Page:Chesterton - The Wisdom of Father Brown.djvu/78

THE WISDOM OF FATHER BROWN In the early evening a light dinner was spread at the back of the Café Charlemagne. Though unroofed by any glass or gilt plaster, the guests were nearly all under a delicate and irregular roof of leaves; for the ornamental trees stood so thick around and among the tables as to give something of the dimness and the dazzle of a small orchard. At one of the central tables a very stumpy little priest sat in complete solitude and applied himself to a pile of whitebait with the gravest sort of enjoyment. His daily living being very plain, he had a peculiar taste for sudden and isolated luxuries; he was an abstemious epicure. He did not lift his eyes from his plate, round which red pepper, lemons, brown bread and butter, etc., were rigidly ranked, until a tall shadow fell across the table, and his friend Flambeau sat down opposite. Flambeau was gloomy. "I'm afraid I must chuck this business," said he heavily; "I'm all on the side of the French soldiers like Dubosc, and I'm all against the French atheists like Hirsch. But it seems to me in this case we've made a mistake. The Duke and I thought it as well to investigate the charge, and I must say I'm glad we did." "Is the paper a forgery, then?" asked the priest. "That's just the odd thing," replied Flambeau. "It's exactly like Hirsch's writing, and nobody can 64