oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第15部分

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ease　and　expedition　that　showed　that　he　was　well　acquainted　with　
them。　He　threw　open　the　door　of　a　back　room；　and　drew　Oliver　in　
after　him。　

The　walls　and　ceiling　of　the　room　were　perfectly　black；　with　age　
and　dirt。　There　was　a　deal　table　before　the　fire：　upon　which　were　a　
candle；　stuck　in　a　ginger…beer　bottle；　two　or　three　pewter　pots；　a　
loaf　and　butter；　and　a　plate。　In　a　frying…pan；　which　was　on　the　fire；　
and　which　was　secured　to　the　mantel…shelf　by　a　string；　some　
sausages　were　cooking；　and　standing　over　them；　with　a　toasting…
fork　in　his　hand；　was　a　very　old；　shrivelled　Jew；　whose　villainous…
looking　and　repulsive　face　was　obscured　by　a　quantity　of　matted　
red　hair。　He　was　dressed　in　a　greasy　flannel　gown；　with　his　throat　
bare；　and　seemed　to　be　dividing　his　attention　between　the　frying…
pan　and　the　clothes…horse；　over　which　a　great　number　of　silk　
handkerchiefs　were　hanging。　Several　rough　beds　made　of　old　
sacks；　were　huddled　side　by　side　on　the　floor。　Seated　round　the　
table　were　four　or　five　boys；　none　older　than　the　Dodger；　smoking　
long　clay　pipes；　and　drinking　spirits　with　the　air　of　middle…aged　
men。　These　all　crowded　about　their　associate　as　he　whispered　a　
few　words　to　the　Jew；　and　then　turned　round　and　grinned　at　
Oliver。　So　did　the　Jew　himself；　toasting…fork　in　hand。　

“This　is　him；　Fagin；”　said　Jack　Dawkins；　“my　friend；　Oliver　
Twist。”　

The　Jew　grinned；　and；　making　a　low　obeisance　to　Oliver；　took　
him　by　the　hand；　and　hoped　he　should　have　the　honour　of　his　
intimate　acquaintance。　Upon　this；　the　young　gentlemen　with　the　
pipes　came　round　him；　and　shook　both　his　hands　very　hard—　

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Oliver　Twist　

especially　the　one　in　which　he　held　his　little　bundle。　One　young　
gentleman　was　very　anxious　to　hang　up　his　cap　for　him；　and　
another　was　so　obliging　as　to　put　his　hands　in　his　pockets；　in　order　
that；　as　he　was　very　tired；　he　might　not　have　the　trouble　of　
emptying　them；　himself；　when　he　went　to　bed。　These　civilities　
would　probably　have　been　extended　much　further；　but　for　a　liberal　
exercise　of　the　Jew’s　toasting…fork　on　the　heads　and　shoulders　of　
the　affectionate　youths　who　offered　them。　

“We　are　very　glad　to　see　you；　Oliver—very；”　said　the　Jew。　
“Dodger；　take　off　the　sausages；　and　draw　a　tub　near　the　fire　for　
Oliver。　Ah；　you’re　a…staring　at　the　pocket…handkerchiefs！　eh；　my　
dear！　There　are　a　good　many　of　’em；　ain’t　there？　We’ve　just　looked　
’em　out；　ready　for　the　wash；　that’s　all；　Oliver；　that’s　all。　Ha！　ha！　
ha！”　

The　latter　part　of　this　speech　was　hailed　by　a　boisterous　shout　
from　all　the　hopeful　pupils　of　the　merry　old　gentleman。　In　the　
midst　of　which；　they　went　to　supper。　

Oliver　ate　his　share；　and　the　Jew　then　mixed　him　a　glass　of　hot　
gin…and…water；　telling　him　he　must　drink　it　off　directly；　because　
another　gentleman　wanted　the　tumbler。　Oliver　did　as　he　was　
desired。　Immediately　afterwards　he　felt　himself　gently　lifted　on　to　
one　of　the　sacks；　and　then　he　sank　into　a　deep　sleep。　

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Chapter　9　

Containing　Further　Particulars　Concerning　The
Pleasant　Old　Gentleman；　And　His　Hopeful　Pupils。


It　was　late　next　morning　when　Oliver　awoke；　from　a　sound；　
long　sleep。　There　was　no　other　person　in　the　room　but　the　old　
Jew；　who　was　boiling　some　coffee　in　a　saucepan　for　breakfast；　
and　whistling　softly　to　himself　as　he　stirred　it　round　and　round；　
with　an　iron　spoon。　He　would　stop　every　now　and　then　to　listen　
when　there　was　the　least　noise　below；　and　when　he　had　satisfied　
himself；　he　would　go　on；　whistling　and　stirring　again；　as　before。　

Although　Oliver　had　roused　himself　from　sleep；　he　was　not　
thoroughly　awake。　There　is　a　drowsy　state；　between　sleeping　and　
waking；　when　you　dream　more　in　five　minutes　with　your　eyes　half…
open；　and　yourself　half…conscious　of　everything　that　is　passing　
around　you；　than　you　would　in　five　nights　with　your　eyes　fast　
closed；　and　your　senses　wrapped　in　perfect　unconsciousness。　At　
such　times；　a　mortal　knows　just　enough　of　what　his　mind　is　doing；　
to　form　some　glimmering　conception　of　its　mighty　powers；　its　
bounding　from　earth　and　spurning　time　and　space；　when　freed　
from　the　restraint　of　its　corporeal　associate。　

Oliver　was　precisely　in　this　condition。　He　saw　the　Jew　with　his　
half…closed　eyes；　heard　his　low　whistling；　and　recognised　the　
sound　of　the　spoon　grating　against　the　saucepan’s　sides；　and　yet　
the　self…same　senses　were　mentally　engaged；　at　the　same　time；　in　
busy　action　with　almost　everybody　he　had　ever　known。　

When　the　coffee　was　done；　the　Jew　drew　the　saucepan　to　the　

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Oliver　Twist　

hob。　Standing；　then；　in　an　irresolute　attitude　for　a　few　minutes；　as　
if　he　did　not　well　know　how　to　employ　himself；　he　turned　round　
and　looked　at　Oliver；　and　called　him　by　his　name。　He　did　not　
answer；　and　was　to　all　appearance　asleep。　

After　satisfying　himself　upon　this　head；　the　Jew　stepped　gently　
to　the　door；　which　he　fastened。　He　then　drew　forth；　as　it　seemed　to　
Oliver；　from　some　trap　in　the　floor；　a　small　box；　which　he　placed　
carefully　on　the　table。　His　eyes　glistened　as　he　raised　the　lid；　and　
looked　in。　Dragging　an　old　chair　to　the　table；　he　sat　down；　and　
took　from　it　a　magnificent　gold　watch；　sparkling　with　jewels。　

“Aha！”　said　the　Jew；　shrugging　up　his　shoulders；　and　distorting　
every　feature　with　a　hideous　grin。　“Clever　dogs！　Clever　dogs！　
Staunch　to　the　last！　Never　told　the　old　parson　where　they　were。　
Never　peached　upon　old　Fagin！　And　why　should　they？　It　wouldn’t　
have　loosened　the　knot；　or　kept　the　drop　up；　a　minute　longer。　No；　
no；　no！　Fine　fellows！　Fine　fellows！”　

With　these；　and　other　muttered　reflections　of　the　like　nature；　
the　Jew　once　more　deposited　the　watch　in　its　place　of　safety。　At　
least　half　a　dozen　more　were　severally　drawn　forth　from　the　same　
box；　and　surveyed　with　equal　pleasure；　besides　rings；　brooches；　
bracelets；　and　other　articles　of　jewellery；　of　such　magnificent　
materials；　and　costly　workmanship；　that　Oliver　had　no　idea；　even　
of　their　names。　

Having　replaced　these　trinkets；　the　Jew　took　out　another；　so　
small　that　it　lay　in　the　palm　of　his　hand。　There　seemed　to　be　some　
very　minute　inscription　on　it；　for　the　Jew　laid　it　flat　upon　the　table；　
and；　shading　it　with　his　hand；　pored　over　it；　long　and　earnestly。　At　
length　he　put　it　down；　as　if　despairing　of　success；　and；　leaning　
back　in　his　chair；　muttered：　

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“What　a　line　thing　capital　punishment　is！　Dead　men　never　
repent；　dead　men　never　bring　awkward　stories　to　light。　Ah；　it’s　a　
fine　thing　for　the　trade！　Five　of　’em　strung　up　in　a　row；　and　none　
left　to　play　booty；　or　turn　white…livered！”　

As　the　Jew　uttered　these　words；　his　bright；　dark　eyes；　which　
had　been　staring　vacantly　before　him；　fell　on　Oliver’s　face；　the　
boy’s　eyes　were　fixed　on　his　in　mute　curiosity；　and　although　the　
recognition　was　only　for　an　instant—for　the　briefest　space　of　time　
that　can　possibly　be　conceived—it　was　enough　to　show　the　old　
man　that　he　had　been　observed。　He　closed　the　lid　of　the　box　with　a　
loud　crash；　and；　laying　his　hand　on　a　bread…knife　which　was　on　the　
table；　started　furiously　up。　He　trembled　very　much　though；　for；　
even　in　his　terror；　Oliver　could　see　that　the　knife　quivered　in　the　
air。　

“What’s　that？”　said　the　Jew。　“What　do　you　watch　me　for？　Why　
are　you　awake？　What　have　you　seen？　Speak　out；　boy！　Quick—　
quick！　for　your　life！”　

“I　wasn’t　able　to　sleep　any　longer；　sir；”　replied　Oliver　meekly。　“I　
am　very　sorry　if　I　have　disturbed　you；　sir。”　

“You　were　not　awake　an　hour　ago？”　said　the　Jew；　scowling　
fiercely　on　the　boy。　

“No！　No；　indeed！”　replied　Oliver。　

“Are　you　sure？”　cried　the　Jew；　with　a　still　fiercer　look　than　
before；　and　a　threatening　attitude。　

“Upon　my　word　I　was　not；　sir；”　replied　Oliver　earnestly。　“I　was　
not；　indeed；　sir。”　

“Tush；　tush；　my　dear！”　said　the　Jew；　abruptly　resuming　his　old　
manner；　and　playing　with　the　knife　a　little；　before　he　laid　it　down；　
as　if　to　induce　the　belief　that　he　had　caught　it　up；　in　mere　sport。　

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“Of　course　I　know　that；　my　dear。　I　only　tried　to　frighten　you。　
You’re　a　brave　boy。　Ha！　ha！　you’re　a　brave　boy；　Oliver！”　The　Jew　
rubbed　his　hands　with　a　chuckle；　but　glanced　uneasily　at　the　box；　
notwithstanding。　

“Did　you　see　any　of　these　pretty　things；　my　dear？”　said　the　Jew；　
laying　his　hand　upon　it　after　a　short　pause。　

“Yes；　sir；”　replied　Oliver。　

‘‘Ah！”　said　the　Jew；　turning　rather　pale。　“They—they’re　mine；　
Oliver；　my　little　property。　All　I　have　to　live　upon；　in　my　old　age。　
The　folks　call　me　a　miser；　my　dear。　Only　a　miser；　that’s　all。”　

Oliver　thought　the　old　gentleman　must　be　a　decided　miser　to　
live　in　such　a　dirty　place；　with　so　many　watches；　but；　thinking　that　
perhaps　his　fondness　for　the　Dodger　and　the　other　boys　cost　him　a　
good　deal　of　money；　he　only　cast　a　deferential　look　at　the　Jew；　and　
asked　if　he　might　get　up。　

“Certainly；　my　dear；　certainly；”　replied　the　old　gentleman。　

“Stay。　There’s　a　pitcher　of　water　in　the　corner　by　the　door。　
Bring　it　here：　and　I’ll　give　you　a　basin　to　wash　in；　my　dear。”　

Oliver　got　up；　walked　across　the　room；　and　stooped　for　an　
instant　to　raise　the　pitcher。　When　he　turned　his　head；　the　box　was　
gone。　

He　had　scarcely　washed　himself；　and　made　everything　tidy；　by　
emptying　the　basin　out　of　the　window；　agreeable　to　the　Jew’s　
directions；　when　the　Dodger　returned；　accompanied　by　a　very　
sprightly　young　friend；　whom　Oliver　had　seen　smoking　on　the　
previous　night；　and　who　was　now　formally　introduced　to　him　as　
Charley　Bates。　The　four　sat　down；　to　breakfast；　on　the　coffee；　and　
some　hot　rolls　and　ham　which　the　Dodger　had　brought　home　in　
the　crown　of　his　hat。　

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“Well；”　said　the　Jew；　glancing　slyly　at　Oliver；　and　addressing　
himself　to　the　Dodger；　“I　hope　you’ve　been　at　work　this　morning；　
my　dears？”　

“Hard；”　replied　the　Dodger。