{"product_id":"2940013682528","title":"The Secret of Father Brown","description":"The black dot gradually increased in size without very much altering in\u003cbr\u003ethe shape; for it continued, roughly speaking, to be both round and\u003cbr\u003eblack. The black clothes of clerics were not unknown upon those hills;\u003cbr\u003ebut these clothes, however clerical, had about them something at once\u003cbr\u003ecommonplace and yet almost jaunty in comparison with the cassock or\u003cbr\u003esoutane, and marked the wearer as a man from the northwestern islands,\u003cbr\u003eas clearly as if he had been labelled Clapham Junction. He carried a\u003cbr\u003eshort thick umbrella with a knob like a club, at the sight of which his\u003cbr\u003eLatin friend almost shed tears of sentiment; for it had figured in many\u003cbr\u003eadventures that they shared long ago. For this was the Frenchman's\u003cbr\u003eEnglish friend. Father Brown, paying a long-desired but long-delayed\u003cbr\u003evisit. They had corresponded constantly, but they had not met for years.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFather Brown was soon established in the family circle, which was quite\u003cbr\u003elarge enough to give the general sense of company or a community. He was\u003cbr\u003eintroduced to the big wooden images of the Three Kings, of painted and\u003cbr\u003egilded wood, who bring the gifts to the children at Christmas; for Spain\u003cbr\u003eis a country where the affairs of the children bulk large in the life of\u003cbr\u003ethe home. He was introduced to the dog and the cat and the live-stock\u003cbr\u003eon the farm. But he was also, as it happened, introduced to one\u003cbr\u003eneighbour who, like himself, had brought into that valley the garb and\u003cbr\u003emanners of distant lands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was on the third night of the priest's stay at the little chateau\u003cbr\u003ethat he beheld a stately stranger who paid his respects to the Spanish\u003cbr\u003ehousehold with bows that no Spanish grandee could emulate. He was a\u003cbr\u003etall, thin grey-haired and very handsome gentleman, and his hands,\u003cbr\u003ecuffs and cuff-links had something overpowering in their polish. But\u003cbr\u003ehis long face had nothing of that languor which is associated with long\u003cbr\u003ecuffs and manicuring in the caricatures of our own country. It was\u003cbr\u003erather arrestingly alert and keen; and the eyes had an innocent\u003cbr\u003eintensity of inquiry that does not go often with grey hairs. That alone\u003cbr\u003emight have marked the man's nationality, as well the nasal note in his\u003cbr\u003erefined voice and his rather too ready assumption of the vast antiquity\u003cbr\u003eof all the European things around him. This was, indeed, no less a\u003cbr\u003eperson than Mr. Grandison Chace, of Boston, an American traveller who\u003cbr\u003ehad halted for a time in his American travels by taking a lease of the\u003cbr\u003eadjoining estate; a somewhat similar castle on a somewhat similar hill.\u003cbr\u003eHe delighted in his old castle, and he regarded his friendly neighbour\u003cbr\u003eas a local antiquity of the same type. For Flambeau managed, as we have\u003cbr\u003esaid, really to look retired in the sense of rooted. He might have grown\u003cbr\u003ethere with his own vine and fig-tree for ages. He had resumed his real\u003cbr\u003efamily name of Duroc; for the other title of \"The Torch\" had only been a\u003cbr\u003etitle de guerre, like that under which such a man will often wage war on\u003cbr\u003esociety. He was fond of his wife and family; he never went farther\u003cbr\u003eafield than was needed for a little shooting; and he seemed, to the\u003cbr\u003eAmerican globe-trotter, the embodiment of that cult of a sunny\u003cbr\u003erespectability and a temperate luxury, which the American was wise\u003cbr\u003eenough to see and admire in the Mediterranean peoples. The rolling stone\u003cbr\u003efrom the West was glad to rest for a moment on this rock in the South\u003cbr\u003ethat had gathered so very much moss. But Mr. Chace had heard of Father\u003cbr\u003eBrown, and his tone faintly changed, as towards a celebrity. The\u003cbr\u003einterviewing instinct awoke, tactful but tense. If he did try to draw\u003cbr\u003eFather Brown, as if he were a tooth, it was done with the most dexterous\u003cbr\u003eand painless American dentistry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey were sitting in a sort of partly unroofed outer court of the house,\u003cbr\u003esuch as often forms the entrance to Spanish houses. It was dusk turning\u003cbr\u003eto dark; and as all that mountain air sharpens suddenly after sunset, a\u003cbr\u003esmall stove stood on the flagstones, glowing with red eyes like a\u003cbr\u003egoblin, and painting a red pattern on the pavement; but scarcely a ray\u003cbr\u003eof it reached the lower bricks of the great bare, brown brick wall that\u003cbr\u003ewent soaring up above them into the deep blue night. Flambeau's big\u003cbr\u003ebroad-shouldered figure and great moustaches, like sabres, could be\u003cbr\u003etraced dimly in the twilight, as he moved about, drawing dark wine from\u003cbr\u003ea great cask and handing it round. In his shadow, the priest looked very\u003cbr\u003eshrunken and small, as if huddled over the stove; but the American\u003cbr\u003evisitor leaned forward elegantly with his elbow on his knee and his fine\u003cbr\u003epointed features in the full light; his eyes shone with inquisitive\u003cbr\u003eintelligence.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47145769697520,"sku":"2940013682528","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013682528_p0.jpg?v=1763584485","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013682528","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}