The Arrow of Heaven
Coptic Cup; its owner had evidently been looking at it in the best light. It was well worth looking at, for that white and brilliant daylight turned its precious stones to many-coloured flames so that it might have been a model of the Holy Grail. It was well worth looking at; but Brander Merton was not looking at it. For his head had fallen back over his chair, his mane of white hair hanging towards the floor, and his spike of grizzled beard thrust up towards the ceiling, and out of his throat stood a long, brown-painted arrow with red feathers at the other end.
"A silent shot," said Father Brown, in a low voice; "I was just wondering about those new inventions for silencing firearms. But this is a very old invention, and quite as silent."
Then, after a moment, he added: "I'm afraid he is dead. What are you going to do?"
The pale secretary roused himself with abrupt resolution. "I'm going to press that button, of course," he said, "and if that doesn't do for Daniel Doom, I'm going to hunt him through the world till I find him."
"Take care it doesn't do for any of our friends," observed Father Brown; "they can hardly be far off; we'd better call them."
"That lot know all about the wall," answered Wilton. "None of them will try to climb it, unless one of them . . . is in a great hurry."
Father Brown went to the window by which the
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