v
“deliver me, o lord, from the evil man: and preserve me from the wicked man,” sang mrs.
olivera in a firm voice, slightly off the note.
there was a relentlessness about her enunciation of the sentiment which made hercule poirot
deduce that mr. howard raikes was the wicked man immediately in her mind.
hercule poirot had accompanied his host and the family to the morning service in the village
church.
howard raikes had said with a faint sneer: “so you always go to church, mr. blunt?”
and alistair had murmured vaguely something about it being expected of you in the country—
can’t let the parson down, you know—which typically english sentiment had merely bewildered
the young man, and had made hercule poirot smile comprehendingly.
mrs. olivera had tactfully accompanied her host and commanded jane to do likewise.
“they have sharpened their tongues like a serpent,” sang the choir boys in shrill treble,
“adder’s poison is under their lips.”
the tenors and basses demanded with gusto:
“keep me, o lord, from the hands of the ungodly. preserve me from the wicked men who are
purposed to overthrow my goings.”
hercule poirot essayed in a hesitant baritone.
“the proud have laid a snare for me,” he sang, “and spread a net with cords: yea, and set
traps in my way….”
his mouth remained open.
he saw it—saw clearly the trap into which he had so nearly fallen!
like a man in a trance hercule poirot remained, mouth open, staring into space. he remained
there as the congregation seated themselves with a rustle; until jane olivera tugged at his arm and
murmured a sharp, “sit down.”
hercule poirot sat down. an aged clergyman with a beard intoned: “here beginneth the
fifteenth chapter of the first book of samuel,” and began to read.
but poirot heard nothing of the smiting of the amalekites.
a snare cunningly laid—a net with cords—a pit open at his feet—dug carefully so that he
should fall into it.
he was in a daze—a glorious daze where isolated facts spun wildly round before settling neatly
into their appointed places.
it was like a kaleidoscope—shoe buckles, 10-inch stockings, a damaged face, the low tastes in
literature of alfred the page boy, the activities of mr. amberiotis, and the part played by the late
mr. morley, all rose up and whirled and settled themselves down into a coherent pattern.
for the first time, hercule poirot was looking at the case the right way up.
“for rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft and stubborness is as iniquity and idolatry. because
thou hast rejected the word of the lord he hath also rejected thee from being king. here endeth
the first lesson,” quavered the aged clergyman all in one breath.
as one in a dream, hercule poirot rose to praise the lord in the te deum.
