the innocence of father brown-第3部分

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me　to　the　beginning　of　Tufnell　Park。　　London　died　away　in　draggled　taverns　and　dreary　scrubs；　and　then　was　unaccountably　born　again　in　blazing　high　streets　and　blatant　hotels。　　It　was　like　passing　through　thirteen　separate　vulgar　cities　all　just　touching　each　other。　　But　though　the　winter　twilight　was　already　threatening　the　road　ahead　of　them；　the　Parisian　detective　still　sat　silent　and　watchful；　eyeing　the　frontage　of　the　streets　that　slid　by　on　either　side。　　By　the　time　they　had　left　Camden　Town　behind；　the　policemen　were　nearly　asleep；　at　least；　they　gave　something　like　a　jump　as　Valentin　leapt　erect；　struck　a　hand　on　each　man's　shoulder；　and　shouted　to　the　driver　to　stop。　　　　　They　tumbled　down　the　steps　into　the　road　without　realising　why　they　had　been　dislodged；　when　they　looked　round　for　enlightenment　they　found　Valentin　triumphantly　pointing　his　finger　towards　a　window　on　the　left　side　of　the　road。　　It　was　a　large　window；　forming　part　of　the　long　facade　of　a　gilt　and　palatial　public…house；　it　was　the　part　reserved　for　respectable　dining；　and　labelled　〃Restaurant。〃　　This　window；　like　all　the　rest　along　the　frontage　of　the　hotel；　was　of　frosted　and　figured　glass；　but　in　the　middle　of　it　was　a　big；　black　smash；　like　a　star　in　the　ice。　　　　　〃Our　cue　at　last；〃　cried　Valentin；　waving　his　stick；　〃the　place　with　the　broken　window。〃　　　　　〃What　window？　　What　cue？〃　asked　his　principal　assistant。　〃Why；　what　proof　is　there　that　this　has　anything　to　do　with　them？〃　　　　　Valentin　almost　broke　his　bamboo　stick　with　rage。　　　　　〃Proof！〃　he　cried。　　〃Good　God！　the　man　is　looking　for　proof！　Why；　of　course；　the　chances　are　twenty　to　one　that　it　has　nothing　to　do　with　them。　　But　what　else　can　we　do？　　Don't　you　see　we　must　either　follow　one　wild　possibility　or　else　go　home　to　bed？〃　　He　banged　his　way　into　the　restaurant；　followed　by　his　companions；　and　they　were　soon　seated　at　a　late　luncheon　at　a　little　table；　and　looked　at　the　star　of　smashed　glass　from　the　inside。　　Not　that　it　was　very　informative　to　them　even　then。　　　　　〃Got　your　window　broken；　I　see；〃　said　Valentin　to　the　waiter　as　he　paid　the　bill。　　　　　〃Yes；　sir；〃　answered　the　attendant；　bending　busily　over　the　change；　to　which　Valentin　silently　added　an　enormous　tip。　　The　waiter　straightened　himself　with　mild　but　unmistakable　animation。　　　　　〃Ah；　yes；　sir；〃　he　said。　　〃Very　odd　thing；　that；　sir。〃　　　　　〃Indeed？〃　Tell　us　about　it；〃　said　the　detective　with　careless　curiosity。　　　　　〃Well；　two　gents　in　black　came　in；〃　said　the　waiter；　〃two　of　those　foreign　parsons　that　are　running　about。　　They　had　a　cheap　and　quiet　little　lunch；　and　one　of　them　paid　for　it　and　went　out。　The　other　was　just　going　out　to　join　him　when　I　looked　at　my　change　again　and　found　he'd　paid　me　more　than　three　times　too　much。　　‘Here；'　I　says　to　the　chap　who　was　nearly　out　of　the　door；　‘you've　paid　too　much。'　　‘Oh；'　he　says；　very　cool；　‘have　we？'　'Yes；'　I　says；　and　picks　up　the　bill　to　show　him。　　Well；　that　was　a　knock…out。〃　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　asked　his　interlocutor。　　　　　〃Well；　I'd　have　sworn　on　seven　Bibles　that　I'd　put　4s。　on　that　bill。　　But　now　I　saw　I'd　put　14s。；　as　plain　as　paint。〃　　　　　〃Well？〃　cried　Valentin；　moving　slowly；　but　with　burning　eyes；　〃and　then？〃　　　　　〃The　parson　at　the　door　he　says　all　serene；　‘Sorry　to　confuse　your　accounts；　but　it'll　pay　for　the　window。'　　‘What　window？'　I　says。　　‘The　one　I'm　going　to　break；'　he　says；　and　smashed　that　blessed　pane　with　his　umbrella。〃　　　　　All　three　inquirers　made　an　exclamation；　and　the　inspector　said　under　his　breath；　〃Are　we　after　escaped　lunatics？〃　　The　waiter　went　on　with　some　relish　for　the　ridiculous　story：　　　　　〃I　was　so　knocked　silly　for　a　second；　I　couldn't　do　anything。　The　man　marched　out　of　the　place　and　joined　his　friend　just　round　the　corner。　　Then　they　went　so　quick　up　Bullock　Street　that　I　couldn't　catch　them；　though　I　ran　round　the　bars　to　do　it。〃　　　　　〃Bullock　Street；〃　said　the　detective；　and　shot　up　that　thoroughfare　as　quickly　as　the　strange　couple　he　pursued。　　　　　Their　journey　now　took　them　through　bare　brick　ways　like　tunnels；　streets　with　few　lights　and　even　with　few　windows；　streets　that　seemed　built　out　of　the　blank　backs　of　everything　and　everywhere。　　Dusk　was　deepening；　and　it　was　not　easy　even　for　the　London　policemen　to　guess　in　what　exact　direction　they　were　treading。　　The　inspector；　however；　was　pretty　certain　that　they　would　eventually　strike　some　part　of　Hampstead　Heath。　　Abruptly　one　bulging　gas…lit　window　broke　the　blue　twilight　like　a　bull's…eye　lantern；　and　Valentin　stopped　an　instant　before　a　little　garish　sweetstuff　shop。　　After　an　instant's　hesitation　he　went　in；　he　stood　amid　the　gaudy　colours　of　the　confectionery　with　entire　gravity　and　bought　thirteen　chocolate　cigars　with　a　certain　care。　He　was　clearly　preparing　an　opening；　but　he　did　not　need　one。　　　　　An　angular；　elderly　young　woman　in　the　shop　had　regarded　his　elegant　appearance　with　a　merely　automatic　inquiry；　but　when　she　saw　the　door　behind　him　blocked　with　the　blue　uniform　of　the　inspector；　her　eyes　seemed　to　wake　up。　　　　　〃Oh；〃　she　said；　〃if　you've　come　about　that　parcel；　I've　sent　it　off　already。〃　　　　　〃Parcel？〃　repeated　Valentin；　and　it　was　his　turn　to　look　inquiring。　　　　　〃I　mean　the　parcel　the　gentleman　leftthe　clergyman　gentleman。〃　　　　　〃For　goodness'　sake；〃　said　Valentin；　leaning　forward　with　his　first　real　confession　of　eagerness；　〃for　Heaven's　sake　tell　us　what　happened　exactly。〃　　　　　〃Well；〃　said　the　woman　a　little　doubtfully；　〃the　clergymen　came　in　about　half　an　hour　ago　and　bought　some　peppermints　and　talked　a　bit；　and　then　went　off　towards　the　Heath。　　But　a　second　after；　one　of　them　runs　back　into　the　shop　and　says；　‘Have　I　left　a　parcel！'　　Well；　I　looked　everywhere　and　couldn't　see　one；　so　he　says；　‘Never　mind；　but　if　it　should　turn　up；　please　post　it　to　this　address；'　and　he　left　me　the　address　and　a　shilling　for　my　trouble。　　And　sure　enough；　though　I　thought　I'd　looked　everywhere；　I　found　he'd　left　a　brown　paper　parcel；　so　I　posted　it　to　the　place　he　said。　　I　can't　remember　the　address　now；　it　was　somewhere　in　Westminster。　　But　as　the　thing　seemed　so　important；　I　thought　perhaps　the　police　had　come　about　it。〃　　　　　〃So　they　have；〃　said　Valentin　shortly。　　〃Is　Hampstead　Heath　near　here？〃　　　　　〃Straight　on　for　fifteen　minutes；〃　said　the　woman；　〃and　you'll　come　right　out　on　the　open。〃　　Valentin　sprang　out　of　the　shop　and　began　to　run。　　The　other　detectives　followed　him　at　a　reluctant　trot。　　　　　The　street　they　threaded　was　so　narrow　and　shut　in　by　shadows　that　when　they　came　out　unexpectedly　into　the　void　common　and　vast　sky　they　were　startled　to　find　the　evening　still　so　light　and　clear。　　A　perfect　dome　of　peacock…green　sank　into　gold　amid　the　blackening　trees　and　the　dark　violet　distances。　　The　glowing　green　tint　was　just　deep　enough　to　pick　out　in　points　of　crystal　one　or　two　stars。　　All　that　was　left　of　the　daylight　lay　in　a　golden　glitter　across　the　edge　of　Hampstead　and　that　popular　hollow　which　is　called　the　Vale　of　Health。　　The　holiday　makers　who　roam　this　region　had　not　wholly　dispersed；　a　few　couples　sat　shapelessly　on　benches；　and　here　and　there　a　distant　girl　still　shrieked　in　one　of　the　swings。　　The　glory　of　heaven　deepened　and　darkened　around　the　sublime　vulgarity　of　man；　and　standing　on　the　slope　and　looking　across　the　valley；　Valentin　beheld　the　thing　which　he　sought。　　　　　Among　the　black　and　breaking　groups　in　that　distance　was　one　especially　black　which　did　not　breaka　group　of　two　figures　clerically　clad。　　Though　they　seemed　as　small　as　insects；　Valentin　could　see　that　one　of　them　was　much　smaller　than　the　other。　Though　the　other　had　a　student's　stoop　and　an　inconspicuous　manner；　he　could　see　that　the　man　was　well　over　six　feet　high。　　He　shut　his　teeth　and　went　forward；　whirling　his　stick　impatiently。　　By　the　time　he　had　substantially　diminished　the　distance　and　magnified　the　two　black　figures　as　in　a　vast　microscope；　he　had　perceived　something　else；　something　which　startled　him；　and　yet　which　he　had　somehow　expected。　　Whoever　was　the　tall　priest；　there　could　be　no　doubt　about　the　identity　of　the　short　one。　　It　was　his　friend　of　the　Harwich　train；　the　stumpy　little　cure　of　Essex　whom　he　had　warned　about　his　brown　paper　parcels。　　　　　Now；　so　far　as　this　went；　everything　fitted　in　finally　and　rationally　enough。　　Valentin　had　learned　by　his　inquiries　that　morning　that　a　Father　Brown　from　Essex　was　bringing　up　a　silver　cross　with　sapphires；　a　relic　of　considerable　value；　to　show　some　of　the　foreign　priests　at　the　congress。　　This　undoubtedly　was　the　〃silver　with　blue　stones〃；　and　Father　Brown　undoubtedly　was　the　little　greenhorn　in　the　train。　　Now　there　was　nothing　wonderful　about　the　fact　that　what　Valentin　had　found　out　Flambeau　had　also　found　out；　Flambeau　found　out　everything。　　Also　there　was　nothing　wonderful　in　the　fact　that　when　Flambeau　heard　of　a　sapphire　cross　he　should　try　to　steal　it；　that　was　the　most　natural　thing　in　all　natural　history。　　And　most　certainly　there　was　nothing　wonderful　about　the　fact　that　Flambeau　should　have　it　all　his　own　way　with　such　a　silly　sheep　as　the　man　with　the　umbrella　and　the　parcels。　He　was　the　sort　of　man　whom　anybody　could　lead　on　a　string　to　the　North　Pole；　it　was　not　surprising　that　an　actor　like　Flambeau；　dressed　as　another　priest；　could　lead　him　to　Hampstead　Heath。　　So　far　the　crime　seemed　clear　enough；　and　while　the　detective　pitied　the　priest　for　his　helplessness；　he　almost　despised　Flambeau　for　condescending　to　so　gullible　a　victim。　　But　when　Valentin　thought　of　all　that　had　happened　in　between；　of　all　that　had　led　him　to　his　triumph；　he　racked　his　brains　for　the　smallest　rhyme　or　reason　in　it。　　What　had　the　stealing　of　a　blue…and…silver　cross　from　a　priest　from　Essex　to　do　with　chucking　soup　at　wall　paper？　　What　had　it　to　do　with　calling　nuts　oranges；　or　with　paying　for　windows　first　and　breaking　them　afterwards？　　He　had　come　to　the　end　of　his　chase；　yet　somehow　he　had　missed　the　middle　of　it。　　When　he　failed　（which　was　seldom）；　he　had　usually　grasped　the　clue；　but　nevertheless　missed　the　criminal。　　Here　he　had　grasped　the　criminal；　but　still　he　could　not　grasp　the　clue。　　　　　The　two　figures　that　they　followed　were　crawling　like　black　flies　across　the　huge　green　contour　of　a　hill。　　They　were　evidently　sunk　in　conversation；　and　per