the innocence of father brown-第15章

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le　to　the　special　season　or　landscapes　in　which　I　found　myself；　choosing　this　or　that　terrace　or　garden　for　a　catastrophe；　as　if　for　a　statuary　group。　　Thus　squires　should　be　swindled　in　long　rooms　panelled　with　oak；　while　Jews；　on　the　other　hand；　should　rather　find　themselves　unexpectedly　penniless　among　the　lights　and　screens　of　the　Cafe　Riche。　　Thus；　in　England；　if　I　wished　to　relieve　a　dean　of　his　riches　（which　is　not　so　easy　as　you　might　suppose）；　I　wished　to　frame　him；　if　I　make　myself　clear；　in　the　green　lawns　and　grey　towers　of　some　cathedral　town。　　Similarly；　in　France；　when　I　had　got　money　out　of　a　rich　and　wicked　peasant　（which　is　almost　impossible）；　it　gratified　me　to　get　his　indignant　head　relieved　against　a　grey　line　of　clipped　poplars；　and　those　solemn　plains　of　Gaul　over　which　broods　the　mighty　spirit　of　Millet。　　　　　〃Well；　my　last　crime　was　a　Christmas　crime；　a　cheery；　cosy；　English　middle…class　crime；　a　crime　of　Charles　Dickens。　　I　did　it　in　a　good　old　middle…class　house　near　Putney；　a　house　with　a　crescent　of　carriage　drive；　a　house　with　a　stable　by　the　side　of　it；　a　house　with　the　name　on　the　two　outer　gates；　a　house　with　a　monkey　tree。　　Enough；　you　know　the　species。　　I　really　think　my　imitation　of　Dickens's　style　was　dexterous　and　literary。　　It　seems　almost　a　pity　I　repented　the　same　evening。〃　　　　　Flambeau　would　then　proceed　to　tell　the　story　from　the　inside；　and　even　from　the　inside　it　was　odd。　　Seen　from　the　outside　it　was　perfectly　incomprehensible；　and　it　is　from　the　outside　that　the　stranger　must　study　it。　　From　this　standpoint　the　drama　may　be　said　to　have　begun　when　the　front　doors　of　the　house　with　the　stable　opened　on　the　garden　with　the　monkey　tree；　and　a　young　girl　came　out　with　bread　to　feed　the　birds　on　the　afternoon　of　Boxing　Day。　　She　had　a　pretty　face；　with　brave　brown　eyes；　but　her　figure　was　beyond　conjecture；　for　she　was　so　wrapped　up　in　brown　furs　that　it　was　hard　to　say　which　was　hair　and　which　was　fur。　　But　for　the　attractive　face　she　might　have　been　a　small　toddling　bear。　　　　　The　winter　afternoon　was　reddening　towards　evening；　and　already　a　ruby　light　was　rolled　over　the　bloomless　beds；　filling　them；　as　it　were；　with　the　ghosts　of　the　dead　roses。　　On　one　side　of　the　house　stood　the　stable；　on　the　other　an　alley　or　cloister　of　laurels　led　to　the　larger　garden　behind。　　The　young　lady；　having　scattered　bread　for　the　birds　（for　the　fourth　or　fifth　time　that　day；　because　the　dog　ate　it）；　passed　unobutrusively　down　the　lane　of　laurels　and　into　a　glimmering　plantation　of　evergreens　behind。　Here　she　gave　an　exclamation　of　wonder；　real　or　ritual；　and　looking　up　at　the　high　garden　wall　above　her；　beheld　it　fantastically　bestridden　by　a　somewhat　fantastic　figure。　　　　　〃Oh；　don't　jump；　Mr。　Crook；〃　she　called　out　in　some　alarm；　〃it's　much　too　high。〃　　　　　The　individual　riding　the　party　wall　like　an　aerial　horse　was　a　tall；　angular　young　man；　with　dark　hair　sticking　up　like　a　hair　brush；　intelligent　and　even　distinguished　lineaments；　but　a　sallow　and　almost　alien　complexion。　　This　showed　the　more　plainly　because　he　wore　an　aggressive　red　tie；　the　only　part　of　his　costume　of　which　he　seemed　to　take　any　care。　　Perhaps　it　was　a　symbol。　　He　took　no　notice　of　the　girl's　alarmed　adjuration；　but　leapt　like　a　grasshopper　to　the　ground　beside　her；　where　he　might　very　well　have　broken　his　legs。　　　　　〃I　think　I　was　meant　to　be　a　burglar；〃　he　said　placidly；　〃and　I　have　no　doubt　I　should　have　been　if　I　hadn't　happened　to　be　born　in　that　nice　house　next　door。　　I　can't　see　any　harm　in　it；　anyhow。〃　　　　　〃How　can　you　say　such　things！〃　she　remonstrated。　　　　　〃Well；〃　said　the　young　man；　〃if　you're　born　on　the　wrong　side　of　the　wall；　I　can't　see　that　it's　wrong　to　climb　over　it。〃　　　　　〃I　never　know　what　you　will　say　or　do　next；〃　she　said。　　　　　〃I　don't　often　know　myself；〃　replied　Mr。　Crook；　〃but　then　I　am　on　the　right　side　of　the　wall　now。〃　　　　　〃And　which　is　the　right　side　of　the　wall？〃　asked　the　young　lady；　smiling。　　　　　〃Whichever　side　you　are　on；〃　said　the　young　man　named　Crook。　　　　　As　they　went　together　through　the　laurels　towards　the　front　garden　a　motor　horn　sounded　thrice；　coming　nearer　and　nearer；　and　a　car　of　splendid　speed；　great　elegance；　and　a　pale　green　colour　swept　up　to　the　front　doors　like　a　bird　and　stood　throbbing。　　　　　〃Hullo；　hullo！〃　said　the　young　man　with　the　red　tie；　〃here's　somebody　born　on　the　right　side；　anyhow。　　I　didn't　know；　Miss　Adams；　that　your　Santa　Claus　was　so　modern　as　this。〃　　　　　〃Oh；　that's　my　godfather；　Sir　Leopold　Fischer。　　He　always　comes　on　Boxing　Day。〃　　　　　Then；　after　an　innocent　pause；　which　unconsciously　betrayed　some　lack　of　enthusiasm；　Ruby　Adams　added：　　　　　〃He　is　very　kind。〃　　　　　John　Crook；　journalist；　had　heard　of　that　eminent　City　magnate；　and　it　was　not　his　fault　if　the　City　magnate　had　not　heard　of　him；　for　in　certain　articles　in　The　Clarion　or　The　New　Age　Sir　Leopold　had　been　dealt　with　austerely。　　But　he　said　nothing　and　grimly　watched　the　unloading　of　the　motor…car；　which　was　rather　a　long　process。　　A　large；　neat　chauffeur　in　green　got　out　from　the　front；　and　a　small；　neat　manservant　in　grey　got　out　from　the　back；　and　between　them　they　deposited　Sir　Leopold　on　the　doorstep　and　began　to　unpack　him；　like　some　very　carefully　protected　parcel。　　Rugs　enough　to　stock　a　bazaar；　furs　of　all　the　beasts　of　the　forest；　and　scarves　of　all　the　colours　of　the　rainbow　were　unwrapped　one　by　one；　till　they　revealed　something　resembling　the　human　form；　the　form　of　a　friendly；　but　foreign…looking　old　gentleman；　with　a　grey　goat…like　beard　and　a　beaming　smile；　who　rubbed　his　big　fur　gloves　together。　　　　　Long　before　this　revelation　was　complete　the　two　big　doors　of　the　porch　had　opened　in　the　middle；　and　Colonel　Adams　（father　of　the　furry　young　lady）　had　come　out　himself　to　invite　his　eminent　guest　inside。　　He　was　a　tall；　sunburnt；　and　very　silent　man；　who　wore　a　red　smoking…cap　like　a　fez；　making　him　look　like　one　of　the　English　Sirdars　or　Pashas　in　Egypt。　　With　him　was　his　brother…in…law；　lately　come　from　Canada；　a　big　and　rather　boisterous　young　gentleman…farmer；　with　a　yellow　beard；　by　name　James　Blount。　　With　him　also　was　the　more　insignificant　figure　of　the　priest　from　the　neighbouring　Roman　Church；　for　the　colonel's　late　wife　had　been　a　Catholic；　and　the　children；　as　is　common　in　such　cases；　had　been　trained　to　follow　her。　　Everything　seemed　undistinguished　about　the　priest；　even　down　to　his　name；　which　was　Brown；　yet　the　colonel　had　always　found　something　companionable　about　him；　and　frequently　asked　him　to　such　family　gatherings。　　　　　In　the　large　entrance　hall　of　the　house　there　was　ample　room　even　for　Sir　Leopold　and　the　removal　of　his　wraps。　　Porch　and　vestibule；　indeed；　were　unduly　large　in　proportion　to　the　house；　and　formed；　as　it　were；　a　big　room　with　the　front　door　at　one　end；　and　the　bottom　of　the　staircase　at　the　other。　　In　front　of　the　large　hall　fire；　over　which　hung　the　colonel's　sword；　the　process　was　completed　and　the　company；　including　the　saturnine　Crook；　presented　to　Sir　Leopold　Fischer。　　That　venerable　financier；　however；　still　seemed　struggling　with　portions　of　his　well…lined　attire；　and　at　length　produced　from　a　very　interior　tail…coat　pocket；　a　black　oval　case　which　he　radiantly　explained　to　be　his　Christmas　present　for　his　god…daughter。　　With　an　unaffected　vain…glory　that　had　something　disarming　about　it　he　held　out　the　case　before　them　all；　it　flew　open　at　a　touch　and　half…blinded　them。　　It　was　just　as　if　a　crystal　fountain　had　spurted　in　their　eyes。　　In　a　nest　of　orange　velvet　lay　like　three　eggs；　three　white　and　vivid　diamonds　that　seemed　to　set　the　very　air　on　fire　all　round　them。　　Fischer　stood　beaming　benevolently　and　drinking　deep　of　the　astonishment　and　ecstasy　of　the　girl；　the　grim　admiration　and　gruff　thanks　of　the　colonel；　the　wonder　of　the　whole　group。　　　　　〃I'll　put　'em　back　now；　my　dear；〃　said　Fischer；　returning　the　case　to　the　tails　of　his　coat。　　〃I　had　to　be　careful　of　'em　coming　down。　　They're　the　three　great　African　diamonds　called　‘The　Flying　Stars；'　because　they've　been　stolen　so　often。　　All　the　big　criminals　are　on　the　track；　but　even　the　rough　men　about　in　the　streets　and　hotels　could　hardly　have　kept　their　hands　off　them。　I　might　have　lost　them　on　the　road　here。　　It　was　quite　possible。〃　　　　　〃Quite　natural；　I　should　say；〃　growled　the　man　in　the　red　tie。　〃I　shouldn't　blame　'em　if　they　had　taken　'em。　　When　they　ask　for　bread；　and　you　don't　even　give　them　a　stone；　I　think　they　might　take　the　stone　for　themselves。〃　　　　　〃I　won't　have　you　talking　like　that；〃　cried　the　girl；　who　was　in　a　curious　glow。　　〃You've　only　talked　like　that　since　you　became　a　horrid　what's…his…name。　　You　know　what　I　mean。　　What　do　you　call　a　man　who　wants　to　embrace　the　chimney…sweep？〃　　　　　〃A　saint；〃　said　Father　Brown。　　　　　〃I　think；〃　said　Sir　Leopold；　with　a　supercilious　smile；　〃that　Ruby　means　a　Socialist。〃　　　　　〃A　radical　does　not　mean　a　man　who　lives　on　radishes；〃　remarked　Crook；　with　some　impatience；　and　a　Conservative　does　not　mean　a　man　who　preserves　jam。　　Neither；　I　assure　you；　does　a　Socialist　mean　a　man　who　desires　a　social　evening　with　the　chimney…sweep。　　A　Socialist　means　a　man　who　wants　all　the　chimneys　swept　and　all　the　chimney…sweeps　paid　for　it。〃　　　　　〃But　who　won't　allow　you