（
从零开始）（
斗破苍穹续集：王者之途）（
最强兵王）（
天下无双之王妃太嚣张）（
中华第四帝国）（
抗日之兵魂传说）by guymaupassant
they called him saint anthony, because his name was anthony, and also, perhaps, becausewaood fellow, jovial, a loverpractical jokes, a tremendous eater aneavy drinker anay fellow, althoughwas sixty years old.
he waig peasantthe districtcaux, wited face, large chest and stomach, and perchedtwo legs that seemed too slight for the bulkhis body.
he waidower and lived alone with his two men servants anaidhis farm, whichconducted with shrew was carefulhis own interests, understood business and the raisingcattle,two sons and his three daughters, who had married well, were livingthe neighborhood and camedine with their father once vigorbody was famousall the countryside.“heas strongsaint anthony.” had beindproverb.
at the timethe prussian invasion saint anthony,the wine shop, promisedeatarmy, forwaraggart, likrue norman, a bita coward and banged his fistthe wooden table, making the cups and the brandy glasses dance, and cried with the assumed wratha good fellow, witlushed face anly lookhis eye:“i shall haveeat somethem, nomdieu!”reckoned that the prussians would not efartanneville, but whenheard they wererautotnever went outthe house, and constantly watched the road from the little windowhis kitchen, expectingany momentsee the bayosby.
one morninghe was eating his luncheon with the servants the door opened and the mayorthe mune, maitre chicot, appeared, followeda soldier wearinlack copper pointe anthony boundedhis feet and his servants all lookedhim, expectingsee him slashhe merely shook hands with the mayor, who said:“hereone for you, sain came las’tanything foolish, above all things, for they talkedshooting and burning everythingtherethe slightest unpleasantness, i have givenhim somethingeat;looks likoo day. igoingcallth are enough for all.” andwent out.
father anthony, who had turned pale, lookedth waig, young fellow with plump, white skin, blue eyes, fair hair, unshavenhis cheek bones, who looked stupid, timidshrewd norman read himonce, and, reassured,made hiignsisaid:“will you take some soup?”
the stranger didthen became bolder, and pushinlatefulsoup right under his nose,said:“here, swallow that, big pig!”
the soldier answered “ya,” and beganeat greedily, while the farmer, triumphant, feelinghad regained his reputation, winked his eyethe servants, who were making strange grimaces, what with their terror and their desirelaugh.
when the prussian had devoured his soup, saint anthony gave him another plateful, which disappearedlike manner; butflinchedthe third which the farmer triedinsisthis eating, saying:“e, put that into your stomach; ’twill fatten youityour own fault, eh, pig!”
the soldier, understanding only that they wantedmake him eat all his soup, laugheda contented manner, makinignshow thatcould not hold any more.
then saint anthony, bee quite familiar, tapped himthe stomach, saying: “my, thereplentymy pig’s belly!” but suddenlybeganwrithe with laughter, unabldea had struck him which made him choke with mirth.“that’s it, that’s it, saint anthony and hi’spig!” and the three servants burst out laughingtheir turn.
the old fellow waspleased thathad the brandy brought in, good stuff, ‘fildix’, and treated ever clinked glasses with the prussian, who clacked his tonguewayflatteryshow thatenjoyed it. and saint anthony exclaimedhis face:“eh,not that superfine?you don’t get anything like thatyour home, pig!”
from that time father anthony never went out withouthad got whaas his vengeance, the vengeanceanthe whole countryside, which wasterror, laughedsplit its sidessaint anthony’, there wasone like him whencamne butwould have thoughta thing lik waorn joker!
he wentsee his neighbors every day, armarm with his german, whomintroduceda jovial manner, tapping himthe shoulder:“see, heremy pig; look and seehenot growing fat, the animal!”
and the peasants would beam with smiles.“heso ical, that reckless fellow, antoine!”
“i will sell himyou, cesaire, for three pistoles” (thirty francs).
“i will take him, antoine, annvite youeat some black pudding.”
“whaanthis feet.”
“feel his belly; you will see thatis all fat.”
and they all winkedeach other, but dared not laugh too loud, for fear the prussian might finally suspect they were laughing a, alone growing bolder every day, pinched his thighs, exclaiming, “nothing but fat”; tapped himthe back, shouting, “thatall bacon”; lifted himin his armsan old colossus that could have liftedanvil, declaring, “he weighs six hundred andwaste.”
he had got into the habitmaking people offer his “pig” somethingeat wherever they wen was the chief pleasure, the great diversion every day. “give him whatever you please,will swallow everything.” and they offered the man bread and butter, potatoes, cold meat, chitterlings, which caused the remark, “someyour own, and choice ones.”
the soldier, stupid and gentle, ate from politeness, charmedthese attentions, making himself ill rather than refuse, andwas actually growing fat and his uniform being tightdelighted saint anthony, who said:“you know,pig, thatshall havehave another cage made for you.”
they had, however, bee the best friendsthe world, and when the old fellow wentattendhis businessthe neighborhood the prussian acpanied him for the simple pleasurebeing with him.
the weather was severe;was freezin terrible winter1870 seemedbring all the scourgesfranceoime.
father antoine, who made provision beforehand, and took advantageevery opportunity, foreseeing that manure wouldscarce for the spring farming, bought froeighbor who happenedbeneedmoney all thathad, andwas agreed thatshouldevery evening with his cartgeoad.
so every daytwilightset out for the farmhaules, haleague distant, always acpaniedhis “pig.” and each timewaestival, feedingthe neighbors ran over therethey wouldto high masssunday.
but the soldier begansuspect something,mistrustful, and when they laughed too loudwould roll his eyes uneasily, and sometimes they lightedwith anger.
one evening whenhad eaten his fillrefusedswallow another morsel, and attemptedriseleavesaint anthony stopped hima turnthe wrist and, placing his two powerful handshis shoulders,sat him down againroughly that the chair smashed under him.
a wild burstlaughter broke forth, and anthony, beaming, pickedhis pig, actedthoughwere dressing his wounds, and exclaimed:“since you will not eat, you shall drink, nomdieu!” and they wentthe wine shopget some brandy.
the soldier rolled his eyes, which haicked expression, butdrank, nevertheless;dranklongthey wanted him, and saint anthony held his headthe great delighthis panions.
the norman, reda tomato, his eyes ablaze, filledthe glasses and clinked, saying: “here’syou!”.and the prussian, without speakinord, poured down one after another glassfulscognac.
it waontest, a battle, a revenge!who would drink the most, nom d’un nom!they could neitherthem stand any more when the literneitherwere tied, thatwould havebegin again the next day.
they went out staggering and started for home, walking beside the dung cart which was drawn along slowlytwo horses.
snow beganfall and the moonless night was sadly lightedthis dead whitenessth men beganfeel the cold, and this aggravated thei anthony, annoyednot being the victor, amused himselfshoving his panionasmake him fall over intoother would dodge backwards, and each timediduttered some german expressionan angry tone, which made the peasant roar wit the prussian lost his temper, and justanthony was rolling towards himresponded with sucerrific blow with his fist that the colossus staggered.
then, excitedthe brandy, the old man seized the pugilist round the waist, shook him foew momentshe would have done witittle child, and pitched himrandomthe other sideth, satisfied with this piecework,crossed his arms and beganlaugh afresh.
but the soldier picked himselfiurry, his head bare, his helmet having rolled off, and drawing his swordrushed overfather anthony.
whensaw him ing the peasant seized his whipthe topthe handle, his big holly wood whip, straight, strong and supplethe sinewan ox.
the prussian approached, his head down, makinunge with his sword, surekillingthe old fellow, squarely hitting the blade, the pointwhich would have pierced his stomach, turnedaside, and with the butt endthe whip struck the soldieharp blowthe temple andfellthe ground.
then he, gazed aghast, stupefied with amazement,the body, twitching convulsivelyfirst and then lying pronebent over it, turnedon its back, and gazedit for som man’s eyes were closed, and blood trickled frooundthe sidehiwas dark, father anthony could distinguish the bloodstainthe white snow.
he remained there,his wit’s end, while his cart continued slowlyits way.
what wasto do?he wouldshot!they would burn his farm, ruin his district!what shoulddo?what shoulddo?how couldhide the body, conceal the facthis death, deceive the prussians?he heard voicesthe distance, amid the utter stillnessthonceroused himself, and pickingthe helmetplacedon his victim’, seizing him round the body,lifted himin his arms, and thus running with him,overtook his team, and threw the bodytopthhis own housewould thinksome plan.
he walked slowly, racking his brain, but withou saw,felt, thatwa enteredwas shiningonethe attic windows; his maid washastily backed his wagonthe edgethe manur thought thatoverturning the manure the body lyingtopit would fall into the ditch andburied beneath it, anddumped the cart.
ashad foreseen, the man was buried beneatheveneddown with his fork, whichstuckthe ground beside it.he called his stableman, told himputthe horses, and wenthis room.
he wentbed, still thinkingwhathad best do, butideas campprehension increasedthe quiethi would shoot him!he was bathedperspiration from fear, his teeth chattered,rose shivering, not being ablestaybed.
he went downstairsthe kitchen, took the bottlebrandy from the sideboard and carrierank two large glasses, one after another, addinresh intoxicationthe late one, without quieting his menta had donretty strokework, nomdieu, idiot!
he pacedand down, tryingthinksome stratagem, some explanations, some cunning trick, and from timetimerinsed his mouth witwallow“fildix”give him courage.
butideas camehim, not one.
towards midnight his watch dog, a kindcross wolf called “devorant,” beganhow anthony shudderedthe marrowhis bones, and each time the beast began his long and lugubrious wail the old man’s skin turnedgoose flesh.
he had sunk inthair, his legs weak, stupefied, done up, waiting anxiously for “devorant”setanother howl, and starting convulsively from nervousness causedterror.
the clock downstairs struc dog was stil peasant was almos rosego and let the dog loose,thatshould not hea went downstairs, opened the hall door, and stepped out intosnow was stil earth was all white, the farm buildings standing out like blac approacheddog was dragginghi unfastened it. “devorant” gavound, then stopped short, his hair bristling, his legs rigid, his muzzlethe air, his nose pointed towards the manure heap.
saint anthony, trembling from headfoot, faltered:“what’s the matter with you, you dirty hound?” andwalkeew steps forward, gazingthe indistinct outlines, the sombre shadowthe courtyard.
thensaorm, the forma man sittingthe manure heap!
he gazedit, paralyzedfear, and breathin alloncesaw, close by, the handlethe manure fork which was stickingth snatchedup andonethose transportsfear that will make the greatest coward braverushed forwardsee whatwas.
it was he, his prussian, elife, covered with filth from his bedmanure which had kepthad sat down mechanically, and remained therethe snow which sprinkled down, all covered with dirt and bloodhe was, and still stupid from drinking, dazedthe blow and exhausted from his wound.
he perceived anthony, and too soddenunderstand anything,madeattemphe moment the old man recognized him,foamed with rage likild animal.
“ah, pig!pig!”sputtered.“you are not dead!you are goingdenouncenow wait wait!”
and rushingthe german with all the strengthleis armsflung the raised fork likance and buried the four prongs full lengthhis breast.
the soldier fell overhis back, utterinong death moan, while the old peasant, drawing the fork outhis breast, plungedover and over again into his abdomen, his stomach, his throat, likadman, piercing the body from headfoot,it still quivered, and the blood gushed outstreams.
finallystopped, exhaustedhis arduous work, swallowing great mouthfulsair, calmed downthe pletionthe murder.
as the cocks were beginningcrowthe poultry yard andwas near daybreak,setworkbury the man.
he duolethe manure tillreached the earth, dug down further, working wildly,a frenzystrength with frantic motionshis arms and body.
when the pit was deep enoughrolled the corpse intowith the fork, coveredwith earth, whichstamped down for some time, and then put back the manure, andsmiledhe saw the thick snow finishing his work and coveringits traces withite sheet.
he then stuck the forkthe manure and went intobottle, still half fullbrandy stoodth emptiedaraught, threw himselfhis bed and slept heavily.
he wokesober, his mind calm and clear, capablejudgment and thought.
at the endan hourwas going about the country making inquiries everywhere forwentsee the prussian officerfind out why they had taken away his man.
as everyone knew what good friends they were,one suspecte even directed the research, declaring that the prussian wentsee the girls every evening.
m.pi.co
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