the man who knew too much-第5部分

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ughter　before　my　eyes。　Oh；　I　don't　say　their　laughter's　quite　innocent；　though　it's　genuine　in　its　way。　They　want　old　Jink；　and　they　couldn't　do　without　him。　I　don't　say　I'm　quite　innocent。　I　like　Hoggs；　I　don't　want　him　to　be　down　and　out；　and　he'd　be　done　for　if　Jink　can't　pay　for　his　coronet。　They　were　devilish　near　the　line　at　the　last　election。　But　the　only　real　objection　to　it　is　that　it's　impossible。　Nobody　would　believe　it；　it's　not　in　the　picture。　The　crooked　weathercock　would　always　turn　it　into　a　joke。〃

〃Don't　you　think　this　is　infamous？〃　asked　March；　quietly。

〃I　think　a　good　many　things；〃　replied　the　other。　〃If　you　people　ever　happen　to　blow　the　whole　tangle　of　society　to　hell　with　dynamite；　I　don't　know　that　the　human　race　will　be　much　the　worse。　But　don't　be　too　hard　on　me　merely　because　I　know　what　society　is。　That's　why　I　moon　away　my　time　over　things　like　stinking　fish。〃

There　was　a　pause　as　he　settled　himself　down　again　by　the　stream；　and　then　he　added：

〃I　told　you　before　I　had　to　throw　back　the　big　fish。〃



II。　THE　VANISHING　PRINCE

This　tale　begins　among　a　tangle　of　tales　round　a　name　that　is　at　once　recent　and　legendary。　The　name　is　that　of　Michael　O'Neill；　popularly　called　Prince　Michael；　partly　because　he　claimed　descent　from　ancient　Fenian　princes；　and　partly　because　he　was　credited　with　a　plan　to　make　himself　prince　president　of　Ireland；　as　the　last　Napoleon　did　of　France。　He　was　undoubtedly　a　gentleman　of　honorable　pedigree　and　of　many　accomplishments；　but　two　of　his　accomplishments　emerged　from　all　the　rest。　He　had　a　talent　for　appearing　when　he　was　not　wanted　and　a　talent　for　disappearing　when　he　was　wanted；　especially　when　he　was　wanted　by　the　police。　It　may　be　added　that　his　disappearances　were　more　dangerous　than　his　appearances。　In　the　latter　he　seldom　went　beyond　the　sensationalpasting　up　seditious　placards；　tearing　down　official　placards；　making　flamboyant　speeches；　or　unfurling　forbidden　flags。　But　in　order　to　effect　the　former　he　would　sometimes　fight　for　his　freedom　with　startling　energy；　from　which　men　were　sometimes　lucky　to　escape　with　a　broken　head　instead　of　a　broken　neck。　His　most　famous　feats　of　escape；　however；　were　due　to　dexterity　and　not　to　violence。　On　a　cloudless　summer　morning　he　had　come　down　a　country　road　white　with　dust；　and；　pausing　outside　a　farmhouse；　had　told　the　farmer's　daughter；　with　elegant　indifference；　that　the　local　police　were　in　pursuit　of　him。　The　girl's　name　was　Bridget　Royce；　a　somber　and　even　sullen　type　of　beauty；　and　she　looked　at　him　darkly；　as　if　in　doubt；　and　said；　〃Do　you　want　me　to　hide　you？〃　Upon　which　he　only　laughed；　leaped　lightly　over　the　stone　wall；　and　strode　toward　the　farm；　merely　throwing　over　his　shoulder　the　remark；　〃Thank　you；　I　have　generally　been　quite　capable　of　hiding　myself。〃　In　which　proceeding　he　acted　with　a　tragic　ignorance　of　the　nature　of　women；　and　there　fell　on　his　path　in　that　sunshine　a　shadow　of　doom。

While　he　disappeared　through　the　farmhouse　the　girl　remained　for　a　few　moments　looking　up　the　road；　and　two　perspiring　policemen　came　plowing　up　to　the　door　where　she　stood。　Though　still　angry；　she　was　still　silent；　and　a　quarter　of　an　hour　later　the　officers　had　searched　the　house　and　were　already　inspecting　the　kitchen　garden　and　cornfield　behind　it。　In　the　ugly　reaction　of　her　mood　she　might　have　been　tempted　even　to　point　out　the　fugitive；　but　for　a　small　difficulty　that　she　had　no　more　notion　than　the　policemen　　had　of　where　he　could　possibly　have　gone。　The　kitchen　garden　was　inclosed　by　a　very　low　wall；　and　the　cornfield　beyond　lay　aslant　like　a　square　patch　on　a　great　green　hill　on　which　he　could　still　have　been　seen　even　as　a　dot　in　the　distance。　Everything　stood　solid　in　its　familiar　place；　the　apple　tree　was　too　small　to　support　or　hide　a　climber；　the　only　shed　stood　open　and　obviously　empty；　there　was　no　sound　save　the　droning　of　summer　flies　and　the　occasional　flutter　of　a　bird　unfamiliar　enough　to　be　surprised　by　the　scarecrow　in　the　field；　there　was　scarcely　a　shadow　save　a　few　blue　lines　that　fell　from　the　thin　tree；　every　detail　was　picked　out　by　the　brilliant　day　light　as　if　in　a　microscope。　The　girl　described　the　scene　later；　with　all　the　passionate　realism　of　her　race；　and；　whether　or　no　the　policemen　had　a　similar　eye　for　the　picturesque；　they　had　at　least　an　eye　for　the　facts　of　the　case；　and　were　compelled　to　give　up　the　chase　and　retire　from　the　scene。　Bridget　Royce　remained　as　if　in　a　trance；　staring　at　the　sunlit　garden　in　which　a　man　had　just　vanished　like　a　fairy。　She　was　still　in　a　sinister　mood；　and　the　miracle　took　in　her　mind　a　character　of　unfriendliness　and　fear；　as　if　the　fairy　were　decidedly　a　bad　fairy。　The　sun　upon　the　glittering　garden　depressed　her　more　than　the　darkness；　but　she　continued　to　stare　at　it。　Then　the　world　itself　went　half…witted　and　she　screamed。　The　scarecrow　moved　in　the　sun　　light。　It　had　stood　with　its　back　to　her　in　a　battered　old　black　hat　and　a　tattered　garment；　and　with　all　its　tatters　flying；　it　strode　away　across　the　hill。

She　did　not　analyze　the　audacious　trick　by　which　the　man　had　turned　to　his　advantage　the　subtle　effects　of　the　expected　and　the　obvious；　she　was　still　under　the　cloud　of　more　individual　complexities；　and　she　noticed　must　of　all　that　the　vanishing　scarecrow　did　not　even　turn　to　look　at　the　farm。　And　the　fates　that　were　running　so　adverse　to　his　fantastic　career　of　freedom　ruled　that　his　next　adventure；　though　it　had　the　same　success　in　another　quarter；　should　increase　the　danger　in　this　quarter。　Among　the　many　similar　adventures　related　of　him　in　this　manner　it　is　also　said　that　some　days　afterward　another　girl；　named　Mary　Cregan；　found　him　concealed　on　the　farm　where　she　worked；　and　if　the　story　is　true；　she　must　also　have　had　the　shock　of　an　uncanny　experience；　for　when　she　was　busy　at　some　lonely　task　in　the　yard　she　heard　a　voice　speaking　out　of　the　well；　and　found　that　the　eccentric　had　managed　to　drop　himself　into　the　bucket　which　was　some　little　way　below；　the　well　only　partly　full　of　water。　In　this　case；　however；　he　had　to　appeal　to　the　woman　to　wind　up　the　rope。　And　men　say　it　was　when　this　news　was　told　to　the　other　woman　that　her　soul　walked　over　the　border　line　of　treason。

Such；　at　least；　were　the　stories　told　of　him　in　the　countryside；　and　there　were　many　moreas　that　he　had　stood　insolently　in　a　splendid　green　dressing　gown　on　the　steps　of　a　great　hotel；　and　then　led　the　police　a　chase　through　a　long　suite　of　grand　apartments；　and　finally　through　his　own　bedroom　on　to　a　balcony　that　overhung　the　river。　The　moment　the　pursuers　stepped　on　to　the　balcony　it　broke　under　them；　and　they　dropped　pell…mell　into　the　eddying　waters；　while　Michael；　who　had　thrown　off　his　gown　and　dived；　was　able　to　swim　away。　It　was　said　that　he　had　carefully　cut　away　the　props　so　that　they　would　not　support　anything　so　heavy　as　a　policeman。　But　here　again　he　was　immediately　fortunate；　yet　ultimately　unfortunate；　for　it　is　said　that　one　of　the　men　was　drowned；　leaving　a　family　feud　which　made　a　little　rift　in　his　popularity。　These　stories　can　now　be　told　in　some　detail；　not　because　they　are　the　most　marvelous　of　his　many　adventures；　but　because　these　alone　were　not　covered　with　silence　by　the　loyalty　of　the　peasantry。　These　alone　found　their　way　into　official　reports；　and　it　is　these　which　three　of　the　chief　officials　of　the　country　were　reading　and　discussing　when　the　more　remarkable　part　of　this　story　begins。

Night　was　far　advanced　and　the　lights　shone　in　the　cottage　that　served　for　a　temporary　police　station　near　the　coast。　On　one　side　of　it　were　the　last　houses　of　the　straggling　village；　and　on　the　other　nothing　but　a　waste　moorland　stretching　away　toward　the　sea；　the　line　of　which　was　broken　by　no　landmark　except　a　solitary　tower　of　the　prehistoric　pattern　still　found　in　Ireland；　standing　up　as　slender　as　a　column；　but　pointed　like　a　pyramid。　At　a　wooden　table　in　front　of　the　window；　which　normally　looked　out　on　this　landscape；　sat　two　men　in　plain　clothes；　but　with　something　of　a　military　bearing；　for　indeed　they　were　the　two　chiefs　of　the　detective　service　of　that　district。　The　senior　of　the　two；　both　in　age　and　rank；　was　a　sturdy　man　with　a　short　white　beard；　and　frosty　eyebrows　fixed　in　a　frown　which　suggested　rather　worry　than　severity。

His　name　was　Morton；　and　he　was　a　Liverpool　man　long　pickled　in　the　Irish　quarrels；　and　doing　his　duty　among　them　in　a　sour　fashion　not　altogether　unsympathetic。　He　had　spoken　a　few　sentences　to　his　companion；　Nolan；　a　tall；　dark　man　with　a　cadaverous　equine　Irish　face；　when　he　seemed　to　remember　something　and　touched　a　bell　which　rang　in　another　room。　The　subordinate　he　had　summoned　immediately　appeared　with　a　sheaf　of　papers　in　his　hand。

〃Sit　down；　Wilson；〃　he　said。　〃Those　are　the　dispositions；　I　suppose。〃

〃Yes；〃　replied　the　third　officer。　〃I　think　I've　got　all　there　is　to　be　got　out　of　them；　so　I　sent　the　people　away。〃

〃Did　Mary　Cregan　give　evidence？〃　asked　Morton；　with　a　frown　that　looked　a　little　heavier　than　usual。

〃No；　but　her　master　did；〃　answered　the　man　called　Wilson；　who　had　flat；　red　hair　and　a　plain；　pale　face；　not　without　sharpness。　〃I　think　he's　hanging　round　the　girl　himself　and　is　out　against　a　rival。　There's　always　some　reason　of　that　sort　when　we　are　told　the　truth　about　anything。　And　you　bet　the　other　girl　told　right　enough。〃

〃Well；　let's　hope　they'll　be　some　sort　of　use；〃　remarked　Nolan；　in　a　somewhat　hopeless　manner；　gazing　out　into　the　darkness。

〃Anything　is　to　the　good；〃　said　Morton；　〃that　lets　us　know　anything　about　him。〃

〃Do　we　know　anything　about　him？〃　asked　the　melancholy　Irishman。

〃We　know　one　thing　about　him；〃　said　Wilson；　〃and　it's　the　one　thing　that　nobody　ever　knew　before。　We　know　where　be　is。〃

〃Are　you　sure？〃　inquired　Morton；　looking　at　him　sharply。

〃Quite　sure；〃　replied　his　assistant。　〃At　this　very　minute　he　is　in　that　tower　over　there　by　the　shore。　If　you　go　near　enough　you'll　see　the　candle　burning　in　the　window。〃

As　he　spoke　the　noise　of　a　horn　sounded　on　the　road　outside；　and　a　moment　after　they　heard　the　throbbing　of　a　motor　car　brought　to　a　standstill　before　the　door。　Morton　instantly　sprang　to　his　feet。　tly　sprang　to　his　fee