THE WISDOM OF FATHER BROWN
"There are the tales, of course," said the Admiral, shrugging his shoulders, "and some of them, I don't deny, on evidence as decent as one ever gets for such things. Someone saw a blaze hereabout, don't you know, as he walked home through a wood; someone keeping sheep on the uplands inland thought he saw a flame hovering over Pendragon tower. Well, a damp dab of mud like this confounded island seems the last place where one would think of fires."
"What is that fire over there?" asked Father Brown, with a gentle suddenness pointing to the woods on the left river-bank. They were all thrown a little off their balance, and the more fanciful Fanshaw had even some difficulty in recovering his, as they saw a long, thin stream of blue smoke ascending silently into the end of the evening light.
Then Pendragon broke into a scornful laugh again. "Gypsies!" he said; "they've been camping about here for a week. Gentlemen, you want your dinner," and he turned as if to enter the house.
But the antiquarian superstition in Fanshaw was still quivering; and he said hastily, "But, Admiral, what's that hissing noise quite near the island? It's very like fire."
"It's more like what it is," said the Admiral, laughing as he led the way; "it's only some canoe going by."
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