Dr. Orion Hood is a famous criminologist and an expert on certain moral disorders. His consulting room is located on the seaside in Scarborough; the long French windows facing the North Sea are spacious and bright, and the vast expanse of The sea seems to be a blue-green marble facade.Here, all the rooms are as strangely tidy as the sea, so that the sea appears as solid, neat turquoise wainscoting.But if you conclude from this that Dr. Hood's house was not luxurious or poetic, you'd be wrong.They do exist, they just don't show up.Its luxury is manifested in: 10 or 8 boxes of top-quality cigars are placed on a special table, and the arrangement is also very particular, with strong flavors near the wall and soft flavors near the window.On this extravagant table, there is also a wine bottle rack displaying three top-quality wines: whiskey, brandy and rum, but the whole atmosphere is so neat that one can't help but guess that the wines in them may never Someone touched it.It's also poetic: the left-hand corner of the room is neatly lined with a complete collection of British classics, while the right-hand side is full of works by British and foreign physiologists.But if one pulls a Chaucer or a Shelley from among the classics, the gap that appears there will again look like a mouth without front teeth, which is awkward in any way.We cannot say that these books have never been read, it is probable that they were, but they are certainly chained there, like the Bibles in old churches.Dr. Hood turned his private library into a public library.If even the bookshelves displaying lyric poems and ballads and the tables on which cigarettes and wine are placed exude a cautious atmosphere that can only be seen from a distance, then it is conceivable that the other books of this expert will be treated with every kind of care, and some others are placed on display. The table on which delicate chemical instruments or mechanical tools need to be tended must be even more sacrosanct.

Dr. Orion Hood's residence was a series of suites, with the North Sea outside the easternmost wall and rows of sociology and criminology books inside the western wall, and he paced back and forth between the two.Hood was dressed in the velvet dresses that the artist favored, but not as slovenly as the artist.His hair was visibly gray, but it still looked thick and healthy; his face was thin, but rosy and expectant.He himself and the whole room exude a grim and restless atmosphere, like the North Sea on one side of the residence (although, he chose to build the house here purely for health reasons).

Destiny knocked on the door, and deliberately sent a person who was completely different from this environment and its owner in every respect to this long and narrow living room facing the sea and with a rigorous atmosphere.With a brief but polite "Come in", the door opened inward.Afterwards, a man of short stature hobbled into the room, with a cap and umbrella taken off in his hands, and he was in a hurry as if he were packing a lot of luggage.The black umbrella was inconspicuous and dilapidated.His broad-brimmed black hat, though reserved for the clergy, was uncommon in England.In every way, the man was the epitome of mediocrity and incompetence.

The doctor looked at the newcomer, trying to hide his surprise, which he probably did when he saw a huge but harmless sea animal crawling into the house.The visitor looked at the doctor mildly, beaming but panting, like a bloated handyman who managed to squeeze into a bus.The smug expression and the bewildered appearance are so incongruously brought together on him.His hat rolled onto the carpet, and the heavy umbrella slipped from between his knees and landed with a thud.He reached for his hat, then bent down to pick up his umbrella.In a hurry, he still had a smile on his round face, and said at the same time:

"Forgive me, my name is Brown, and I'm here for the McNabb family. I heard that you often help other people deal with these troubles. If I'm wrong, please forgive me." At this moment, he clumsily grasped the hat, swayed his body slightly weirdly, and bowed, as if everything had been arranged properly. "I don't quite understand what you mean," replied the scientist very coldly. "I'm afraid you have come to the wrong door. My name is Dr. Hood, and I work mainly in literature and education. Although sometimes the police come to me. Consultation, help them solve some difficult cases, but—”

"Oh, what I have to say is very important," put in the short man named Brown. "Oh, her mother won't let them be engaged!" he said, and leaned back in his chair, as if convinced that he had found the right person. Dr. Hood's face was gloomy, his brows were tightly furrowed, but his eyes were shining brightly, whether it was out of anger or because he thought it was ridiculous. "Oh," he said, "I still don't quite understand what you mean." "You know, they want to get married," said the man in the cape. "Maggie McNabb and Todd Hunter, these two young men want to get married. Is there anything more important?"

Dr. Hood has made great achievements in scientific research, but he has gained and lost, and he has paid a lot of costs-some say that his health has been damaged, and some people say that he has neglected God; but his scientific achievements have not completely deprived him of His sensibility for the absurd.The consulting doctor couldn't help laughing when he heard the last appeal of the frank priest, and he sat down in the armchair with a full expression of sarcasm. "Mr. Brown," he said solemnly, "it has been fourteen and a half years since I was personally called upon to deal with a private case: an attempt to poison the President of France at a banquet given by the Mayor. Now your question is , is your friend Maggie a good fit to be the fiancée of her friend Todd Hunter. Well, Mr. Brown, I'm a man of business. I'd like to help with that and give Maggie's family the best possible advice, no less than The level of service I have provided to the French Republic and the King of England is—no, it should be better, because I have accumulated another 14 years of experience. I happen to be free this afternoon, so you can describe it in detail.”

The short priest named Brown thanked him sincerely, with more than enthusiasm, but gave people a strange feeling of ignorance of the world.It would have been appropriate for him to thank a stranger who handed him matches in the smoking-room, but to the Dean who had personally taken him to Kew in search of four-leaf clover His acknowledgment was perhaps a little too casual.The lingering voice of the little man's warm thanks lingered, and he went on to tell his story: "I just said my name was Brown. Well, here's the thing, I'm a priest of a Catholic church, a small church, as you've probably seen, at the far north end of town, where the streets are a mess. At the end There lived a widow in my church on the street out by the sea. She was an honest, dutiful, but bad-tempered woman named McNabb. With her daughter, and between her and the lodger, she has only one lodger now, a young man named Todd Hunter, and it is he who is in trouble, because he is going to marry the landlady's daughter."

"Then the landlady's daughter," asked Dr. Hood, interested but calmly, "what does she think?" "Why, she wants to marry him too," said Father Brown, straightening up, eagerly. "This way, things will be difficult." "Oh, and it's a real nuisance," agreed Dr. Hood. The priest continued: "As far as I know, James Todhunter is a young man of good character, but the problem is that no one knows his background. He is not tall, dark-skinned, and has a quick brain like A monkey, always clean-shaven, like an actor. He's also understanding, and knows how to please people. He seems to be rich, but no one knows what he does. So Mrs. McNabb (her pessimistic nature) decided that he was not in business, and probably had something to do with something dangerous. Todd Hunter kept himself locked up for hours at a time, even in broad daylight. I don’t know what he’s up to if he doesn’t go out. From this point of view, he must be doing something dangerous that is silent and shady. He said that there are sufficient reasons for him to keep this secret, and it is also temporary. He also promised Explain before the wedding. There's only so much that's known for sure, but Mrs. McNabb has so much to say that she can't tell what's true and what's her imagination. You know , ignorance is a breeding ground for rumors. Some say that they have heard two people talking in the house; but when the door is opened, Todd Hunter is always alone. There are also rumors of a man wearing a high silk hat The tall mysterious man in the top hat, who emerged from the sea mists at dusk, floated across the sand, and through the little garden at the back of the house, and spoke to Todd Hunter through the open window. Later they There seemed to be a quarrel, and the two broke up. Todd Hunter slammed the window hard, and the man in the top hat disappeared into the mist of the sea again. When telling this story, the family spoke magically; but , I think Mrs. McNabb prefers her own version: in the corner of Todhunter's room there is a big trunk, locked all day, and at night the other person (whether human or ghost) is will crawl out of the box. You see now that Todd Hunter's closed door has inspired all kinds of strange ideas. It is like a magical door that shuts all the illusions and ghosts in it. However Well, there's really nothing weird about this little young man. He wears a decent black jacket and is serious and simple. He pays his rent on time and doesn't drink. The children are very friendly and keep them entertained all day. And, most anxiously, he gets on just as well with the landlady's eldest daughter, who is even going to marry him at church the next day."

People who are obsessed with advanced theories always like to apply their advanced theories to daily trivial matters.Facing the priest's innocence, this expert with outstanding achievements has put down his airs and greatly condescended.Sitting comfortably in his armchair, he began his tirade in a casual tone: "Even when it comes to very small things, we must first understand the laws of nature. A flower may not die in early winter, but a flower will wither; a pebble may never be wet by the tide, but The tide is still rising. From a scientific point of view, the entire history of mankind is a series of collective movements, destruction or migration, just as flies die in droves in winter and migratory birds return in flocks in spring. Race is the root of all history. Where there is race, there is religion; and race, there is lawful and moral war. Nothing is more telling than that savage, innocent, and obnoxious race, commonly called The Celts, your friends the McNabbs are a real sample of this race. They are short, dark, and have a habit of fantasy and wandering. They are as credulous as they are to superstitious explanations of any event, as they still are. Accept—with all due respect—the superstitious interpretations of events that you and your church give. Living in an environment where the church hums before you and the sea rumbles behind, these people will always give the usual It's not surprising that things are painted with grotesque colors. You are in charge of a small parish, and you have a narrow view. You only see this Mrs. McNabb and know that she is frightened by the voice of two people and the big tall one from the sea. But the scientific mind sees more than that, and sees the McNabb clan scattered all over the world, seen as a whole, as uniform as a flock of birds. Thousands of Tens of thousands of Mrs. McNabb, living in thousands of houses, mixed sick potions into tea for unsuspecting friends to drink; and he saw—”

Before the doctor could finish speaking, he was interrupted by an urgent shout from outside the door.Immediately afterwards someone was heard walking quickly across the hallway.Accompanied by the rustling sound of the skirt on the man's body, the door opened, and a young woman appeared in front of him.She was well dressed, but disheveled, and her face was flushed with haste.Her blond hair was disheveled by the sea breeze, and she would have been a beauty in a hundred had it not been for the Scotch-like protruding and over-dark cheekbones.When she apologized, she was abrupt and almost bossy. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir," she said. "It's a matter of life and death. I must go to Father Brown." Father Brown bowed hastily to his feet. "Hey, Maggie, what's the matter?" he asked. "I think James was murdered," the girl answered hastily and breathlessly. "That Glass came to James again. I heard them talking clearly behind the door. I heard two voices: James's voice was low and guttural, and the other was high and trembling. of." "Which Glass?" repeated the priest, bewildered. "I know his name is Glass," replied the girl impatiently. "I heard them arguing outside the door, and I think it was about money, because I heard James say 'Yes, Mr. Glass,' or 'No, Mr. Glass,' and then 'Two, three, Mr. Glass. 'We've talked too much, you come with me, maybe before it's too late.' "What's too late?" Dr. Hood had been observing the young woman with great interest, and couldn't help asking at this moment. "What's the big deal about Mr. Glass and his money troubles, making you so nervous?" "I tried to knock the door open, but I couldn't," the girl replied immediately, "Then I ran to the backyard and managed to climb onto the window sill. When I looked into the house, it was dark inside, as if there was nothing there, but I actually saw James, curled up in a corner, not sure if he was drugged or strangled." "It's a serious matter," said Father Brown, grabbing his hat and umbrella, and standing up. "In fact, I was telling this gentleman just now about you, and his opinion was—" "My opinion has changed almost entirely," the scientist said solemnly. "I no longer think the young lady is as Celtic as I imagined it to be. I have nothing else to do, but let me put on my hat and let's go for a walk around town." The three walked with their own characteristics: the girl was panting like a mountain climber, but her steps were firm; The ground turns alternately, like stepping on a hot wheel.In a few minutes they were approaching the end of the street where McNabb's house stood.The doctor had hinted that the desolate state of mind had something to do with the environment, and the scene of desolation in the small town also confirmed his statement to a certain extent.Scattered houses are intermittently distributed along the coast, and the distance between each other is constantly expanding.Dusk began to fall, and in the faint twilight, there were patches of red and strange clouds in the sky; the sea surface showed a deep purple, and there was an ominous faint roar from the depths of the sea.The McNabb's flowery back garden stretched out towards the beach; the two lifeless trees in the garden loomed like the raised hands of a frightened demon.Mrs. McNabb ran down the street to meet the three.She stretched out her bony hands, which looked like those two trees.And her face looming in the twilight exudes a fierce air, which makes people shudder.Mrs. McNabb retells in a high-pitched voice the story her daughter has told, embellishing it and exaggerating it.She swore to get revenge on Mr. Glass, for killing, and Mr. Todhunt, for being killed, or because he had the audacity to offer to marry her daughter and could not live to do so.She babbled on her own, but the doctor and the priest were not on her mind, they just dealt with it one after another.They walked through the narrow passage in front of the house and came to the door of the tenant behind.Dr. Hood used his old detective skills, slammed the door open with his shoulder, and rushed into the house. The door opened, and what appeared before him was a silent scene of disaster.Anyone who sees this scene, even at a glance, will not hesitate to conclude that two people, or more than two people, have fought violently in this room.The cards were scattered on the table, and some were scattered on the floor, indicating that someone had played cards here, but was interrupted in the middle.Two empty glasses stood on a table against the wall, and a third fell to pieces on the carpet.A few feet from the shattered wine glass lay a dagger or short sword.The blade was straight, the hilt was beautifully decorated, and the gray light from the darkened window was reflected on the dull blade, and the shadows of the trees were black against the gray sea.A silk top hat lay on its side near a corner on the other side of the room, as if it had just been knocked off a gentleman's head, and it was true that it did look as though it was still rolling.In the corner behind the top hat lay Mr. James Todhunter, curled up like a sack of potatoes thrown there, or a suitcase bundled up for check-in.A scarf gags his mouth and half a dozen more ropes are tied around his elbows and ankles, but his brown eyes are alive and moving warily. Dr. Orion Hood paused for a moment on the doormat, taking in the silent violence.Then he walked briskly across the carpet, picked up the silk top hat, and carefully put it on the bound Todd Hunter's head.But the top hat was so big that the brim almost slipped over his shoulders. "This is Mr. Glass's top hat," said the doctor, taking off the top hat and taking out a hand-held magnifying glass to examine the inside of the top hat. "Mr. Glass is not here, but his hat is here. How can I explain it? Mr. Glass is obviously very particular about his clothes, and he should not forget to wear a hat. This top hat is not very new, but it is in a modern style. Well maintained. I think he might be an old dandy." "My God," cried Miss McNabb, "why didn't you untie him first?" "I used the word 'old' on purpose, but I'm not sure," the doctor went on to explain. "My reasoning may sound far-fetched. How much hair people lose every day varies from person to person, but without exception it will There is hair loss. Logically, if the hat had been recently worn, I should be able to see a few hairs through a magnifying glass. But there is not a single hair in it, so I think Mr. Glass is bald. This is a bit , and that high, angry voice so vividly described by Miss McNabb (Don't worry, dear lady, don't worry), and if we combine the bald head with the tone that old men usually make when they are angry, then I can roughly Inferred that he was an elderly man. However, this man is likely to be energetic and tall. The legend that the tall man in the top hat once appeared at the window is somewhat reliable, but I can find out More convincing evidence. Fragments of wineglasses all over the room, but there was also a splinter on the bracket by the fireplace. If a short man had broken the glass, such as Mr. Toddhunt, the fragment would not have fallen there. .” "By the way," said Father Brown, "may I ask you to untie Mr. Todhunt first?" "That's not all that can be drawn from the glass," the expert continued recklessly. "I can also deduce that it may not be his age that makes this Mr. Glass bald or neurotic, but his dissolute life. We have mentioned that Mr. Todhunt is mild-tempered, frugal, and does not drink too much. Dipping. The cards and wine glass here are not in his daily habits. They should be used by him to entertain a special friend. However, we can use this to draw a further inference. Mr. Todd Hunter may have a wine glass, maybe No, but we can't see that he keeps any wine here. So what are these glasses for? I bet Mr. Glass has a bottle of wine with him. Brandy or whiskey, probably expensive Kind of. So we can get an idea of ​​what Mr. Glass is, or at least what kind of guy he is. He is tall, elderly, well-dressed but possibly frayed, and certainly enjoys fun and Drinking, and even indulging in it. Among the crowd in the street, Mr. Glass should be a little famous." "Listen to me," the young woman yelled, "if you don't let me go over and untie him, I'll go outside and call the police." "My advice to you, Miss McNabb," said Dr. Hood gravely to her, "is not to rush to the police. Father Brown, I wish you would appease your parishioners, and I don't care. Mainly for their benefit. Well, we have a general idea of ​​Mr. Glass's image and character; but what do we know about the basic facts of Mr. Todd Hunter? There are three main aspects: he is very frugal; he has some money; He had a secret. Apparently these three traits are common in people who are ripped off, and he had them all. Equally evident were Mr. Glass's sophisticated but faded clothes, his profligate habits and his tendency to yell The performance of screaming is also the main characteristics of blackmailers. There are two typical characters in this tragedy of spending money to keep silent: one is a respectable person, but has hidden secrets; Vultures of the West End, greedily looking for something to squeeze out. These two met here today, got into an argument, got into a big fight, and got a dick." "Are you going to untie those ropes?" the girl asked persistently. Dr. Hood carefully put his top hat on the table by the wall and walked towards Todd Hunter, who was tightly bound.The doctor looked at him carefully, and even took him by the shoulders to move him, and then turned him half a circle, but at last the doctor only replied: "No, I think those ropes are still useful until the police come with handcuffs." Father Brown, who had been staring blankly at the carpet, raised his round face and asked, "What do you mean?" The doctor picked up the specially shaped dagger or dagger on the carpet, and while examining it attentively, he replied: "Because you saw Mr. Todhunt tied up," he said, "you assumed that Mr. Glass tied him up and escaped. I have four different views on this: First, if Mr. Glass left voluntarily. Why should such a well-dressed man forget his hat? Second," continued the Doctor, walking towards the window, "this window is the only exit, but it is locked from the inside. Third. , there was a small drop of blood on the tip of the knife, but there was no wound on Mr. Todhunt. It is clear that Mr. Glass escaped wounded, and his life and death are unknown. From all the circumstances, it is more likely that the person who was blackmailed tried to kill Killing the blackmailer that gave him nightmares, not the blackmailer trying to kill the goose that would lay his golden eggs. I think that's pretty much the truth of the whole thing." "But the ropes?" asked the priest, eyes wide, without any appreciation for the reasoning. "Ah, those ropes," said the expert in a strange tone. "Miss McNabb would like to know why I didn't untie Mr. Toddhunter. Well, I'll tell her right away. The reason I didn't is that Mr. Toddhunt could get away anytime." "What?" Everyone present exclaimed in varying degrees. "I checked all the knots on Mr. Todd Hunter's body," Hood went on to explain calmly. "Fortunately, I know a thing or two about knot-tying; these are actually a branch of criminology. Every knot in his body is tied by himself, and he can untie it himself; none of them is really wanted. by the enemy who bound him. Those ropes were a complete deception to make us think that he was the victim of the brawl, and not poor Glass. Perhaps Mr. Glass's body had been hidden in in the garden, or stuffed up the chimney." The place fell into dead silence; the room grew darker, and the trees in the garden, battered by the sea wind, were now more sparse and shadowy, and so became more distinct, as if they were nearer to the window.Like creepy sea monsters that had come ashore, like krakens or cuttlefish, or wriggling polyps, they watched somberly at the tragic end.And the villain and victim of this tragedy, the dreaded man in the top hat, once climbed ashore from the sea.There is in the air the morbidity of blackmail, the most morbid act of man, for blackmail is the covering of one crime for another, like black ointment on a darker wound. The little priest usually had a contented and joyful look on his face, but at this moment he suddenly frowned, as if something was arousing his curiosity.This is no longer the kind of curiosity that he had when he knew nothing at first, but the curiosity that he was eager to further explore the truth after he had a preliminary idea after careful consideration. "Please say again," said the priest briefly, but not without trouble, "that you mean that Mr. Todhunter can tie himself up and untie himself?" "That's what it means," said the doctor. "My God!" cried Father Brown suddenly, "is it really possible?!" The priest whooshed like a rabbit to the bound man eagerly eyed the half-hidden captive.Then he turned his dull face to the crowd. "Yes, that's true!" he said excitedly. "Can't you see it from this man's face? Hey, look into his eyes!" Both the doctor and the girl looked in the direction indicated by the priest.Although the wide, black scarf hid the lower half of Todhunter's face, they could still see a certain anguish in the upper face. "His eyes do look a little weird," the young woman was really moved, she scolded loudly, "You guys are so cruel, I believe it's because he was so uncomfortable being tied up." "I don't see it that way," said Dr. Hood. "There's something wrong with his eyes. But I'd rather think that the streaks on his face indicate some mental abnormality—" "Oh, don't talk nonsense!" said Father Brown. "Don't you see he's smiling?" "He's laughing!" repeated the doctor, somewhat surprised. "What could make him laugh?" "Oh," said Father Brown apologetically, "I think he's laughing at you, to put it bluntly. Indeed, I feel a little tempted to laugh at myself, too, when I know the truth." "What did you learn?" said Hood, a little annoyed. "I understand at last what Mr. Todhunter does," replied the priest. The priest paced up and down the room slowly, looking blankly at one thing and another, and burst into dry laughter from time to time. Everyone watched his inexplicable behavior patiently, and couldn't help feeling bored.He looked at the top hat and laughed for a while, and then laughed loudly at the broken glass, and the blood on the dagger made him laugh almost out of breath.Then he turned to the specialist, who was already furious. "Doctor Hood," he exclaimed enthusiastically, "you have the imagination of a poet! You can bring a man out of nothing into existence! That is far greater than merely finding out the truth! Indeed, In contrast, the facts themselves are both mundane and ridiculous." "I don't understand what you're talking about at all," said Dr. Hood arrogantly. "The facts I mentioned are all inevitable, although it seems that they may not be complete at present. Under the circumstances that the corresponding details have not been confirmed, of course Let intuition, or if you prefer to say imagination, come into play. In the absence of Mr. Glass—” "That's right, that's right," said the little priest, nodding his head frequently. "That's the very first thing to make clear; that Mr. Glass was not there, absolutely not. I think," added the priest, thinking, " No one has ever been more absent than Mr. Glass." "You mean he's out of town?" demanded the doctor. "I mean he doesn't exist," replied Father Brown. "He's a figment, so to speak." "You're not joking," the expert said with a smile, "does this person really not exist?" The priest nodded, affirming the statement. "Unfortunately, that's true," he said. Hood couldn't help but smile contemptuously. "If that's the case," he said, "before we talk about the many other pieces of evidence, let's look at the first piece of evidence we found; the first fact we saw when we entered the house. If Mr. Glass didn't exist, Whose hat is that?" "Mr. Todd Hunter's," replied Father Brown. "But the hat doesn't suit him," Hood couldn't help retorting. "There's no way he's wearing that hat." Father Brown shook his head, his attitude was unbelievably gentle. "I didn't say he could wear it," he replied. "I'm just saying it's his hat. If you have to make a difference, or say, it's his hat." "What difference does that make?" said the criminologist sarcastically. "My dear sir," said the genial little man, expressing his impatience for the first time, "if you go into the nearest hat shop in the street, you will understand 'a hat worn by one' and What a difference 'hat belongs to this man'." "But a hat seller," retorted Hood, "could make a profit selling new hats. But what would Mr. Todhunter get out of this old hat?" "Rabbit," blurted out Father Brown. "What?" Hood called. "Rabbits, ribbons, sweets, goldfish, and rolls of ribbon," said the priest quickly. "Didn't it occur to you when you found out that the rope that bound Toddhunter was fake? The dagger had the same problem. As you say, Mr. Todhunter didn't suffer any external injuries; he suffered It's an internal injury, I hope you understand what I mean." "Do you mean the inside of Mr. Todhunter's clothes?" Mrs. McNabb demanded curtly. "I'm not talking about the inside of Mr Todd Hunter's clothes," said Father Brown. "It's inside his body." "Hey, what exactly are you talking about?" Father Brown explained calmly: "Mr. Todd Hunter is practicing hard and hopes to become a professional magician. He also wants to be a juggler, a ventriloquist and an expert in rope tricks. This top hat was originally used to practice magic tricks. Acting. Couldn't find hair in the hat, not because Mr. Glass wearing it was prematurely bald, but because no one ever wore it. Those 3 wine glasses were for acrobatics, Toddhen Mr. Te used them to practice throwing and catching. However, because he hadn’t practiced for long, he couldn’t grasp the strength well, and one of the wine glasses hit the roof and broke. The sword was also used for performing acrobatics. Out of professional honor and obligation, He was going to master the sword swallowing technique. However, he was still a novice and accidentally grazed the inside of his throat. Therefore, I say he has internal injuries. From his facial expression, I am sure that the injury is not serious. He's also practicing how to get out of the rope, like the Davenport brothers did, and just as he was trying to get out of the rope, we broke in. The cards are of course for card tricks, and he's practicing The technique of throwing cards through the air, in which some cards fell to the ground. The reason why he kept his profession a secret is also very simple, just that he wants to keep the secret of those magic tricks strictly, and he does not want to be seen through. Any magician will do this But the simple fact that an idler in a top hat once looked in through the rear window, and was driven away by a furious Mr. Toddhunter, leads us all astray and gives us false associations, We thought Mr. Glass in the silk hat haunted him like a ghost and made his life miserable." "What about those two voices?" Maggie asked him with wide-eyed eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of a ventriloquism?" asked Father Brown. "A ventriloquist asks a question in his natural voice and then answers in that squeaky, short, artificial voice you hear." Everyone stopped making a sound, and there was a long silence.Dr. Hood looked at the little priest who had just finished speaking, with a secretive and earnest smile on his face. "You're really good at making up stories," he began, breaking the silence. "There's nothing better than this in a book. But you haven't made the part about Mr. Glass very clear. Miss McNabb."曾亲耳听见托德亨特先生用这个名字称呼那个人。” 布朗神父像小孩子似地咯咯笑了起来。“呃，这个嘛，”他说，“这是这个荒唐故事里最荒唐的那部分。我们这位练杂耍的朋友在轮流抛起那3个玻璃杯时，他每接到一个都要大声报数，失手没接到时也大声说没接到。其实他是这样说的：'一、二、三——掉了个杯子（missed a glass）；一、二——掉了个杯子（missed a glass）。'” 屋内众人愣了片刻，随后不约而同地爆发出一阵狂笑。就在他们乐不可支的时候，角落里的那个人已经解开了捆在身上的绳子，他得意地抖动身体，所有的绳子全落到了地上。然后，他大步走到屋子中央，鞠躬致意，从口袋里抽出一张印有红蓝字体的大幅海报，上面写着：“札拉丁，世界最优秀的魔术师、柔术家、口技家和飞人即将在斯卡伯勒'帝国馆'推出全新系列魔术表演，时间：下周一八时整准时开演。”