　an　archaeologist　is；　except　that　a　rather　rusty　remnant　of　Greek　suggests　that　he　is　a　man　who　studies　old　things。〃

〃Yes；〃　replied　Haddow；　grimly。　〃An　archaeologist　is　a　man　who　studies　old　things　and　finds　they　are　new。〃

Crane　looked　at　him　steadily　for　a　moment　and　then　smiled　again。

〃Dare　one　suggest；〃　he　said；　〃that　some　of　the　things　we　have　been　talking　about　are　among　the　old　things　that　turn　out　not　to　be　old？〃

His　companion　also　was　silent　for　a　moment；　and　the　smile　on　his　rugged　face　was　fainter　as　he　replied；　quietly：

〃The　wall　round　the　park　is　really　old。　The　one　gate　in　it　is　Gothic；　and　I　cannot　find　any　trace　of　destruction　or　restoration。　But　the　house　and　the　estate　generallywell　the　romantic　ideas　read　into　these　things　are　often　rather　recent　romances；　things　almost　like　fashionable　novels。　For　instance；　the　very　name　of　this　place；　Prior's　Park；　makes　everybody　think　of　it　as　a　moonlit　mediaeval　abbey；　I　dare　say　the　spiritualists　by　this　time　have　discovered　the　ghost　of　a　monk　there。　But；　according　to　the　only　authoritative　study　of　the　matter　I　can　find；　the　place　was　simply　called　Prior's　as　any　rural　place　is　called　Podger's。　It　was　the　house　of　a　Mr。　Prior；　a　farmhouse；　probably；　that　stood　here　at　some　time　or　other　and　was　a　local　landmark。　Oh；　there　are　a　great　many　examples　of　the　same　thing；　here　and　everywhere　else。　This　suburb　of　ours　used　to　be　a　village；　and　because　some　of　the　people　slurred　the　name　and　pronounced　it　Holliwell；　many　a　minor　poet　indulged　in　fancies　about　a　Holy　Well；　with　spells　and　fairies　and　all　the　rest　of　it；　filling　the　suburban　drawing…rooms　with　the　Celtic　twilight。　Whereas　anyone　acquainted　with　the　facts　knows　that　'Hollinwall'　simply　means　'the　hole　in　the　wall；'　and　probably　referred　to　some　quite　trivial　accident。　That's　what　I　mean　when　I　say　that　we　don't　so　much　find　old　things　as　we　find　new　ones。〃

Crane　seemed　to　have　grown　somewhat　inattentive　to　the　little　lecture　on　antiquities　and　novelties；　and　the　cause　of　his　restlessness　was　soon　apparent；　and　indeed　approaching。　Lord　Bulmer's　sister；　Juliet　Bray；　was　coming　slowly　across　the　lawn；　accompanied　by　one　gentleman　　and　followed　by　two　others。　The　young　architect　was　in　the　illogical　condition　of　mind　in　which　he　preferred　three　to　one。

The　man　walking　with　the　lady　was　no　other　than　the　eminent　Prince　Borodino；　who　was　at　least　as　famous　as　a　distinguished　diplomatist　ought　to　be；　in　the　interests　of　what　is　called　secret　diplomacy。　He　had　been　paying　a　round　of　visits　at　various　English　country　houses；　and　exactly　what　he　was　doing　for　diplomacy　at　Prior's　Park　was　as　much　a　secret　as　any　diplomatist　could　desire。　The　obvious　thing　to　say　of　his　appearance　was　that　he　would　have　been　extremely　handsome　if　he　had　not　been　entirely　bald。　But；　indeed；　that　would　itself　be　a　rather　bald　way　of　putting　it。　Fantastic　as　it　sounds；　it　would　fit　the　case　better　to　say　that　people　would　have　been　surprised　to　see　hair　growing　on　him；　as　surprised　as　if　they　had　found　hair　growing　on　the　bust　of　a　Roman　emperor。　His　tall　figure　was　buttoned　up　in　a　tight…waisted　fashion　that　rather　accentuated　his　potential　bulk；　and　he　wore　a　red　flower　in　his　buttonhole。　Of　the　two　men　walking　behind　one　was　also　bald；　but　in　a　more　partial　and　also　a　more　premature　fashion；　for　his　drooping　mustache　was　still　yellow；　and　if　his　eyes　were　somewhat　heavy　it　was　with　languor　and　not　with　age。　It　was　Horne　Fisher；　and　he　was　talking　as　easily　and　idly　about　everything　as　he　always　did。　His　always　did。　His　companion　was　a　more　striking；　and　even　more　　companion　was　a　more　striking；　and　even　more　sinister；　figure；　and　he　had　the　added　importance　of　being　Lord　Bulmer's　oldest　and　most　intimate　friend。　He　was　generally　known　with　a　severe　simplicity　as　Mr。　Brain；　but　it　was　understood　that　he　had　been　a　judge　and　police　official　in　India；　and　that　he　had　enemies；　who　had　represented　his　measures　against　crime　as　themselves　almost　criminal。　He　was　a　brown　skeleton　of　a　man　with　dark；　deep；　sunken　eyes　and　a　black　mustache　that　hid　the　meaning　of　his　mouth。　Though　he　had　the　look　of　one　wasted　by　some　tropical　disease；　his　movements　were　much　more　alert　than　those　of　his　lounging　companion。

〃It's　all　settled；〃　announced　the　lady；　with　great　animation；　when　they　came　within　hailing　distance。　〃You've　all　got　to　put　on　masquerade　things　and　very　likely　skates　as　well；　though　the　prince　says　they　don't　go　with　it；　but　we　don't　care　about　that。　It's　freezing　already；　and　we　don't　often　get　such　a　chance　in　England。〃

〃Even　in　India　we　don't　exactly　skate　all　the　year　round；〃　observed　Mr。　Brain。

〃And　even　Italy　is　not　primarily　associated　with　ice；〃　said　the　Italian。

〃Italy　is　primarily　associated　with　ices；〃　remarked　Mr。　Horne　Fisher。　〃I　mean　with　ice　cream　men。　Most　people　in　this　country　imagine　that　Italy　is　entirely　populated　with　ice　cream　men　and　organ　grinders。　There　certainly　are　a　lot　of　them；　perhaps　they're　an　invading　army　in　disguise。〃

〃How　do　you　know　they　are　not　the　secret　emissaries　of　our　diplomacy？〃　asked　the　prince；　with　a　slightly　scornful　smile。　〃An　army　of　organ　grinders　might　pick　up　hints；　and　their　monkeys　might　pick　up　all　sort　of　things。〃

〃The　organs　are　organized　in　fact；〃　said　the　flippant　Mr。　Fisher。　〃Well；　I've　known　it　pretty　cold　before　now　in　Italy　and　even　in　India；　up　on　the　Himalayan　slopes。　The　ice　on　our　own　little　round　pond　will　be　quite　cozy　by　comparison。〃

Juliet　Bray　was　an　attractive　lady　with　dark　hair　and　eyebrows　and　dancing　eyes；　and　there　was　a　geniality　and　even　generosity　in　her　rather　imperious　ways。　In　most　matters　she　could　command　her　brother；　though　that　nobleman；　like　many　other　men　of　vague　ideas；　was　not　without　a　touch　of　the　bully　when　he　was　at　bay。　She　could　certainly　command　her　guests；　even　to　the　extent　of　decking　out　the　most　respectable　and　reluctant　of　them　with　her　mediaeval　masquerade。　And　it　really　seemed　as　if　she　could　command　the　elements　also；　like　a　witch。　For　the　weather　steadily　hardened　and　sharpened；　that　night　the　ice　of　the　lake；　glimmering　in　the　moonlight；　was　like　a　marble　floor；　and　they　had　begun　to　dance　and　skate　on　it　before　it　was　dark。

Prior's　P