Chapter 12 Father Brown's Fairy Tale

The picturesque city of Herichwaldenstein was also an independent kingdom, and the German Empire still retains several such pocket kingdoms.In history, it was attributed to the powerful rule of Prussia very late, and it was only 50 years ago on this sunny summer day when the story happened.On this day, Flambeau and Father Brown sat comfortably in the garden of this small kingdom, tasting the locally brewed beer.The traces of war and barbaric justice are still fresh in the memory of contemporaries, and this will soon be verified.But if you just glance at it, you will be impressed by the childlike innocence displayed in it, and this is the most charming side of Germany.In those small hereditary monarchies, everything is a drama, and the king is as diligent as a cook in his domestic affairs.There are countless sentry posts in the city, and the soldiers on guard look like weird German toys; the golden sun shines on the chiseled battlements, which looks like a golden gingerbread cake.The weather is fine, and the sky is a rich blue, even Potsdam, which is famous for its blue sky, can't match it; it's more like the blue that a child took out of a cheap paint box and was splashed out wantonly.The bare trees also reveal a sense of vitality, because the pointed buds on the branches are still pink and tender, and against the thick blue, they look like countless innocent figures.

Although Father Brown looks ordinary and lives an ordinary life, he is not without romantic feelings, but he, like most children, usually only keeps those daydreams in his heart.On such a sunny and colorful day, in such a well-structured small town, he really felt as if he had entered a fairy tale world.Like a young man, he took pleasure in the sight of that formidable sword-stick, which Flambeau always walked and swung.And right now, it was standing beside his tall tankard.Oh no, in his drowsy state he even found himself staring at the clumsy round head of his battered umbrella, with a faint reminder of the ogre's stick in a colorful playbook.But he never made up stories, except for this fairy tale:

"I was wondering," he said, "if one wants to take risks, can it be done in a place like this? It does look like a place for adventures, but I always think they'll fight you with paper knives, Not with a real sword." "You are mistaken," said his companion. "Here people not only fight with real swords, but also kill without swords, and there are even better ones." "Eh? You mean?" asked Father Brown. "Oh," replied another, "somebody has been shot here, but the killer didn't use a firearm. That's the only thing in Europe."

"Do you mean to use a bow and arrow?" asked Father Brown curiously. "I mean the bullet in the head," Flambeau replied. "Haven't you heard the story of the former king of this place? It was one of the biggest mysteries in the police world 20 years ago. Of course, you must remember the unification plan promoted by Bismarck. This place was forcibly annexed in the early days, but the whole It wasn't all smooth sailing either. The Empire (or the Empire that aspired to it) sent Otto, King of Grossenmark, to rule the state in order to protect its own interests. We saw his portrait in the hallway over there Well, he'd be a handsome old gentleman if he'd had some hair and eyebrows, and wasn't wrinkled like a vulture, but he's got a lot of trouble, as I'll tell you later. He was once a strategist and a distinguished soldier, but it was not easy to conquer this small place. In several battles with the famous Anhold brothers, he suffered a lot. Swinburne returned to the three A patriotic guerrilla wrote a poem, you should remember:

That's pretty much it.In fact, the place would not have been occupied at all if Paul, one of the three brothers, had not been so mean and determined to betray the revolution.Refusing to endure it any longer, he revealed the secret of the revolt, which led to its suppression and his own eventual promotion to King Otto's court.Later, Ludwig, the real hero in Mr. Swinburne's poem, died when the city-state was captured, and still held the long sword in his hand until the moment of death.And Heinrich, the other of the three brothers, was not a traitor, but compared with the two active brothers, he seemed too gentle, even cowardly, and later he simply lived a hermit life.He turned to Christian quietism and almost became a Quaker.He gave almost all of his property to the poor, and otherwise remained aloof from worldly affairs.They said that not long ago, they could occasionally see him nearby, always wearing a black baggy coat, almost blind, with disheveled white hair all over his head, but his face was unusually soft. "I know," said Father Brown. "I saw him once." "

His friend looked at him with some surprise. "I didn't know you'd been here before," he said. "Probably you know as much about this place as I do. Anyway, that's the story of the Annhold brothers, the last of three surviving brothers and the only surviving part of the affair. " "You mean the king died a long time ago too?" "Dead," repeated Flambeau, "that's all we can say. You can understand that in his later years, like all tyrants, he began to grow nervous. He made numerous guards patrolling the castle. until there were more sentries than houses in the city; and all suspicious persons were shot without mercy. He set his room in the middle of the great labyrinth of other houses, and hid there almost all the time; Another hut was built in the room, or it was just a cabinet, which was reinforced with steel plates to look like a safe or a warship. Some people said that a secret hole was dug under the hut, which was so small that it could only accommodate him alone. Therefore, In order not to be sent to the tomb, he would rather stay in a place that is no different from the tomb. But he did more than that. After the rebellion was put down, the local people surrendered, but now, Otto insists on the absolute prohibition of civilian possession Any weapon, the general government would not do this. The order was strictly and thoroughly enforced, and well-organized officials familiar with the local conditions were responsible for monitoring every small place. In the end, with the ultimate use of manpower and science, the Austrian King Thor is sure that Helrich Waldenstein is under the strictest protection, and it is impossible to bring in even a toy pistol."

"Human science can never go that far," said Father Brown, his eyes still fixed on the red shoots on the branches above his head. "It is difficult to define and define. What is a weapon? The most harmless Household items can be used to kill; like teapots, even teacup hoods. On the other hand, if you showed an old Englishman a revolver, I doubt he would know it was a weapon, of course , if you shoot him that's a different matter. Maybe someone brought a new type of firearm that doesn't even look like a firearm. Maybe it looks like a thimble or something. What's so special about the bullet? place?"

"I haven't heard of that," replied Flambeau; "but I don't have all the information. I only got it from an old friend Grimm. He was an able man in the German police at that time Detective, he was going to arrest me, but I caught him, and we had a lot of fun talking. He was here in charge of King Otto's case, but I forgot to ask him about the bullet. According to Grimm, the thing is like this." He paused for a while, and after drinking half a glass of dark beer in one breath, he continued: "On the night of the incident, the king was supposed to go to an outer room, because he was going to receive some guests he wanted to see very much. They were geologists sent to detect gold. This is also an ancient legend, and it is said that the nearby There are rich gold mines in the rock formations. This small city-state has been supplied by these gold mines for a long time. Moreover, because of the existence of gold mines, they have been able to maintain their status. To maintain a fair bargaining chip under its heavy artillery fire. However, so far, the most rigorous detection has failed to find gold, although they have been able to-"

"The toy pistol has been found for sure," Father Brown said with a smile. "But what about the traitorous brother? Didn't he tell the king anything?" "He always said he didn't know," Flambeau returned. "He said it was the only secret his brothers kept from him. All I can say is that there were a few words in support of his claim. Great Luther Vichy looked at Heinrich before he died, but pointed at Paul and said, 'You didn't tell him...' and then fell silent forever. Anyway, those brilliant geologists and minerals from Paris and Berlin Scientists have arrived, dressed in the utmost splendor and befitting status, and anyone who has attended a Royal Society gala knows that no one else dresses as much as scientists do. It was quite a gathering of talents, but It's getting late. Gradually, the butler—you've seen his portrait too, with thick black eyebrows, serious eyes, and a meaningless smile on his face—yes, that The steward found everyone present except the king himself. He searched all the outer rooms, then, remembering his morbid phobia, hurried to the innermost room, but it was also empty. One person. It took him a long time to open the steel cabin in the center of the room, but it was empty. He went to check the burrow again, and it seemed to be deeper, more like a tomb - of course, this is his description Just then he heard screams and commotion erupting in the long row of rooms and corridors outside."

"At first it was just a far-off din, even outside the castle, where the tension of unknown events could be felt in the approaching crowd. Soon it became a surprisingly close din, if not all If the sentences interfere with each other, the voice is already loud enough to hear the content. Then, each sentence becomes very clear, the voice is getting closer, and soon, someone rushed into the room and briefly reported the news to him as usual .” "Henrich Waldenstein and Otto, king of Groenmark, lie in the dew-condensed woods outside the castle, in the twilight, with his arms outstretched, his back facing the bright moon, his temples and chin smashed Blood was still bubbling everywhere. That was the only part of his body that was still alive. He was wearing a full yellow and white uniform, but the shoulder straps or scarf had been removed for receiving guests at the castle. He was crumpled and thrown beside him. He was dead before he was lifted up. But whether dead or alive, he has become a mystery. He usually hides in the innermost room, how could he suddenly appear in the knot? In the dewy woods? And with no weapons and no squires."

"Who found the body?" asked Father Brown. "There was a girl at court called Hedwig von or something," replied his friend, "and she happened to be picking wildflowers in the woods." "Has she picked it?" asked the priest, staring blankly at the cobwebs of leaves overhead. "Yes," replied Flambeau. "I remember very well that the butler was old Grimm, or someone else, and said it was a horrible scene. When they heard her cry and rushed to the scene, the girl was holding a bouquet of spring flowers." Blooming flowers, bending over the blood-soaked body. Anyway, the point is that he was dead before help arrived, and the news had to go to the castle, of course. The king died at court, of course. It would cause panic, but the power of this news is much greater than that. For a while, the crowd was furious, and foreign visitors became the biggest suspects, especially those mining experts and several Prussian officials in important positions. Soon, people discovered that The plan to excavate the treasure is much larger than they expected, and these experts and officials have also been promised a lot of rewards, or international benefits. Some people even say that the king's secret palace and heavily guarded measures are not for defense A popular rebellion, but to cover a private survey—" "Are those flowers long on stems?" asked Father Brown. Flambeau stared at him. "What a freak you are!" he said. "That's what old Grimm said. Blood and bullets are ugly enough in themselves, but he said the ugliest part of the affair was that the flowers were so short that they were almost torn off close to the flowers." "Of course," said the priest, "if a grown girl really wanted to pick the flowers, she would pick them along with the long stems. If she just pulled off the flowers like a child, it would seem—" He hesitated . "What?" demanded Flambeau. "Well, it looks like she was picked up in a panic, just to, uh, just to excuse her presence once she got there." "I know what you're going to say," said Flambeau despondently. "But that alone dispels all suspicion—the absence of a weapon. As you say, there are many things that could have killed him, even his own shoulder straps; but we are not explaining that he was How was killed, but how he was shot. The truth is we can't explain it. They searched the girl thoroughly, because honestly, although she is the niece of that sinister old housekeeper Paul Anhold Nursing, she's still a bit of a suspect. She's a very romantic person, and probably sympathetic to the old revolutionary fervor in her family. But at the same time, no matter how romantic you are, you can't imagine killing someone without any guns. A large bullet went into a man's jaw or head. There were no pistols on the scene, but two shots were fired. That's up to you, my friend." "How do you know you fired twice?" asked the priest. "He's only been shot once in the head," said his companion, "but there's another bullet hole in the shoulder strap." Father Brown's stretched brow tightened suddenly. "Find another bullet?" he asked. Flambeau grew impatient. "Then I don't remember," he said. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" cried Brown, his brow deepening, his expression curious and unusually focused. "Don't think I'm rude, let me think about it." "No problem," Flambeau laughed, finishing his beer.A gust of wind blows through the branches full of buds, blowing the pink and white petals into floating clouds, making the sky bluer and making the beautiful scenery a little more exquisite.They ride up the wind, like lovely angels to their homes in the air, through the open windows.The oldest dragon tower in the castle stands tall, as weird as this beer mug, but equally ordinary.Beyond the tower there was a faint glimpse of the woods, where the king had died. "What happened to that Hedwig?" Finally, the priest asked. "She married General Schwartz," Flambeau said. "You must have heard of him, it was a legend. He did great things at Sadova and Graverot, but he was famous before that; in fact, he never It is unusual for ordinary soldiers to rise all the way, even for the smallest in Germany..." Father Brown straightened up suddenly. "Raised from the rank and file!" he cried, pursing his lips as if to whistle. "Oh, oh, what a queer story! What a queer way of killing; but I'm afraid it's the only possibility. But think of how long he has endured with such hatred—" "What do you mean?" asked Flambeau. "How did they kill him?" "They killed him with the shoulder strap," said Brown carefully; before Flambeau could retort, he went on: "Yes, yes, I know about the bullet. Maybe I should say he had the shoulder." He died. I know it sounds unbelievable." "I think," said Flambeau, "that you must have figured something out, but you can't account for the fact that he has a bullet in his head. As I said before, he was probably strangled, but He was shot. Who fired it, then, and with what gun?" "He was shot by his own orders," the priest said. "You said he committed suicide?" "I didn't say it was his own will," replied Father Brown. "I mean his own orders." "Well, anyway, what do you think?" Father Brown laughed heartily. "I'm just here for vacation," he said. "I don't have any ideas. It's just that this place reminds me of some fairy tales. If you want, I'll tell you a story." The small red clouds are like desserts, floating lightly over the castle like a gingerbread house, crowning the turrets; while the branches full of buds are like baby pink fingers, stretched out, as if trying to think about it. to touch them.At this moment, the blue sky was covered with a lavender sunset glow, and Father Brown suddenly spoke again: "It was a gloomy night, and the branches were still dripping with rain, and the dew had condensed. King Otto of Grothemark slipped out of the side gate of the castle, and hurried into the woods. A sentinel saluted him, but He didn't pay attention, he didn't want to attract special attention. He was happy that the gray and wet trees engulfed him like a swamp under the rain. He deliberately chose the side door with the least traffic, but it still couldn't He wished. But fortunately, there will be no nosy guy chasing him. His trip was decided temporarily, and no one knew about it. Those well-dressed visitors were left in the palace by him, and they no longer It was important. He suddenly realized that he could do it himself without them." "His great passion was not due to fear of death, which would be nobler, but to gold. Because of the legend of gold, he left Grossenmark and invaded Helrich Waldenstein. Because of the legend , and just because of this legend, he bought the traitor and killed the hero; for this he questioned the false steward again and again, until he was finally convinced that the traitor really knew nothing about it. To get more money, he reluctantly spent a lot, and promised more; for this he sneaked out of his castle like a thief on a rainy night, because he thought of another cheap but equally satisfying way of desire." "He climbed hard along the overgrown mountain road. The mountain was steep and the ridge overlooked the city. The hermit's residence was at the end of the mountain road, among the stone pillars stretching on the ridge. It is a residence, but It was more like a cave surrounded by a thorn fence, where the third of the Anhold brothers lived for a long time, living a life of isolation. King Otto thought that he had no reason to refuse to hand over the gold, He had known those places for years, but had never looked for them, and though he was now a stoic, desensitized to possessions and pleasures, he hadn't looked for them before then. Yes, they He used to be an enemy, but now, doesn't he claim to abandon prejudice? As long as he recognizes his goals and praises his dogma, he is likely to reveal the secrets of money. Although he has set up tight defenses, Otto Not a coward, and, anyway, his greed far outweighed his fear. Besides, there was nothing to be afraid of. He was sure that the whole kingdom was free of private arms, and he was a hundred times more sure that the little Quaker house on the hill There would be no weapons of any kind, just him and two rough old servants, living on plants, and no other human being had been seen year after year. King Otto looked down at the brightly lit city below him like a brightly lit city. , Founder's huge labyrinth, a cruel smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. As far as he could see, his men were standing in front of the post with rifles on their shoulders, but the enemy had nothing. The post is very close to the mountain road, as long as he With a shout, soldiers will rush up immediately, not to mention regular patrols in the woods and on the ridge; sentries are set up everywhere, as far as the dark woods, on the other side of the river are his sentries, because The distance makes him look much smaller. Enemies who want to sneak into the city have no way to go around. Moreover, the east, west, south, north gates of the palace and under the four vertical walls are also heavily guarded sentries. He is safe .” "It became more apparent when he climbed to the ridge, and the den of his nemesis was exposed and visible at a glance. Otto was standing on a small stone platform, surrounded by precipices on three sides. Behind him It was a black cave, hidden among the green thorns, and the opening was so low that it was impossible to imagine that anyone could get in; in front of it was a steep cliff and a huge valley surrounded by clouds. On a stone platform stood an ancient bronze lectern , on which lay a huge German Bible, which seemed overwhelmed. In the humid air up here, the bronze or brass had been etched green. Otto thought at once, 'Even if they had weapons, they have not It must have rotted away.' The moon had risen, casting a dead light on the peaks and cliffs, and the rain had stopped." "Behind the lectern stood an old man in his dying years, his eyes looking across the valley. He was wearing a black robe, hanging down as straight as the surrounding cliffs, but his white hair and the faint whispers in his mouth But he seemed to be swaying limply in the wind. Apparently he was reciting the Office of the Day as part of his religious practice. 'They believed in horses...'" "'Sir,' said the King of Helrich Waldenstein with rare humility, 'I only wish to have a word with you.'" "'And the chariot,' the old man went on feebly, 'but we believe in the name of our God, the Lord...' The last words were barely audible. He closed the book reverently, and then groped for the He was on the edge of the lectern, for he was nearly blind. Two servants quickly emerged from the low opening to support him. They wore the same black robes as his, but their hair was not as beaten as his. Yinshuang, his face is not as weather-beaten as his. They are Croatian or Hungarian farmers, with broad faces and dull expressions, but their eyes are shining brightly. For the first time, the king felt a little flustered, But his courage remains, and his desire to negotiate has not faded." "'I am afraid,' said he, 'that we have not seen each other since your brother was killed in that dreadful bombardment.'" "'All my brothers are dead,' said the old man, still looking straight across the valley. Then suddenly he turned his limp face to Otto, whose silver hair hung like icicles over his brow. In between, he added: 'You know, I'm dead too.'" "'I hope you understand,' said the king, trying to control himself, that he was almost compromising, 'and I didn't come here to pester you about that dispute. We don't want to talk about who was right and who was wrong, but at least One thing we are never wrong, because you are always right. No matter what others say about your family's policies, no one thinks you moved here because of gold; you proved yourself, you are not suspect ...'" "The old man in a black robe has been staring at him with his water-blue eyes, with a dull expression. But when he said the word 'gold', the old man suddenly stretched out his hand, as if trying to grab something, Suddenly, he turned his face towards the mountains." "'He mentioned gold,' he said, 'he mentioned something illegal. Shut him up.'" "Otto has the bad habits of the Prussian national tradition. He believes that success is born rather than hard-earned. He believes that people like him should always conquer others, and the fate of others can only be conquered forever. Therefore, he seems Never understanding surprise, or getting ready for the next step, he was utterly terrified at the moment. He was about to open his mouth to answer, but his mouth was gagged and a strong, soft band suddenly felt like a bandage His head was tightly wrapped around his head, and his words were choked back. It took nearly 40 seconds for him to realize that it was the two Hungarian servants who did it with his own military uniform shoulders. bring." "The old man staggered back to his Bible on the brass stand, and patiently turned a few pages with a chilling gesture. Finally, he turned to the Book of James and began to read: 'The tongue in the hundred Smallest in body yet able to—'" "The king, frightened by something in his voice, turned suddenly, and galloped down the hill the way he had come, toward the palace gardens, and did not think of undoing the shoulder straps that choked his neck and chin until he was halfway. He tried and tried, but could not untie; the man who tied the knot evidently knew that it was much harder to untie the knot behind his head with his hands than on his chest. His feet were free, and he could Like jumping on the mountain, his hands are also free, and he can wave all kinds of gestures and signals, but he can't speak. He has become a dumb demon." "He had already approached the forest outside the castle, and he suddenly realized what it meant that he could not speak out, and understood the intentions of those people. He once again looked down at the bright, square, labyrinth-like city gloomyly below the mountain, but again He couldn’t laugh anymore either. He re-experienced those words in the complacent state of mind before, but now it was cruel irony. As far as he could see, his men were standing in front of the sentry with rifles on their shoulders. Anyone who can't answer the questioning can shoot him. The sentry post is very close to the mountain road, and there are regular patrols in the woods and on the ridge, so it is impossible for him to hide in the woods until dawn. There are sentry posts everywhere, trying to sneak in The enemies of the city have no long way to go around, so it is impossible for him to go back to the city by a long way. As long as he shouts, soldiers will rush up the mountain immediately, but he can't shout now." "The moon had risen to the zenith, and had turned a clear silver, and the bright blue night sky against the shadows of the pines around the castle, showed a band of different shades. Shining brightly, he had never noticed these things before; when they gathered together, they seemed to cling to the roots of trees, and it was wonderful. Perhaps, there was something extraordinary lurking in him, that For a moment, this thing finally overwhelmed his reason. In that woods, he really experienced something indescribable but very German - a fairy tale. He vaguely felt that he was being drawn to the ogre the castle, but he forgot that he was the ogre. He remembered asking his mother as a child if there would be bears in the old family garden. He stooped to pick a flower as if it held some The power of magic. The stalk was stronger than he thought it would be, but finally it snapped. He was carefully trying to slip it into his shoulder strap when he heard a cry, 'Who's there?' And He remembered that the shoulder straps were not in their normal position." "He wanted to shout, but he couldn't. There was another questioning; followed by a 'bang', the bullets roared, hit the target, and there was silence again. The king of Grossenmark lay peacefully Among the fairy-tale groves, no more gold or steel will be spoiled; only the silver strokes of the moonlight outline the fine ornaments of his uniform, and the deep wrinkles on his brow. May God have mercy on his soul." "According to the strict post regulations, the sentry who fired the gun naturally had to go to check the target he hit. His name was Schwartz, he was a private at the time, and he gradually climbed up. He found a man in uniform. The bald man, his face was tightly wrapped by his own shoulder straps, as if wearing a weird mask, only the pair of dead eyes were still shining coldly in the moonlight. The bullet passed through the shoulder strap and hit Into the jaw, which is why only one shot was fired and there were two bullet holes. Young Schwartz tore off the mysterious silk mask and threw it on the grass. Maybe he shouldn't have done it, but it was. Human nature; and then he saw he killed somebody." "We shall not know what happened next. Despite all the horrors that have happened in the woods, I am inclined to think that there was indeed a beautiful fairy tale there. The young lady named Hedwig saved the Soldier, and later married him, but whether she had known him before, or just happened to meet the accident and fell in love with him from then on, we don't know. But I think what we can know is Well, this Hedwig is a heroine, and deserves the hero's marriage. She did a brave, wise thing. She persuaded the sentinel to return to his post so that he would not have to deal with this catastrophe. He was but one of fifty sentinels, loyal and disciplined, always on call. She remained beside the corpse, crying out in terror; she had nothing to do with the disaster, for she had no , nor could there be any firearms." "Well," said Father Brown, rising cheerfully, "I wish them well." "Where are you going?" asked his friend. "I'm going to take another look at the portrait of that steward, Anhold, who betrayed his brother," replied the priest, "and I want to know where he is—I want to know, if a man finally betrays the man who made him betray As a brother, will his betrayal appear less bad?" He stood in front of the portrait and fell into long contemplation.It was an old man with silver hair, thick black eyebrows, and the painted pink smiling face seemed to be quite different from the stern warning flashing in his eyes.