“My God!” cried Flambeau after a pause, “he’s laughing!”

“Come away,” said Father Brown, who was quite white.  “Come away from this house of hell.  Let us get into an honest boat again.”

Night had sunk on rushes and river by the time they had pushed off from the island, and they went down-stream in the dark, warming themselves with two big cigars that glowed like crimson ships’ lanterns.  Father Brown took his cigar out of his mouth and said: 

“I suppose you can guess the whole story now?  After all, it’s a primitive story.  A man had two enemies.  He was a wise man.  And so he discovered that two enemies are better than one.”

“I do not follow that,” answered Flambeau.

“Oh, it’s really simple,” rejoined his friend.  “Simple, though anything but innocent.  Both the Saradines were scamps, but the prince, the elder, was the sort of scamp that gets to the top, and the younger, the captain, was the sort that sinks to the bottom.  This squalid officer fell from beggar to blackmailer, and one ugly day he got his hold upon his brother, the prince.  Obviously it was for no light matter, for Prince Paul Saradine was frankly `fast,’ and had no reputation to lose as to the mere sins of society.  In plain fact, it was a hanging matter, and Stephen literally had a rope round his brother’s neck.  He had somehow discovered the truth about the Sicilian affair, and could prove that Paul murdered old Antonelli in the mountains.  The captain raked in the hush money heavily for ten years, until even the prince’s splendid fortune began to look a little foolish.

“But Prince Saradine bore another burden besides his blood-sucking brother.  He knew that the son of Antonelli, a mere child at the time of the murder, had been trained in savage Sicilian loyalty, and lived only to avenge his father, not with the gibbet (for he lacked Stephen’s legal proof), but with the old weapons of vendetta.  The boy had practised arms with a deadly perfection, and about the time that he was old enough to use them Prince Saradine began, as the society papers said, to travel.  The fact is that he began to flee for his life, passing from place to place like a hunted criminal; but with one relentless man upon his trail.  That was Prince Paul’s position, and by no means a pretty one.  The more money he spent on eluding Antonelli the less he had to silence Stephen.  The more he gave to silence Stephen the less chance there was of finally escaping Antonelli.  Then it was that he showed himself a great man—­a genius like Napoleon.

“Instead of resisting his two antagonists, he surrendered suddenly to both of them.  He gave way like a Japanese wrestler, and his foes fell prostrate before him.  He gave up the race round the world, and he gave up his address to young Antonelli; then he gave up everything to his brother.  He sent Stephen money enough for smart clothes and easy travel, with a letter saying roughly:  `This is all I