the innocence of father brown- 第40部分

off。　　I　wish　it　was　his　head。'　　You　will　remark　that　everyone　seems　to　have　noticed　this　detail　about　the　broken　sword　blade；　though　most　people　regard　it　somewhat　more　reverently　than　did　the　late　Colonel　Clancy。　　And　now　for　the　third　fragment。〃　　　　　Their　path　through　the　woodland　began　to　go　upward；　and　the　speaker　paused　a　little　for　breath　before　he　went　on。　　Then　he　continued　in　the　same　business…like　tone：　　　　　〃Only　a　month　or　two　ago　a　certain　Brazilian　official　died　in　England；　having　quarrelled　with　Olivier　and　left　his　country。　　He　was　a　well…known　figure　both　here　and　on　the　Continent；　a　Spaniard　named　Espado；　I　knew　him　myself；　a　yellow…faced　old　dandy；　with　a　hooked　nose。　　For　various　private　reasons　I　had　permission　to　see　the　documents　he　had　left；　he　was　a　Catholic；　of　course；　and　I　had　been　with　him　towards　the　end。　　There　was　nothing　of　his　that　lit　up　any　corner　of　the　black　St。　Clare　business；　except　five　or　six　common　exercise　books　filled　with　the　diary　of　some　English　soldier。　　I　can　only　suppose　that　it　was　found　by　the　Brazilians　on　one　of　those　that　fell。　　Anyhow；　it　stopped　abruptly　the　night　before　the　battle。　　　　　〃But　the　account　of　that　last　day　in　the　poor　fellow's　life　was　certainly　worth　reading。　　I　have　it　on　me；　but　it's　too　dark　to　read　it　here；　and　I　will　give　you　a　resume。　　The　first　part　of　that　entry　is　full　of　jokes；　evidently　flung　about　among　the　men；　about　somebody　called　the　Vulture。　　It　does　not　seem　as　if　this　person；　whoever　he　was；　was　one　of　themselves；　nor　even　an　Englishman；　neither　is　he　exactly　spoken　of　as　one　of　the　enemy。　It　sounds　rather　as　if　he　were　some　local　go…between　and　non…combatant；　perhaps　a　guide　or　a　journalist。　　He　has　been　closeted　with　old　Colonel　Clancy；　but　is　more　often　seen　talking　to　the　major。　　Indeed；　the　major　is　somewhat　prominent　in　this　soldier's　narrative；　a　lean；　dark…haired　man；　apparently；　of　the　name　of　Murraya　north　of　Ireland　man　and　a　Puritan。　　There　are　continual　jests　about　the　contrast　between　this　Ulsterman's　austerity　and　the　conviviality　of　Colonel　Clancy。　　There　is　also　some　joke　about　the　Vulture　wearing　bright…coloured　clothes。　　　　　〃But　all　these　levities　are　scattered　by　what　may　well　be　called　the　note　of　a　bugle。　　Behind　the　English　camp　and　almost　parallel　to　the　river　ran　one　of　the　few　great　roads　of　that　district。　　Westward　the　road　curved　round　towards　the　river；　which　it　crossed　by　the　bridge　before　mentioned。　　To　the　east　the　road　swept　backwards　into　the　wilds；　and　some　two　miles　along　it　was　the　next　English　outpost。　　From　this　direction　there　came　along　the　road　that　evening　a　glitter　and　clatter　of　light　cavalry；　in　which　even　the　simple　diarist　could　recognise　with　astonishment　the　general　with　his　staff。　　He　rode　the　great　white　horse　which　you　have　seen　so　often　in　illustrated　papers　and　Academy　pictures；　and　you　may　be　sure　that　the　salute　they　gave　him　was　not　merely　ceremonial。　　He；　at　least；　wasted　no　time　on　ceremony；　but；　springing　from　the　saddle　immediately；　mixed　with　the　group　of　officers；　and　fell　into　emphatic　though　confidential　speech。　　What　struck　our　friend　the　diarist　most　was　his　special　disposition　to　discuss　matters　with　Major　Murray；　but；　indeed；　such　a　selection；　so　long　as　it　was　not　marked；　was　in　no　way　unnatural。　　The　two　men　were　made　for　sympathy；　they　were　men　who　‘read　their　Bibles'；　they　were　both　the　old　Evangelical　type　of　officer。　　However　this　may　be；　it　is　certain　that　when　the　general　mounted　again　he　was　still　talking　earnestly　to　Murray；　and　that　as　he　walked　his　horse　slowly　down　the　road　towards　the　river；　the　tall　Ulsterman　still　walked　by　his　bridle　rein　in　earnest　debate。　　The　soldiers　watched　the　two　until　they　vanished　behind　a　clump　of　trees　where　the　road　turned　towards　the　river。　　The　colonel　had　gone　back　to　his　tent；　and　the　men　to　their　pickets；　the　man　with　the　diary　lingered　for　another　four　minutes；　and　saw　a　marvellous　sight。　　　　　〃The　great　white　horse　which　had　marched　slowly　down　the　road；　as　it　had　marched　in　so　many　processions；　flew　back；　galloping　up　the　road　towards　them　as　if　it　were　mad　to　win　a　race。　　At　first　they　thought　it　had　run　away　with　the　man　on　its　back；　but　they　soon　saw　that　the　general；　a　fine　rider；　was　himself　urging　it　to　full　speed。　　Horse　and　man　swept　up　to　them　like　a　whirlwind；　and　then；　reining　up　the　reeling　charger；　the　general　turned　on　them　a　face　like　flame；　and　called　for　the　colonel　like　the　trumpet　that　wakes　the　dead。　　　　　〃I　conceive　that　all　the　earthquake　events　of　that　catastrophe　tumbled　on　top　of　each　other　rather　like　lumber　in　the　minds　of　men　such　as　our　friend　with　the　diary。　　With　the　dazed　excitement　of　a　dream；　they　found　themselves　fallingliterally　falling　into　their　ranks；　and　learned　that　an　attack　was　to　be　led　at　once　across　the　river。　　The　general　and　the　major；　it　was　said；　had　found　out　something　at　the　bridge；　and　there　was　only　just　time　to　strike　for　life。　　The　major　had　gone　back　at　once　to　call　up　the　reserve　along　the　road　behind；　it　was　doubtful　if　even　with　that　prompt　appeal　help　could　reach　them　in　time。　　But　they　must　pass　the　stream　that　night；　and　seize　the　heights　by　morning。　　It　is　with　the　very　stir　and　throb　of　that　romantic　nocturnal　march　that　the　diary　suddenly　ends。〃　　　　　Father　Brown　had　mounted　ahead；　for　the　woodland　path　grew　smaller；　steeper；　and　more　twisted；　till　they　felt　as　if　they　were　ascending　a　winding　staircase。　　The　priest's　voice　came　from　above　out　of　the　darkness。　　　　　〃There　was　one　other　little　and　enormous　thing。　　When　the　general　urged　them　to　their　chivalric　charge　he　half　drew　his　sword　from　the　scabbard；　and　then；　as　if　ashamed　of　such　melodrama；　thrust　it　back　again。　　The　sword　again；　you　see。〃　　　　　A　half…light　broke　through　the　network　of　boughs　above　them；　flinging　the　ghost　of　a　net　about　their　feet；　for　they　were　mounting　again　to　the　faint　luminosity　of　the　naked　night。　Flambeau　felt　truth　all　round　him　as　an　atmosphere；　but　not　as　an　idea。　　He　answered　with　bewildered　brain：　〃Well；　what's　the　matter　with　the　sword？　　Officers　generally　have　swords；　don't　they？〃　　　　　〃They　are　not　often　mentioned　in　modern　war；〃　said　the　other　dispassionately；　〃but　in　this　affair　one　falls　over　the　blessed　sword　everywhere。〃　　　　　〃Well；　what　is　there　in　that？〃　growled　Flambeau；　〃it　was　a　twopence　coloured　sort　of　incident；　the　old　man's　blade　breaking　in　his　last　battle。　　Anyone　might　bet　the　papers　would　get　hold　of　it；　as　they　have。　　On　all　these　tombs　and　things　it's　shown　broken　at　the　point。　　I　hope　you　haven't　dragged　me　through　this　Polar　expedition　merely　because　two　men　with　an　eye　for　a　picture　saw　St。　Clare's　broken　sword。〃　　　　　〃No；〃　cried　Father　Brown；　with　a　sharp　voice　like　a　pistol　shot；　〃but　who　saw　his　unbroken　sword？〃　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　cried　the　other；　and　stood　still　under　the　stars。　　They　had　come　abruptly　out　of　the　grey　gates　of　the　wood。　　　　　〃I　say；　who　saw　his　unbroken　sword？〃　repeated　Father　Brown　obstinately。　　〃Not　the　writer　of　the　diary；　anyhow；　the　general　sheathed　it　in　time。〃　　　　　Flambeau　looked　about　him　in　the　moonlight；　as　a　man　struck　blind　might　look　in　the　sun；　and　his　friend　went　on；　for　the　first　time　with　eagerness：　　　　　〃Flambeau；〃　he　cried；　〃I　cannot　prove　it；　even　after　hunting　through　the　tombs。　　But　I　am　sure　of　it。　　Let　me　add　just　one　more　tiny　fact　that　tips　the　whole　thing　over。　　The　colonel；　by　a　strange　chance；　was　one　of　the　first　struck　by　a　bullet。　　He　was　struck　long　before　the　troops　came　to　close　quarters。　　But　he　saw　St。　Clare's　sword　broken。　　Why　was　it　broken？　　How　was　it　broken？　My　friend；　it　was　broken　before　the　battle。〃　　　　　〃Oh！〃　said　his　friend；　with　a　sort　of　forlorn　jocularity；　〃and　pray　where　is　the　other　piece？〃　　　　　〃I　can　tell　you；〃　said　the　priest　promptly。　　〃In　the　northeast　corner　of　the　cemetery　of　the　Protestant　Cathedral　at　Belfast。〃　　　　　〃Indeed？〃　inquired　the　other。　　〃Have　you　looked　for　it？〃　　　　　〃I　couldn't；〃　replied　Brown；　with　frank　regret。　　〃There's　a　great　marble　monument　on　top　of　it；　a　monument　to　the　heroic　Major　Murray；　who　fell　fighting　gloriously　at　the　famous　Battle　of　the　Black　River。〃　　　　　Flambeau　seemed　suddenly　galvanised　into　existence。　　〃You　mean；〃　he　cried　hoarsely；　〃that　General　St。　Clare　hated　Murray；　and　murdered　him　on　the　field　of　battle　because〃　　　　　〃You　are　still　full　of　good　and　pure　thoughts；〃　said　the　other。　　〃It　was　worse　than　that。〃　　　　　〃Well；〃　said　the　large　man；　〃my　stock　of　evil　imagination　is　used　up。〃　　　　　The　priest　seemed　really　doubtful　where　to　begin；　and　at　last　he　said　again：　　　　　〃Where　would　a　wise　man　hide　a　leaf？　　In　the　forest。〃　　　　　The　other　did　not　answer。　　　　　〃If　there　were　no　forest；　he　would　make　a　forest。　　And　if　he　wished　to　hide　a　dead　leaf；　he　would　make　a　dead　forest。〃　　　　　There　was　still　no　reply；　and　the　priest　added　still　more　mildly　and　quietly：　　　　　〃And　if　a　man　had　to　hide　a　dead　body；　he　would　make　a　field　of　dead　bodies　to　hide　it　in。〃　　　　　Flambeau　began　to　stamp　forward　with　an　intolerance　of　delay　in　time　or　space；　but　Father　Brown　went　on　as　if　he　were　continuing　the　last　sentence：　　　　　〃Sir　Arthur　St。　Clare；　as　I　have　already　said；　was　a　man　who　read　his　Bible。　　That　was　what　was　the　matter　with　him。　　When　will　people　understand　that　it　is　useless　for　a　man　to　read　his　Bible　unless　he　also　reads　everybody　else's　Bible？　　A　printer　reads　a　Bible　for　misprints。　　A　Mormon　reads　his　Bible；　and　finds　polygamy；　a　Christian　Scientist　reads　his；　and　finds　we　have　no　arms　and　legs。　　St。　Clare　was　an　old　Anglo…Indian　Protestant　soldier。　　Now；　just　think　what　that　might　mean；　and；　for　Heaven's　sake；　don't　cant　about　it。　　It　might　mean　a　man　physically　formidable　living　under　a　tropic　sun　in　an　Oriental　society；　and　soaking　himself　without　sense　or　guidance　in　an　Oriental　Book。　　Of　course；　he　read　the　Old　Testament　rather　than　the　New。　　Of　course；　he　found　in　the　Old　Testament　anything　that　he　wantedlust；　tyranny；　treason。　Oh；　I　dare　say　he　was　honest；　as　you　call　it。　　But　what　is　the　good　of　a　man　being　honest　in　his　worship　of　dishonesty？　　　　　〃In　each　of　the　hot　and　secret　countries　to　which　the　man　went　he　kept　a　harem；　he　tortured　witnesses；　he　amassed　shameful　gold；　but　certainly　he　would　have　said　with　steady　eyes　that　he　did　it　to　the　glory　o