The Collar by Frank O'Connor Page A

‘It’s a point in his favour. Afraid it won’t make much difference though. Naturally, what we’re really concerned with is that he deserted his post. He could be shot for that, of course.’
    â€˜Deserted his post?’ repeated Father Michael in consternation. This was worse than anything he had ever imagined. The wretched man might lose his life and for no other reason but his own evil temper. He felt he was being well punished for it. ‘How did he desert his post?’ he faltered.
    â€˜Well, you caught him in your garden,’ Howe replied brusquely. ‘You see, padre, in that time the whole camp could have been surprised and taken.’
    In his distress, Father Michael nearly asked him not to talk nonsense. As if a military camp in the heart of England was going to be surprised while the sentry nipped into the next garden for a few onions! But that was the English all out. They had to reduce everything to the most literal terms.
    â€˜Oh, hold on now!’ he said, raising a commanding hand. ‘I think there must be a mistake. I never said I caught him in the garden.’
    â€˜No,’ Howe snapped irritably. ‘He said that. Didn’t you?’
    â€˜No,’ said Father Michael stubbornly, feeling that casuistry was no longer any use. ‘I did not. Are you quite sure that man is right in his head?’
    Fortunately, at this moment Elsie appeared with the coffee and Father Michael was able to watch her and the coffee-pot instead of Howe, who, he knew, was studying him closely. If he looked as he felt, he thought, he should be worth studying.
    â€˜Thanks,’ Howe said, sitting back with his coffee-cup in his hand, and then went on remorselessly: ‘Am I to understand that you beat this chap up across the garden wall?’
    â€˜Listen, my friend,’ Father Michael said desperately, ‘I tell you that fellow is never right in the head. He must be a hopeless neurotic. They get like that, you know. He’d never talk that way if he had any experience of being beaten up. I give you my word of honour it’s the wildest exaggeration. I don’t often raise my fist to a man, but when I do I leave evidence of it.’
    â€˜I believe that,’ Howe said with a cheeky grin.
    â€˜I admit I did threaten to knock this fellow’s head off,’ continued Father Michael, ‘but that was only when I thought he’d taken my onions.’ In his excitement he drew closer to Howe till he was standing over him, a big, bulky figure of a man, and suddenly he felt the tears in his eyes. ‘Between ourselves,’ he said emotionally, ‘I behaved badly. I don’t mind admitting that to you. He threatened to give me in charge.’
    â€˜The little bastard!’ said Howe incredulously.
    â€˜And he’d have been justified,’ the priest said earnestly. ‘I had no right whatever to accuse him without a scrap of evidence. I behaved shockingly.’
    â€˜I shouldn’t let it worry me too much,’ Howe said cheerfully.
    â€˜I can’t help it,’ said Father Michael brokenly. ‘I’m sorry to say the language I used was shocking. As a matter of fact, I’d made up my mind to aplogise to the man.’
    He stopped and returned to his chair. He was surprised to notice that he was almost weeping.
    â€˜This is one of the strangest cases I’ve ever dealt with,’ Howe said. ‘I wonder if we’re not talking at cross purposes. This fellow you mean was tall and dark with a small moustache, isn’t that right?’
    For one moment Father Michael felt a rush of relief at the thought that after all it might be merely a case of mistaken identity. To mix it up a bit more was the first thought that came to his mind. He didn’t see the trap until it was too late.
    â€˜That’s right,’ he said.
    â€˜Listen, padre,’ Howe said, leaning forward in his chair while his long jaw