the wisdom of father brown-第6节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


s　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；　〃perhaps　the　poison　isn't　hers；　perhaps　it's　one　of　Muscari's　melodramatic　tricks。〃

　　　　　Muscari　set　the　lady　lightly　on　her　feet；　made　her　an　absurdly　theatrical　bow；　and　then；　drawing　his　cutlass；　hacked　hard　at　the　taut　reins　of　the　horses；　so　that　they　scrambled　to　their　feet　and　stood　in　the　grass　trembling。　　When　he　had　done　so；　a　most　remarkable　thing　occurred。　　A　very　quiet　man；　very　poorly　dressed　and　extremely　sunburnt；　came　out　of　the　bushes　and　took　hold　of　the　horses'　heads。　　He　had　a　queer…shaped　knife；　very　broad　and　crooked；　buckled　on　his　belt；　there　was　nothing　else　remarkable　about　him；　except　his　sudden　and　silent　appearance。　　The　poet　asked　him　who　he　was；　and　he　did　not　answer。

　　　　　Looking　around　him　at　the　confused　and　startled　group　in　the　hollow；　Muscari　then　perceived　that　another　tanned　and　tattered　man；　with　a　short　gun　under　his　arm；　was　looking　at　them　from　the　ledge　just　below；　leaning　his　elbows　on　the　edge　of　the　turf。　　Then　he　looked　up　at　the　road　from　which　they　had　fallen　and　saw；　looking　down　on　them；　the　muzzles　of　four　other　carbines　and　four　other　brown　faces　with　bright　but　quite　motionless　eyes。

　　　　　〃The　brigands！〃　cried　Muscari；　with　a　kind　of　monstrous　gaiety。　　〃This　was　a　trap。　　Ezza；　if　you　will　oblige　me　by　shooting　the　coachman　first；　we　can　cut　our　way　out　yet。　　There　are　only　six　of　them。〃

　　　　　〃The　coachman；〃　said　Ezza；　who　was　standing　grimly　with　his　hands　in　his　pockets；　〃happens　to　be　a　servant　of　Mr　Harrogate's。〃

　　　　　〃Then　shoot　him　all　the　more；〃　cried　the　poet　impatiently；　〃he　was　bribed　to　upset　his　master。　　Then　put　the　lady　in　the　middle；　and　we　will　break　the　line　up　therewith　a　rush。〃

　　　　　And；　wading　in　wild　grass　and　flowers；　he　advanced　fearlessly　on　the　four　carbines；　but　finding　that　no　one　followed　except　young　Harrogate；　he　turned；　brandishing　his　cutlass　to　wave　the　others　on。　　He　beheld　the　courier　still　standing　slightly　astride　in　the　centre　of　the　grassy　ring；　his　hands　in　his　pockets；　and　his　lean；　ironical　Italian　face　seemed　to　grow　longer　and　longer　in　the　evening　light。

　　　　　〃You　thought；　Muscari；　I　was　the　failure　among　our　schoolfellows；〃　he　said；　〃and　you　thought　you　were　the　success。　　But　I　have　succeeded　more　than　you　and　fill　a　bigger　place　in　history。　　I　have　been　acting　epics　while　you　have　been　writing　them。〃

　　　　　〃Come　on；　I　tell　you！〃　thundered　Muscari　from　above。　　〃Will　you　stand　there　talking　nonsense　about　yourself　with　a　woman　to　save　and　three　strong　men　to　help　you？　　What　do　you　call　yourself？〃

　　　　　〃I　call　myself　Montano；〃　cried　the　strange　courier　in　a　voice　equally　loud　and　full。　　〃I　am　the　King　of　Thieves；　and　I　welcome　you　all　to　my　summer　palace。〃

　　　　　And　even　as　he　spoke　five　more　silent　men　with　weapons　ready　came　out　of　the　bushes；　and　looked　towards　him　for　their　orders。　　One　of　them　held　a　large　paper　in　his　hand。

　　　　　〃This　pretty　little　nest　where　we　are　all　picnicking；〃　went　on　the　courier…brigand；　with　the　same　easy　yet　sinister　smile；　〃is；　together　with　some　caves　underneath　it；　known　by　the　name　of　the　Paradise　of　Thieves。　　It　is　my　principal　stronghold　on　these　hills；　for　（as　you　have　doubtless　noticed）　the　eyrie　is　invisible　both　from　the　road　above　and　from　the　valley　below。　　It　is　something　better　than　impregnable；　it　is　unnoticeable。　　Here　I　mostly　live；　and　here　I　shall　certainly　die；　if　the　gendarmes　ever　track　me　here。　　I　am　not　the　kind　of　criminal　that　‘reserves　his　defence；'　but　the　better　kind　that　reserves　his　last　bullet。〃

　　　　　All　were　staring　at　him　thunderstruck　and　still；　except　Father　Brown；　who　heaved　a　huge　sigh　as　of　relief　and　fingered　the　little　phial　in　his　pocket。　　〃Thank　God！〃　he　muttered；　〃that's　much　more　probable。　　The　poison　belongs　to　this　robber…chief；　of　course。　　He　carries　it　so　that　he　may　never　be　captured；　like　Cato。〃

　　　　　The　King　of　Thieves　was；　however；　continuing　his　address　with　the　same　kind　of　dangerous　politeness。　　〃It　only　remains　for　me；〃　he　said；　〃to　explain　to　my　guests　the　social　conditions　upon　which　I　have　the　pleasure　of　entertaining　them。　　I　need　not　expound　the　quaint　old　ritual　of　ransom；　which　it　is　incumben