The　green　branch　on　which　the　glittering　figure　swung；　rustled　as　if　in　astonishment；　but　the　voice　went　on：　　　　　〃I　want　you　to　give　them　back；　Flambeau；　and　I　want　you　to　give　up　this　life。　　There　is　still　youth　and　honour　and　humour　in　you；　don't　fancy　they　will　last　in　that　trade。　　Men　may　keep　a　sort　of　level　of　good；　but　no　man　has　ever　been　able　to　keep　on　one　level　of　evil。　　That　road　goes　down　and　down。　　The　kind　man　drinks　and　turns　cruel；　the　frank　man　kills　and　lies　about　it。　　Many　a　man　I've　known　started　like　you　to　be　an　honest　outlaw；　a　merry　robber　of　the　rich；　and　ended　stamped　into　slime。　　Maurice　Blum　started　out　as　an　anarchist　of　principle；　a　father　of　the　poor；　he　ended　a　greasy　spy　and　tale…bearer　that　both　sides　used　and　despised。　Harry　Burke　started　his　free　money　movement　sincerely　enough；　now　he's　sponging　on　a　half…starved　sister　for　endless　brandies　and　sodas。　　Lord　Amber　went　into　wild　society　in　a　sort　of　chivalry；　now　he's　paying　blackmail　to　the　lowest　vultures　in　London。　Captain　Barillon　was　the　great　gentleman…apache　before　your　time；　he　died　in　a　madhouse；　screaming　with　fear　of　the　〃narks〃　and　receivers　that　had　betrayed　him　and　hunted　him　down。　　I　know　the　woods　look　very　free　behind　you；　Flambeau；　I　know　that　in　a　flash　you　could　melt　into　them　like　a　monkey。　　But　some　day　you　will　be　an　old　grey　monkey；　Flambeau。　　You　will　sit　up　in　your　free　forest　cold　at　heart　and　close　to　death；　and　the　tree…tops　will　be　very　bare。〃　　　　　Everything　continued　still；　as　if　the　small　man　below　held　the　other　in　the　tree　in　some　long　invisible　leash；　and　he　went　on：　　　　　〃Your　downward　steps　have　begun。　　You　used　to　boast　of　doing　nothing　mean；　but　you　are　doing　something　mean　tonight。　　You　are　leaving　suspicion　on　an　honest　boy　with　a　good　deal　against　him　already；　you　are　separating　him　from　the　woman　he　loves　and　who　loves　him。　　But　you　will　do　meaner　things　than　that　before　you　die。〃　　　　　Three　flashing　diamonds　fell　from　the　tree　to　the　turf。　　The　small　man　stooped　to　pick　them　up；　and　when　he　looked　up　again　the　green　cage　of　the　tree　was　emptied　of　its　silver　bird。　　　　　The　restoration　of　the　gems　（accidentally　picked　up　by　Father　Brown；　of　all　people）　ended　the　evening　in　uproarious　triumph；　and　Sir　Leopold；　in　his　height　of　good　humour；　even　told　the　priest　that　though　he　himself　had　broader　views；　he　could　respect　those　whose　creed　required　them　to　be　cloistered　and　ignorant　of　this　world。
  The　Invisible　Man
  In　the　cool　blue　twilight　of　two　steep　streets　in　Camden　Town；　the　shop　at　the　corner；　a　confectioner's；　glowed　like　the　butt　of　a　cigar。　　One　should　rather　say；　perhaps；　like　the　butt　of　a　firework；　for　the　light　was　of　many　colours　and　some　complexity；　broken　up　by　many　mirrors　and　dancing　on　many　gilt　and　gaily…coloured　cakes　and　sweetmeats。　　Against　this　one　fiery　glass　were　glued　the　noses　of　many　gutter…snipes；　for　the　chocolates　were　all　wrapped　in　those　red　and　gold　and　green　metallic　colours　which　are　almost　better　than　chocolate　itself；　and　the　huge　white　wedding…cake　in　the　window　was　somehow　at　once　remote　and　satisfying；　just　as　if　the　whole　North　Pole　were　good　to　eat。　　Such　rainbow　provocations　could　naturally　collect　the　youth　of　the　neighbourhood　up　to　the　ages　of　ten　or　twelve。　　But　this　corner　was　also　attractive　to　youth　at　a　later　stage；　and　a　young　man；　not　less　than　twenty…four；　was　staring　into　the　same　shop　window。　　To　him；　also；　the　shop　was　of　fiery　charm；　but　this　attraction　was　not　wholly　to　be　explained　by　chocolates；　which；　however；　he　was　far　from　despising。　　　　　He　was　a　tall；　burly；　red…haired　young　man；　with　a　resolute　face　but　a　listless　manner。　　He　carried　under　his　arm　a　flat；　grey　portfolio　of　black…and…white　sketches；　which　he　had　sold　with　more　or　less　success　to　publishers　ever　since　his　uncle　（who　was　an　admiral）　had　disinherited　him　for　Socialism；　because　of　a　lecture　which　he　had　delivered　against　that　economic　theory。　　His　name　was　John　Turnbull　Angus。　　　　　Entering　at　last；　he　walked　through　the　confectioner's　shop　to　the　back　room；　which　was　a　sort　of　pastry…cook　restaurant；　merely　raising　his　hat　to　the　young　lady　who　was　serving　there。　　She　was　a　dark；　elegant；　alert　girl　in　black；　with　a　high　colour　and　very　quick；　dark　eyes；　and　after　the　ordinary　interval　she　followed　him　into　the　inner　room　to　take　his　order。　　　　　His　order　was　evidently　a　usual　one。　　〃I　want；　please；〃　he　said　with　precision；　〃one　halfpenny　bun　and　a　small　cup　of　black　coffee。〃　　An　instant　before　the　girl　could　turn　away　he　added；　〃Also；　I　want　you　to　marry　me。〃　　　　　The　young　lady　of　the　shop　stiffened　suddenly　and　said；　〃Those　are　jokes　I　don't　allow。〃　　　　　The　red…haired　young　man　lifted　grey　eyes　of　an　unexpected　gravity。　　　　　〃Really　and　truly；〃　he　said；　〃it's　as　seriousas　serious　as　the　halfpenny　bun。　　It　is　expensive；　like　the　bun；　one　pays　for　it。　　It　is　indigestible；　like　the　bun。　　It　hurts。〃　　　　　The　dark　young　lady　had　never　taken　her　dark　eyes　off　him；　but　seemed　to　be　studying　him　with　almost　tragic　exactitude。　　At　the　end　of　her　scrutiny　she　had　something　like　the　shadow　of　a　smile；　and　she　sat　down　in　a　chair。　　　　　〃Don't　you　think；〃　observed　Angus；　absently；　〃that　it's　rather　cruel　to　eat　these　halfpenny　buns？　　They　might　grow　up　into　penny　buns。　　I　shall　give　up　these　brutal　sports　when　we　are　married。〃　　　　　The　dark　young　lady　rose　from　her　chair　and　walked　to　the　window；　evidently　in　a　state　of　strong　but　not　unsympathetic　cogitation。　　When　at　last　she　swung　round　again　with　an　air　of　resolution　she　was　bewildered　to　observe　that　the　young　man　was　carefully　laying　out　on　the　table　various　objects　from　the　shop…window。　　They　included　a　pyramid　of　highly　coloured　sweets；　several　plates　of　sandwiches；　and　the　two　decanters　containing　that　mysterious　port　and　sherry　which　are　peculiar　to　pastry…cooks。　In　the　middle　of　this　neat　arrangement　he　had　carefully　let　down　the　enormous　load　of　white　sugared　cake　which　had　been　the　huge　ornament　of　the　window。　　　　　〃What　on　earth　are　you　doing？〃　she　asked。　　　　　〃Duty；　my　dear　Laura；〃　he　began。　　　　　〃Oh；　for　the　Lord's　sake；　stop　a　minute；〃　she　cried；　〃and　don't　talk　to　me　in　that　way。　　I　mean；　what　is　all　that？〃　　　　　〃A　ceremonial　meal；　Miss　Hope。〃　　　　　〃And　what　is　that？〃　she　asked　impatiently；　pointing　to　the　mountain　of　sugar。　　　　　〃The　wedding…cake；　Mrs。　Angus；〃　he　said。　　　　　The　girl　marched　to　that　article；　removed　it　with　some　clatter；　and　put　it　back　in　the　shop　window；　she　then　returned；　and；　putting　her　elegant　elbows　on　the　table；　regarded　the　young　man　not　unfavourably　but　with　considerable　exasperation。　　　　　〃You　don't　give　me　any　time　to　think；〃　she　said。　　　　　〃I'm　not　such　a　fool；〃　he　answered；　〃that's　my　Christian　humility。〃　　　　　She　was　still　looking　at　him；　but　she　had　grown　considerably　graver　behind　the　smile。　　　　　〃Mr。　Angus；〃　she　said　steadily；　〃before　there　is　a　minute　more　of　this　nonsense　I　must　tell　you　something　about　myself　as　shortly　as　I　can。'〃　　　　　〃Delighted；〃　replied　Angus　gravely。　　〃You　might　tell　me　something　about　myself；　too；　while　you　are　about　it。〃　　　　　〃Oh；　do　hold　your　tongue　and　listen；〃　she　said。　　〃It's　nothing　that　I'm　ashamed　of；　and　it　isn't　even　anything　that　I'm　specially　sorry　about。　　But　what　would　you　say　if　there　were　something　that　is　no　business　of　mine　and　yet　is　my　nightmare？〃　　　　　〃In　that　case；〃　said　the　man　seriously；　〃I　should　suggest　that　you　bring　back　the　cake。〃　　　　　〃Well；　you　must　listen　to　the　story　first；〃　said　Laura；　persistently。　　〃To　begin　with；　I　must　tell　you　that　my　father　owned　the　inn　called　the　‘Red　Fish'　at　Ludbury；　and　I　used　to　serve　people　in　the　bar。〃　　　　　〃I　have　often　wondered；〃　he　said；　〃why　there　was　a　kind　of　a　Christian　air　about　this　one　confectioner's　shop。〃　　　　　〃Ludbury　is　a　sleepy；　grassy　little　hole　in　the　Eastern　Counties；　and　the　only　kind　of　people　who　ever　came　to　the　‘Red　Fish'　were　occasional　commercial　travellers；　and　for　the　rest；　the　most　awful　people　you　can　see；　only　you've　never　seen　them。　　I　mean　little；　loungy　men；　who　had　just　enough　to　live　on　and　had　nothing　to　do　but　lean　about　in　bar…rooms　and　bet　on　horses；　in　bad　clothes　that　were　just　too　good　for　them。　　Even　these　wretched　young　rotters　were　not　very　common　at　our　house；　but　there　were　two　of　them　that　were　a　lot　too　commoncommon　in　every　sort　of　way。　　They　both　lived　on　money　of　their　own；　and　were　wearisomely　idle　and　over…dressed。　　But　yet　I　was　a　bit　sorry　for　them；　because　I　half　believe　they　slunk　into　our　little　empty　bar　because　each　of　them　had　a　slight　deformity；　the　sort　of　thing　that　some　yokels　laugh　at。　　It　wasn't　exactly　a　deformity　either；　it　was　more　an　oddity。　　One　of　them　was　a　surprisingly　small　man；　something　like　a　dwarf；　or　at　least　like　a　jockey。　　He　was　not　at　all　jockeyish　to　look　at；　though；　he　had　a　round　black　head　and　a　well…trimmed　black　beard；　bright　eyes　like　a　bird's；　he　jingled　money　in　his　pockets；　he　jangled　a　great　gold　watch　chain；　and　he　never　turned　up　except　dressed　just　too　much　like　a　gentleman　to　be　one。　　He　was　no　fool　though；　though　a　futile　idler；　he　was　curiously　clever　at　all　kinds　of　things　that　couldn't　be　the　slightest　use；　a　sort　of　impromptu　conjuring；　making　fifteen　matches　set　fire　to　each　other　like　a