a book of scoundrels(流浪之书)-第32章

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Marquis　loved　not　the　lean；　ogling　instructor　of　his　sons；　and　presently
began　to　assail　him　with　all　the　abuse　of　which　he　was　master。　　He
charged　the　Abb　he　received　with　a　grin
complacent　as　Shylock's；　for　was　he　not　conscious　that　when　he　liked　the
pound　of　flesh　was　his　own！　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　
　　　　　With　a　fiend's　duplicity　he　laid　his　plans　of　ruin　and　death。　　The
Marquise；　swayed　to　his　will；　received　him　secretly　in　the　blue　room
（whose　very　colour　suggests　a　guilty　intrigue）；　though　never；　upon　the　oath
of　an　Abb's
dictation；　and　when　her　husband　returned　to　St。　Amand　he　was　instantly
thrust　into　prison。　　Nothing　remained　but　to　cajole　the　sons　into　an
expressed　hatred　of　their　father；　and　the　last　enormity　was　committed　by　a
masterpiece　of　cunning。　　‘Your　father's　one　chance　of　escape；'　argued　this
villain　in　a　cassock；　‘is　to　be　proved　an　inhuman　ruffian。　　Swear　that　he
beat　you　unmercifully　and　you　will　save　him　from　the　guillotine。'　　All　the
dupes　learned　their　lesson　with　a　certainty　which　reflects　infinite　credit
upon　the　Abb's　character
was　revealed　before　he　parted　his　lips　in　speech。　　Unmoved　he　stood　and
immovable；　he　treated　the　imprecations　of　the　Marquis　with　a　cold　disdain；
as　the　burden　of　proof　grew　heavy　on　his　back；　he　shrugged　his　shoulders
in　weary　indifference。　　He　told　his　monstrous　story　with　a　cynical
contempt；　which　has　scarce　its　equal　in　the　history　of　crime；　and　priest；　as
he　was；　he　proved　that　he　did　not　yield　to　the　Marquis　himself　in　the
Rabelaisian　amplitude　of　his　vocabulary。　　He　brought　charges　against　the
weird　world　of　Presles　with　an　insouciance　and　brutality　which　defeated
their　own　aim。　　He　described　the　vices　of　his　master　and　the　sins　of　the
servants　in　a　slang　which　would　sit　more　gracefully　upon　an　idle　roysterer
than　upon　a　pious　Abb