the innocence of father brown-第39章

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seen　Palestine。　　But　it　is　a　great　mistake　to　suppose　that　such　houses　stand　high　in　chivalric　tradition。　　Few　except　the　poor　preserve　traditions。　　Aristocrats　live　not　in　traditions　but　in　fashions。　　The　Bohuns　had　been　Mohocks　under　Queen　Anne　and　Mashers　under　Queen　Victoria。　　But　like　more　than　one　of　the　really　ancient　houses；　they　had　rotted　in　the　last　two　centuries　into　mere　drunkards　and　dandy　degenerates；　till　there　had　even　come　a　whisper　of　insanity。　　Certainly　there　was　something　hardly　human　about　the　colonel's　wolfish　pursuit　of　pleasure；　and　his　chronic　resolution　not　to　go　home　till　morning　had　a　touch　of　the　hideous　clarity　of　insomnia。　　He　was　a　tall；　fine　animal；　elderly；　but　with　hair　still　startlingly　yellow。　　He　would　have　looked　merely　blonde　and　leonine；　but　his　blue　eyes　were　sunk　so　deep　in　his　face　that　they　looked　black。　　They　were　a　little　too　close　together。　　He　had　very　long　yellow　moustaches；　on　each　side　of　them　a　fold　or　furrow　from　nostril　to　jaw；　so　that　a　sneer　seemed　cut　into　his　face。　　Over　his　evening　clothes　he　wore　a　curious　pale　yellow　coat　that　looked　more　like　a　very　light　dressing　gown　than　an　overcoat；　and　on　the　back　of　his　head　was　stuck　an　extraordinary　broad…brimmed　hat　of　a　bright　green　colour；　evidently　some　oriental　curiosity　caught　up　at　random。　　He　was　proud　of　appearing　in　such　incongruous　attiresproud　of　the　fact　that　he　always　made　them　look　congruous。　　　　　His　brother　the　curate　had　also　the　yellow　hair　and　the　elegance；　but　he　was　buttoned　up　to　the　chin　in　black；　and　his　face　was　clean…shaven；　cultivated；　and　a　little　nervous。　　He　seemed　to　live　for　nothing　but　his　religion；　but　there　were　some　who　said　（notably　the　blacksmith；　who　was　a　Presbyterian）　that　it　was　a　love　of　Gothic　architecture　rather　than　of　God；　and　that　his　haunting　of　the　church　like　a　ghost　was　only　another　and　purer　turn　of　the　almost　morbid　thirst　for　beauty　which　sent　his　brother　raging　after　women　and　wine。　　This　charge　was　doubtful；　while　the　man's　practical　piety　was　indubitable。　　Indeed；　the　charge　was　mostly　an　ignorant　misunderstanding　of　the　love　of　solitude　and　secret　prayer；　and　was　founded　on　his　being　often　found　kneeling；　not　before　the　altar；　but　in　peculiar　places；　in　the　crypts　or　gallery；　or　even　in　the　belfry。　　He　was　at　the　moment　about　to　enter　the　church　through　the　yard　of　the　smithy；　but　stopped　and　frowned　a　little　as　he　saw　his　brother's　cavernous　eyes　staring　in　the　same　direction。　　On　the　hypothesis　that　the　colonel　was　interested　in　the　church　he　did　not　waste　any　speculations。　　There　only　remained　the　blacksmith's　shop；　and　though　the　blacksmith　was　a　Puritan　and　none　of　his　people；　Wilfred　Bohun　had　heard　some　scandals　about　a　beautiful　and　rather　celebrated　wife。　　He　flung　a　suspicious　look　across　the　shed；　and　the　colonel　stood　up　laughing　to　speak　to　him。　　　　　〃Good　morning；　Wilfred；〃　he　said。　　〃Like　a　good　landlord　I　am　watching　sleeplessly　over　my　people。　　I　am　going　to　call　on　the　blacksmith。〃　　　　　Wilfred　looked　at　the　ground；　and　said：　〃The　blacksmith　is　out。　He　is　over　at　Greenford。〃　　　　　〃I　know；〃　answered　the　other　with　silent　laughter；　〃that　is　why　I　am　calling　on　him。〃　　　　　〃Norman；〃　said　the　cleric；　with　his　eye　on　a　pebble　in　the　road；　〃are　you　ever　afraid　of　thunderbolts？〃　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　asked　the　colonel。　　〃Is　your　hobby　meteorology？〃　　　　　〃I　mean；〃　said　Wilfred；　without　looking　up；　〃do　you　ever　think　that　God　might　strike　you　in　the　street？〃　　　　　〃I　beg　your　pardon；〃　said　the　colonel；　〃I　see　your　hobby　is　folk…lore。〃　　　　　〃I　know　your　hobby　is　blasphemy；〃　retorted　the　religious　man；　stung　in　the　one　live　place　of　his　nature。　　〃But　if　you　do　not　fear　God；　you　have　good　reason　to　fear　man。〃　　　　　The　elder　raised　his　eyebrows　politely。　　〃Fear　man？〃　he　said。　　　　　〃Barnes　the　blacksmith　is　the　biggest　and　strongest　man　for　forty　miles　round；〃　said　the　clergyman　sternly。　　〃I　know　you　are　no　coward　or　weakling；　but　he　could　throw　you　over　the　wall。〃　　　　　This　struck　home；　being　true；　and　the　lowering　line　by　mouth　and　nostril　darkened　and　deepened。　　For　a　moment　he　stood　with　the　heavy　sneer　on　his　face。　　But　in　an　instant　Colonel　Bohun　had　recovered　his　own　cruel　good　humour　and　laughed；　showing　two　dog…like　front　teeth　under　his　yellow　moustache。　　〃In　that　case；　my　dear　Wilfred；〃　he　said　quite　carelessly；　〃it　was　wise　for　the　last　of　the　Bohuns　to　come　out　partially　in　armour。〃　　　　　And　he　took　off　the　queer　round　hat　covered　with　green；　showing　that　it　was　lined　within　with　steel。　　Wilfred　recognised　it　indeed　as　a　light　Japanese　or　Chinese　helmet　torn　down　from　a　trophy　that　hung　in　the　old　family　hall。　　　　　〃It　was　the　first　hat　to　hand；〃　explained　his　brother　airily；　〃always　the　nearest　hatand　the　nearest　woman。〃　　　　　〃The　blacksmith　is　away　at　Greenford；〃　said　Wilfred　quietly；　〃the　time　of　his　return　is　unsettled。〃　　　　　And　with　that　he　turned　and　went　into　the　church　with　bowed　head；　crossing　himself　like　one　who　wishes　to　be　quit　of　an　unclean　spirit。　　He　was　anxious　to　forget　such　grossness　in　the　cool　twilight　of　his　tall　Gothic　cloisters；　but　on　that　morning　it　was　fated　that　his　still　round　of　religious　exercises　should　be　everywhere　arrested　by　small　shocks。　　As　he　entered　the　church；　hitherto　always　empty　at　that　hour；　a　kneeling　figure　rose　hastily　to　its　feet　and　came　towards　the　full　daylight　of　the　doorway。　When　the　curate　saw　it　he　stood　still　with　surprise。　　For　the　early　worshipper　was　none　other　than　the　village　idiot；　a　nephew　of　the　blacksmith；　one　who　neither　would　nor　could　care　for　the　church　or　for　anything　else。　　He　was　always　called　〃Mad　Joe；〃　and　seemed　to　have　no　other　name；　he　was　a　dark；　strong；　slouching　lad；　with　a　heavy　white　face；　dark　straight　hair；　and　a　mouth　always　open。　　As　he　passed　the　priest；　his　moon…calf　countenance　gave　no　hint　of　what　he　had　been　doing　or　thinking　of。　　He　had　never　been　known　to　pray　before。　　What　sort　of　prayers　was　he　saying　now？　　Extraordinary　prayers　surely。　　　　　Wilfred　Bohun　stood　rooted　to　the　spot　long　enough　to　see　the　idiot　go　out　into　the　sunshine；　and　even　to　see　his　dissolute　brother　hail　him　with　a　sort　of　avuncular　jocularity。　　The　last　thing　he　saw　was　the　colonel　throwing　pennies　at　the　open　mouth　of　Joe；　with　the　serious　appearance　of　trying　to　hit　it。　　　　　This　ugly　sunlit　picture　of　the　stupidity　and　cruelty　of　the　earth　sent　the　ascetic　finally　to　his　prayers　for　purification　and　new　thoughts。　　He　went　up　to　a　pew　in　the　gallery；　which　brought　him　under　a　coloured　window　which　he　loved　and　always　quieted　his　spirit；　a　blue　window　with　an　angel　carrying　lilies。　　There　he　began　to　think　less　about　the　half…wit；　with　his　livid　face　and　mouth　like　a　fish。　　He　began　to　think　less　of　his　evil　brother；　pacing　like　a　lean　lion　in　his　horrible　hunger。　　He　sank　deeper　and　deeper　into　those　cold　and　sweet　colours　of　silver　blossoms　and　sapphire　sky。　　　　　In　this　place　half　an　hour　afterwards　he　was　found　by　Gibbs；　the　village　cobbler；　who　had　been　sent　for　him　in　some　haste。　　He　got　to　his　feet　with　promptitude；　for　he　knew　that　no　small　matter　would　have　brought　Gibbs　into　such　a　place　at　all。　　The　cobbler　was；　as　in　many　villages；　an　atheist；　and　his　appearance　in　church　was　a　shade　more　extraordinary　than　Mad　Joe's。　　It　was　a　morning　of　theological　enigmas。　　　　　〃What　is　it？〃　asked　Wilfred　Bohun　rather　stiffly；　but　putting　out　a　trembling　hand　for　his　hat。　　　　　The　atheist　spoke　in　a　tone　that；　coming　from　him；　was　quite　startlingly　respectful；　and　even；　as　it　were；　huskily　sympathetic。　　　　　〃You　must　excuse　me；　sir；〃　he　said　in　a　hoarse　whisper；　〃but　we　didn't　think　it　right　not　to　let　you　know　at　once。　　I'm　afraid　a　rather　dreadful　thing　has　happened；　sir。　　I'm　afraid　your　brother〃　　　　　Wilfred　clenched　his　frail　hands。　　〃What　devilry　has　he　done　now？〃　he　cried　in　voluntary　passion。　　　　　〃Why；　sir；〃　said　the　cobbler；　coughing；　〃I'm　afraid　he's　done　nothing；　and　won't　do　anything。　　I'm　afraid　he's　done　for。　　You　had　really　better　come　down；　sir。〃　　　　　The　curate　followed　the　cobbler　down　a　short　winding　stair　which　brought　them　out　at　an　entrance　rather　higher　than　the　street。　　Bohun　saw　the　tragedy　in　one　glance；　flat　underneath　him　like　a　plan。　　In　the　yard　of　the　smithy　were　standing　five　or