oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第31部分

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“Silence！”　said　the　old　gentleman；　feigning　an　anger　he　was　far　
from　feeling。　“Never　let　me　hear　the　boy’s　name　again。　I　rang　to　
tell　you　that。　Never。　Never；　on　any　pretence；　mind！　You　may　leave　
the　room；　Mrs。　Bedwin。　Remember！　I　am　in　earnest。”　

There　were　sad　hearts　at　Mr。　Brownlow’s　that　night。　

Oliver’s　heart　sank　within　him；　when　he　thought　of　his　good　
kind　friends；　it　was　well　for　him　that　he　could　not　know　what　they　
had　heard；　or　it　might　have　broken　outright。　

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Chapter　18　

How　Oliver　Passed　His　Time　In　The　Improving
Society　Of　His　Reputable　Friends。


About　noon　next　day；　when　the　Dodger　and　Master　Bates　
had　gone　out　to　pursue　their　customary　avocations；　Mr。　
Fagin　took　the　opportunity　of　reading　Oliver　a　long　
lecture　on　the　crying　sin　of　ingratitude；　of　which　he　clearly　
demonstrated　he　had　been　guilty；　to　no　ordinary　extent；　in　wilfully　
absenting　himself　from　the　society　of　his　anxious　friends；　and；　still　
more；　in　endeavouring　to　escape　from　them　after　so　much　trouble　
and　expense　had　been　incurred　in　his　recovery。　Mr。　Fagin　laid　
great　stress　on　the　fact　of　his　having　taken　Oliver　in；　and　cherished　
him；　when；　without　his　timely　aid；　he　might　have　perished　with　
hunger；　and　he　related　the　dismal　and　affecting　history　of　a　young　
lad　whom；　in　his　philanthropy；　he　had　succoured　under　parallel　
circumstances；　but　who；　proving　unworthy　of　his　confidence　and　
evincing　a　desire　to　communicate　with　the　police；　had　
unfortunately　come　to　be　hanged　at　the　Old　Bailey　one　morning。　
Mr。　Fagin　did　not　seek　to　conceal　his　share　in　the　catastrophe；　but　
lamented；　with　tears　in　his　eyes；　that　the　wrong…headed　and　
treacherous　behaviour　of　the　young　person　in　question；　had　
rendered　it　necessary　that　he　should　become　the　victim　of　certain　
evidence　for　the　Crown；　which；　if　it　were　not　precisely　true；　was　
indispensably　necessary　for　the　safety　of　him　（Mr。　Fagin）　and　a　
few　select　friends。　Mr。　Fagin　concluded　by　drawing　a　rather　
disagreeable　picture　of　the　discomforts　of　hanging；　and；　with　great　

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friendliness　and　politeness　of　manner；　expressed　his　anxious　
hopes　that　he　might　never　be　obliged　to　submit　Oliver　Twist　to　
that　unpleasant　operation。　

Little　Oliver’s　blood　ran　cold；　as　he　listened　to　the　Jew’s　words；　
and　imperfectly　comprehended　the　dark　threats　conveyed　in　
them。　That　it　was　possible　even　for　justice　itself　to　confound　the　
innocent　with　the　guilty　when　they　were　in　accidental　
companionship；　he　knew　already；　and　that　deeply…laid　plans　for　
the　destruction　of　inconveniently　knowing　or　over…communicative　
persons；　had　been　really　devised　and　carried　out　by　the　old　Jew　on　
more　occasions　than　one；　he　thought　by　no　means　unlikely；　when　
he　recollected　the　general　nature　of　the　altercations　between　that　
gentleman　and　Mr。　Sikes：　which　seemed　to　bear　reference　to　some　
foregone　conspiracy　of　the　kind。　As　he　glanced　timidly　up；　and　met　
the　Jew’s　searching　look；　he　felt　that　his　pale　face　and　trembling　
limbs　were　neither　unnoticed　nor　unrelished　by　that　wary　old　
gentleman。　

The　Jew　smiled　hideously；　and　patting　Oliver　on　the　head；　said；　
that　if　he　kept　himself　quiet；　and　applied　himself　to　business；　he　
saw　they　would　be　very　good　friends　yet。　Then；　taking　his　hat；　and　
covering　himself　with　an　old　patched　greatcoat；　he　went　out；　and　
locked　the　room　door　behind　him。　

And　so　Oliver　remained　all　that　day；　and　for　the　greater　part　of　
many　subsequent　days；　seeing　nobody；　between　early　morning　
and　midnight；　and　left　during　the　long　hours　to　commune　with　his　
own　thoughts：　which；　never　failing　to　revert　to　his　kind　friends；　
and　the　opinion　they　must　long　ago　have　formed　of　him；　were　sad　
indeed。　

After　the　lapse　of　a　week　or　so；　the　Jew　left　the　room　door　

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unlocked；　and　he　was　at　liberty　to　wander　about　the　house。　

It　was　a　very　dirty　place。　The　rooms　upstairs　had　great　high　
wooden　chimney…pieces　and　large　doors；　with　panelled　walls；　and　
cornices　to　the　ceilings；　which；　although　they　were　black　with　
neglect　and　dust；　were　ornamented　in　various　ways；　from　all　of　
these　tokens　Oliver　concluded　that　a　long　time　ago；　before　the　old　
Jew　was　born；　it　had　belonged　to　better　people；　and　had　perhaps　
been　quite　gay　and　handsome；　dismal　and　dreary　as　it　looked　now。　

Spiders　had　built　their　webs　in　the　angles　of　the　walls　and　
ceilings；　and　sometimes；　when　Oliver　walked　softly　into　a　room；　
the　mice　would　scamper　across　the　floor；　and　run　back；　terrified；　
to　their　holes。　With　these　exceptions；　there　was　neither　sight　nor　
sound　of　any　living　thing；　and　often；　when　it　grew　dark；　and　he　
was　tired　of　wandering　from　room　to　room；　he　would　crouch　in　the　
corner　of　the　passage　by　the　street　door；　to　be　as　near　living　people　
as　he　could；　and　would　remain　there；　listening　and　counting　the　
hours；　until　the　Jew　or　the　boys　returned　In　all　the　rooms；　the　
mouldering　shutters　were　fast　closed；　the　bars　which　held　them　
were　screwed　tight　into　the　wood；　the　only　light　which　was　
admitted；　stealing　its　way　through　round　holes　at　the　top；　which　
made　the　rooms　more　gloomy；　and　filled　them　with　strange　
shadows。　There　was　a　back…garret　window　with　rusty　bars　outside　
which　had　no　shutter；　and　out　of　this；　Oliver　often　gazed　with　a　
melancholy　face　for　hours　together；　but　nothing　was　to　be　
described　from　it　but　a　confused　and　crowded　mass　of　house…tops；　
blackened　chimneys；　and　gable…ends。　Sometimes；　indeed；　a　grizzly　
head　might　be　seen；　peering　over　a　parapet…wall　of　a　distant　
house：　but　it　was　quickly　withdrawn　again；　and　as　the　window　of　
Oliver’s　observation　was　nailed　down；　and　dimmed　with　the　rain　

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and　smoke　of　years；　it　was　as　much　as　he　could　do　to　make　out　the　
forms　of　the　different　objects　beyond；　without　making　any　attempt　
to　be　seen　or　heard—which　he　had　as　much　chance　of　being；　as　if　
he　had　lived　inside　the　ball　of　St。　Paul’s　Cathedral。　

One　afternoon；　the　Dodger　and　Master　Bates　being　engaged　out　
that　evening；　the　first…named　young　gentleman　took　it　into　his　
head　to　evince　some　anxiety　regarding　the　decoration　of　his　
person　（which　to　do　him　justice；　was　by　no　means　an　habitual　
weakness　with　him）；　and；　with　this　end　and　aim；　he　
condescendingly　commanded　Oliver　to　assist　him　in　his　toilet；　
straightway。　

Oliver　was　but　too　glad　to　make　himself　useful；　too　happy　to　
have　some　faces；　however　bad；　to　look　upon；　and　too　desirous　to　
conciliate　those　about　him；　when　he　could　honestly　do　so；　to　throw　
any　objection　in　the　way　of　this　proposal。　So　he　at　once　expressed　
his　readiness；　and；　kneeling　on　the　floor；　while　the　Dodger　sat　
upon　the　table；　so　that　he　could　take　his　foot　in　his　lap；　he　applied　
himself　to　a　process　which　Mr。　Dawkins　designated　as　“japanning　
his　trotter…cases。”　Which　phrase；　rendered　into　plain　English；　
signifieth；　cleaning　his　boots。　

Whether　it　was　the　sense　of　freedom　and　independence　which　a　
rational　animal　may　be　supposed　to　feel　when　he　sits　on　a　table　in　
an　easy　attitude　smoking　a　pipe；　swinging　one　leg　carelessly　to　and　
fro；　and　having　his　boots　cleaned　all　the　time；　without　even　the　
past　trouble　of　having　taken　them　off；　or　the　prospective　misery　of　
putting　them　on；　to　disturb　his　reflections；　or　whether　it　was　the　
goodness　of　the　tobacco　that　soothed　the　feelings　of　the　Dodger；　or　
the　mildness　of　the　beer　that　mollified　his　thoughts；　he　was　
evidently　tinctured；　for　the　nonce；　with　a　spice　of　romance　and　

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enthusiasm；　foreign　to　his　general　nature。　He　looked　down　on　
Oliver；　with　a　thoughtful　countenance；　for　a　brief　space；　and　then；　
raising　his　head；　and　heaving　a　gentle　sigh；　said；　half　in　
abstractions；　and　half　to　Mr。　Bates：　

“What　a　pity　it　is　he　isn’t　a　prig！”　

“Ah！”　said　Master　Charles　Bates；　“he　don’t　know　what’s　good　
for　him。”　

The　Dodger　sighed　again；　and　resumed　his　pipe：　as　did　Charley　
Bates。　They　both　smoked；　for　some　seconds；　in　silence。　

“I　suppose　you　don’t　even　know　what　a　prig　is？”　said　the　
Dodger　mournfully。　

“I　think　I　know　that；”　replied　Oliver；　looking　up。　“It’s　a　th—　
You’re　one；　are　you　not？”　inquired　Oliver；　checking　himself。　

“I　am；”　replied　the　Dodger。　“I’d　scorn　to　be　anything　else。”　Mr。　
Dawkins　gave　his　hat　a　ferocious　cock；　after　delivering　this　
sentiment；　and　looked　at　Master　Bates；　as　if　to　denote　that　he　
would　feel　obliged　by　his　saying　anything　to　the　contrary。　

“I　am；”　repeated　the　Dodger。　“So’s　Charley。　So’s　Fagin。　So’s　
Sikes。　So’s　Nancy。　So’s　Bet。　So　we　all　are；　down　to　the　dog；　and　
he’s　the　downiest　one　of　the　lot！”　

“And　the　least　given　to　preaching；”　added　Charley　Bates。　

“He　wouldn’t　so　much　as　bark　in　a　witness…box；　for　fear　of　
committing　himself；　no；　nor　if　you　tied　him　up　in　one；　and　left　him　
there　without　wittles　for　a　fortnight；”　said　the　Dodger。　

“Not　a　bit　of　it；”　observed　Charley。　

“He’s　a　rum　dog。　Don’t　he　look　fierce　at　any　strange　cove　that　
laughs　or　sings　when　he’s　in　company！”　pursued　the　Dodger。　
“Won’t　he　growl　at　all；　when　he　hears　a　fiddle　playing！　And　don’t　
he　hate　other　dogs　as　ain’t　of　his　breed！　Oh；　no！”　

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“He’s　an　out…and…out　Christian；”　said　Charley。　

This　was　merely　intended　as　a　tribute　to　the　animal’s　abilities；　
but　it　was　an　appropriate　remark　in　another　sense；　if　Master　Bates　
had　only　known　it；　for　there　are　a　good　many　ladies　and　
gentlemen；　claiming　to　be　out…and…out　Christians；　between　whom；　
and　Mr。　Sikes’s　dog；　there　exist　strong　and　singular　points　of　
resemblance。　

“Well；　well；”　said　the　Dodger；　recurring　to　the　point　from　which　
they　had　strayed；　with　that　mindfulness　of　his　profession　which　
influenced　all　his　proceedings。　“This　hasn’t　got　anything　to　do　
with　young　Green　here。”　

“No　more　it　has；”　said　Charley。　“Why　don’t　you　put　yours