the wisdom of father brown-第5部分

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　　　　　They　were　in　an　eddy　of　excitement　about　some　alleged　peril　in　the　mountain　path　they　were　to　attempt　that　week。　　The　danger　was　not　from　rock　and　avalanche；　but　from　something　yet　more　romantic。　　Ethel　had　been　earnestly　assured　that　brigands；　the　true　cut…throats　of　the　modern　legend；　still　haunted　that　ridge　and　held　that　pass　of　the　Apennines。

　　　　　〃They　say；〃　she　cried；　with　the　awful　relish　of　a　schoolgirl；　〃that　all　that　country　isn't　ruled　by　the　King　of　Italy；　but　by　the　King　of　Thieves。　　Who　is　the　King　of　Thieves？〃

　　　　　〃A　great　man；〃　replied　Muscari；　〃worthy　to　rank　with　your　own　Robin　Hood；　signorina。　　Montano；　the　King　of　Thieves；　was　first　heard　of　in　the　mountains　some　ten　years　ago；　when　people　said　brigands　were　extinct。　　But　his　wild　authority　spread　with　the　swiftness　of　a　silent　revolution。　　Men　found　his　fierce　proclamations　nailed　in　every　mountain　village；　his　sentinels；　gun　in　hand；　in　every　mountain　ravine。　　Six　times　the　Italian　Government　tried　to　dislodge　him；　and　was　defeated　in　six　pitched　battles　as　if　by　Napoleon。〃

　　　　　〃Now　that　sort　of　thing；〃　observed　the　banker　weightily；　〃would　never　be　allowed　in　England；　perhaps；　after　all；　we　had　better　choose　another　route。　　But　the　courier　thought　it　perfectly　safe。〃

　　　　　〃It　is　perfectly　safe；〃　said　the　courier　contemptuously。　　〃I　have　been　over　it　twenty　times。　　There　may　have　been　some　old　jailbird　called　a　King　in　the　time　of　our　grandmothers；　but　he　belongs　to　history　if　not　to　fable。　　Brigandage　is　utterly　stamped　out。〃

　　　　　〃It　can　never　be　utterly　stamped　out；〃　Muscari　answered；　〃because　armed　revolt　is　a　recreation　natural　to　southerners。　　Our　peasants　are　like　their　mountains；　rich　in　grace　and　green　gaiety；　but　with　the　fires　beneath。　　There　is　a　point　of　human　despair　where　the　northern　poor　take　to　drinkand　our　own　poor　take　to　daggers。〃

　　　　　〃A　poet　is　privileged；〃　replied　Ezza；　with　a　sneer。　　〃If　Signor　Muscari　were　English　be　would　still　be　looking　for　highwaymen　in　Wandsworth。　　Believe　me；　there　is　no　more　danger　of　being　captured　in　Italy　than　of　being　scalped　in　Boston。〃

　　　　　〃Then　you　propose　to　attempt　it？〃　asked　Mr　Harrogate；　frowning。

　　　　　〃Oh；　it　sounds　rather　dreadful；〃　cried　the　girl；　turning　her　glorious　eyes　on　Muscari。　　〃Do　you　really　think　the　pass　is　dangerous？〃

　　　　　Muscari　threw　back　his　black　mane。　　〃I　know　it　is　dangerous：〃　he　said。　　〃I　am　crossing　it　tomorrow。〃

　　　　　The　young　Harrogate　was　left　behind　for　a　moment　emptying　a　glass　of　white　wine　and　lighting　a　cigarette；　as　the　beauty　retired　with　the　banker；　the　courier　and　the　poet；　distributing　peals　of　silvery　satire。　　At　about　the　same　instant　the　two　priests　in　the　corner　rose；　the　taller；　a　white…haired　Italian；　taking　his　leave。　　The　shorter　priest　turned　and　walked　towards　the　banker's　son；　and　the　latter　was　astonished　to　realize　that　though　a　Roman　priest　the　man　was　an　Englishman。　　He　vaguely　remembered　meeting　him　at　the　social　crushes　of　some　of　his　Catholic　friends。　　But　the　man　spoke　before　his　memories　could　collect　themselves。

　　　　　〃Mr　Frank　Harrogate；　I　think；〃　he　said。　　〃I　have　had　an　introduction；　but　I　do　not　mean　to　presume　on　it。　　The　odd　thing　I　have　to　say　will　come　far　better　from　a　stranger。　　Mr　Harrogate；　I　say　one　word　and　go：　　take　care　of　your　sister　in　her　great　sorrow。〃

　　　　　Even　for　Frank's　truly　fraternal　indifference　the　radiance　and　derision　of　his　sister　still　seemed　to　sparkle　and　ring；　he　could　hear　her　laughter　still　from　the　garden　of　the　hotel；　and　he　stared　at　his　sombre　adviser　in　puzzledom。

　　　　　〃Do　you　mean　the　brigands？〃　he　asked；　and　then；　remembering　a　vague　fear　of　his　own；　〃or　can　you　be　thinking　of　Muscari？〃

　　　　　〃One　is　never　thinking　of　the　real　sorrow；〃　said　the　strange　priest。　　〃One　can　only　be　kind　when　it　comes。〃

　　　　　And　he　passed　promptly　from　the　room；　leaving　the　other　almost　with　his　mouth　open。

　　　　　A　day　or　two　afterwards　a　coach　containing　the　company　was　really　crawling　and　staggering　up　the　spurs　of　the　menacing　mountain　range。　　Between　Ezza's　cheery　denial　of　the　danger　and　Muscari's　boisterous　defiance　of　it；　the　financial　family　were　firm　in　their　original　purpose；　and　Muscari　made　his　mountain　journey　coincide　with　theirs。　　A　more　surprising　feature　was　the　appearance　at　the　coast…town　station　of　the　little　priest　of　the　restaurant；　he　alleged　merely　that　business　led　him　also　to　cross　the　mountains　of　the　midland。　　But　young　Harrogate　could　not　but　connect　his　presence　with　the　mystical　fears　and　warnings　of　yesterday。

　　　　　The　coach　was　a　kind　of　commodious　wagonette；　invented　by　the　modernist　talent　of　the　courier；　who　dominated　the　expedition　with　his　scientific　activity　and　breezy　wit。　　The　theory　of　danger　from　thieves　was　banished　from　thought　and　speech；　though　so　far　conceded　in　formal　act　that　some　slight　protection　was　employed。　　The　courier　and　the　young　banker　carried　loaded　revolvers；　and　Muscari　（with　much　boyish　gratification）　buckled　on　a　kind　of　cutlass　under　his　black　cloak。

　　　　　He　had　planted　his　person　at　a　flying　leap　next　to　the　lovely　Englishwoman；　on　the　other　side　of　her　sat　the　priest；　whose　name　was　Brown　and　who　was　fortunately　a　silent　individual；　the　courier　and　the　father　and　son　were　on　the　banc　behind。　　Muscari　was　in　towering　spirits；　seriously　believing　in　the　peril；　and　his　talk　to　Ethel　might　well　have　made　her　think　him　a　maniac。　　But　there　was　something　in　the　crazy　and　gorgeous　ascent；　amid　crags　like　peaks　loaded　with　woods　like　orchards；　that　dragged　her　spirit　up　alone　with　his　into　purple　preposterous　heavens　with　wheeling　suns。　　The　white　road　climbed　like　a　white　cat；　it　spanned　sunless　chasms　like　a　tight…rope；　it　was　flung　round　far…off　headlands　like　a　lasso。

　　　　　And　yet；　however　high　they　went；　the　desert　still　blossomed　like　the　rose。　　The　fields　were　burnished　in　sun　and　wind　with　the　colour　of　kingfisher　and　parrot　and　humming…bird；　the　hues　of　a　hundred　flowering　flowers。　　There　are　no　lovelier　meadows　and　woodlands　than　the　English；　no　nobler　crests　or　chasms　than　those　of　Snowdon　and　Glencoe。　　But　Ethel　Harrogate　had　never　before　seen　the　southern　parks　tilted　on　the　splintered　northern　peaks；　the　gorge　of　Glencoe　laden　with　the　fruits　of　Kent。　　There　was　nothing　here　of　that　chill　and　desolation　that　in　Britain　one　associates　with　high　and　wild　scenery。　　It　was　rather　like　a　mosaic　palace；　rent　with　earthquakes；　or　like　a　Dutch　tulip　garden　blown　to　the　stars　with　dynamite。

　　　　　〃It's　like　Kew　Gardens　on　Beachy　Head；〃　said　Ethel。

　　　　　〃It　is　our　secret；〃　answered　he；　〃the　secret　of　the　volcano；　that　is　also　the　secret　of　the　revolutionthat　a　thing　can　be　violent　and　yet　fruitful。〃

　　　　　〃You　are　rather　violent　yourself；〃　and　she　smiled　at　him。

　　　　　〃And　yet　rather　fruitless；〃　he　admitted；　〃if　I　die　tonight　I　die　unmarried　and　a　fool。〃

　　　　　〃It　is　not　my　fault　if　you　have　come；〃　she　said　after　a　difficult　silence。

　　　　　〃It　is　never　your　fault；〃　answered　Muscari；　〃it　was　not　your　fault　that　Troy　fell。〃

　　　　　As　they　spoke　they　came　under　overwhelming　cliffs　that　spread　almost　like　wings　above　a　corner　of　peculiar　peril。　　Shocked　by　the　big　shadow　on　the　narrow　ledge；　the　horses　stirred　doubtfully。　　The　driver　leapt　to　the　earth　to　hold　their　heads；　and　they　became　ungovernable。　　One　horse　reared　up　to　his　full　height　the　titanic　and　terrifying　height　of　a　horse　when　he　becomes　a　biped。　　It　was　just　enough　to　alter　the　equilibrium；　the　whole　coach　heeled　over　like　a　ship　and　crashed　through　the　fringe　of　bushes　over　the　cliff。　　Muscari　threw　an　arm　round　Ethel；　who　clung　to　him；　and　shouted　aloud。　　It　was　for　such　moments　that　he　lived。

　　　　　At　the　moment　when　the　gorgeous　mountain　walls　went　round　the　poet's　head　like　a　purple　windmill　a　thing　happened　which　was　superficially　even　more　startling。　　The　elderly　and　lethargic　banker　sprang　erect　in　the　coach　and　leapt　over　the　precipice　before　the　tilted　vehicle　could　take　him　there。　　In　the　first　flash　it　looked　as　wild　as　suicide；　but　in　the　second　it　was　as　sensible　as　a　safe　investment。　　The　Yorkshireman　had　evidently　more　promptitude；　as　well　as　more　sagacity；　than　Muscari　had　given　him　credit　for；　for　he　landed　in　a　lap　of　land　which　might　have　been　specially　padded　with　turf　and　clover　to　receive　him。　　As　it　happened；　indeed；　the　whole　company　were　equally　lucky；　if　less　dignified　in　their　form　of　ejection。　　Immediately　under　this　abrupt　turn　of　the　road　was　a　grassy　and　flowery　hollow　like　a　sunken　meadow；　a　sort　of　green　velvet　pocket　in　the　long；　green；　trailing　garments　of　the　hills。　　Into　this　they　were　all　tipped　or　tumbled　with　little　damage；　save　that　their　smallest　baggage　and　even　the　contents　of　their　pockets　were　scattered　in　the　grass　around　them。　　The　wrecked　coach　still　hung　above；　entangled　in　the　tough　hedge；　and　the　horses　plunged　painfully　down　the　slope。　　The　first　to　sit　up　was　the　little　priest；　who　scratched　his　head　with　a　face　of　foolish　wonder。　　Frank　Harrogate　heard　him　say　to　himself：　〃Now　why　on　earth　have　we　fallen　just　here？〃

　　　　　He　blinked　at　the　litter　around　him；　and　recovered　his　own　very　clumsy　umbrella。　　Beyond　it　lay　the　broad　sombrero　fallen　from　the　head　of　Muscari；　and　beside　it　a　sealed　business　letter　which；　after　a　glance　at　the　address；　he　returned　to　the　elder　Harrogate。　　On　the　other　side　of　him　the　grass　partly　hid　Miss　Ethel's　sunshade；　and　just　beyond　it　lay　a　curious　little　glass　bottle　hardly　two　inches　long。　　The　priest　picked　it　up；　in　a　quick；　unobtrusive　manner　he　uncorked　and　sniffed　it；　and　his　heavy　face　turned　the　colour　of　clay。

　　　　　〃Heaven　deliver　us！〃　he　muttered；　〃it　can't　be　hers！　　Has　her　sorrow　come　on　her　already？〃　He　slipped　it　into　his　own　waistcoat　pocket。　　〃I　think　I'm　justified；〃　he　said；　〃till　I　know　a　little　more。〃

　　　　　He　gazed　painfully　at　the　girl；　at　that　moment　being　raised　out　of　the　flowers　by　Muscari；　who　was　saying：　　〃We　have　fallen　into　heaven；　it　is　a　sign。　　Mortals　climb　up　and　they　fall　down；　but　it　is　only　gods　and　goddesses　who　can　fall　upwards。〃

　　　　　And　indeed　she　rose　out　of　the　sea　of　colours　so　beautiful　and　happy　a　vision　that　the　priest　felt　his　suspicion　shaken　and　shifted。　　〃After　all；〃　he　thought；　〃perh