第 2 节
作者:九十八度      更新:2021-02-21 16:18      字数:9322
  without contradiction; the master of Nemours。 Though he never thought
  of God or devil; being a practical materialist; just as he was a
  practical agriculturist; a practical egoist; and a practical miser;
  Minoret had enjoyed up to this time a life of unmixed happiness;if
  we can call pure materialism happiness。 A physiologist; observing the
  rolls of flesh which covered the last vertebrae and pressed upon the
  giant's cerebellum; and; above all; hearing the shrill; sharp voice
  which contrasted so absurdly with his huge body; would have understood
  why this ponderous; coarse being adored his only son; and why he had
  so long expected him;a fact proved by the name; Desire; which was
  given to the child。
  The mother; whom the boy fortunately resembled; rivaled the father in
  spoiling him。 No child could long have resisted the effects of such
  idolatry。 As soon as Desire knew the extent of his power he milked his
  mother's coffer and dipped into his father's purse; making each author
  of his being believe that he; or she; alone was petitioned。 Desire;
  who played a part in Nemours far beyond that of a prince royal in his
  father's capital; chose to gratify his fancies in Paris just as he had
  gratified them in his native town; he had therefore spent a yearly sum
  of not less than twelve thousand francs during the time of his legal
  studies。 But for that money he had certainly acquired ideas that would
  never had come to him in Nemours; he had stripped off the provincial
  skin; learned the power of money and seen in the magistracy a means of
  advancement which he fancied。 During the last year he had spent an
  extra sum of ten thousand francs in the company of artists;
  journalists; and their mistresses。 A confidential and rather
  disquieting letter from his son; asking for his consent to a marriage;
  explains the watch which the post master was now keeping on the
  bridge; for Madame Minoret…Levrault; busy in preparing a sumptuous
  breakfast to celebrate the triumphal return of the licentiate; had
  sent her husband to the mail road; advising him to take a horse and
  ride out if he saw nothing of the diligence。 The coach which was
  conveying the precious son usually arrived at five in the morning and
  it was now nine! What could be the meaning of such delay? Was the
  coach overturned? Could Desire be dead? Or was it nothing worse than a
  broken leg?
  Three distinct volleys of cracking whips rent the air like a discharge
  of musketry; the red waistcoats of the postilions dawned in sight; ten
  horses neighed。 The master pulled off his cap and waved it; he was
  seen。 The best mounted postilion; who was returning with two gray
  carriage…horses; set spurs to his beast and came on in advance of the
  five diligence horses and the three other carriage…horses; and soon
  reached his master。
  〃Have you seen the 'Ducler'?〃
  On the great mail routes names; often fantastic; are given to the
  different coaches; such; for instance; as the 〃Caillard;〃 the 〃Ducler〃
  (the coach between Nemours and Paris); the 〃Grand Bureau。〃 Every new
  enterprise is called the 〃Competition。〃 In the days of the Lecompte
  company their coaches were called the 〃Countess。〃〃'Caillard' could
  not overtake the 'Countess'; but 'Grand Bureau' caught up with her
  finely;〃 you will hear the men say。 If you see a postilion pressing
  his horses and refusing a glass of wine; question the conductor and he
  will tell you; snuffing the air while his eye gazes far into space;
  〃The 'Competition' is ahead。〃〃We can't get in sight of her;〃 cries
  the postilion; 〃the vixen! she wouldn't stop to let her passengers
  dine。〃〃The question is; has she got any?〃 responds the conductor。
  〃Give it to Polignac!〃 All lazy and bad horses are called Polignac。
  Such are the jokes and the basis of conversation between postilions
  and conductors on the roofs of the coaches。 Each profession; each
  calling in France has its slang。
  〃Have you seen the 'Ducler'?〃 asked Minoret。
  〃Monsieur Desire?〃 said the postilion; interrupting his master。 〃Hay!
  you must have heard us; didn't our whips tell you? we felt you were
  somewhere along the road。〃
  Just then a woman dressed in her Sunday clothes;for the bells were
  pealing from the clock tower and calling the inhabitants to mass;a
  woman about thirty…six years of age came up to the post master。
  〃Well; cousin;〃 she said; 〃you wouldn't believe me Uncle is with
  Ursula in the Grand'Rue; and they are going to mass。〃
  In spite of the modern poetic canons as to local color; it is quite
  impossible to push realism so far as to repeat the horrible blasphemy
  mingled with oaths which this news; apparently so unexciting; brought
  from the huge mouth of Minoret…Levrault; his shrill voice grew
  sibilant; and his face took on the appearance of what people oddly
  enough call a sunstroke。
  〃Is that true?〃 he asked; after the first explosion of his wrath was
  over。
  The postilions bowed to their master as they and their horses passed
  him; but he seemed to neither see nor hear them。 Instead of waiting
  for his son; Minoret…Levrault hurried up to the Grand'Rue with his
  cousin。
  〃Didn't I always tell you so?〃 she resumed。 〃When Doctor Minoret goes
  out of his head that demure little hypocrite will drag him into
  religion; whoever lays hold of the mind gets hold of the purse; and
  she'll have our inheritance。〃
  〃But; Madame Massin〃 said the post master; dumbfounded。
  〃There now!〃 exclaimed Madame Massin; interrupting her cousin。 〃You
  are going to say; just as Massin does; that a little girl of fifteen
  can't invent such plans and carry them out; or make an old man of
  eighty…three; who has never set foot in a church except to be married;
  change his opinions;now don't tell me he has such a horror of
  priests that he wouldn't even go with the girl to the parish church
  when she made her first communion。 I'd like to know why; if Doctor
  Minoret hates priests; he has spent nearly every evening for the last
  fifteen years of his life with the Abbe Chaperon。 The old hypocrite
  never fails to give Ursula twenty francs for wax tapers every time she
  takes the sacrament。 Have you forgotten the gift Ursula made to the
  church in gratitude to the cure for preparing her for her first
  communion? She spent all her money on it; and her godfather returned
  it to her doubled。 You men! you don't pay attention to things。 When I
  heard that; I said to myself; 'Farewell baskets; the vintage is done!'
  A rich uncle doesn't behave that way to a little brat picked up in the
  streets without some good reason。〃
  〃Pooh; cousin; I dare say the good man is only taking her to the door
  of the church;〃 replied the post master。 〃It is a fine day; and he is
  out for a walk。〃
  〃I tell you he is holding a prayer…book; and looks sanctimonious
  you'll see him。〃
  〃They hide their game pretty well;〃 said Minoret; 〃La Bougival told me
  there was never any talk of religion between the doctor and the abbe。
  Besides; the abbe is one of the most honest men on the face of the
  globe; he'd give the shirt off his back to a poor man; he is incapable
  of a base action; and to cheat a family out of their inheritance is〃
  〃Theft;〃 said Madame Massin。
  〃Worse!〃 cried Minoret…Levrault; exasperated by the tongue of his
  gossiping neighbour。
  〃Of course I know;〃 said Madame Massin; 〃that the Abbe Chaperon is an
  honest man; but he is capable of anything for the sake of his poor。 He
  must have mined and undermined uncle; and the old man has just tumbled
  into piety。 We did nothing; and here he is perverted! A man who never
  believed in anything; and had principles of his own! Well! we're done
  for。 My husband is absolutely beside himself。〃
  Madame Massin; whose sentences were so many arrows stinging her fat
  cousin; made him walk as fast as herself; in spite of his obesity and
  to the great astonishment of the church…goers; who were on their way
  to mass。 She was determined to overtake this uncle and show him to the
  post master。
  Nemours is commanded on the Gatinais side by a hill; at the foot of
  which runs the road to Montargis and the Loing。 The church; on the
  stones of which time has cast a rich discolored mantle (it was rebuilt
  in the fourteenth century by the Guises; for whom Nemours was raised
  to a peerage…duchy); stands at the end of the little town close to a
  great arch which frames it。 For buildings; as for men; position does
  everything。 Shaded by a few trees; and thrown into relief by a neatly
  kept square; this solitary church produces a really grandiose effect。
  As the post master of Nemours entered the open space; he beheld his
  uncle with the young girl called Ursula on his arm; both carrying
  prayer…books and just entering the church。 The old man took off his
  hat in the porch; and his head; which was white as a hill…top covered
  with snow; shone among the shadows of the portal。
  〃Well; Minoret; what do you say to the conversion of your uncle?〃
  cried t