oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第23部分

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of　the　Jew。　

Mr。　Bill　Sikes　no　sooner　heard　the　account　of　the　expedition　
delivered；　than　he　very　hastily　called　up　the　white　dog；　and　putting　
on　his　hat；　expeditiously　departed；　without　devoting　any　time　to　
the　formality　of　wishing　the　company　good…morning。　

“We　must　know　where　he　is；　my　dears；　he　must　be　found；”　said　
the　Jew；　greatly　excited。　“Charley；　do　nothing　but　skulk　about；　till　
you　bring　home　some　news　of　him！　Nancy；　my　dear；　I　must　have　
him　found。　I　trust　to　you；　my　dear—to　you　and　the　Artful　for　
everything！　Stay；　stay；”　added　the　Jew；　unlocking　a　drawer　with　a　
shaking　hand；　“there’s　money；　my　dears。　I　shall　shut　up　his　shop　
tonight。　You’ll　know　where　to　find　me！　Don’t　stop　here　a　minute。　
Not　an　instant；　my　dears！”　

With　these　words；　he　pushed　them　from　the　room：　and　carefully　
double…locking　and　barring　the　door　behind　them；　drew　from　its　
place　of　concealment　the　box　which　he　had　unintentionally　
disclosed　to　Oliver。　Then；　he　hastily　proceeded　to　dispose　the　
watches　and　jewellery　beneath　his　clothing。　

A　rap　at　the　door　startled　him　in　this　occupation。　“Who’s　
there？”　he　cried；　in　a　shrill　tone。　

“Me！”　replied　the　voice　of　the　Dodger；　through　the　keyhole。　

“What　now？”　cried　the　Jew　impatiently。　

“Is　he　to　be　kidnapped　to　the　other　ken；　Nancy　says？”　inquired　

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the　Dodger。　

“Yes；”　replied　the　Jew；　“wherever　she　lays　hands　on　him。　Find　
him；　find　him　out；　that’s　all！　I　shall　know　what　to　do　next；　never　
fear。”　

The　boy　murmured　a　reply　of　intelligence；　and　hurried　
downstairs　after　his　companions。　

“He　has　not　peached　so　far；”　said　the　Jew　as　he　pursued　his　
occupation。　“If　he　means　to　blab　us　among　his　new　friends；　we　
may　stop　his　mouth　yet。”　

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Chapter　14　

Comprising　Further　Particulars　Of　Oliver’s　Stay　At
Mr。　Brownlow’s；　With　The　Remarkable　Prediction
Which　One　Mr。　Grimwig　Uttered　Concerning　Him；
When　He　Went　Out　On　An　Errand。


O　liver　soon　recovering　from　the　fainting　fit　into　which　Mr。　
Brownlow’s　abrupt　exclamation　had　thrown　him　the　
subject　of　the　picture　was　carefully　avoided；　both　by　the　
old　gentleman　and　Mrs。　Bedwin；　in　the　conversation　that　ensued；　
which　indeed　bore　no　reference　to　Oliver’s　history　or　prospects　
but　was　confined　to　such　topics　as　might　amuse　without　exciting　
him。　He　was　still　too　weak　to　get　up　to　breakfast；　but；　when　he　
came　down　into　the　housekeeper’s　room　next　day；　his　first　act　was　
to　cast　an　eager　glance　at　the　wall；　in　the　hope　of　again　looking　on　
the　face　of　the　beautiful　lady。　His　expectations　were　disappointed；　
however；　for　the　picture　had　been　removed。　

“Ah！”　said　the　housekeeper；　watching　the　direction　of　Oliver’s　
eyes。　“It　is　gone；　you　see。”　

“I　see　it　is；　ma’am；”　replied　Oliver。　“Why　have　they　taken　it　
away？”　

“It　has　been　taken　down；　child；　because　Mr。　Brownlow　said；　
that　as　it　seemed　to　worry　you；　perhaps　it　might　prevent　your　
getting　well；　you　know；”　rejoined　the　old　lady。　

“Oh；　no；　indeed。　It　didn’t　worry　me；　ma’am；”　said　Oliver。　“I　
liked　to　see　it。　I　quite　loved　it。”　

“Well；　well！”　said　the　old　lady　good…humouredly；　“you　get　well　

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as　fast　as　ever　you　can；　dear；　and　it　shall　be　hung　up　again。　There！　
I　promise　you　that！　Now；　let　us　talk　about　something　else。”　

This　was　all　the　information　Oliver　would　obtain　about　the　
picture　at　that　time。　As　the　old　lady　had　been　so　kind　to　him　in　his　
illness；　he　endeavoured　to　think　no　more　of　the　subject　just　then；　
so　he　listened　attentively　to　a　great　many　stories　she　told　him；　
about　an　amiable　and　handsome　daughter　of　hers；　who　was　
married　to　an　amiable　and　handsome　man；　and　lived　in　the　
country；　and　about　a　son；　who　was　clerk　to　a　merchant　in　the　West　
Indies；　and　who　was；　also；　such　a　good　young　man；　and　wrote　such　
dutiful　letters　home　four　times　a　year；　that　it　brought　the　tears　into　
her　eyes　to　talk　about　them。　When　the　old　lady　had　expatiated；　a　
long　time；　on　the　excellences　of　her　children；　and　the　merits　of　her　
kind　good　husband　besides；　who　had　been　dead　and　gone；　poor　
dear　soul！　just　six…and…twenty　years；　it　was　time　to　have　tea。　After　
tea　she　began　to　teach　Oliver　cribbage；　which　he　learned　as　
quickly　as　she　could　teach；　and　at　which　game　they　played；　with　
great　interest　and　gravity；　until　it　was　time　for　the　invalid　to　have　
some　warm　wine…and…water；　with　a　slice　of　dry　toast；　and　then　to　
go　cosily　to　bed。　

These　were　happy　days；　those　of　Oliver’s　recovery。　Everything　
was　so　quiet；　and　neat；　and　orderly；　everybody　so　kind　and　gentle；　
that　after　the　noise　and　turbulence　in　the　midst　of　which　he　had　
always　lived；　it　seemed　like　heaven　itself。　He　was　no　sooner　strong　
enough　to　put　his　clothes　on；　properly；　than　Mr。　Brownlow　caused　
a　complete　new　suit；　and　a　new　cap；　and　a　new　pair　of　shoes；　to　be　
provided　for　him。　As　Oliver　was　told　that　he　might　do　what　he　
liked　with　the　old　clothes；　he　gave　them　to　a　servant　who　had　been　
very　kind　to　him　and　asked　her　to　sell　them　to　a　Jew；　and　keep　the　

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money　for　herself。　This　she　very　readily　did；　and；　as　Oliver　looked　
out　of　the　parlour　window；　and　saw　the　Jew　roll　them　up　in　his　bag　
and　walk　away　he　felt　quite　delighted　to　think　that　they　were　
safely　gone；　and　that　there　was　now　no　possible　danger　of　his　ever　
being　able　to　wear　them　again。　They　were　sad　rags；　to　tell　the　
truth；　and　Oliver　had　never　had　a　new　suit　before。　

One　evening；　about　a　week　after　the　affair　of　the　picture；　as　he　
was　sitting　talking　to　Mrs。　Bedwin；　there　came　a　message　down　
from　Mr。　Brownlow；　that　if　Oliver　Twist　felt　pretty　well；　he　should　
like　to　see　him　in　his　study；　and　talk　to　him　a　little　while。　

“Bless　us；　and　save　us！　Wash　your　hands；　and　let　me　part　your　
hair　nicely　for　you；　child；”　said　Mrs。　Bedwin。　“Dear　heart　alive！　If　
we　had　known　he　would　have　asked　for　you　we　would　have　put　
you　a　clean　collar　on；　and　made　you　as　smart　as　sixpence！”　

Oliver　did　as　the　old　lady　bade　him；　and；　although　she　lamented　
grievously；　meanwhile；　that　there　was　not　even　time　to　crimp　the　
little　frill；　that　bordered　his　shirt　collar；　he　looked　so　delicate　and　
handsome；　despite　that　important　personal　advantage；　that　she　
went　so　far　as　to　say；　looking　at　him　with　great　complacency；　from　
head　to　foot；　that　she　really　didn’t　think　it　would　have　been　
possible；　on　the　longest　notice；　to　have　made　much　difference　in　
him　for　the　better。　

Thus　encouraged；　Oliver　tapped　at　the　study　door。　On　Mr。　
Brownlow　calling　to　him　to　come　in；　he　found　himself　in　a　little；　
back　room；　quite　full　of　books；　with　a　window；　looking　into　some　
pleasant　little　gardens。　There　was　a　table　drawn　up　before　the　
window；　at　which　Mr。　Brownlow　was　seated　reading。　When　he　saw　
Oliver；　he　pushed　the　book　away　from　him；　and　told　him　to　come　
near　the　table；　and　sit　down。　Oliver　complied；　marvelling　where　

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the　people　could　be　found　to　read　such　a　great　number　of　books　as　
seemed　to　be　written　to　make　the　world　wiser。　Which　is　still　a　
marvel　to　more　experienced　people　than　Oliver　Twist；　every　day　of　
their　lives。　

“There　are　a　good　many　books；　are　there　not；　my　boy？”　said　
Mr。　Brownlow；　observing　the　curiosity　with　which　Oliver　surveyed　
the　shelves　that　reached　from　the　floor　to　the　ceiling。　

“A　great　number；　sir；”　replied　Oliver。　“I　never　saw　so　many。”　

“You　shall　read　them；　if　you　behave　well；”　said　the　old　
gentleman　kindly；　“and　you　will　like　that；　better　than　looking　at　
the　outsides—that　is；　in　some　cases；　because　there　are　books　of　
which　the　backs　and　covers　are　by　far　the　best　parts。”　

“I　suppose　they　are　those　heavy　ones；　sir；”　said　Oliver；　pointing　
to　some　large　quartos；　with　a　good　deal　of　gilding　about　the　
binding。　

“Not　always　those；”　said　the　old　gentleman；　patting　Oliver　on　
the　head；　and　smiling　as　he　did　so；　“there　are　other　equally　heavy　
ones；　though　of　a　much　smaller　size。　How　should　you　like　to　grow　
up　a　clever　man；　and　write　books；　eh？”　

“I　think　I　would　rather　read　them；　sir；”　replied　Oliver。　

“What！　wouldn’t　you　like　to　be　a　book…writer？　said　the　old　
gentleman。　

Oliver　considered　a　little　while；　and　at　last　said；　he　should　think　
it　would　be　a　much　better　thing　to　be　a　book…seller；　upon　which　
the　old　gentleman　laughed　heartily；　and　declared　he　had　said　a　
very　good　thing。　Which　Oliver　felt　glad　to　have　done；　though　he　by　
no　means　knew　what　it　was。　

“Well；　well；”　said　the　old　gentleman；　composing　his　features。　
“Don’t　be　afraid！　We　won’t　make　an　author　of　you；　while　there’s　an　

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honest　trade　to　be　learned；　or　brick…making　to　turn　to。”　

“Thank　you；　sir；”　said　Oliver。　At　the　earnest　manner　of　his　
reply；　the　old　gentleman　laughed　again；　and　said　something　about　
a　curious　instinct；　which　Oliver；　not　understanding；　paid　no　very　
great　attention　to。　

“Now；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　speaking　if　possible　in　a　kinder；　but　
at　the　same　time　in　a　much　more　serious　manner　than　Oliver　had　
ever　known　him　assume　yet；　“I　want　you　to　pay　great　attention；　
my　boy；　to　what　I　am　going　to　say。　I　shall　talk　to　you　without　any　
reserve　because　I　am　sure　you　are　as　well　able　to　understand　me；　
as　many　older　persons　would　be。”　

“Oh；　don’t　tell　me　you　are　going　to　send　me　away；　sir；　pray！”　
exclaimed　Oliver；　alarmed　at　the　serious　tone　of　the　old　
gentleman’s　commencement。　“Don’t　turn　me　out　of　doors　to　
wander　in　the　streets　again。　Let　me　stay　here；　and　be　a　servant。　
Don’t　send　me　back　to　the　wretched　place　I　came　from。　Have　
mercy　upon　a　poor　boy；　sir！”　

“My　dear　child；”　said　the　old　gentleman；　moved　by　the　warmth　
of　Oliver’s　sudden　appeal；　“you　need　not　be　afraid　of　my　deserting　
you；　unless　you　give　me　cause。”　

“I　never；　never　will；　sir；”　interposed　Oliver。　

“I　hope　not；”　rejoined　the　old　g