the innocence of father brown- 第25部分

cket；　and　beyond；　in　the　purple　twilight；　the　figure　of　the　Indian　sitting　bolt　upright　upon　a　bank　of　grass　with　his　face　turned　towards　the　setting　sun。　　Then　he　said　abruptly：　〃Where　is　Mrs。　Quinton！〃　　　　　〃She　has　gone　up　to　her　room；〃　said　the　doctor。　　〃That　is　her　shadow　on　the　blind。〃　　　　　Father　Brown　looked　up；　and　frowningly　scrutinised　a　dark　outline　at　the　gas…lit　window。　　　　　〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃that　is　her　shadow；〃　and　he　walked　a　yard　or　two　and　threw　himself　upon　a　garden　seat。　　　　　Flambeau　sat　down　beside　him；　but　the　doctor　was　one　of　those　energetic　people　who　live　naturally　on　their　legs。　　He　walked　away；　smoking；　into　the　twilight；　and　the　two　friends　were　left　together。　　　　　〃My　father；〃　said　Flambeau　in　French；　〃what　is　the　matter　with　you？〃　　　　　Father　Brown　was　silent　and　motionless　for　half　a　minute；　then　he　said：　〃Superstition　is　irreligious；　but　there　is　something　in　the　air　of　this　place。　　I　think　it's　that　Indianat　least；　partly。〃　　　　　He　sank　into　silence；　and　watched　the　distant　outline　of　the　Indian；　who　still　sat　rigid　as　if　in　prayer。　　At　first　sight　he　seemed　motionless；　but　as　Father　Brown　watched　him　he　saw　that　the　man　swayed　ever　so　slightly　with　a　rhythmic　movement；　just　as　the　dark　tree…tops　swayed　ever　so　slightly　in　the　wind　that　was　creeping　up　the　dim　garden　paths　and　shuffling　the　fallen　leaves　a　little。　　　　　The　landscape　was　growing　rapidly　dark；　as　if　for　a　storm；　but　they　could　still　see　all　the　figures　in　their　various　places。　Atkinson　was　leaning　against　a　tree　with　a　listless　face；　Quinton's　wife　was　still　at　her　window；　the　doctor　had　gone　strolling　round　the　end　of　the　conservatory；　they　could　see　his　cigar　like　a　will…o'…the…wisp；　and　the　fakir　still　sat　rigid　and　yet　rocking；　while　the　trees　above　him　began　to　rock　and　almost　to　roar。　　Storm　was　certainly　coming。　　　　　〃When　that　Indian　spoke　to　us；〃　went　on　Brown　in　a　conversational　undertone；　〃I　had　a　sort　of　vision；　a　vision　of　him　and　all　his　universe。　　Yet　he　only　said　the　same　thing　three　times。　　When　first　he　said　‘I　want　nothing；'　it　meant　only　that　he　was　impenetrable；　that　Asia　does　not　give　itself　away。　　Then　he　said　again；　‘I　want　nothing；'　and　I　knew　that　he　meant　that　he　was　sufficient　to　himself；　like　a　cosmos；　that　he　needed　no　God；　neither　admitted　any　sins。　　And　when　he　said　the　third　time；　‘I　want　nothing；'　he　said　it　with　blazing　eyes。　　And　I　knew　that　he　meant　literally　what　he　said；　that　nothing　was　his　desire　and　his　home；　that　he　was　weary　for　nothing　as　for　wine；　that　annihilation；　the　mere　destruction　of　everything　or　anything〃　　　　　Two　drops　of　rain　fell；　and　for　some　reason　Flambeau　started　and　looked　up；　as　if　they　had　stung　him。　　And　the　same　instant　the　doctor　down　by　the　end　of　the　conservatory　began　running　towards　them；　calling　out　something　as　he　ran。　　　　　As　he　came　among　them　like　a　bombshell　the　restless　Atkinson　happened　to　be　taking　a　turn　nearer　to　the　house　front；　and　the　doctor　clutched　him　by　the　collar　in　a　convulsive　grip。　　〃Foul　play！〃　he　cried；　〃what　have　you　been　doing　to　him；　you　dog？〃　　　　　The　priest　had　sprung　erect；　and　had　the　voice　of　steel　of　a　soldier　in　command。　　　　　〃No　fighting；〃　he　cried　coolly；　〃we　are　enough　to　hold　anyone　we　want　to。　　What　is　the　matter；　doctor？〃　　　　　〃Things　are　not　right　with　Quinton；〃　said　the　doctor；　quite　white。　　〃I　could　just　see　him　through　the　glass；　and　I　don't　like　the　way　he's　lying。　　It's　not　as　I　left　him；　anyhow。〃　　　　　〃Let　us　go　in　to　him；〃　said　Father　Brown　shortly。　　〃You　can　leave　Mr。　Atkinson　alone。　　I　have　had　him　in　sight　since　we　heard　Quinton's　voice。〃　　　　　〃I　will　stop　here　and　watch　him；〃　said　Flambeau　hurriedly。　〃You　go　in　and　see。〃　　　　　The　doctor　and　the　priest　flew　to　the　study　door；　unlocked　it；　and　fell　into　the　room。　　In　doing　so　they　nearly　fell　over　the　large　mahogany　table　in　the　centre　at　which　the　poet　usually　wrote；　for　the　place　was　lit　only　by　a　small　fire　kept　for　the　invalid。　　In　the　middle　of　this　table　lay　a　single　sheet　of　paper；　evidently　left　there　on　purpose。　　The　doctor　snatched　it　up；　glanced　at　it；　handed　it　to　Father　Brown；　and　crying；　〃Good　God；　look　at　that！〃　plunged　toward　the　glass　room　beyond；　where　the　terrible　tropic　flowers　still　seemed　to　keep　a　crimson　memory　of　the　sunset。　　　　　Father　Brown　read　the　words　three　times　before　he　put　down　the　paper。　　The　words　were：　〃I　die　by　my　own　hand；　yet　I　die　murdered！〃　They　were　in　the　quite　inimitable；　not　to　say　illegible；　handwriting　of　Leonard　Quinton。　　　　　Then　Father　Brown；　still　keeping　the　paper　in　his　hand；　strode　towards　the　conservatory；　only　to　meet　his　medical　friend　coming　back　with　a　face　of　assurance　and　collapse。　　〃He's　done　it；〃　said　Harris。　　　　　They　went　together　through　the　gorgeous　unnatural　beauty　of　cactus　and　azalea　and　found　Leonard　Quinton；　poet　and　romancer；　with　his　head　hanging　downward　off　his　ottoman　and　his　red　curls　sweeping　the　ground。　　Into　his　left　side　was　thrust　the　queer　dagger　that　they　had　picked　up　in　the　garden；　and　his　limp　hand　still　rested　on　the　hilt。　　　　　Outside　the　storm　had　come　at　one　stride；　like　the　night　in　Coleridge；　and　garden　and　glass　roof　were　darkened　with　driving　rain。　　Father　Brown　seemed　to　be　studying　the　paper　more　than　the　corpse；　he　held　it　close　to　his　eyes；　and　seemed　trying　to　read　it　in　the　twilight。　　Then　he　held　it　up　against　the　faint　light；　and；　as　he　did　so；　lightning　stared　at　them　for　an　instant　so　white　that　the　paper　looked　black　against　it。　　　　　Darkness　full　of　thunder　followed；　and　after　the　thunder　Father　Brown's　voice　said　out　of　the　dark：　〃Doctor；　this　paper　is　the　wrong　shape。〃　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　asked　Doctor　Harris；　with　a　frowning　stare。　　　　　〃It　isn't　square；〃　answered　Brown。　　〃It　has　a　sort　of　edge　snipped　off　at　the　corner。　　What　does　it　mean？〃　　　　　〃How　the　deuce　should　I　know？〃　growled　the　doctor。　　〃Shall　we　move　this　poor　chap；　do　you　think？　　He's　quite　dead。〃　　　　　〃No；〃　answered　the　priest；　〃we　must　leave　him　as　he　lies　and　send　for　the　police。〃　　But　he　was　still　scrutinising　the　paper。　　　　　As　they　went　back　through　the　study　he　stopped　by　the　table　and　picked　up　a　small　pair　of　nail　scissors。　　〃Ah；〃　he　said；　with　a　sort　of　relief；　〃this　is　what　he　did　it　with。　　But　yet〃　　And　he　knitted　his　brows。　　　　　〃Oh；　stop　fooling　with　that　scrap　of　paper；〃　said　the　doctor　emphatically。　　〃It　was　a　fad　of　his。　　He　had　hundreds　of　them。　　He　cut　all　his　paper　like　that；〃　as　he　pointed　to　a　stack　of　sermon　paper　still　unused　on　another　and　smaller　table。　　Father　Brown　went　up　to　it　and　held　up　a　sheet。　　It　was　the　same　irregular　shape。　　　　　〃Quite　so；〃　he　said。　　〃And　here　I　see　the　corners　that　were　snipped　off。〃　　And　to　the　indignation　of　his　colleague　he　began　to　count　them。　　　　　〃That's　all　right；〃　he　said；　with　an　apologetic　smile。　〃Twenty…three　sheets　cut　and　twenty…two　corners　cut　off　them。　　And　as　I　see　you　are　impatient　we　will　rejoin　the　others。〃　　　　　〃Who　is　to　tell　his　wife？〃　asked　Dr。　Harris。　　〃Will　you　go　and　tell　her　now；　while　I　send　a　servant　for　the　police？〃　　　　　〃As　you　will；〃　said　Father　Brown　indifferently。　　And　he　went　out　to　the　hall　door。　　　　　Here　also　he　found　a　drama；　though　of　a　more　grotesque　sort。　It　showed　nothing　less　than　his　big　friend　Flambeau　in　an　attitude　to　which　he　had　long　been　unaccustomed；　while　upon　the　pathway　at　the　bottom　of　the　steps　was　sprawling　with　his　boots　in　the　air　the　amiable　Atkinson；　his　billycock　hat　and　walking　cane　sent　flying　in　opposite　directions　along　the　path。　　Atkinson　had　at　length　wearied　of　Flambeau's　almost　paternal　custody；　and　had　endeavoured　to　knock　him　down；　which　was　by　no　means　a　smooth　game　to　play　with　the　Roi　des　Apaches；　even　after　that　monarch's　abdication。　　　　　Flambeau　was　about　to　leap　upon　his　enemy　and　secure　him　once　more；　when　the　priest　patted　him　easily　on　the　shoulder。　　　　　〃Make　it　up　with　Mr。　Atkinson；　my　friend；〃　he　said。　　〃Beg　a　mutual　pardon　and　say　‘Good　night。'　　We　need　not　detain　him　any　longer。〃　　Then；　as　Atkinson　rose　somewhat　doubtfully　and　gathered　his　hat　and　stick　and　went　towards　the　garden　gate；　Father　Brown　said　in　a　more　serious　voice：　〃Where　is　that　Indian？〃　　　　　They　all　three　（for　the　doctor　had　joined　them）　turned　involuntarily　towards　the　dim　grassy　bank　amid　the　tossing　trees　purple　with　twilight；　where　they　had　last　seen　the　brown　man　swaying　in　his　strange　prayers。　　The　Indian　was　gone。　　　　　〃Confound　him；〃　cried　the　doctor；　stamping　furiously。　　〃Now　I　know　that　it　was　that　nigger　that　did　it。〃　　　　　〃I　thought　you　didn't　believe　in　magic；〃　said　Father　Brown　quietly。　　　　　〃No　more　I　did；〃　said　the　doctor；　rolling　his　eyes。　　〃I　only　know　that　I　loathed　that　yellow　devil　when　I　thought　he　was　a　sham　wizard。　　And　I　shall　loathe　him　more　if　I　come　to　think　he　was　a　real　one。〃　　　　　〃Well；　his　having　escaped　is　nothing；〃　said　Flambeau。　　〃For　we　could　have　proved　nothing　and　done　nothing　against　him。　　One　hardly　goes　to　the　parish　constable　with　a　story　of　suicide　imposed　by　witchcraft　or　auto…suggestion。〃　　　　　Meanwhile　Father　Brown　had　made　his　way　into　the　house；　and　now　went　to　break　the　news　to　the　wife　of　the　dead　man。　　　　　When　he　came　out　again　he　looked　a　little　pale　and　tragic；　but　what　passed　between　them　in　that　interview　was　never　known；　even　when　all　was　known。　　　　　Flambeau；　who　was　talking　quietly　with　the　doctor；　was　surprised　to　see　his　friend　reappear　so　soon　at　his　elbow；　but　Brown　took　no　notice；　and　merely　drew　the　doctor　apart。　　〃You　have　sent　for　the　police；　haven't　you？〃　he　asked。　　　　　〃Yes；〃　answered　Harris。　　〃They　ought　to　be　here　in　ten　minutes。〃　　　　　〃Will　you　do　me　a　favour？〃　said　the　priest　quietly。　　〃The　truth　is；　I　make　a　collection　of　these　curious　stories；　which　often　contain；　as　in　the　case　of　our　Hindoo　friend；　elements　which　can　hardly　be　put　into　a　police　report。　　Now；　I　want　you　to　write　out　a　report　of　this　case　for　my　private　use。　　Yours　is　a　clever　trade；〃　he　said；　looking　the　doctor　gravely　and　steadily　in　the　face。　　〃I　sometimes　think　that　you　know　some　details　of　this　matter　which　you　have　not　thought　fit　to　mention。　　Mine　is　a　confidential　trade　like　yours；　and　I　will　treat　anything　you　write　for　me　in　strict　confidence。　　But　write　the　whole。〃　　　　　The　doctor；　who　had　been　listening　thoughtfully　with　his　head　a　little　on　one　side；　looked　the　priest　in　the　face　fo