"Г.К.Честертон. The Scandal of Father Brown " - читать интересную книгу автора

decency and common sense. My sympathies are with poor Potter, a plain
straightforward broker from Pittsburgh, who thinks he has a right to his own
home. And he's making a fight for it, too. I heard him hollering at the
management, telling them to keep that rascal out; and quite right too. The
people here seem a sly and slinky lot; but I rather fancy he's put the fear
of God into them already.'
'As a matter of fact,' said Father Brown, 'I rather agree with you
about the manager and the men in this hotel; but you mustn't judge all
Mexicans by them. Also I fancy the gentleman you speak of has not only
hollered, but handed round dollars enough to get the whole staff on his
side. I saw them locking doors and whispering most excitedly. By the way,
your plain straightforward friend seems to have a lot of money.'
'I've no doubt his business does well,' said Rock. 'He's quite the best
type of sound business man. What do you mean?'
'I fancied it might suggest another thought to you,' said Father Brown;
and, rising with rather heavy civility, he left the room.
Rock watched the Potters very carefully that evening at dinner; and
gained some new impressions, though none that disturbed his deep sense of
the wrong that probably threatened the peace of the Potter home. Potter
himself proved worthy of somewhat closer study; though the journalist had at
first accepted him as prosaic and unpretentious, there was a pleasure in
recognizing finer lines in what he considered the hero or victim of a
tragedy. Potter had really rather a thoughtful and distinguished face,
though worried and occasionally petulant. Rock got an impression that the
man was recovering from an illness; his faded hair was thin but rather long,
as if it had been lately neglected, and his rather unusual beard gave the
onlooker the same notion. Certainly he spoke once or twice to his wife in a
rather sharp and acid manner, fussing about tablets or some detail of
digestive science; but his real worry was doubtless concerned with the
danger from without. His wife played up to him in the splendid if somewhat
condescending manner of a Patient Griselda; but her eyes also roamed
continually to the doors and shutters, as if in half - hearted fear of an
invasion. Rock had only too good reason to dread, after her curious
outbreak, the fact that her fear might turn out to be only half - hearted.
It was in the middle of the night that the extraordinary event
occurred. Rock, imagining himself to be the last to go up to bed, was
surprised to find Father Brown still tucked obscurely under an orange - tree
in the hall, and placidly reading a book. He returned the other's farewell
without further words, and the journalist had his foot on the lowest step of
the stair, when suddenly the outer door sprang on its hinges and shook and
rattled under the shock of blows planted from without; and a great voice
louder than the blows was heard violently demanding admission. Somehow the
journalist was certain that the blows had been struck with a pointed stick
like an alpenstock. He looked back at the darkened lower floor, and saw the
servants of the hotel sliding here and there to see that the doors were
locked; and not unlocking them. Then he slowly mounted to his room, and sat
down furiously to write his report.
He described the siege of the hotel; the evil atmosphere; the shabby
luxury of the place; the shifty evasions of the priest; above all, that
terrible voice crying without, like a wolf prowling round the house. Then,