oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第42部分
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her?”
“Ay;” murmured the sick woman; relapsing into her former
drowsy state; “what about her?—what about—I know!” she cried;
jumping fiercely up; her face flushed; and her eyes starting from
her head—“I robbed her; so I did! She wasn’t cold—I tell you she
wasn’t cold; when I stole it!”
“Stole what; for God’s sake?” cried the matron; with a gesture
as if she would call for help。
“It!” replied the woman; laying her hand over the other’s
mouth。 “The only thing she had。 She wanted clothes to keep her
warm; and food to eat; but she had kept it safe; and had it in her
bosom。 It was gold; I tell you! Rich gold; that might have saved her
life!”
“Gold!” echoed the matron; bending eagerly over the woman as
she fell back。 “Go on; go on—yes—what of it? Who was the
mother? When was it?”
“She charged me to keep it safe;” replied the woman; with a
groan; “and trusted me as the only woman about her。 I stole it in
my heart when she first showed it me hanging round her neck;
and the child’s death; perhaps; is on me besides! They would have
treated him better; if they had known it all!”
“Known what?” asked the other。 “Speak!”
“The boy grew so like his mother;” said the woman; rambling
on; and not heeding the question; “that I could never forget it
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when I saw his face。 Poor girl! poor girl! She was so young; too!
Such a gentle lamb! Wait; there’s more to tell。 I have not told you
all; have I?”
“No; no;” replied the matron; inclining her head to catch the
words; as they came more faintly from the dying woman。 “Be
quick; or it may be too late!”
“The mother;” said the woman; making a more violent effort
than before—“the mother; when the pains of death first came
upon her; whispered in my ear that if her baby was born alive; and
thrived; the day might come when it would not feel so much
disgraced to hear its poor young mother named。 ‘And oh; kind
Heaven!’ she said; folding her thin hands together; ‘whether it be
boy or girl; raise up some friends for it in this troubled world; and
take pity upon a lonely; desolate child; abandoned to its mercy!’”
“The boy’s name?” demanded the matron。
“They called him Oliver;” replied the woman feebly。 “The gold I
stole was—”
“Yes; yes—what?” cried the other。
She was bending eagerly over the woman to hear her reply; but
drew back instinctively; as she once again rose; slowly and stiffly;
into a sitting posture; then; clutching the coverlid with both hands;
muttered some indistinct sounds in her throat and fell lifeless on
the bed。
*****
“Stone dead!” said one of the old women; hurrying in as soon as
the door was opened。
“And nothing to tell; after all;” rejoined the matron; walking
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carelessly away。
The two crones; to all appearances; too busily occupied in the
preparations for their dreadful duties to make any reply; were left
alone; hovering about the body。
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Chapter 25
Wherein This History Reverts To Mr。 Fagin And
Company。
While these things were passing in the country
workhouse; Mr。 Fagin sat in the old den—the same
from which Oliver had been removed by the girl—
brooding over a dull; smoky fire。 He held a pair of bellows upon
his knee; with which he had apparently been endeavouring to
rouse it into more cheerful action; but he had fallen into deep
thought; and with his arms folded on them; and his chin resting on
his thumbs; fixed his eyes; abstractedly; on the rusty bars。
At a table behind him sat the Artful Dodger; Master Charles
Bates; and Mr。 Chitling; all intent upon a game of whist; the Artful
taking dummy against Master Bates and Mr。 Chitling。 The
countenance of the first…named gentleman; peculiarly intelligent at
all times; acquired great additional interest from his close
observance of the game; and his attentive perusal of Mr。 Chitling’s
hand; upon which; from time to time; as occasion served; he
bestowed a variety of earnest glances; wisely regulating his own
play by the result of his observations upon his neighbour’s cards。
It being a cold night; the Dodger wore his hat; as; indeed; was
often his custom; within doors。 He also sustained a clay pipe
between his teeth; which he only removed for a brief space when
he deemed it necessary to apply for refreshment to a quart pot
upon the table; which stood ready filled with gin…and…water for the
accommodation of the company。
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Master Bates was also attentive to his play; but being of a more
excitable nature than his accomplished friend; it was observable
that he more frequently applied himself to the gin…and…water; and
moreover indulged in many jests and irrelevant remarks; all highly
unbecoming a scientific rubber。 Indeed; the Artful; presuming
upon their close attachment; more than once took occasion to
reason gravely with his companion upon these improprieties; all of
which remonstrances Master Bates received in extremely good
part; merely requesting his friend to be “blowed;” or to insert his
head in a sack; or replying with some other neatly…turned
witticism of a similar kind; the happy application of which; excited
considerable admiration in the mind of Mr。 Chitling。 It was
remarkable that the latter gentleman and his partner invariably
lost; and that the circumstance; so far from angering Master Bates;
appeared to afford him the highest amusement; inasmuch as he
laughed most uproariously at the end of every deal; and protested
that he had never seen such a jolly game in all his born days。
“That’s two doubles and the rub;” said Mr。 Chitling; with a very
long face; as he drew half a crown from his waistcoat pocket。 “I
never see such a feller as you; Jack; you win everything。 Even
when we’ve good cards; Charley and I can’t make nothing of ’em。”
Either the matter or the manner of this remark; which was
made very ruefully; delighted Charley Bates so much; that his
consequent shout of laughter roused the Jew from his reverie; and
induced him to inquire what was the matter。
“Matter; Fagin!” cried Charley。 “I wish you had watched the
play。 Tommy Chitling hasn’t won a point; and I went partners with
him against the Artful and him。”
“Ay; ay!” said the Jew; with a grin; which sufficiently
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demonstrated that he was at no loss to understand the reason。
“Try ’em again; Tom; try ’em again。”
“No more of it for me; thankee; Fagin;” replied Mr。 Chitling;
“I’ve had enough。 That ’ere Dodger has such a run of luck that
there’s no standing again’ him。”
“Ha! ha! my dear;” replied the Jew; “you must get up very early
in the morning; to win against the Dodger。”
“Morning!” said Charley Bates; “you must put your boots on
overnight; and have a telescope at each eye; and a opera…glass
between your shoulders; if you want to come over him。”
Mr。 Dawkins received these handsome compliments with much
philosophy; and offered to cut any gentleman in company; for the
first picture…card; at a shilling a time。 Nobody accepting the
challenge; and his pipe being by this time smoked out; he
proceeded to amuse himself by sketching a ground…plan of
Newgate on the table with a piece of chalk which had served him
in lieu of counters; whistling; meantime; with peculiar shrillness。
“How precious dull you are; Tommy!” said the Dodger;
stopping short when there had been a long silence; and addressing
Mr。 Chitling。 “What do you think he’s thinking of; Fagin?”
“How should I know; my dear?” replied the Jew; looking round
as he plied the bellows。 “About his losses; maybe; or the little
retirement in the country; that he’s just left; eh? Ha! ha! ha! Is that
it; my dear?”
“Not a bit of it;” replied the Dodger; stopping the subject of
discourse as Mr。 Chitling was about to reply。 “What do you say;
Charley?”
“I should say;” replied Master Bates; with a grin; “that he was
uncommon sweet upon Betsy。 See how he’s a…blushing! Oh; my
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eye! here’s a merry…go…rounder! Tommy Chitling’s in love! Oh;
Fagin; Fagin! what a spree!”
Thoroughly overpowered with the notion of Mr。 Chitling being
the victim of the tender passion; Master Bates threw himself back
in his chair with such violence; that he lost his balance; and
pitched over upon the floor; where (the accident abating nothing
of his merriment) he lay at full length until his laugh was over;
when he resumed his former position; and began another laugh。
“Never mind him; my dear;” said the Jew; winking at Mr。
Dawkins; and giving Master Bates a reproving tap with the nozzle
of the bellows。 “Betsy’s a fine girl。 Stick up to her; Tom。 Stick up
to her。”
“What I mean to say; Fagin;” replied Mr。 Chitling; very red in
the face; “is; that that isn’t anything to anybody here。”
“No more it is;” replied the Jew; “Charley will talk。 Don’t mind
him; my dear; don’t mind him。 Betsy’s a fine girl。 Do as she bids
you; Tom; and you will make your fortune。”
“So I do do as she bids me;” replied Mr。 Chitling; “I shouldn’t
have been milled; if it hadn’t been for her advice。 But it turned out
a good job for you; didn’t it; Fagin? And what’s six weeks of it? It
must come; some time or another; and why not in the winter time
when you don’t want to go out a…walking so much; eh; Fagin?”
“Ah; to be sure; my dear;” replied the Jew。
“You wouldn’t mind it again; Tom; would you;” asked the
Dodger; winking upon Charley and the Jew; “if Bet was all right?”
“I mean to say that I shouldn’t;” replied Tom angrily。 “There;
now。 Ah! Who’ll say as much as that; I should like to know; eh;
Fagin?”
“Nobody; my dear;” replied the Jew; “not a soul; Tom。 I don’t
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