“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 arrow had evidently entered and looked out. The garden, with its flat flowerbeds, lay far below like a delicately coloured map of the world. The whole vista seemed so vast and empty, the tower seemed set so far up in the sky that as he stared out a strange phrase came back to his memory.
“A bolt from the blue,” he said. “What was that somebody said about a bolt from the blue and death coming out of the sky? Look how far away everything looks; it seems extraordinary that an arrow could
