ury;
wax candles, because they were the eighteenth century lighting; the
mechanical bits of iron represent the locksmith hobby of Louis XVI; the
diamonds are for the Diamond Necklace of Marie Antoinette."

Both the other men were staring at him with round eyes. "What a
perfectly extraordinary notion!" cried Flambeau. "Do you really think
that is the truth?"

"I am perfectly sure it isn't," answered Father Brown, "only you said
that nobody could connect snuff and diamonds and clockwork and candles.
I give you that connection off-hand. The real truth, I am very sure,
lies deeper."

He paused a moment and listened to the wailing of the wind in the
turrets. Then he said, "The late Earl of Glengyle was a thief. He lived
a second and darker life as a desperate housebreaker. He did not have
any candlesticks because he only used these candles cut short in the
little lantern he carried. The snuff he employed as the fiercest French
criminals have used pepper: to fling it suddenly in dense masses in
the face of a captor or pursuer. But the final proof is in the curious
coincidence of the diamonds and the small steel wheels. Surely that
makes everything plain to you? Diamonds and small steel wheels are the
only two instruments with which you can cut out a pane of glass."

The bough of a broken pine tree lashed heavily in the blast against the
windowpane behind them, as if in parody of a burglar, but they did not
turn round. Their eyes were fastened on Father Brown.

"Diamonds and small wheels," repeated Craven ruminating. "Is that all
that makes you think it the true explanation?"

"I don't think it the true explanation," replied the priest placidly;
"but you said that nobody could connect the four things. The true
tale, of course, is something much more humdrum. Glengyle had found,
or thought he had found, precious stones on his estate. Somebody had
bamboozled him with those loose brilliants, saying they were found in
the castle caverns. The little wheels are some diamond-cutting affair.
He had to do the thing very roughly and in a small way, with the help of
a few shepherds or rude fellows on these hills. Snuff is the one great
luxury of such Scotch shepherds; it's the one thing with which you can
bribe them. They didn't have candlesticks because they didn't want them;
they held the candles in their hands when they explored the caves."

"Is that all?" asked Flambeau after a long pause. "Have we got to the
dull truth at la