the innocence of father brown-第30章

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us　stones　on　his　estate。　Somebody　had　bamboozled　him　with　those　loose　brilliants；　saying　they　were　found　in　the　castle　caverns。　　The　little　wheels　are　some　diamond…cutting　affair。　　He　had　to　do　the　thing　very　roughly　and　in　a　small　way；　with　the　help　of　a　few　shepherds　or　rude　fellows　on　these　hills。　　Snuff　is　the　one　great　luxury　of　such　Scotch　shepherds；　it's　the　one　thing　with　which　you　can　bribe　them。　　They　didn't　have　candlesticks　because　they　didn't　want　them；　they　held　the　candles　in　their　hands　when　they　explored　the　caves。〃　　　　　〃Is　that　all？〃　asked　Flambeau　after　a　long　pause。　　〃Have　we　got　to　the　dull　truth　at　last？〃　　　　　〃Oh；　no；〃　said　Father　Brown。　　　　　As　the　wind　died　in　the　most　distant　pine　woods　with　a　long　hoot　as　of　mockery　Father　Brown；　with　an　utterly　impassive　face；　went　on：　　　　　〃I　only　suggested　that　because　you　said　one　could　not　plausibly　connect　snuff　with　clockwork　or　candles　with　bright　stones。　　Ten　false　philosophies　will　fit　the　universe；　ten　false　theories　will　fit　Glengyle　Castle。　　But　we　want　the　real　explanation　of　the　castle　and　the　universe。　　But　are　there　no　other　exhibits？〃　　　　　Craven　laughed；　and　Flambeau　rose　smiling　to　his　feet　and　strolled　down　the　long　table。　　　　　〃Items　five；　six；　seven；　etc。；〃　he　said；　〃and　certainly　more　varied　than　instructive。　　A　curious　collection；　not　of　lead　pencils；　but　of　the　lead　out　of　lead　pencils。　　A　senseless　stick　of　bamboo；　with　the　top　rather　splintered。　　It　might　be　the　instrument　of　the　crime。　　Only；　there　isn't　any　crime。　　The　only　other　things　are　a　few　old　missals　and　little　Catholic　pictures；　which　the　Ogilvies　kept；　I　suppose；　from　the　Middle　Agestheir　family　pride　being　stronger　than　their　Puritanism。　　We　only　put　them　in　the　museum　because　they　seem　curiously　cut　about　and　defaced。〃　　　　　The　heady　tempest　without　drove　a　dreadful　wrack　of　clouds　across　Glengyle　and　threw　the　long　room　into　darkness　as　Father　Brown　picked　up　the　little　illuminated　pages　to　examine　them。　　He　spoke　before　the　drift　of　darkness　had　passed；　but　it　was　the　voice　of　an　utterly　new　man。　　　　　〃Mr。　Craven；〃　said　he；　talking　like　a　man　ten　years　younger；　〃you　have　got　a　legal　warrant；　haven't　you；　to　go　up　and　examine　that　grave？　　The　sooner　we　do　it　the　better；　and　get　to　the　bottom　of　this　horrible　affair。　　If　I　were　you　I　should　start　now。〃　　　　　〃Now；〃　repeated　the　astonished　detective；　〃and　why　now？〃　　　　　〃Because　this　is　serious；〃　answered　Brown；　〃this　is　not　spilt　snuff　or　loose　pebbles；　that　might　be　there　for　a　hundred　reasons。　There　is　only　one　reason　I　know　of　for　this　being　done；　and　the　reason　goes　down　to　the　roots　of　the　world。　　These　religious　pictures　are　not　just　dirtied　or　torn　or　scrawled　over；　which　might　be　done　in　idleness　or　bigotry；　by　children　or　by　Protestants。　　These　have　been　treated　very　carefullyand　very　queerly。　　In　every　place　where　the　great　ornamented　name　of　God　comes　in　the　old　illuminations　it　has　been　elaborately　taken　out。　The　only　other　thing　that　has　been　removed　is　the　halo　round　the　head　of　the　Child　Jesus。　　Therefore；　I　say；　let　us　get　our　warrant　and　our　spade　and　our　hatchet；　and　go　up　and　break　open　that　coffin。〃　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　demanded　the　London　officer。　　　　　〃I　mean；〃　answered　the　little　priest；　and　his　voice　seemed　to　rise　slightly　in　the　roar　of　the　gale。　　〃I　mean　that　the　great　devil　of　the　universe　may　be　sitting　on　the　top　tower　of　this　castle　at　this　moment；　as　big　as　a　hundred　elephants；　and　roaring　like　the　Apocalypse。　　There　is　black　magic　somewhere　at　the　bottom　of　this。〃　　　　　〃Black　magic；〃　repeated　Flambeau　in　a　low　voice；　for　he　was　too　enlightened　a　man　not　to　know　of　such　things；　〃but　what　can　these　other　things　mean？〃　　　　　〃Oh；　something　damnable；　I　suppose；〃　replied　Brown　impatiently。　〃How　should　I　know？　　How　can　I　guess　all　their　mazes　down　below？　Perhaps　you　can　make　a　torture　out　of　snuff　and　bamboo。　　Perhaps　lunatics　lust　after　wax　and　steel　filings。　　Perhaps　there　is　a　maddening　drug　made　of　lead　pencils！　　Our　shortest　cut　to　the　mystery　is　up　the　hill　to　the　grave。〃　　　　　His　comrades　hardly　knew　that　they　had　obeyed　and　followed　him　till　a　blast　of　the　night　wind　nearly　flung　them　on　their　faces　in　the　garden。　　Nevertheless　they　had　obeyed　him　like　automata；　for　Craven　found　a　hatchet　in　his　hand；　and　the　warrant　in　his　pocket；　Flambeau　was　carrying　the　heavy　spade　of　the　strange　gardener；　Father　Brown　was　carrying　the　little　gilt　book　from　which　had　been　torn　the　name　of　God。　　　　　The　path　up　the　hill　to　the　churchyard　was　crooked　but　short；　only　under　that　stress　of　wind　it　seemed　laborious　and　long。　　Far　as　the　eye　could　see；　farther　and　farther　as　they　mounted　the　slope；　were　seas　beyond　seas　of　pines；　now　all　aslope　one　way　under　the　wind。　　And　that　universal　gesture　seemed　as　vain　as　it　was　vast；　as　vain　as　if　that　wind　were　whistling　about　some　unpeopled　and　purposeless　planet。　　Through　all　that　infinite　growth　of　grey…blue　forests　sang；　shrill　and　high；　that　ancient　sorrow　that　is　in　the　heart　of　all　heathen　things。　　One　could　fancy　that　the　voices　from　the　under　world　of　unfathomable　foliage　were　cries　of　the　lost　and　wandering　pagan　gods：　gods　who　had　gone　roaming　in　that　irrational　forest；　and　who　will　never　find　their　way　back　to　heaven。　　　　　〃You　see；〃　said　Father　Brown　in　low　but　easy　tone；　〃Scotch　people　before　Scotland　existed　were　a　curious　lot。　　In　fact；　they're　a　curious　lot　still。　　But　in　the　prehistoric　times　I　fancy　they　really　worshipped　demons。　　That；〃　he　added　genially；　〃is　why　they　jumped　at　the　Puritan　theology。〃　　　　　〃My　friend；〃　said　Flambeau；　turning　in　a　kind　of　fury；　〃what　does　all　that　snuff　mean？〃　　　　　〃My　friend；〃　replied　Brown；　with　equal　seriousness；　〃there　is　one　mark　of　all　genuine　religions：　materialism。　　Now；　devil…worship　is　a　perfectly　genuine　religion。〃　　　　　They　had　come　up　on　the　grassy　scalp　of　the　hill；　one　of　the　few　bald　spots　that　stood　clear　of　the　crashing　and　roaring　pine　forest。　　A　mean　enclosure；　partly　timber　and　partly　wire；　rattled　in　the　tempest　to　tell　them　the　border　of　the　graveyard。　　But　by　the　time　Inspector　Craven　had　come　to　the　corner　of　the　grave；　and　Flambeau　had　planted　his　spade　point　downwards　and　leaned　on　it；　they　were　both　almost　as　shaken　as　the　shaky　wood　and　wire。　At　the　foot　of　the　grave　grew　great　tall　thistles；　grey　and　silver　in　their　decay。　　Once　or　twice；　when　a　ball　of　thistledown　broke　under　the　breeze　and　flew　past　him；　Craven　jumped　slightly　as　if　it　had　been　an　arrow。　　　　　Flambeau　drove　the　blade　of　his　spade　through　the　whistling　grass　into　the　wet　clay　below。　　Then　he　seemed　to　stop　and　lean　on　it　as　on　a　staff。　　　　　〃Go　on；〃　said　the　priest　very　gently。　　〃We　are　only　trying　to　find　the　truth。　　What　are　you　afraid　of？〃　　　　　〃I　am　afraid　of　finding　it；〃　said　Flambeau。　　　　　The　London　detective　spoke　suddenly　in　a　high　crowing　voice　that　was　meant　to　be　conversational　and　cheery。　　〃I　wonder　why　he　really　did　hide　himself　like　that。　　Something　nasty；　I　suppose；　was　he　a　leper？〃　　　　　〃Something　worse　than　that；〃　said　Flambeau。　　　　　〃And　what　do　you　imagine；〃　asked　the　other；　〃would　be　worse　than　a　leper？〃　　　　　〃I　don't　imagine　it；〃　said　Flambeau。　　　　　He　dug　for　some　dreadful　minutes　in　silence；　and　then　said　in　a　choked　voice；