oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第27部分

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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