But after going through the agony of the mental
deliberations which all humble, undecided, and feeble persons endure
about things of even no importance, he decided, not without much
swelling and beating of the heart, to explain his position to the Abbe
Troubert.
The canon listened in a cold, grave manner, trying, but in vain, to
repress an occasional smile which to more intelligent eyes than those
of the vicar might have betrayed the emotions of a secret
satisfaction. A flame seemed to dart from his eyelids when Birotteau
pictured with the eloquence of genuine feeling the constant bitterness
he was made to swallow; but Troubert laid his hand above those lids
with a gesture very common to thinkers, maintaining the dignified
demeanor which was usual with him. When the vicar had ceased to speak
he would indeed have been puzzled had he sought on Troubert's face,
marbled with yellow blotches even more yellow than his usually bilious
skin, for any trace of the feelings he must have excited in that
mysterious priest.
After a moment's silence the canon made one of those answers which
required long study before their meaning could be thoroughly
perceived, though later they proved to reflecting persons the
astonishing depths of his spirit and the power of his mind. He simply
crushed Birotteau by telling him that "these things amazed him all the
more because he should never have suspected their existence were it
not for his brother's confession.
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