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oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第27部分

小说: oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪)) 字数: 每页4000字

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had hitherto walked。 Turning to Oliver; he roughly commanded 
him to take hold of Nancy’s hand。 

“Do you hear?” growled Sikes; as Oliver hesitated; and looked 
round。 

They were in a dark corner; quite out of the track of passengers。 
Oliver saw; but too plainly; that resistance would be of no avail。 He 
held out his hand; which Nancy clasped tight in hers。 

“Give me the other;” said Sikes; seizing Oliver’s unoccupied 
hand。 “Here; Bull’s…Eye!” 

The dog looked up; and growled。 

“See here; boy!” said Sikes; putting his other hand to Oliver’s 
throat; “if he speaks ever so soft a word; hold him! D’ye mind!” 

The dog growled again; and licking his lips; eyed Oliver as if he 
were anxious to attach himself to his windpipe without delay。 

“He’s as willing as a Christian; strike me blind if he isn’t!” said 
Sikes; regarding the animal with a kind of grim and ferocious 
approval。 “Now; you know what you’ve got to expect; master; so 
call away as quick as you like; the dog will soon stop that game。 

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Get on; young ’un!” 

Bull’s…eye wagged his tail in acknowledgement of this unusually 
endearing form of speech; and; giving vent to another admonitory 
growl for the benefit of Oliver; led the way onward。 

It was Smithfield that they were crossing; although it might 
have been Grosvenor Square; for anything Oliver knew to the 
contrary。 The night was dark and foggy。 The lights in the shops 
could scarcely struggle through the heavy mist; which thickened 
every moment and shrouded the streets and houses in gloom; 
rendering the strange place still stranger in Oliver’s eyes; and 
making his uncertainty the more dismal and depressing。 

They had hurried on a few paces; when a deep church…bell 
struck the hour。 With its first stroke; his two conductors stopped; 
and turned their heads in the direction whence the sound 
proceeded。 

“Eight o’clock; Bill;” said Nancy; when the bell ceased。 

“What’s the good of telling me that; I can hear it; can’t I!” 
replied Sikes。 

“I wonder whether they can hear it;” said Nancy。 

“Of course they can;” replied Sikes。 “It was Bartlemy time 
when I was shopped; and there warn’t a penny trumpet in the fair; 
as I couldn’t hear the squeaking on。 Arter I was locked up for the 
night; the row and din outside made the thundering old jail so 
silent; that I could almost have beat my brains out against the iron 
plates of the door。” 

“Poor fellows!” said Nancy; who still had her face turned 
towards the quarter in which the bell had sounded。 “Oh; Bill; such 
fine young chaps as them!” 

“Yes; that’s all you women think of;” answered Sikes。 “Fine 

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young chaps! Well; they’re as good as dead; so it don’t matter 
much。” 

With this consolation; Mr。 Sikes appeared to repress a rising 
tendency to jealousy? and; clasping Oliver’s wrist more firmly; told 
him to step out again。 

“Wait a minute!” said the girl; “I wouldn’t hurry by; if it was 
you that was coming out to be hung; the next time eight o’clock 
struck; Bill。 I’d walk round and round the place till I dropped; if 
the snow was on the ground; and I haven’t a shawl to cover me。” 

“And what good would that do?” inquired the unsentimental 
Mr。 Sikes。 “Unless you could pitch over a file and twenty yards of 
good stout rope; you might as well be walking fifty mile off; or not 
walking at all; for all the good it would do me。 Come on; and don’t 
stand preaching there。” 

The girl burst into a laugh; drew her shawl more closely round 
her; and they walked away。 But Oliver felt her hand tremble; and; 
looking up in her face as they passed a gas lamp saw that it had 
turned a deadly white。 

They walked on; by little frequented and dirty ways; for a full 
half…hour; meeting very few people; and those appearing from 
their looks to hold much the same position in society as Mr。 Sikes 
himself。 At length they turned into a very filthy narrow street; 
nearly full of old…clothes shops: the dog running forward; as if 
conscious that there was no further occasion for his keeping on 
guard; stopped before the door of a shop that was closed and 
apparently untenanted。 The house was in a ruinous condition; and 
on the door was nailed a board; intimating that it was to let; which 
looked as if it had hung there for many years。 

“All right;” cried Sikes; glancing cautiously about。 

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Nancy stooped below the shutters; and Oliver heard the sound 
of a bell。 They crossed to the opposite side of the street and stood 
for a few moments under a lamp。 A noise; as if a sash…window 
were gently raised; was heard; and soon afterwards the door softly 
opened。 Mr。 Sikes then seized the terrified boy by the collar with 
very little ceremony; and all three were quickly inside the house。 

The passage was perfectly dark。 They waited; while the person 
who had let him in chained and barred the door。 

“Anybody here?” inquired Sikes。 

“No;” replied a voice; which Oliver thought he had heard 
before。 

“Is the old ’un here?” asked the robber。 

“Yes;” replied the voice; “and precious down in the mouth he 
has been。 Won’t he be glad to see you? Oh; no!” The style of this 
reply; as well as the voice which delivered it; seemed familiar to 
Oliver’s ears; but it was impossible to distinguish even the form of 
the speaker in the darkness。 

“Let’s have a glim;” said Sikes; “or we shall go breaking our 
necks; or treading on the dog。 Look after your legs if you do! 
That’s all。” 

“Stand still a moment; and I’ll get you one;” replied the voice 
The receding footsteps of the speaker were heard; and; in another 
minute; the form of Mr。 John Dawkins; otherwise the Artful 
Dodger; appeared。 He bore in his right hand a tallow candle stuck 
in the end of a cleft stick。 

The young gentleman did not stop to bestow any other mark of 
recognition upon Oliver than a humorous grin; but; turning away; 
beckoned the visitors to follow him down a flight of stairs。 They 
crossed an empty kitchen; and; opening the door of a low; earthy…

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smelling room; which seemed to have been built in a small backyard were received with a shout of laughter。 

“Oh; my wig; my wig!” cried Master Charles Bates from whose 
lungs the laughter had proceeded; “here he is! oh cry; here he is! 
Oh; Fagin; look at him! Fagin do look at him! I can’t bear it; it is 
such a jolly game; I can’t bear it。 Hold me; somebody; while I laugh 
it out。” 

With this irrepressible ebullition of mirth; Master Bates laid 
himself flat on the floor; and kicked convulsively for five minutes; 
in an ecstasy of facetious joy。 Then jumping to his feet; he 
snatched the cleft stick from the Dodger; and; advancing to Oliver; 
viewed him round and round; while the Jew; taking off his nightcap; made a great number of low bows to the bewildered boy。 The 
Artful; meantime; who was of a rather saturnine disposition; and 
seldom gave way to merriment when it interfered with business; 
rifled Oliver’s pockets with steady assiduity。 

“Look at his togs; Fagin!” said Charley; putting the light so 
close to his new jacket as nearly to set him on fire。 “Look at his 
togs! Superfine cloth; and the heavy swell cut! Oh; my eye; what a 
game! And his books; too! Nothing but a gentleman; Fagin!” 

“Delighted to see you looking so well; my dear;” said the Jew; 
bowing with mock humility。 “The Artful shall give you another 
suit; my dear; for fear you should spoil that Sunday one。 Why; 
didn’t you write; my dear; and say you were coming。 We’d have got 
something warm for supper。” 

At this; Master Bates roared again; so loud; that Fagin himself 
relaxed; and even the Dodger smiled; but as the Artful drew forth 
the five…pound note at that instant; it is doubtful whether the sally 
or the discovery awakened his merriment。 

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“Hallo! What’s this?” inquired Sikes; stepping forward as the 
Jew seized the note。 “That’s mine; Fagin。” 

“No; no; my dear;” said the Jew。 “Mine; Bill; mine。 You shall 
have the books。” 

“If that ain’t mine!” said Bill Sikes; putting on his hat with a 
determined air; “mine and Nancy’s; that is; I’ll take the boy back 
again。” 

The Jew started。 Oliver started too; though from a very 
different cause; for he hoped that the dispute might really end in 
his being taken back。 

“Come! Hand over; will you?” said Sikes。 

“This is hardly fair; Bill; hardly fair; is it; Nancy?” inquired the 
Jew。 

“Fair; or not fair;” retorted Sikes; “hand over; I tell you! Do you 
think Nancy and me has got nothing else to do with our precious 
time but to spend it in scouting arter; and kidnapping; every 
young boy as gets grabbed through you? Give it here; you 
avaricious old skeleton; give it here!” 

With this gentle remonstrance; Mr。 Sikes plucked the note from 
between the Jew’s finger and thumb; and looking the old man 
coolly in the face; folded it up small; and tied it in his neckerchief。 

“That’s for our share of the trouble;” said Sikes; “and not half 
enough; neither。 You may keep the books; if you’re fond of 
reading。 If you ain’t; sell ’em。” 

“They’re very pretty;” said Charley Bates; who; with sundry 
grimaces; had been affecting to read one of the volumes in 
question; “beautiful writing; isn’t it; Oliver?” At sight of the 
dismayed look with which Oliver regarded his tormentors; Master 
Bates; who was blessed with a lively sense of the ludicrous; fell 

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into another ecstasy; more boisterous than the first。 

“They belong to the old gentleman;” said Oliver; wringing his 
hands; “to the good; kind old gentleman who took me into his 
house; and had me nursed; when I was near dying of the fever。 Oh; 
pray send them back; send him back the books and 

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