the wisdom of father brown-第22节

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early　modulated　and　rather　mincing　articulation：　　‘Would　it　discommode　you　to　contribute　elsewhere　a　coin　with　a　somewhat　different　superscription？'

　　　　　〃With　one　exception　there　was　nothing　definably　abnormal　about　him。　　His　tinted　glasses　were　not　really　opaque；　but　of　a　blue　kind　common　enough；　nor　were　the　eyes　behind　them　shifty；　but　regarded　me　steadily。　　His　dark　beard　was　not　really　long　or　wild；　but　he　looked　rather　hairy；　because　the　beard　began　very　high　up　in　his　face；　just　under　the　cheek…bones。　　His　complexion　was　neither　sallow　nor　livid；　but　on　the　contrary　rather　clear　and　youthful；　yet　this　gave　a　pink…and…white　wax　look　which　somehow　（I　don't　know　why）　rather　increased　the　horror。　　The　only　oddity　one　could　fix　was　that　his　nose；　which　was　otherwise　of　a　good　shape；　was　just　slightly　turned　sideways　at　the　tip；　as　if；　when　it　was　soft；　it　had　been　tapped　on　one　side　with　a　toy　hammer。　　The　thing　was　hardly　a　deformity；　yet　I　cannot　tell　you　what　a　living　nightmare　it　was　to　me。　　As　he　stood　there　in　the　sunset…stained　water　he　affected　me　as　some　hellish　sea…monster　just　risen　roaring　out　of　a　sea　like　blood。　　I　don't　know　why　a　touch　on　the　nose　should　affect　my　imagination　so　much。　　I　think　it　seemed　as　if　he　could　move　his　nose　like　a　finger。　　And　as　if　he　had　just　that　moment　moved　it。

　　　　　〃‘Any　little　assistance；'　he　continued　with　the　same　queer；　priggish　accent；　‘that　may　obviate　the　necessity　of　my　communicating　with　the　family。'

　　　　　〃Then　it　rushed　over　me　that　I　was　being　blackmailed　for　the　theft　of　the　bronze　piece；　and　all　my　merely　superstitious　fears　and　doubts　were　swallowed　up　in　one　overpowering；　practical　question。　　How　could　he　have　found　out？　　I　had　stolen　the　thing　suddenly　and　on　impulse；　I　was　certainly　alone；　for　I　always　made　sure　of　being　unobserved　when　I　slipped　out　to　see　Philip　in　this　way。　　I　had　not；　to　all　appearance；　been　followed　in　the　street；　and　if　I　had；　they　could　not　‘X…ray'　the　coin　in　my　closed　hand。　　The　man　standing　on　the　sand…hills　could　no　more　have　seen　what　I　gave　Philip　than　shoot　a　fly　in　one　eye；　like　the　man　in　the　fairy…tale。

　　　　　〃‘Philip；'　I　cried　helplessly；　‘ask　this　man　what　he　wants。'

　　　　　〃When　Philip　lifted　his　head　at　last　from　mending　his　net　he　looked　rather　red；　as　if　sulky　or　ashamed；　but　it　may　have　been　only　the　exertion　of　stooping　and　the　red　evening　light；　I　may　have　only　had　another　of　the　morbid　fancies　that　seemed　to　be　dancing　about　me。　　He　merely　said　gruffly　to　the　man：　‘You　clear　out　of　this。'　　And；　motioning　me　to　follow；　set　off　wading　shoreward　without　paying　further　attention　to　him。　　He　stepped　on　to　a　stone　breakwater　that　ran　out　from　among　the　roots　of　the　sand…hills；　and　so　struck　homeward；　perhaps　thinking　our　incubus　would　find　it　less　easy　to　walk　on　such　rough　stones；　green　and　slippery　with　seaweed；　than　we；　who　were　young　and　used　to　it。　　But　my　persecutor　walked　as　daintily　as　he　talked；　and　he　still　followed　me；　picking　his　way　and　picking　his　phrases。　　I　heard　his　delicate；　detestable　voice　appealing　to　me　over　my　shoulder；　until　at　last；　when　we　had　crested　the　sand…hills；　Philip's　patience　（which　was　by　no　means　so　conspicuous　on　most　occasions）　seemed　to　snap。　　He　turned　suddenly；　saying；　‘Go　back。　　I　can't　talk　to　you　now。'　　And　as　the　man　hovered　and　opened　his　mouth；　Philip　struck　him　a　buffet　on　it　that　sent　him　flying　from　the　top　of　the　tallest　sand…hill　to　the　bottom。　　I　saw　him　crawling　out　below；　covered　with　sand。

　　　　　〃This　stroke　comforted　me　somehow；　though　it　might　well　increase　my　peril；　but　Philip　showed　none　of　his　usual　elation　at　his　own　prowess。　　Though　as　affectionate　as　ever；　he　still　seemed　cast　down；　and　before　I　could　ask　him　anything　fully；　he　parted　with　me　at　his　own　gate；　with　two　remarks　that　struck　me　as　strange。　　He　said　that；　all　things　considered；　I　ought　to　put　the　coin　back　in　the　Collection；　but　that　he　himself　would　keep　it　‘for　the　present'。　　And　then　he　added　quite　suddenly　and　irrelevantly：；　‘You　know　Giles　is　back　from　Australia？'〃

　　　　　The　door　of　the　tavern　opened　and　the　gigantic　shadow　of　the　investigator　Flambeau　fell　across　the　table。　　Father　Brown　presented　him　to　the　lady　in　his　own　slight；　persuasive　style　of　speech；　mentioning　his　knowledge　and　sympathy　in　such　cases；　and　almost　without　knowing；　the　girl　was　soon　reiterating　her　story　to　two　listeners。　　But　Flambeau；　as　he　bowed　and　sat　down；　handed　the　priest　a　small　slip　of　paper。　　Brown　accepted　it　with　some　surprise　and　read　on　it：　　〃Cab　to　Wagga　Wagga；　379；　Mafeking　Avenue；　Putney。〃　The　girl　was　going　on　with　her　story。

　　　　　〃I　went　up　the　steep　street　to　my　own　house　with　my　head　in　a　whirl；　it　bad　not　begun　to　clear　when　I　came　to　the　doorstep；　on　which　I　found　a　milk…canand　the　man　with　the　twisted　nose。　　The　milk…can　told　me　the　servants　were　all　out；　for；　of　course；　Arthur；　browsing　about　in　his　brown　dressing…gown　in　a　brown　study；　would　not　hear　or　answer　a　bell。　　Thus　there　was　no　one　to　help　me　in　the　house；　except　my　brother；　whose　help　must　be　my　ruin。　　In　desperation　I　thrust　two　shillings　into　the　horrid　thing's　hand；　and　told　him　to　call　again　in　a　few　days；　when　I　had　thought　it　out。　　He　went　off　sulking；　but　more　sheepishly　than　I　had　expected　perhaps　he　had　been　shaken　by　his　falland　I　watched　the　star　of　sand　splashed　on　his　back　receding　down　the　road　with　a　horrid　vindictive　pleasure。　　He　turned　a　corner　some　six　houses　down。

　　　　　〃Then　I　let　myself　in；　made　myself　some　tea；　and　tried　to　think　it　out。　　I　sat　at　the　drawing…room　window　looking　on　to　the　garden；　which　still　glowed　with　the　last　full　evening　light。　　But　I　was　too　distracted　and　dreamy　to　look　at　the　lawns　and　flower…pots　and　flower…beds　with　any　concentration。　　So　I　took　the　shock　the　more　sharply　because　I'd　seen　it　so　slowly。

　　　　　〃The　man　or　monster　I'd　sent　away　was　standing　quite　still　in　the　middle　of　the　garden。　　Oh；　we've　all　read　a　lot　about　pale…faced　phantoms　in　the　dark；　but　this　was　more　dreadful　than　anything　of　that　kind　could　ever　be。　　Because；　though　he　cast　a　long　evening　shadow；　he　still　stood　in　warm　sunlight。　　And　because　his　face　was　not　pale；　but　had　that　waxen　bloom　still　upon　it　that　belongs　to　a　barber's　dummy。　　He　stood　quite　still；　with　his　face　towards　me；　and　I　can't　tell　you　how　horrid　he　looked　among　the　tulips　and　all　those　tall；　gaudy；　almost　hothouse…looking　flowers。　　It　looked　as　if　we'd　stuck　up　a　waxwork　instead　of　a　statue　in　the　centre　of　our　garden。

　　　　　〃Yet　almost　the　instant　he　saw　me　move　in　the　window　he　turned　and　ran　out　of　the　garden　by　the　back　gate；　which　stood　open　and　by　which　he　had　undoubtedly　entered。　　This　renewed　timidity　on　his　part　was　so　different　from　the　impudence　with　which　he　had　walked　into　the　sea；　that　I　felt　vaguely　comforted。　　I　fancied；　perhaps；　that　he　feared　confronting　Arthur　more　than　I　knew。　　Anyhow；　I　settled　down　at　last；　and　had　a　quiet　dinner　alone　（for　it　was　against　the　rules　to　disturb　Arthur　when　he　was　rearranging　the　museum）；　and；　my　thoughts；　a　little　released；　fled　to　Philip　and　lost　themselves；　I　suppose。　　Anyhow；　I　was　looking　blankly；　but　rather　pleasantly　than　otherwise；　at　another　window；　uncurtained；　but　by　this　time　black　as　a　slate　with　the　final　night…fall。　　It　seemed　to　me　that　something　like　a　snail　was　on　the　outside　of　the　window…pane。　　But　when　I　stared　harder；　it　was　more　like　a　man's　thumb　pressed　on　the　pane；　it　had　that　curled　look　that　a　thumb　has。　　With　my　fear　and　courage　re…awakened　together；　I　rushed　at　the　window　and　then　recoiled　with　a　strangled　scream　that　any　man　but　Arthur　must　have　heard。

　　　　　〃For　it　was　not　a　thumb；　any　more　than　it　was　a　snail。　　It　was　the　tip　of　a　crooked　nose；　crushed　against　the　glass；　it　looked　white　with　the　pressure；　and　the　staring　face　and　eyes　behind　it　were　at　first　invisible　and　afterwards　grey　like　a　ghost。　　I　slammed　the　shutters　together　somehow；　rushed　up　to　my　room　and　locked　myself　in。　　But；　even　as　I　passed；　I　could　swear　I　saw　a　second　black　window　with　something　on　it　that　was　like　a　snail。

　　　　　〃It　might　be　best　to　go　to　Arthur　after　all。　　If　the　thing　was　crawling　close　all　around　the　house　like　a　cat；　it　might　have　purposes　worse　even　than　blackmail。　　My　brother　might　cast　me　out　and　curse　me　for　ever；　but　he　was　a　gentleman；　and　would　defend　me　on　the　spot。　　After　ten　minutes'　curious　thinking；　I　went　down；　knocked　on　the　door　and　then　went　in：　　to　see　the　last　and　worst　sight。

　　　　　〃My　brother's　chair　was　empty；　and　he　was　obviously　out。　　But　the　man　with　the　crooked　nose　was　sitting　waiting　for　his　return；　with　his　hat　still　insolently　on　his　head；　and　actually　reading　one　of　my　brother's　books　under　my　brother's　lamp。　　His　face　was　composed　and　occupied；　but　his　nose…tip　still　had　the　air　of　being　the　most　mobile　part　of　his　face；　as　if　it　had　just　turned　from　left　to　right　like　an　elephant's　proboscis。　　I　had　thought　him　poisonous　enough　while　he　was　pursuing　and　watching　me；　but　I　think　his　unconsciousness　of　my　presence　was　more　frightful　still。

　　　　　〃I　think　I　screamed　loud　and　long；　but　that　doesn't　matter。　　What　I　did　next　does　matter：　　I　gave　him　all　the　money　I　had；　including　a　good　deal　in　paper　which；　though　it