The Wisdom of Father Brown, G. K. Chesterton [motivational books for women .txt] 📗

“ ‘It’s an ugly wig to be proud of⁠—and an ugly story,’ I said.

“ ‘Consider,’ replied this curious little man, ‘how you yourself really feel about such things. I don’t suggest you’re either more snobbish or more morbid than the rest of us: but don’t you feel in a vague way that a genuine old family curse is rather a fine thing to have? Would you be ashamed, wouldn’t you be a little proud, if the heir of the Glamis horror called you his friend? or if Byron’s family had confided, to you only, the evil adventures of their race? Don’t be too hard on the aristocrats themselves if their heads are as weak as ours would be, and they are snobs about their own sorrows.’

“ ‘By Jove!’ I cried; ‘and that’s true enough. My own mother’s family had a banshee; and, now I come to think of it, it has comforted me in many a cold hour.’

“ ‘And think,’ he went on, ‘of that stream of blood and poison that spurted from his thin lips the instant you so much as mentioned his ancestors. Why should he show every stranger over such a Chamber of Horrors unless he is proud of it? He doesn’t conceal his wig, he doesn’t conceal his blood, he doesn’t conceal his family curse, he doesn’t conceal the family crimes⁠—but⁠—’

“The little man’s voice changed so suddenly, he shut his hand so sharply, and his eyes so rapidly grew rounder and brighter like a waking owl’s, that it had all the abruptness of a small explosion on the table.

“ ‘But,’ he ended, ‘he does really conceal his toilet.’

“It somehow completed the thrill of my fanciful nerves that at that instant the Duke appeared again silently among the glimmering trees, with his soft foot and sunset-hued hair, coming round the corner of the house in company with his librarian. Before he came within earshot, Father Brown had added quite composedly, ‘Why does he really hide the secret of what he does with the purple wig? Because it isn’t the sort of secret we suppose.’

“The Duke came round the corner and resumed his seat at the head of the table with all his native dignity. The embarrassment of the librarian left him hovering on his hind legs, like a huge bear. The Duke addressed the priest with great seriousness. ‘Father Brown,’ he said, ‘Doctor Mull informs me that you have come here to make a request. I no longer profess an observance of the religion of my fathers; but for their sakes, and for the sake of the days when we met before, I am very willing to hear you. But I presume you would rather be heard in private.’

“Whatever I retain of the gentleman made me stand up. Whatever I have attained of the journalist made me stand still. Before this paralysis could pass, the priest had made a momentarily detaining motion. ‘If,’ he said, ‘your Grace will permit me my real petition, or if I retain any right to advise you, I would urge that as many people as possible should be present. All over this country I have found hundreds, even of my own faith and flock, whose imaginations are poisoned by the spell which I implore you to break. I wish we could have all Devonshire here to see you do it.’

“ ‘To see me do what?’ asked the Duke, arching his eyebrows.

“ ‘To see you take off your wig,’ said Father Brown.

“The Duke’s face did not move; but he looked at his petitioner with a glassy stare which was the most awful expression I have ever seen on a human face. I could see the librarian’s great legs wavering under him like the shadows of stems in a pool; and I could not banish from my own brain the fancy that the trees all around us were filling softly in the silence with devils instead of birds.

“ ‘I spare you,’ said the Duke in a voice of inhuman pity. ‘I refuse. If I gave you the faintest hint of the load of horror I have to bear alone, you would lie shrieking at these feet of mine and begging to know no more. I will spare you the hint. You shall not spell the first letter of what is written on the altar of the Unknown God.’

“ ‘I know the Unknown God,’ said the little priest, with an unconscious grandeur of certitude that stood up like a granite tower. ‘I know his name; it is Satan. The true God was made flesh and dwelt among us. And I say to you, wherever you find men ruled merely by mystery, it is the mystery of iniquity. If the devil tells you something is too fearful to look at, look at it. If he says something is too terrible to hear, hear it. If you think some truth unbearable, bear it. I entreat your Grace to end this nightmare now and here at this table.’

“ ‘If I did,’ said the Duke in a low voice, ‘you and all you believe, and all by which alone you live, would be the first to shrivel and perish. You would have an instant to know the great Nothing before you died.’

“ ‘The Cross of Christ be between me and harm,’ said Father Brown. ‘Take off your wig.’

“I was leaning over the table in ungovernable excitement; in listening to this extraordinary duel half a thought had come into my head. ‘Your Grace,’ I cried, ‘I call your bluff. Take off that wig or I will knock it off.’

“I suppose I can be prosecuted for assault, but I am very glad I did it. When he said, in the same voice of stone, ‘I refuse,’ I simply sprang on him. For three long instants he strained against me as if he had all hell to help him; but I forced his head until the hairy cap fell off it. I admit that, whilst wrestling, I shut my eyes as