the innocence of father brown-第16章

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o　wants　all　the　chimneys　swept　and　all　the　chimney…sweeps　paid　for　it。〃　　　　　〃But　who　won't　allow　you；〃　put　in　the　priest　in　a　low　voice；　〃to　own　your　own　soot。〃　　　　　Crook　looked　at　him　with　an　eye　of　interest　and　even　respect。　〃Does　one　want　to　own　soot？〃　he　asked。　　　　　〃One　might；〃　answered　Brown；　with　speculation　in　his　eye。　〃I've　heard　that　gardeners　use　it。　　And　I　once　made　six　children　happy　at　Christmas　when　the　conjuror　didn't　come；　entirely　with　sootapplied　externally。〃　　　　　〃Oh；　splendid；〃　cried　Ruby。　　〃Oh；　I　wish　you'd　do　it　to　this　company。〃　　　　　The　boisterous　Canadian；　Mr。　Blount；　was　lifting　his　loud　voice　in　applause；　and　the　astonished　financier　his　（in　some　considerable　deprecation）；　when　a　knock　sounded　at　the　double　front　doors。　　The　priest　opened　them；　and　they　showed　again　the　front　garden　of　evergreens；　monkey…tree　and　all；　now　gathering　gloom　against　a　gorgeous　violet　sunset。　　The　scene　thus　framed　was　so　coloured　and　quaint；　like　a　back　scene　in　a　play；　that　they　forgot　a　moment　the　insignificant　figure　standing　in　the　door。　　He　was　dusty…looking　and　in　a　frayed　coat；　evidently　a　common　messenger。　　〃Any　of　you　gentlemen　Mr。　Blount？〃　he　asked；　and　held　forward　a　letter　doubtfully。　　Mr。　Blount　started；　and　stopped　in　his　shout　of　assent。　　Ripping　up　the　envelope　with　evident　astonishment　he　read　it；　his　face　clouded　a　little；　and　then　cleared；　and　he　turned　to　his　brother…in…law　and　host。　　　　　〃I'm　sick　at　being　such　a　nuisance；　colonel；〃　he　said；　with　the　cheery　colonial　conventions；　〃but　would　it　upset　you　if　an　old　acquaintance　called　on　me　here　tonight　on　business？　　In　point　of　fact　it's　Florian；　that　famous　French　acrobat　and　comic　actor；　I　knew　him　years　ago　out　West　（he　was　a　French…Canadian　by　birth）；　and　he　seems　to　have　business　for　me；　though　I　hardly　guess　what。〃　　　　　〃Of　course；　of　course；〃　replied　the　colonel　carelessly〃My　dear　chap；　any　friend　of　yours。　　No　doubt　he　will　prove　an　acquisition。〃　　　　　〃He'll　black　his　face；　if　that's　what　you　mean；〃　cried　Blount；　laughing。　　〃I　don't　doubt　he'd　black　everyone　else's　eyes。　　I　don't　care；　I'm　not　refined。　　I　like　the　jolly　old　pantomime　where　a　man　sits　on　his　top　hat。〃　　　　　〃Not　on　mine；　please；〃　said　Sir　Leopold　Fischer；　with　dignity。　　　　　〃Well；　well；〃　observed　Crook；　airily；　〃don't　let's　quarrel。　There　are　lower　jokes　than　sitting　on　a　top　hat。〃　　　　　Dislike　of　the　red…tied　youth；　born　of　his　predatory　opinions　and　evident　intimacy　with　the　pretty　godchild；　led　Fischer　to　say；　in　his　most　sarcastic；　magisterial　manner：　〃No　doubt　you　have　found　something　much　lower　than　sitting　on　a　top　hat。　　What　is　it；　pray？〃　　　　　〃Letting　a　top　hat　sit　on　you；　for　instance；〃　said　the　Socialist。　　　　　〃Now；　now；　now；〃　cried　the　Canadian　farmer　with　his　barbarian　benevolence；　〃don't　let's　spoil　a　jolly　evening。　　What　I　say　is；　let's　do　something　for　the　company　tonight。　　Not　blacking　faces　or　sitting　on　hats；　if　you　don't　like　thosebut　something　of　the　sort。　　Why　couldn't　we　have　a　proper　old　English　pantomime　clown；　columbine；　and　so　on。　　I　saw　one　when　I　left　England　at　twelve　years　old；　and　it's　blazed　in　my　brain　like　a　bonfire　ever　since。　　I　came　back　to　the　old　country　only　last　year；　and　I　find　the　thing's　extinct。　　Nothing　but　a　lot　of　snivelling　fairy　plays。　I　want　a　hot　poker　and　a　policeman　made　into　sausages；　and　they　give　me　princesses　moralising　by　moonlight；　Blue　Birds；　or　something。　　Blue　Beard's　more　in　my　line；　and　him　I　like　best　when　he　turned　into　the　pantaloon。〃　　　　　〃I'm　all　for　making　a　policeman　into　sausages；〃　said　John　Crook。　　〃It's　a　better　definition　of　Socialism　than　some　recently　given。　　But　surely　the　get…up　would　be　too　big　a　business。〃　　　　　〃Not　a　scrap；〃　cried　Blount；　quite　carried　away。　　〃A　harlequinade's　the　quickest　thing　we　can　do；　for　two　reasons。　First；　one　can　gag　to　any　degree；　and；　second；　all　the　objects　are　household　thingstables　and　towel…horses　and　washing　baskets；　and　things　like　that。〃　　　　　〃That's　true；〃　admitted　Crook；　nodding　eagerly　and　walking　about。　　〃But　I'm　afraid　I　can't　have　my　policeman's　uniform？　Haven't　killed　a　policeman　lately。〃　　　　　Blount　frowned　thoughtfully　a　space；　and　then　smote　his　thigh。　〃Yes；　we　can！〃　he　cried。　　〃I've　got　Florian's　address　here；　and　he　knows　every　costumier　in　London。　　I'll　phone　him　to　bring　a　police　dress　when　he　comes。〃　　And　he　went　bounding　away　to　the　telephone。　　　　　〃Oh；　it's　glorious；　godfather；〃　cried　Ruby；　almost　dancing。　〃I'll　be　columbine　and　you　shall　be　pantaloon。〃　　　　　The　millionaire　held　himself　stiff　with　a　sort　of　heathen　solemnity。　　〃I　think；　my　dear；〃　he　said；　〃you　must　get　someone　else　for　pantaloon。〃　　　　　〃I　will　be　pantaloon；　if　you　like；〃　said　Colonel　Adams；　taking　his　cigar　out　of　his　mouth；　and　speaking　for　the　first　and　last　time。　　　　　〃You　ought　to　have　a　statue；〃　cried　the　Canadian；　as　he　came　back；　radiant；　from　the　telephone。　　〃There；　we　are　all　fitted。　Mr。　Crook　shall　be　clown；　he's　a　journalist　and　knows　all　the　oldest　jokes。　　I　can　be　harlequin；　that　only　wants　long　legs　and　jumping　about。　　My　friend　Florian　'phones　he's　bringing　the　police　costume；　he's　changing　on　the　way。　　We　can　act　it　in　this　very　hall；　the　audience　sitting　on　those　broad　stairs　opposite；　one　row　above　another。　　These　front　doors　can　be　the　back　scene；　either　open　or　shut。　　Shut；　you　see　an　English　interior。　　Open；　a　moonlit　garden。　　It　all　goes　by　magic。〃　　And　snatching　a　chance　piece　of　billiard　chalk　from　his　pocket；　he　ran　it　across　the　hall　floor；　half…way　between　the　front　door　and　the　staircase；　to　mark　the　line　of　the　footlights。　　　　　How　even　such　a　banquet　of　bosh　was　got　ready　in　the　time　remained　a　riddle。　　But　they　went　at　it　with　that　mixture　of　recklessness　and　industry　that　lives　when　youth　is　in　a　house；　and　youth　was　in　that　house　that　night；　though　not　all　may　have　isolated　the　two　faces　and　hearts　from　which　it　flamed。　　As　always　happens；　the　invention　grew　wilder　and　wilder　through　the　very　tameness　of　the　bourgeois　conventions　from　which　it　had　to　create。　The　columbine　looked　charming　in　an　outstanding　skirt　that　strangely　resembled　the　large　lamp…shade　in　the　drawing…room。　　The　clown　and　pantaloon　made　themselves　white　with　flour　from　the　cook；　and　red　with　rouge　from　some　other　domestic；　who　remained　（like　all　true　Christian　benefactors）　anonymous。　　The　harlequin；　already　clad　in　silver　paper　out　of　cigar　boxes；　was；　with　difficulty；　prevented　from　smashing　the　old　Victorian　lustre　chandeliers；　that　he　might　cover　himself　with　resplendent　crystals。　　In　fact　he　would　certainly　have　done　so；　had　not　Ruby　unearthed　some　old　pantomime　paste　jewels　she　had　worn　at　a　fancy　dress　party　as　the　Queen　of　Diamonds。　　Indeed；　her　uncle；　James　Blount；　was　getting　almost　out　of　hand　in　his　excitement；　he　was　like　a　schoolboy。　　He　put　a　paper　donkey's　head　unexpectedly　on　Father　Brown；　who　bore　it　patiently；　and　even　found　some　private　manner　of　moving　his　ears。　　He　even　essayed　to　put　the　paper　donkey's　tail　to　the　coat…tails　of　Sir　Leopold　Fischer。　　This；　however；　was　frowned　down。　　〃Uncle　is　too　absurd；〃　cried　Ruby　to　Crook；　round　whose　shoulders　she　had　seriously　placed　a　string　of　sausages。　　〃Why　is　he　so　wild？〃　　　　　〃He　is　harlequin　to　your　columbine；〃　said　Crook。　　〃I　am　only　the　clown　who　makes　the　old　jokes。〃　　　　　〃I　wish　you　were　the　harlequin；〃　she　said；　and　left　the　string　of　sausages　swinging。　　　　　Father　Brown；　though　he　knew　every　detail　done　behind　the　scenes；　and　had　even　evoked　applause　by　his　transformation　of　a　pillow　into　a　pantomime　baby；　went　round　to　the　front　and　sat　among　the　audience　with　all　the　solemn　expectation　of　a　child　at　his　first　matinee。　　The　spectators　were　few；　relations；　one　or　two　local　friends；　and　the　servants；　Sir　Leopold　sat　in　the　front　seat；　his　full　and　still　fur…collared　figure　largely　obscuring　the　view　of　the　little　cleric　behind　him；　but　it　has　never　been　settled　by　artistic　authorities　whether　the　cleric　lost　much。　　The　pantomime　was　utterly　chaotic；　yet　not　contemptible；　there　ran　through　it　a　rage　of　improvisation　which　came　chiefly　from　Crook　the　clown。　　Commonly　he　was　a　clever　man；　and　he　was　inspired　tonight　with　a　wild　omniscience；　a　folly　wiser　than　the　world；　that　which　comes　to　a　young　man　who　has　seen　for　an　instant　a　particular　expression　on　a　particular　face。　　He　was　supposed　to　be　the　clown；　but　he　was　really　almost　everything　else；　the　author　（so　far　as　there　was　an　author）；　the　prompter；　the　scene…painter；　the　scene…shifter；　and；　above　all；　the　orchestra。　　At　abrupt　intervals　in　the　outrageous　performance　he　would　hurl　himself　in　full　costume　at　the　piano　and　bang　out　some　popular　music　equally　absurd　and　appropriate。　　　　　The　climax　　of　this；　as　of　all　else；　was　the　moment　when　the　two　front　doors　at　the　back　of　the　scene　flew　open；　showing　the　lovely　moonlit　garden；　but　showing　more　prominently　the　famous　professional　guest；　the　great　Florian；　dressed　up　as　a　policeman。　The　clown　at　the　piano　played　the　constabulary　chorus　in　the　〃Pirates　of　Penzance；〃　but　it　was　drowned　in　the　deafening　applause；　for　every　gesture　of　the　great　comic　actor　was　an　admirable　though　restrained　version　of　the　carriage　and　manner　of　the　police。　　The　harlequin　leapt　upon　him　and　hit　him　over　the　helmet；　the　pianist　playing　〃Where　did　you　get　that