the wisdom of father brown-第2部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ened；　Todhunter　is　always　found　alone。　　There　are　tales　of　a　mysterious　tall　man　in　a　silk　hat；　who　once　came　out　of　the　sea…mists　and　apparently　out　of　the　sea；　stepping　softly　across　the　sandy　fields　and　through　the　small　back　garden　at　twilight；　till　he　was　heard　talking　to　the　lodger　at　his　open　window。　　The　colloquy　seemed　to　end　in　a　quarrel。　　Todhunter　dashed　down　his　window　with　violence；　and　the　man　in　the　high　hat　melted　into　the　sea…fog　again。　　This　story　is　told　by　the　family　with　the　fiercest　mystification；　but　I　really　think　Mrs　MacNab　prefers　her　own　original　tale：　　that　the　Other　Man　（or　whatever　it　is）　crawls　out　every　night　from　the　big　box　in　the　corner；　which　is　kept　locked　all　day。　　You　see；　therefore；　how　this　sealed　door　of　Todhunter's　is　treated　as　the　gate　of　all　the　fancies　and　monstrosities　of　the　‘Thousand　and　One　Nights'。　　And　yet　there　is　the　little　fellow　in　his　respectable　black　jacket；　as　punctual　and　innocent　as　a　parlour　clock。　　He　pays　his　rent　to　the　tick；　he　is　practically　a　teetotaller；　he　is　tirelessly　kind　with　the　younger　children；　and　can　keep　them　amused　for　a　day　on　end；　and；　last　and　most　urgent　of　all；　he　has　made　himself　equally　popular　with　the　eldest　daughter；　who　is　ready　to　go　to　church　with　him　tomorrow。〃

　　　　　A　man　warmly　concerned　with　any　large　theories　has　always　a　relish　for　applying　them　to　any　triviality。　　The　great　specialist　having　condescended　to　the　priest's　simplicity；　condescended　expansively。　　He　settled　himself　with　comfort　in　his　arm…chair　and　began　to　talk　in　the　tone　of　a　somewhat　absent…minded　lecturer：

　　　　　〃Even　in　a　minute　instance；　it　is　best　to　look　first　to　the　main　tendencies　of　Nature。　　A　particular　flower　may　not　be　dead　in　early　winter；　but　the　flowers　are　dying；　a　particular　pebble　may　never　be　wetted　with　the　tide；　but　the　tide　is　coming　in。　　To　the　scientific　eye　all　human　history　is　a　series　of　collective　movements；　destructions　or　migrations；　like　the　massacre　of　flies　in　winter　or　the　return　of　birds　in　spring。　　Now　the　root　fact　in　all　history　is　Race。　　Race　produces　religion；　Race　produces　legal　and　ethical　wars。　　There　is　no　stronger　case　than　that　of　the　wild；　unworldly　and　perishing　stock　which　we　commonly　call　the　Celts；　of　whom　your　friends　the　MacNabs　are　specimens。　　Small；　swarthy；　and　of　this　dreamy　and　drifting　blood；　they　accept　easily　the　superstitious　explanation　of　any　incidents；　just　as　they　still　accept　（you　will　excuse　me　for　saying）　that　superstitious　explanation　of　all　incidents　which　you　and　your　Church　represent。　　It　is　not　remarkable　that　such　people；　with　the　sea　moaning　behind　them　and　the　Church　（excuse　me　again）　droning　in　front　of　them；　should　put　fantastic　features　into　what　are　probably　plain　events。　　You；　with　your　small　parochial　responsibilities；　see　only　this　particular　Mrs　MacNab；　terrified　with　this　particular　tale　of　two　voices　and　a　tall　man　out　of　the　sea。　　But　the　man　with　the　scientific　imagination　sees；　as　it　were；　the　whole　clans　of　MacNab　scattered　over　the　whole　world；　in　its　ultimate　average　as　uniform　as　a　tribe　of　birds。　　He　sees　thousands　of　Mrs　MacNabs；　in　thousands　of　houses；　dropping　their　little　drop　of　morbidity　in　the　tea…cups　of　their　friends；　he　sees〃

　　　　　Before　the　scientist　could　conclude　his　sentence；　another　and　more　impatient　summons　sounded　from　without；　someone　with　swishing　skirts　was　marshalled　hurriedly　down　the　corridor；　and　the　door　opened　on　a　young　girl；　decently　dressed　but　disordered　and　red…hot　with　haste。　　She　had　sea…blown　blonde　hair；　and　would　have　been　entirely　beautiful　if　her　cheek…bones　had　not　been；　in　the　Scotch　manner；　a　little　high　in　relief　as　well　as　in　colour。　　Her　apology　was　almost　as　abrupt　as　a　command。

　　　　　〃I'm　sorry　to　interrupt　you；　sir；〃　she　said；　〃but　I　had　to　follow　Father　Brown　at　once；　it's　nothing　less　than　life　or　death。〃

　　　　　Father　Brown　began　to　get　to　his　feet　in　some　disorder。　　〃Why；　what　has　happened；　Maggie？〃　he　said。

　　　　　〃James　has　been　murdered；　for　all　I　can　make　out；〃　answered　the　girl；　still　breathing　hard　from　her　rush。　　〃That　man　Glass　has　been　with　him　again；　I　heard　them　talking　through　the　door　quite　plain。　　Two　separate　voices：　　for　James　speaks　low；　with　a　burr；　and　the　other　voice　was　high　and　quavery。〃

　　　　　〃That　man　Glass？〃　repeated　the　priest　in　some　perplexity。

　　　　　〃I　know　his　name　is　Glass；〃　answered　the　girl；　in　great　impatience。　　〃I　heard　it　through　the　door。　　They　were　quarrellingabout　money；　I　thinkfor　I　heard　James　say　again　and　again；　‘That's　right；　Mr　Glass；'　or　‘No；　Mr　Glass；'　and　then；　‘Two　or　three；　Mr　Glass。'　　But　we're　talking　too　much；　you　must　come　at　once；　and　there　may　be　time　yet。〃

　　　　　〃But　time　for　what？〃　asked　Dr　Hood；　who　had　been　studying　the　young　lady　with　marked　interest。　　〃What　is　there　about　Mr　Glass　and　his　money　troubles　that　should　impel　such　urgency？〃

　　　　　〃I　tried　to　break　down　the　door　and　couldn't；〃　answered　the　girl　shortly；　〃Then　I　ran　to　the　back…yard；　and　managed　to　climb　on　to　the　window…sill　that　looks　into　the　room。　　It　was　an　dim；　and　seemed　to　be　empty；　but　I　swear　I　saw　James　lying　huddled　up　in　a　corner；　as　if　he　were　drugged　or　strangled。〃

　　　　　〃This　is　very　serious；〃　said　Father　Brown；　gathering　his　errant　hat　and　umbrella　and　standing　up；　〃in　point　of　fact　I　was　just　putting　your　case　before　this　gentleman；　and　his　view〃

　　　　　〃Has　been　largely　altered；〃　said　the　scientist　gravely。　　〃I　do　not　think　this　young　lady　is　so　Celtic　as　I　had　supposed。　　As　I　have　nothing　else　to　do；　I　will　put　on　my　hat　and　stroll　down　town　with　you。〃

　　　　　In　a　few　minutes　all　three　were　approaching　the　dreary　tail　of　the　MacNabs'　street：　　the　girl　with　the　stern　and　breathless　stride　of　the　mountaineer；　the　criminologist　with　a　lounging　grace　（which　was　not　without　a　certain　leopard…like　swiftness）；　and　the　priest　at　an　energetic　trot　entirely　devoid　of　distinction。　　The　aspect　of　this　edge　of　the　town　was　not　entirely　without　justification　for　the　doctor's　hints　about　desolate　moods　and　environments。　　The　scattered　houses　stood　farther　and　farther　apart　in　a　broken　string　along　the　seashore；　the　afternoon　was　closing　with　a　premature　and　partly　lurid　twilight；　the　sea　was　of　an　inky　purple　and　murmuring　ominously。　　In　the　scrappy　back　garden　of　the　MacNabs　which　ran　down　towards　the　sand；　two　black；　barren…looking　trees　stood　up　like　demon　hands　held　up　in　astonishment；　and　as　Mrs　MacNab　ran　down　the　street　to　meet　them　with　lean　hands　similarly　spread；　and　her　fierce　face　in　shadow；　she　was　a　little　like　a　demon　herself。　　The　doctor　and　the　priest　made　scant　reply　to　her　shrill　reiterations　of　her　daughter's　story；　with　more　disturbing　details　of　her　own；　to　the　divided　vows　of　vengeance　against　Mr　Glass　for　murdering；　and　against　Mr　Todhunter　for　being　murdered；　or　against　the　latter　for　having　dared　to　want　to　marry　her　daughter；　and　for　not　having　lived　to　do　it。　　They　passed　through　the　narrow　passage　in　the　front　of　the　house　until　they　came　to　the　lodger's　door　at　the　back；　and　there　Dr　Hood；　with　the　trick　of　an　old　detective；　put　his　shoulder　sharply　to　the　panel　and　burst　in　the　door。

　　　　　It　opened　on　a　scene　of　silent　catastrophe。　　No　one　seeing　it；　even　for　a　flash；　could　doubt　that　the　room　had　been　the　theatre　of　some　thrilling　collision　between　two；　or　perhaps　more；　persons。　　Playing…cards　lay　littered　across　the　table　or　fluttered　about　the　floor　as　if　a　game　had　been　interrupted。　　Two　wine　glasses　stood　ready　for　wine　on　a　side…table；　but　a　third　lay　smashed　in　a　star　of　crystal　upon　the　carpet。　　A　few　feet　from　it　lay　what　looked　like　a　long　knife　or　short　sword；　straight；　but　with　an　ornamental　and　pictured　handle；　its　dull　blade　just　caught　a　grey　glint　from　the　dreary　window　behind；　which　showed　the　black　trees　against　the　leaden　level　of　the　sea。　　Towards　the　opposite　corner　of　the　room　was　rolled　a　gentleman's　silk　top　hat；　as　if　it　had　just　been　knocked　off　his　head；　so　much　so；　indeed；　that　one　almost　looked　to　see　it　still　rolling。　　And　in　the　corner　behind　it；　thrown　like　a　sack　of　potatoes；　but　corded　like　a　railway　trunk；　lay　Mr　James　Todhunter；　with　a　scarf　across　his　mouth；　and　six　or　seven　ropes　knotted　round　his　elbows　and　ankles。　　His　brown　eyes　were　alive　and　shifted　alertly。

　　　　　Dr　Orion　Hood　paused　for　one　instant　on　the　doormat　and　drank　in　the　whole　scene　of　voiceless　violence。　　Then　he　stepped　swiftly　across　the　carpet；　picked　up　the　tall　silk　hat；　and　gravely　put　it　upon　the　head　of　the　yet　pinioned　Todhunter。　　It　was　so　much　too　large　for　him　that　it　almost　slipped　down　on　to　his　shoulders。

　　　　　〃Mr　Glass's　hat；〃　said　the　doctor；　returning　with　it　and　peering　into　the　inside　with　a　pocket　lens。　　〃How　to　explain　the　absence　of　Mr　Glass　and　the　presence　of　Mr　Glass's　hat？　　For　Mr　Glass　is　not　a　careless　man　with　his　clothes。　　That　hat　is　of　a　stylish　shape　and　systematically　brushed　and　burnished；　though　not　very　new。　　An　old　dandy；　I　should　think。〃

　　　　　〃But；　good　heavens！〃　called　out　Miss　MacNab；　〃aren't　you　going　to　untie　the　man　first？〃

　　　　　〃I　say　‘old'　with　intention；　though　not　with　certainty〃　continued　the　expositor；　〃my　reason　for　it　might　seem　a　little　far…fetched。　　The　hair　of　human　beings　fal