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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