The Incredulity of Father Brown
priest with an inscrutable face. "Curiously enough there was a legend that the devil was lame."
"I say," protested Payne, "you can't really mean that he was the devil; but who the devil was he?"
"He was the Lord Darnaway under Henry VII and Henry VIII," replied his companion. "But there are curious legends about him, too; one of them is referred to in that inscription round the frame, and further developed in some notes left by somebody in a book I found here. They are both rather curious reading."
Payne leaned forward, craning his head so as to follow the archaic inscription round the frame. Leaving out the antiquated lettering and spelling, it seemed to be a sort of rhyme running somewhat thus:
In the seventh hour I shall depart,
None in that hour shall hold my hand,
And woe to her that holds my heart.
"It sounds creepy somehow," said Payne, "but that may be partly because I don't understand a word of it."
"It's pretty creepy even when you do," said Wood in a low voice. "The record made at a later date, in the old book I found, is all about how this beauty deliberately killed himself in such a way
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