ble。　　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　six　men　mostly　in　black；　one　in　an　inspector's　uniform。　　They　included　the　doctor；　the　Presbyterian　minister；　and　the　priest　from　the　Roman　Catholic　chapel；　to　which　the　blacksmith's　wife　belonged。　The　latter　was　speaking　to　her；　indeed；　very　rapidly；　in　an　undertone；　as　she；　a　magnificent　woman　with　red…gold　hair；　was　sobbing　blindly　on　a　bench。　　Between　these　two　groups；　and　just　clear　of　the　main　heap　of　hammers；　lay　a　man　in　evening　dress；　spread…eagled　and　flat　on　his　face。　　From　the　height　above　Wilfred　could　have　sworn　to　every　item　of　his　costume　and　appearance；　down　to　the　Bohun　rings　upon　his　fingers；　but　the　skull　was　only　a　hideous　splash；　like　a　star　of　blackness　and　blood。　　　　　Wilfred　Bohun　gave　but　one　glance；　and　ran　down　the　steps　into　the　yard。　　The　doctor；　who　was　the　family　physician；　saluted　him；　but　he　scarcely　took　any　notice。　　He　could　only　stammer　out：　〃My　brother　is　dead。　　What　does　it　mean？　　What　is　this　horrible　mystery？〃　　There　was　an　unhappy　silence；　and　then　the　cobbler；　the　most　outspoken　man　present；　answered：　〃Plenty　of　horror；　sir；〃　he　said；　〃but　not　much　mystery。〃　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　asked　Wilfred；　with　a　white　face。　　　　　〃It's　plain　enough；〃　answered　Gibbs。　　〃There　is　only　one　man　for　forty　miles　round　that　could　have　struck　such　a　blow　as　that；　and　he's　the　man　that　had　most　reason　to。〃　　　　　〃We　must　not　prejudge　anything；〃　put　in　the　doctor；　a　tall；　black…bearded　man；　rather　nervously；　〃but　it　is　competent　for　me　to　corroborate　what　Mr。　Gibbs　says　about　the　nature　of　the　blow；　sir；　it　is　an　incredible　blow。　　Mr。　Gibbs　says　that　only　one　man　in　this　district　could　have　done　it。　　I　should　have　said　myself　that　nobody　could　have　done　it。〃　　　　　A　shudder　of　superstition　went　through　the　slight　figure　of　the　curate。　　〃I　can　hardly　understand；〃　he　said。　　　　　〃Mr。　Bohun；〃　said　the　doctor　in　a　low　voice；　〃metaphors　literally　fail　me。　　It　is　inadequate　to　say　that　the　skull　was　smashed　to　bits　like　an　eggshell。　　Fragments　of　bone　were　driven　into　the　body　and　the　ground　like　bullets　into　a　mud　wall。　　It　was　the　hand　of　a　giant。〃　　　　　He　was　silent　a　moment；　looking　grimly　through　his　glasses；　then　he　added：　〃The　thing　has　one　advantagethat　it　clears　most　people　of　suspicion　at　one　stroke。　　If　you　or　I　or　any　normally　made　man　in　the　country　were　accused　of　this　crime；　we　should　be　acquitted　as　an　infant　would　be　acquitted　of　stealing　the　Nelson　column。〃　　　　　〃That's　what　I　say；〃　repeated　the　cobbler　obstinately；　〃there's　only　one　man　that　could　have　done　it；　and　he's　the　man　that　would　have　done　it。　　Where's　Simeon　Barnes；　the　blacksmith？〃　　　　　〃He's　over　at　Greenford；〃　faltered　the　curate。　　　　　〃More　likely　over　in　France；〃　muttered　the　cobbler。　　　　　〃No；　he　is　in　neither　of　those　places；〃　said　a　small　and　colourless　voice；　which　came　from　the　little　Roman　priest　who　had　joined　the　group。　　〃As　a　matter　of　fact；　he　is　coming　up　the　road　at　this　moment。〃　　　　　The　little　priest　was　not　an　interesting　man　to　look　at；　having　stubbly　brown　hair　and　a　round　and　stolid　face。　　But　if　he　had　been　as　s