The Innocence of Father Brown

Коллекция текстов · detective

The Blue Cross (1)
Between the silver ribbon of morning and the green glittering ribbon of sea, the boat touched Harwich and let loose a swarm of folk like fl…
The Blue Cross (2)
The yellow omnibus crawled up the northern roads for what seemed like hours on end; the great detective would not explain further, and perh…
The Blue Cross (3)
“No,” said Father Brown simply, and stood up also, “you won’t take it by force. First, because I really haven’t still got it. And, second,…
The Secret Garden (1)
Aristide Valentin, Chief of the Paris Police, was late for his dinner, and some of his guests began to arrive before him. These were, howev…
The Secret Garden (2)
“I think I can tell you,” cried Lady Margaret, in that clear, quivering voice with which a courageous woman speaks publicly. “I can tell yo…
The Secret Garden (3)
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you did not find the strange body of Becker in the garden. You did not find any strange body in the garden. In face…
The Queer Feet (1)
If you meet a member of that select club, “The Twelve True Fishermen,” entering the Vernon Hotel for the annual club dinner, you will obser…
The Queer Feet (2)
The first two courses of the dinner of The Twelve True Fishermen had proceeded with placid success. I do not possess a copy of the menu; an…
The Queer Feet (3)
“Colonel,” said Father Brown, “I tell you that this archangel of impudence who stole your forks walked up and down this passage twenty time…
The Flying Stars (1)
“The most beautiful crime I ever committed,” Flambeau would say in his highly moral old age, “was also, by a singular coincidence, my last.…
The Flying Stars (2)
At about this limit of mental anarchy Father Brown’s view was obscured altogether; for the City magnate in front of him rose to his full he…
The Invisible Man (1)
In the cool blue twilight of two steep streets in Camden Town, the shop at the corner, a confectioner’s, glowed like the butt of a cigar. O…
The Invisible Man (2)
It opened on a long, commodious ante-room, of which the only arresting features, ordinarily speaking, were the rows of tall half-human mech…
The Honour of Israel Gow (1)
A stormy evening of olive and silver was closing in, as Father Brown, wrapped in a grey Scotch plaid, came to the end of a grey Scotch vall…
The Honour of Israel Gow (2)
“Is he,” asked Flambeau in a voice that went oddly up and down, “is he all right?” “Seems so,” said the officer huskily, bending over the o…
The Wrong Shape (1)
Certain of the great roads going north out of London continue far into the country a sort of attenuated and interrupted spectre of a street…
The Wrong Shape (2)
“When that Indian spoke to us,” went on Brown in a conversational undertone, “I had a sort of vision, a vision of him and all his universe.…
The Sins of Prince Saradine (1)
When Flambeau took his month’s holiday from his office in Westminster he took it in a small sailing-boat, so small that it passed much of i…
The Sins of Prince Saradine (2)
“I mean that we here are on the wrong side of the tapestry,” answered Father Brown. “The things that happen here do not seem to mean anythi…
The Hammer of God (1)
The little village of Bohun Beacon was perched on a hill so steep that the tall spire of its church seemed only like the peak of a small mo…
The Hammer of God (2)
“You are like so many doctors,” he said; “your mental science is really suggestive. It is your physical science that is utterly impossible.…
The Eye of Apollo (1)
That singular smoky sparkle, at once a confusion and a transparency, which is the strange secret of the Thames, was changing more and more…
The Eye of Apollo (2)
“Reader of the books of evil, one more word before I blow away your baseless nightmares for ever. Not even faintly could you understand how…
The Sign of the Broken Sword (1)
The thousand arms of the forest were grey, and its million fingers silver. In a sky of dark green-blue-like slate the stars were bleak and…
The Sign of the Broken Sword (2)
“But the account of that last day in the poor fellow’s life was certainly worth reading. I have it on me; but it’s too dark to read it here…
The Three Tools of Death (1)
Both by calling and conviction Father Brown knew better than most of us, that every man is dignified when he is dead. But even he felt a pa…
The Three Tools of Death (2)
“You all know about me,” he continued huskily; “everybody knows how my story began, and it may as well end like that too. I was called a cl…