The Washington herald., 1914-02-08
and Sir Claude Champion was mono

maniac.
The crisis came when ! persuaded
John to let me take down some of his
speculations and send them to a maga-
zine. They began to attract attention,
especially in America: and one paper
wanted to interview him. When Cham
pion (who was interviewed nearly
every day. heard OF this late little
crumb of success falling to bis uncon-
scious rival, the last link snapped that
held back his devilish hatred. Then
lie began to lay that insane siege TO
my own love end honor which has been
the talk of the shire. You will ask
me why / allowed such atrocious at
tentions. | answer that | could not
have declined them except by explain
things the soul cannot do, as the body
cannot hy. Nobody could have ex-
planned TO my husband Nobody could
do it now. Well, John was to come and
See US act this evening, but. Just as we
were starting, he said he wouldn't-he
had got an interesting book and a
cigar. l told this to Sir Claude, and
It was his deathblow. He stabbed him
self, crying out like devil that Boul-
nois was Staying him. He lies there in
the garden, dead OF his own jealousy
to produce Jealousy and John is sitting
in the dining-room reading L book"
There was another silence, and then
! the little priest said:
There is only one weak point. Mrs.
Boulnois. in all your very vivid ac-
count. Your husband is not sitting in
the diningroOm reading book. That
American reporter told me he had
been TO your house and your butler told
him MIR. Boulnois had gone to PEN
dragon Park, after all
Her bright eyes widcncd to an al
most electric glare and yet IL seemed
rather bewilderment than confusion or
fear
why, what can you mcan.' she
cried. "All the servants were out of
the house, seeing the theatricals. And we
don't keep butler, frank goodness
Father Brown started and spun half
round like an absurd teetotum.
"What-what: he cried, seeming
galvanized into sudden lie. Look
herc-I say-can | make your husband
hear if | go to the house,
oh, the servants will be back by
now" she said, wondering.
Right. right" rejoined the clcrie
energetically, and set off scuttlinS up
the path toward the Park gates. He
turned once 10 say:
Better get hold OF that Yankee, or
Crime OF John BouInois' will be all
over the republic in large letters
You don't understand said Mrs.
Buolnois. He wouldn't mind. | don't
think he inagines that America really
is 4 place
When Father Brown reached the
house a small and neat maidservant
showed film into the dining-roon,
where Boulnois sat reading by
shaded lamp, exactly as his wife de-
scribed him. \ dccanter OF port and
! a wineglass were at his elbow and, the
instant the priest entered. he noted
! the long ash stand out unbroken on his
cigar
/ ''He has been here for half an hour
at least" thought Father Brown.
! Don't get up, MIR. BoulnoiS.' said
! the priest. in his pleasant. proSaic way.
= Il Sha'nt interrupt you a moment. |
fear break in one some OF your SCI
| entifc studies
Mo- said Boulnois: Il was reading
The Bloody Thumb He laid down
CORY yellow "shockcr' without even
feeling its incongruity enough to COM
ment ON it humorously
! John BoulnoiS was big. SlOw-mov-
| ing man with a massive head partly
gray and partly bald. and blunt. burly
! features He was in shabby and very
old-fashioned evening dress, with
narrow triangular opening OF shirt
/ front. He never put the suit on but
once in decade and it was many dec
AIDES old: he had assumed il that even
ing in his original purpose OF going 10
see his wife act Juliet, He had long
! since forgotten what clothes he was
wearing.
Il won't keep YOU long from the
Bloody Thumb or any other cataStro-
phic affairs" said Father Brown, smil-
ing; Il only came TO ask you about the
| crime YOU committed this evening.
Boulnois looked at him steadily; but
a red bar began to show across his
broad brow, and he seemed like one
discovering embarrassment for the first
time
Il know it was strange crime as
scented Brown in a low voice. Stranger
than murder, perhaps-to you. The
| little sins are sometimes harder 10 con-
| feSs than the big Ones-but that's why
! its so important to confess them.
1T makes one feel" said the philoso-
phcr slowly. such fool.
Il know" assented the other: but
one often has to choose between feel
ing a fool and bein. one.
Il can't analyze myself WELL, went
on Boulnois: but. sitting in that chair
with that story, was as happy as
schoolboy on half holiday. 1t was
| security, eternity can't convey 1t.
The cigars were within reach
the matches were within reach.
Then that bell rang, and thought for
ono long mortal minute that couldn't
get out OF that chair-literaliy. physi-
cally. muscularly couldn't. Then | did
it. like man lifting the world, be-
J cause | knew all the servants were out.
opened the front door, and there was
little man with his mouth open to
! speak and his notebook open to write
| in. | remembered the Yankee inter
viewer | had forgotten. His hair was
parted in the middle, and i tell you
that murder-"
Il understand said Father Brown;
''lve seen him.
Il didn't commit murder" continued
the Catastrophist mildly; but only
perjury. | said | had gone across to
/ Pendragon Park, and shut the door III
his face. That is my ernie, Father
Brown, and don't know what penance
you would inf1ict for it.