oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第32部分

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with　young　Green　here。”　

“No　more　it　has；”　said　Charley。　“Why　don’t　you　put　yourself　
under　Fagin；　Oliver—”　

“And　make　your　fortun’　out　of　hand？”　added　the　Dodger；　with　a　
grin。　

“And　so　be　able　to　retire　on　your　property；　and　do　the　genteel；　
as　I　mean　to；　in　the　very　next　leap…year　but　four　that　ever　comes；　
and　the　forty…second　Tuesday　in　Trinity…week；”　said　Charley　
Bates。　

“I　don’t　like　it；”　rejoined　Oliver　timidly；　“I　wish　they　would　let　
me　go。　I—I—would　rather　go。”　

“And　Fagin　would　rather　not！”　rejoined　Charley。　

Oliver　knew　this　too　well：　but　thinking　it　might　be　dangerous　to　
express　his　feelings　more　openly；　he　only　sighed；　and　went　on　with　
his　boot…cleaning。　

“Go！”　exclaimed　the　Dodger。　“Why；　where’s　your　spirit？　Don’t　
you　take　any　pride　out　of　yourself？　Would　you　go　and　be　
dependent　on　your　friends？”　

“Oh；　blow　that！”　said　Master　Bates；　drawing　two　or　three　silk　

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handkerchiefs　from　his　pocket；　and　tossing　them　into　a　cupboard；　
“that’s　too　mean；　that　is。”　

“I　couldn’t　do　it；”　said　the　Dodger；　with　an　air　of　haughty　
disgust。　

“You　can　leave　your　friends；　though；”　said　Oliver；　with　a　half…
smile；　“and　let　them　be　punished　for　what　you　did。”　

“That；”　rejoined　the　Dodger；　with　a　wave　of　his　pipe—“that　was　
all　out　of　consideration　for　Fagin；　’cause　the　traps　know　that　we　
work　together；　and　he　might　have　got　into　trouble　if　we　hadn’t　
made　our　lucky；　that　was　the　move；　wasn’t　it；　Charley？”　

Master　Bates　nodded　assent；　and　would　have　spoken；　but　the　
recollection　of　Oliver’s　flight　came　so　suddenly　upon　him；　that　the　
smoke　he　was　inhaling　got　entangled　with　a　laugh；　and　went　up　
into　his　head；　and　down　into　his　throat；　and　brought　on　a　fit　of　
coughing　and　stamping；　about　five　minutes　long。　

“Look　here！”　said　the　Dodger；　drawing　forth　a　handful　of　
shillings　and　halfpence；　“here’s　a　jolly　life！　What’s　the　odds　where　
it　comes　from？　Here；　catch　hold；　there’s　plenty　more　where　they　
were　took　from。　You　won’t；　won’t　you？　Oh；　you　precious　flat！”　

“It’s　naughty；　ain’t　it；　Oliver？”　inquired　Charley　Bates。　“He’ll　
come　to　be　scragged；　won’t　he？”　

“I　don’t　know　what　that　means；”　replied　Oliver。　

“Something　in　this　way；　old　feller；”　said　Charley。　As　he　said　it；　
Master　Bates　caught　up　an　end　of　his　neckerchief；　and；　holding　it　
erect　in　the　air；　dropped　his　head　on　his　shoulder；　and　jerked　a　
curious　sound　through　his　teeth；　thereby　indicating；　by　a　lively　
pantomimic　representation；　that　scragging　and　hanging　were　one　
and　the　same　thing。　

“That’s　what　it　means；”　said　Charley。　“Look　how　he　stares；　

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Jack！　I　never　did　see　such　prime　company　as　that　’ere　boy；　he’ll　be　
the　death　of　me；　I　know　he　will。”　Master　Charles　Bates；　having　
laughed　heartily　again；　resumed　his　pipe　with　tears　in　his　eves。　

“You’ve　been　brought　up　bad；”　said　the　Dodger；　surveying　his　
boots　with　much　satisfaction　when　Oliver　had　polished　them。　
“Fagin　will　make　something　of　you；　though；　or　you’ll　be　the　first　he　
ever　had　that　turned　out　unprofitable。　You’d　better　begin　at　once；　
for　you’ll　come　to　the　trade　long　before　you　think　of　it；　and　you’re　
only　losing　time；　Oliver。”　

Master　Bates　backed　this　advice　with　sundry　moral　
admonitions　of　his　own；　which；　being　exhausted；　he　and　his　friend　
Mr。　Dawkins　launched　into　a　glowing　description　of　the　numerous　
pleasures　incidental　to　the　life　they　led；　interspersed　with　a　variety　
of　hints　to　Oliver　that　the　best　thing　he　could　do；　would　be　to　
secure　Fagin’s　favour　without　more　delay；　by　the　means　which　
they　themselves　had　employed　to　gain　it。　

“And　always　put　this　in　your　pipe；　Nolly；”　said　the　Dodger；　as　
the　Jew　was　heard　unlocking　the　door　above；　“if　you　don’t　take　
fogles　and　tickers—”　

“What’s　the　good　of　talking　in　that　way？”　interposed　Master　
Bates；　“he　don’t　know　what　you　mean。”　

“If　you　don’t　take　pocket…handkerchiefs　and　watches；”　said　the　
Dodger；　reducing　his　conversation　to　the　level　of　Oliver’s　capacity；　
“some　other　cove　will；　so　that　the　coves　that　lose　’em　will　be　all　the　
worse；　and　you’ll　be　all　the　worse　too；　and　nobody　half　a　ha’p’orth　
the　better；　except　the　chaps　wot　gets　them—and　you’ve　just　as　
good　a　right　to　them　as　they　have。”　

“To　be　sure；　to　be　sure！”　said　the　Jew；　who　had　entered；　unseen　
by　Oliver。　“It　all　lies　in　a　nutshell；　my　dear；　in　a　nutshell；　take　the　

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Dodger’s　word　for　it。　Ha！　ha！　ha！　He　understands　the　catechism　of　
his　trade。”　

The　old　man　rubbed　his　hands　gleefully　together；　as　he　
corroborated　the　Dodger’s　reasoning　in　these　terms；　and　chuckled　
with　delight　at　his　pupil’s　proficiency。　

The　conversation　proceeded　no　further　at　this　time；　for　the　Jew　
had　returned　home　accompanied　by　Miss　Betsy；　and　a　gentleman　
whom　Oliver　had　never　seen　before；　but　who　was　accosted　by　the　
Dodger　as　Tom　Chitling；　and　who；　having　lingered　on　the　stairs　to　
exchange　a　few　gallantries　with　the　lady；　now　made　his　
appearance。　

Mr。　Chitling　was　older　in　years　than　the　Dodger；　having　
perhaps　numbered　eighteen　winters；　but　there　was　a　degree　of　
deference　in　his　deportment　towards　the　young　gentleman　which　
seemed　to　indicate　that　he　felt　himself　conscious　of　a　slight　
inferiority　in　point　of　genius　and　professional　acquirements。　He　
had　small；　twinkling　eyes；　and　a　pock…marked　face；　wore　a　fur　cap；　
a　dark　corduroy　jacket；　greasy　fustian　trousers；　and　an　apron。　His　
wardrobe　was；　in　truth；　rather　out　of　repair；　but　he　excused　
himself　to　the　company　by　stating　that　his　“time”　was　only　out　an　
hour　before；　and　that；　in　consequence　of　having　worn　the　
regimentals　for　six　weeks　past；　he　had　not　been　able　to　bestow　any　
attention　on　his　private　clothes。　Mr。　Chitling　added；　with　strong　
marks　of　irritation；　that　the　new　way　of　fumigating　clothes　up　
yonder　was　infernal　unconstitutional；　for　it　burned　holes　in　them；　
and　there　was　no　remedy　against　the　county。　The　same　remark　he　
considered　to　apply　to　the　regulation　mode　of　cutting　the　hair；　
which　he　held　to　be　decidedly　unlawful。　Mr。　Chitling　wound　up　his　
observations　by　stating　that　he　had　not　touched　a　drop　of　anything　

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for　forty…two　mortal　long　hard…working　days；　and　that　he　“Wished　
he　might　be　busted　if　he　warn’t　as　dry　as　a　lime…basket。”　

“Where　do　you　think　the　gentleman　has　come　from；　Oliver”？　
inquired　the　Jew；　with　a　grin；　as　the　other　boys　put　a　bottle　of　
spirits　on　the　table。　

“I—I—don’t　know；　sir；”　replied　Oliver。　

“Who’s　that？”　inquired　Tom　Chitling；　casting　a　contemptuous　
look　at　Oliver。　

“A　young　friend　of　mine；　my　dear；”　replied　the　Jew。　

“He’s　in　luck；　then；”　said　the　young　man；　with　a　meaning　look　
at　Fagin。　“Never　mind　where　I　come　from；　young　’un；　you’ll　find　
your　way　there；　soon　enough；　I’ll　bet　a　crown！”　

At　this　sally；　the　boys　laughed。　After　some　more　jokes　on　the　
same　subject；　they　exchanged　a　few　short　whispers　with　Fagin；　
and　withdrew。　

After　some　words　apart　between　the　last　comer　and　Fagin；　they　
drew　their　chairs　towards　the　fire：　and　the　Jew；　telling　Oliver　to　
come　and　sit　by　him；　led　the　conversation　to　the　topics　most　
calculated　to　interest　his　hearers。　These　were；　the　great　
advantages　of　the　trade；　the　proficiency　of　the　Dodger；　and　
amiability　of　Charles　Bates；　and　the　liberality　of　the　Jew　himself。　
At　length　these　subjects　displayed　signs　of　being　thoroughly　
exhausted；　and　Mr。　Chitling　did　the　same；　for　the　house　of　
correction　becomes　fatiguing　after　a　week　or　two。　Miss　Betsy　
accordingly　withdrew；　and　left　the　party　to　their　repose。　

From　this　day；　Oliver　was　seldom　left　alone；　but　was　placed　in　
almost　constant　communication　with　the　two　boys；　who　played　the　
old　game　with　the　Jew　every　day：　whether　for　their　own　
improvement　or　Oliver’s；　Mr。　Fagin　best　knew。　At　other　times　the　

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old　man　would　tell　them　stories　of　robberies　he　had　committed　in　
his　younger　days；　mixed　up　with　so　much　that　was　droll　and　
curious；　that　Oliver　could　not　help　laughing　heartily；　and　showing　
that　he　was　amused　in　spite　of　all　his　better　feelings。　

In　short；　the　wily　old　Jew　had　the　boy　in　his　toils；　and　having　
prepared　his　mind；　by　solitude　and　gloom；　to　prefer　any　society　to　
the　companionship　of　his　own　sad　thoughts　in　such　a　dreary　place；　
was　now　slowly　instilling　into　his　soul　the　poison　which　he　hoped　
would　blacken　it；　and　change　its　hue　for　ever。　

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Chapter　19　

In　Which　A　Notable　Plan　Is　Discussed　And
Determined　On。


It　was　a　chill；　damp；　windy　night；　when　the　Jew；　buttoning　his　
greatcoat　tight　round　his　shrivelled　body；　and　pulling　the　
collar　up　over　his　ears　so　as　completely　to　obscure　the　lower　
part　of　his　face；　emerged　from　his　den。　He　paused　on　the　step　as　
the　door　was　locked　and　chained　behind　him；　and　having　listened　
while　the　boys　made　all　secure；　and　until　their　retreating　footsteps　
were　no　longer　audible；　slunk　down　the　street　as　quickly　as　he　
could。　

The　house　to　which　Oliver　had　been　conveyed；　was　in　the　
neighbourhood　of　Whitechapel。　The　Jew　stopped　for　an　instant　at　
the　corner　of　the　street；　and；　glancing　suspiciously　round；　crossed　
the　road；　and　struck　off　in　the　direction　of　Spitalfields。　

The　mud　lay　thick　upon　the　stones；　and　a　black　mist　hung　over　
the　streets；　the　rain　fell　sluggishly　down；　and　everything　felt　cold　
and　clammy　to　the　touch。　It　seemed　just　the　night　when　it　befitted　
such　a　being　as　the　Jew　to　be　abroad。　As　he　glided　stealthily　along；　
creeping　beneath　the　shelter　of　the　walls　and　doorways；　the　
hideous　old　man　seemed　like　some　loathsome　reptile；　engendered　
in　the　slime　and　darkness　through　which　he　moved；　crawling　
forth；　by　night；　in　search　of　some　rich　offal　for　a　meal。　

He　kept　on　his　course；　through　man