the innocence of father brown-第32章

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at　the　once…celebrated　Saradine　had　spent　his　last　few　years　in　almost　ceaseless　travel；　but　he　had　not　guessed　that　the　travels　were　so　disreputable　or　so　amusing。　　　　　Indeed；　with　all　his　dignity　of　a　man　of　the　world；　Prince　Saradine　radiated　to　such　sensitive　observers　as　the　priest；　a　certain　atmosphere　of　the　restless　and　even　the　unreliable。　　His　face　was　fastidious；　but　his　eye　was　wild；　he　had　little　nervous　tricks；　like　a　man　shaken　by　drink　or　drugs；　and　he　neither　had；　nor　professed　to　have；　his　hand　on　the　helm　of　household　affairs。　All　these　were　left　to　the　two　old　servants；　especially　to　the　butler；　who　was　plainly　the　central　pillar　of　the　house。　　Mr。　Paul；　indeed；　was　not　so　much　a　butler　as　a　sort　of　steward　or；　even；　chamberlain；　he　dined　privately；　but　with　almost　as　much　pomp　as　his　master；　he　was　feared　by　all　the　servants；　and　he　consulted　with　the　prince　decorously；　but　somewhat　unbendingly　rather　as　if　he　were　the　prince's　solicitor。　　The　sombre　housekeeper　was　a　mere　shadow　in　comparison；　indeed；　she　seemed　to　efface　herself　and　wait　only　on　the　butler；　and　Brown　heard　no　more　of　those　volcanic　whispers　which　had　half　told　him　of　the　younger　brother　who　blackmailed　the　elder。　　Whether　the　prince　was　really　being　thus　bled　by　the　absent　captain；　he　could　not　be　certain；　but　there　was　something　insecure　and　secretive　about　Saradine　that　made　the　tale　by　no　means　incredible。　　　　　When　they　went　once　more　into　the　long　hall　with　the　windows　and　the　mirrors；　yellow　evening　was　dropping　over　the　waters　and　the　willowy　banks；　and　a　bittern　sounded　in　the　distance　like　an　elf　upon　his　dwarfish　drum。　　The　same　singular　sentiment　of　some　sad　and　evil　fairyland　crossed　the　priest's　mind　again　like　a　little　grey　cloud。　　〃I　wish　Flambeau　were　back；〃　he　muttered。　　　　　〃Do　you　believe　in　doom？〃　asked　the　restless　Prince　Saradine　suddenly。　　　　　〃No；〃　answered　his　guest。　　〃I　believe　in　Doomsday。〃　　　　　The　prince　turned　from　the　window　and　stared　at　him　in　a　singular　manner；　his　face　in　shadow　against　the　sunset。　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　he　asked。　　　　　〃I　mean　that　we　here　are　on　the　wrong　side　of　the　tapestry；〃　answered　Father　Brown。　　〃The　things　that　happen　here　do　not　seem　to　mean　anything；　they　mean　something　somewhere　else。　　Somewhere　else　retribution　will　come　on　the　real　offender。　　Here　it　often　seems　to　fall　on　the　wrong　person。〃　　　　　The　prince　made　an　inexplicable　noise　like　an　animal；　in　his　shadowed　face　the　eyes　were　shining　queerly。　　A　new　and　shrewd　thought　exploded　silently　in　the　other's　mind。　　Was　there　another　meaning　in　Saradine's　blend　of　brilliancy　and　abruptness？　　Was　the　prince　Was　he　perfectly　sane？　　He　was　repeating；　〃The　wrong　personthe　wrong　person；〃　many　more　times　than　was　natural　in　a　social　exclamation。　　　　　Then　Father　Brown　awoke　tardily　to　a　second　truth。　　In　the　mirrors　before　him　he　could　see　the　silent　door　standing　open；　and　the　silent　Mr。　Paul　standing　in　it；　with　his　usual　pallid　impassiveness。　　　　　〃I　thought　it　better　to　announce　at　once；〃　he　said；　with　the　same　stiff　respectfulness　as　of　an　old　family　lawyer；　〃a　boat　rowed　by　six　men　has　come　to　the　landing…stage；　and　there's　a　gentleman　sitting　in　the　stern。〃　　　　　〃A　boat！〃　repeated　the　prince；　〃a　gentleman？〃　and　he　rose　to　his　feet。　　　　　There　was　a　startled　silence　punctuated　only　by　the　odd　noise　of　the　bird　in　the　sedge；　and　then；　before　anyone　could　speak　again；　a　new　face　and　figure　passed　in　profile　round　the　three　sunlit　windows；　as　the　prince　had　passed　an　hour　or　two　before。　But　except　for　the　accident　that　both　outlines　were　aquiline；　they　had　little　in　common。　　Instead　of　the　new　white　topper　of　Saradine；　was　a　black　one　of　antiquated　or　foreign　shape；　under　it　was　a　young　and　very　solemn　face；　clean　shaven；　blue　about　its　resolute　chin；　and　carrying　a　faint　suggestion　of　the　young　Napoleon。　　The　association　was　assisted　by　something　old　and　odd　about　the　whole　get…up；　as　of　a　man　who　had　never　troubled　to　change　the　fashions　of　his　fathers。　　He　had　a　shabby　blue　frock　coat；　a　red；　soldierly　looking　waistcoat；　and　a　kind　of　coarse　white　trousers　common　among　the　early　Victorians；　but　strangely　incongruous　today。　　From　all　this　old　clothes…shop　his　olive　face　stood　out　strangely　young　and　monstrously　sincere。　　　　　〃The　deuce！〃　said　Prince　Saradine；　and　clapping　on　his　white　hat　he　went　to　the　front　door　himself；　flinging　it　open　on　the　sunset　garden。　　　　　By　that　time　the　new…comer　and　his　followers　were　drawn　up　on　the　lawn　like　a　small　stage　army。　　The　six　boatmen　had　pulled　the　boat　well　up　on　shore；　and　were　guarding　it　almost　menacingly；　holding　their　oars　erect　like　spears。　　They　were　swarthy　men；　and　some　of　them　wore　earrings。　　But　one　of　them　stood　forward　beside　the　olive…faced　young　man　in　the　red　waistcoat；　and　carried　a　large　black　case　of　unfamiliar　form。　　　　　〃Your　name；〃　said　the　young　man；　〃is　Saradine？〃　　　　　Saradine　assented　rather　negligently。　　　　　The　new…comer　had　dull；　dog…like　brown　eyes；　as　different　as　possible　from　the　restless　and　glittering　grey　eyes　of　the　prince。　But　once　again　Father　Brown　was　tortured　with　a　sense　of　having　seen　somewhere　a　replica　of　the　face；　and　once　again　he　remembered　the　repetitions　of　the　glass…panelled　room；　and　put　down　the　coincidence　to　that。　　〃Confound　this　crystal　palace！〃　he　muttered。　〃One　sees　everything　too　many　times。　　It's　like　a　dream。〃　　　　　〃If　you　are　Prince　Saradine；〃　said　the　young　man；　〃I　may　tell　you　that　my　name　is　Antonelli。〃　　　　　〃Antonelli；〃　repeated　the　prince　languidly。　　〃Somehow　I　remember　the　name。〃　　　　　〃Permit　me　to　present　myself；〃　said　the　young　Italian。　　　　　With　his　left　hand　he　politely　took　off　his　old…fashioned　top…hat；　with　his　right　he　caught　Prince　Saradine　so　ringing　a　crack　across　the　face　that　the　white　top　hat　rolled　down　the　steps　and　one　of　the　blue　flower…pots　rocked　upon　its　pedestal。　　　　　The　prince；　whatever　he　was；　was　evidently　not　a　coward；　he　sprang　at　his　enemy's　throat　and　almost　bore　him　backwards　to　the　grass。　　But　his　enemy　extricated　himself　with　a　singularly　inappropriate　air　of　hurried　politeness。　　　　　〃That　is　all　right；〃　he　said；　panting　and　in　halting　English。　〃I　have　insulted。　　I　will　give　satisfaction。　　Marco；　open　the　case。〃　　　　　The　man　beside　him　with　the　earrings　and　the　big　black　case　proceeded　to　unlock　it。　　He　took　out　of　it　two　long　Italian　rapiers；　with　splendid　steel　hilts　and　blades；　which　he　planted　point　downwards　in　the　lawn。　　The　strange　young　man　standing　facing　the　entrance　with　his　yellow　and　vindictive　face；　the　two　swords　standing　up　in　the　turf　like　two　crosses　in　a　cemetery；　and　the　line　of　the　ranked　towers　behind；　gave　it　all　an　odd　appearance　of　being　some　barbaric　court　of　justice。　　But　everything　else　was　unchanged；　so　sudden　had　been　the　interruption。　　The　sunset　gold　still　glowed　on　the　lawn；　and　the　bittern　still　boomed　as　announcing　some　small　but　dreadful　destiny。　　　　　〃Prince　Saradine；〃　said　the　man　called　Antonelli；　〃when　I　was　an　infant　in　the　cradle　you　killed　my　father　and　stole　my　mother；　my　father　was　the　more　fortunate。　　You　did　not　kill　him　fairly；　as　I　am　going　to　kill　you。　　You　and　my　wicked　mother　took　him　driving　to　a　lonely　pass　in　Sicily；　flung　him　down　a　cliff；　and　went　on　your　way。　　I　could　imitate　you　if　I　chose；　but　imitating　you　is　too　vile。　　I　have　followed　you　all　over　the　world；　and　you　have　always　fled　from　me。　　But　this　is　the　end　of　the　worldand　of　you。　　I　have　you　now；　and　I　give　you　the　chance　you　never　gave　my　father。　　Choose　one　of　those　swords。〃　　　　　Prince　Saradine；　with　contracted　brows；　seemed　to　hesitate　a　moment；　but　his　ears　were　still　singing　with　the　blow；　and　he　sprang　forward　and　snatched　at　one　of　the　hilts。　　Father　Brown　had　also　sprung　forward；　striving　to　compose　the　dispute；　but　he　soon　found　his　personal　presence　made　matters　worse。　　Saradine　was　a　French　freemason　and　a　fierce　atheist；　and　a　priest　moved　him　by　the　law　of　contraries。　　And　for　the　other　man　neither　priest　nor　layman　moved　him　at　all。　　This　young　man　with　the　Bonaparte　face　and　the　brown　eyes　was　something　far　sterner　than　a　puritana　pagan。　　He　was　a　simple　slayer　from　the　morning　of　the　earth；　a　man　of　the　stone　agea　man　of　stone。　　　　　One　hope　remained；　the　summoning　of　the　household；　and　Father　Brown　ran　back　into　the　house。　　He　found；　however；　that　all　the　under　servants　had　been　given　a　holiday　ashore　by　the　autocrat　Paul；　and　that　only　the　sombre　Mrs。　Anthony　moved　uneasily　about　the　long　rooms。　　But　the　moment　she　turned　a　ghastly　face　upon　him；　he　resolved　one　of　the　riddles　of　the　house　of　mirrors。　　The　heavy　brown　eyes　of　Antonelli　were　the　heavy　brown　eyes　of　Mrs。　Anthony；　and　in　a　flash　he　saw　half　the　story。　　　　　〃Your　son　is　outside；〃　he　said　without　wasting　words；　〃either　he　or　the　prince　will　be　killed。　　Where　is　Mr。　Paul？〃　　　　　〃He　is　at　the　landing…stage；〃　said　the　woman　faintly。　　〃He　is　he　issignalling　for　help。〃　　　　　〃Mrs。　Anthony；〃　said　Father　Brown　seriously；　〃there　is　no　time　for　nonsense。　　My　friend　has　his　boat　down　the　river　fishing。　Your　son's　boat　is　guarded　by　your　son's　men。　　There　is　only　this　one　canoe；　what　is　Mr。　Paul　doing　with　it？〃　　　　　〃Santa　Maria！　　I　do　not　know；〃　she　said；　and　swooned　all　her　length　on　the　matted　floor。　　　　　Father　Brown　lifted　her　to　a　so