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a book of scoundrels(流浪之书)-第43章

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passengers to Flushing; when they were bound for Leith; and compels
every one to confess his charm!  The thief; also; found him irresistible;
and while the game lasted; the flash kens of Edinburgh murmured the
Deacon's name in the hushed whisper of respect。        
     His fine temperament disarmed treachery。  In London he visited an
ancient doxy of his own; who; with her bully; shielded him from justice;
though betrayal would have met with an ample reward。  Smith; if he
knew himself the superior craftsman; trembled at the Deacon's nod; who
thus swaggered it through life; with none to withhold the exacted
reverence。  To this same personal compulsion he owed his worldly
advancement。  Deacon of the Wrights' Guild while still a young man; he
served upon the Council; was known for one of Edinburgh's honoured
citizens; and never went abroad unmarked by the finger of respectful envy。
He was elected in 1773 a member of the Cape Club; and met at the Isle of
Man Arms in Craig's Close the wittiest men of his time and town。
Raeburn; Runciman; and Ferguson the poet were of the society; and it was
with such as these that Brodie might have wasted his vacant hour。  Indeed;
at the very moment that he was cracking cribs and shaking the ivories; he
was a chosen leader of fashion and gaiety; and it was the elegance of the
‘gentleman' that distinguished him from his fellows。   
     The fop; indeed; had climbed the altitudes of life; the cracksman still
stumbled in the valleys。  If he had a ready cunning in the planning of an
enterprise; he must needs bungle at the execution; and had he not been
associated with George Smith; a king of scoundrels; there would be few
exploits to record。  And yet for the craft of housebreaker he had one solid
advantage: he knew the locks and bolts of Edinburgh as he knew his
primerfor had he not fashioned the most of them himself?  But; his
knowledge once imparted to his accomplices; he cheerfully sank to a
menial's office。  In no job did he play a principal's part: he was merely
told off by Smith or another to guard the entrance and sound the alarm。
When M‘Kain's on the Bridge was broken; the Deacon found the false
keys; it was Smith who carried off such poor booty as was found。  And
though the master suggested the attack upon Bruce's shop; knowing full
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                                       A BOOK OF SCOUNDRELS
well the simplicity of the lock; he lingered at the Vintner's over a game of
hazard; and let the man pouch a sumptuous booty。       
     Even the onslaught upon the Excise Office; which cost his life; was
contrived with appalling clumsiness。  The Deacon of the Wrights' Guild;
who could slash wood at his will; who knew the artifice of every lock in
the city; let his men go to work with no better implements than the stolen
coulter of a plough and a pair of spurs。  And when they tackled the ill
omened job; Brodie was of those who brought failure upon it。  Long had
they watched the door of the Excise; long had they studied the habits of its
clerks; so that they went to work in no vain spirit of experiment。  Nor on
the fatal night did they force an entrance until they had dogged the porter
to his home。  Smith and Brown ransacked the place for money; while
Brodie and Andrew Ainslie remained without to give a necessary warning。
Whereupon Ainslie was seized with fright; and Brodie; losing his head;
called off the others; so that six hundred pounds were left; that might have
been an easy prey。  Smith; indignant at the collapse of the long… pondered
design; laid the blame upon his master; and they swung; as Brodie's grim
spirit of farce suggested; for four pounds apiece。     
     The humours of the situation were all the Deacon's own。  He dressed
the part in black; his respectability grinned behind a vizard; and all the
while he trifled nonchalantly with a pistol。  Breaking the silence with
snatches from The Beggar's Opera; he promised that all their lead should
turn to gold; christened the coulter and the crow the Great and Little
Samuel; and then went off to drink and dice at the Vintner's。  How could
anger prevail against this undying gaiety?  And if Smith were peevish at
failure; he was presently reconciled; and prepared once more to die for his
Deacon。                                                
     Even after escape; the amateur is still apparent。  True; he managed the
trip to Flushing with his ancient extravagance; true; he employed all the
juggleries of the law to prevent his surrender at Amsterdam。  But he
knew not the caution of the born criminal; and he was run to earth;
because he would still write to his friends like a gentleman。  His letters;
during this nightmare of disaster; are perfect in their carelessness and
good…fellowship。  In this he demands news of his children; as becomes a
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                                       A BOOK OF SCOUNDRELS
father and a citizen; and furnishes a schedule of their education; in that he
is curious concerning the issue of a main; and would know whether his
black cock came off triumphant。  Nor; even in flight; did he forget his
proper craft; but would have his tools sent to Charleston; that in America
he might resume the trade that had made him Deacon。    
     But his was the art of conduct; not of guile; and he deserved capture
for his rare indifference。  Why; then; with no natural impulsion; did he
risk the gallows?  Why; being no born thief; and innocent of the thief's
cunning; did he associate with so clever a scoundrel as George Smith; with
cowards craven as Brown and Ainslie?  The greed of gold; doubtless; half
persuaded him; but gold was otherwise attainable; and the motive was
assuredly far more subtle。  Brodie; in fact; was of a romantic turn。  He
was; so to say; a glorified schoolboy; surfeited with penny dreadfuls。  He
loved above all things to patter the flash; to dream himself another
Macheath; to trick himself out with all the trappings of a crime he was
unfit to commit。  It was never the job itself that attracted him: he would
always rather throw the dice than force a neighbour's window。  But he
must needs have a distraction from the respectability of his life。
Everybody was at his feet; he was Deacon of his Guild; at an age whereat
his fellows were striving to earn a reputable living; his masterpieces were
fashioned; and the wrights' trade was already a burden。  To go upon the
cross seemed a dream of freedom; until he snapped his fingers at the world;
filled his mouth with slang; prepared his alibi; and furnished him a whole
wardrobe of disguises。                                 
     With a conscious irony; maybe; he buried his pistols beneath the
domestic hearth; jammed his dark lantern into the press; where he kept his
game…cocks; and determined to make an inextricable jumble of his career。
Drink is sometimes a sufficient reaction against the orderliness of a
successful life。                                       
     But drink and cards failed with the Deacon; and at the Vintner's of his
frequentat
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