ten said to me, as we went
down in the lift together, that if one's will were strong enough, one
could float down as harmlessly as a feather. I solemnly believe that in
some ecstasy of noble thoughts she attempted the miracle. Her will, or
faith, must have failed her at the crucial instant, and the lower law
of matter had its horrible revenge. There is the whole story, gentlemen,
very sad and, as you think, very presumptuous and wicked, but certainly
not criminal or in any way connected with me. In the short-hand of the
police-courts, you had better call it suicide. I shall always call
it heroic failure for the advance of science and the slow scaling of
heaven."

It was the first time Flambeau had ever seen Father Brown vanquished. He
still sat looking at the ground, with a painful and corrugated brow, as
if in shame. It was impossible to avoid the feeling which the prophet's
winged words had fanned, that here was a sullen, professional suspecter
of men overwhelmed by a prouder and purer spirit of natural liberty and
health. At last he said, blinking as if in bodily distress: "Well, if
that is so, sir, you need do no more than take the testamentary paper
you spoke of and go. I wonder where the poor lady left it."

"It will be over there on her desk by the door, I think," said Kalon,
with that massive innocence of manner that seemed to acquit him wholly.
"She told me specially she would write it this morning, and I actually
saw her writing as I went up in the lift to my own room."

"Was her door open then?" asked the priest, with his eye on the corner
of the matting.

"Yes," said Kalon calmly.

"Ah! it has been open ever since," said the other, and resumed his
silent study of the mat.

"There is a paper over here," said the grim Miss Joan, in a somewhat
singular voice. She had passed over to her sister's desk by the doorway,
and was holding a sheet of blue foolscap in her hand. There was a sour
smile on her face that seemed unfit for such a scene or occasion, and
Flambeau looked at her with a darkening brow.

Kalon the prophet stood away from the paper with that loyal
unconsciousness that had carried him through. But Flambeau took it
out of the lady's hand, and read it with the utmost amazement. It did,
indeed, begin in the formal manner of a will, but after the words "I
give and bequeath all of which I die possessed" the writing abruptly
stopped with a set of scratches, and there was no trace of the name of
any