Vices he had in
plenty in common with most men,--except that his particular form of
licentiousness was distinguished by a callousness and cruelty in
which there was no touch of redeeming quality. As a child he had
loved to tear the wings off flies and other insects, and one of his
keenest delights in boyhood had been to watch the writhings of frogs
into whose soft bodies he would stick long pins,--the frogs would
live under this treatment four and five hours--sometimes longer, and
while observing their agonies he enjoyed "that contented mind which
is a perpetual feast." Now that he was a man, he delighted in
torturing human beings after the same methods applied mentally,
whenever he could find a vulnerable part through which to thrust a
sharp spear of pain.
"The eminent Cardinal Bonpre!" he mused now; "What is he to me! If I
could force the Archbishop of Rouen into high favour at the Vatican
instead of this foolish old Saint Felix, it would be a better thing
for my future. After all, it was at Rouen that the miracle was
performed--the city should have some credit! And Bonpre has condoned
a heretic . . . he is growing old and feeble--possibly he is losing his
wits. And then there is that boy . .
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