oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第60部分

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thoughtful　Harry　Maylie　might　have　been　at　first；　he　was　not　proof　
against　the　worthy　gentleman’s　good…humour；　which　displayed　
itself　in　a　great　variety　of　sallies　and　professional　recollections；　and　
an　abundance　of　small　jokes；　which　struck　Oliver　as　being　the　
drollest　things　he　had　ever　heard；　and　caused　him　to　laugh　
proportionately；　to　the　evident　satisfaction　of　the　doctor；　who　
laughed　immoderately　at　himself；　and　made　Harry　laugh　almost　as　
heartily；　by　the　very　force　of　sympathy。　So；　they　were　as　pleasant　a　
party　as；　under　the　circumstances；　they　could　well　have　been；　and　
it　was　late　before　they　retired；　with　light　and　thankful　hearts；　to　
take　that　rest　of　which；　after　the　doubt　and　suspense　they　had　
recently　undergone；　they　stood　much　in　need。　

Oliver　rose　next　morning；　in　better　heart；　and　went　about　his　
usual　early　occupations；　with　more　hope　and　pleasure　than　he　had　
known　for　many　days。　The　birds　were　once　more　hung　out；　to　sing；　
in　their　old　places；　and　the　sweetest　wild　flowers　that　could　be　
found；　were　once　more　gathered　to　gladden　Rose　with　their　
beauty。　The　melancholy　which　had　seemed　to　the　sad　eyes　of　the　
anxious　boy　to　hang；　for　days　past；　over　every　object；　beautiful　as　
all　were；　was　dispelled　by　magic。　The　dew　seemed　to　sparkle　more　
brightly　on　the　green　leaves；　the　air　to　rustle　among　them　with　a　

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sweeter　music；　and　the　sky　itself　to　look　more　blue　and　bright。　
Such　is　the　influence　which　the　condition　of　our　own　thoughts　
exercises；　even　over　the　appearance　of　external　objects。　Men　who　
look　on　nature；　and　their　fellow…men；　and　cry　that　all　is　dark　and　
gloomy；　are　in　the　right；　but　the　sombre　colours　are　reflections　
from　their　own　jaundiced　eyes　and　hearts。　The　real　hues　are　
delicate；　and　need　a　clearer　vision。　

It　is　worthy　of　remark；　and　Oliver　did　not　fail　to　note　it　at　the　
time；　that　his　morning　expeditions　were　no　longer　made　alone。　
Harry　Maylie；　after　the　very　first　morning　when　he　met　Oliver　
coming　laden　home；　was　seized　with　such　a　passion　for　flowers；　
and　displayed　such　a　taste　in　their　arrangement；　as　left　his　young　
companion　far　behind。　If　Oliver　were　behindhand　in　these　
respects；　however；　he　knew　where　the　best　were　to　be　found；　and　
morning　after　morning　they　scoured　the　country　together；　and　
brought　home　the　fairest　that　blossomed。　The　window　of　the　
young　lady’s　chamber　was　opened　now；　for　she　loved　to　feel　the　
rich　summer　air　stream　in；　and　revive　her　with　its　freshness；　but　
there　always　stood　in　water；　just　inside　the　lattice；　one　particular　
little　bunch；　which　was　made　up　with　great　care；　every　morning。　
Oliver　could　not　help　noticing　that　the　withered　flowers　were　
never　thrown　away；　although　the　little　vase　was　regularly　
replenished；　nor；　could　he　help　observing；　that　whenever　the　
doctor　came　into　the　garden；　he　invariably　cast　his　eyes　up　to　that　
particular　corner；　and　nodded　his　head　most　expressively；　as　he　
set　forth　on　his　morning’s　walk。　Pending　these　observations；　the　
days　were　flying　by；　and　Rose　was　rapidly　recovering。　

Nor　did　Oliver’s　time　hang　heavy　on　his　hands；　although　the　
young　lady　had　not　yet　left　her　chamber；　and　there　were　no　

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evening　walks；　save　now　and　then；　for　a　short　distance；　with　Mrs。　
Maylie。　He　applied　himself；　with　redoubled　assiduity；　to　the　
instructions　of　the　white…headed　old　gentleman；　and　laboured　so　
hard　that　his　quick　progress　surprised　even　himself。　It　was　while　
he　was　engaged　in　this　pursuit；　that　he　was　greatly　startled　and　
distressed　by　a　most　unexpected　occurrence。　

The　little　room　in　which　he　was　accustomed　to　sit；　when　busy　at　
his　books；　was　on　the　ground…floor；　at　the　back　of　the　house。　It　was　
quite　a　cottage…room；　with　a　lattice　window；　around　which　were　
clusters　of　jessamine　and　honeysuckle　that　crept　over　the　
casement；　and　filled　the　place　with　their　delicious　perfume。　It　
looked　into　a　garden；　whence　a　wicket　gate　opened　into　a　small　
paddock；　all　beyond；　was　fine　meadowland　and　wood。　There　was　
no　other　dwelling　near；　in　that　direction；　and　the　prospect　it　
commanded　was　very　extensive。　One　beautiful　evening；　when　the　
first　shades　of　twilight　were　beginning　to　settle　upon　the　earth；　
Oliver　sat　at　this　window；　intent　upon　his　books。　He　had　been　
poring　over　them　for　some　time；　and；　as　the　day　had　been　
uncommonly　sultry；　and　he　had　exerted　himself　a　great　deal；　it　is　
no　disparagement　to　the　authors；　whoever　they　may　have　been；　to　
say　that　gradually　and　by　slow　degrees；　he　fell　asleep。　

There　is　a　kind　of　sleep　that　steals　upon　us　sometimes；　which；　
while　it　holds　the　body　prisoner；　does　not　free　the　mind　from　a　
sense　of　things　about　it；　and　enable　it　to　ramble　at　its　pleasure。　So　
far　as　an　overpowering　heaviness；　a　prostration　of　strength；　and　an　
utter　inability　to　control　our　thoughts　of　power　of　motion；　can　be　
called　sleep；　this　is　it；　and　yet；　we　have　a　consciousness　of　all　that　
is　going　on　about　us；　and；　if　we　dream　at　such　a　time；　words　which　
are　really　spoken；　or　sounds　which　really　exist　at　the　moment；　

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accommodate　themselves　with　surprising　readiness　to　our　visions；　
until　reality　and　imagination　become　so　strangely　blended　that　it　
is　afterwards　almost　a　matter　of　impossibility　to　separate　the　two。　
Nor　is　this；　the　most　striking　phenomenon；　incidental　to　such　a　
state。　It　is　an　undoubted　fact；　that　although　our　senses　of　touch　
and　sight　be　for　the　time　dead；　yet　our　sleeping　thoughts；　and　the　
visionary　scenes　that　pass　before　us；　will　be　influenced　and　
materially　influenced；　by　the　mere　silent　presence　of　some　external　
object；　which　may　not　have　been　near　us　when　we　closed　our　eyes；　
and　of　whose　vicinity　we　have　had　no　waking　consciousness。　

Oliver　knew；　perfectly　well；　that　he　was　in　his　own　little　room；　
that　his　books　were　lying　on　the　table　before　him；　that　the　sweet　
air　was　stirring　among　the　creeping　plants　outside。　And　yet　he　was　
asleep。　Suddenly；　the　scene　changed；　the　air　became　close　and　
confined；　and　he　thought；　with　a　glow　of　terror；　that　he　was　in　the　
Jew’s　house　again。　There　sat　the　hideous　old　man；　in　his　
accustomed　corner；　pointing　at　him；　and　whispering　to　another　
man；　with　his　face　averted；　who　sat　beside　him。　

“Hush；　my　dear！”　he　thought　he　heard　the　Jew　say；　“it　is　he；　
sure　enough。　Come　away。”　

“He！”　the　other　man　seemed　to　answer；　“could　I　mistake　him；　
think　you？　If　a　crowd　of　ghosts　were　to　put　themselves　into　his　
exact　shape；　and　he　stood　amongst　them；　there　is　something　that　
would　tell　me　how　to　point　him　out。　If　you　buried　him　fifty　feet　
deep；　and　took　me　across　his　grave；　I　fancy　I　should　know；　if　there　
wasn’t　a　mark　above　it；　that　he　lay　buried　there！”　

The　man　seemed　to　say　this；　with　such　dreadful　hatred；　that　
Oliver　awoke　with　the　fear；　and　started　up。　

“Good　Heaven！　what　was　that；　which　sent　the　blood　tingling　to　

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his　heart；　and　deprived　him　of　his　choice；　and　of　power　to　move？　
There—there—at　the　window—close　before　him—so　close；　that　he　
could　have　almost　touched　him　before　he　started　back；　with　his　
eyes　peering　into　the　room；　and　meeting　his；　there　stood　the　Jew！　
And　beside　him；　white　with　rage　or　fear；　or　both；　were　the　
scowling　features　of　the　very　man　who　had　accosted　him　in　the　
inn…yard。　

It　was　but　an　instant；　a　glance；　a　flash；　before　his　eyes；　and　they　
were　gone。　But　they　had　recognised　him；　and　he　them；　and　their　
look　was　as　firmly　impressed　upon　his　memory；　as　if　it　had　been　
deeply　carved　in　stone；　and　set　before　him　from　his　birth。　He　stood　
transfixed　for　a　moment；　then；　leaping　from　the　window　into　the　
garden；　called　loudly　for　help。　

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Chapter　35　

Containing　The　Unsatisfactory　Result　Of　Oliver’s
Adventure；　And　A　Conversation　Of　Some
Importance　Between　Harry　Maylie　And　Rose。


When　the　inmates　of　the　house；　attracted　by　Oliver’s　
cries；　hurried　to　the　spot　from　which　they　proceeded；　
they　found　him；　pale　and　agitated；　pointing　in　the　
direction　of　the　meadows　behind　the　house；　and　scarcely　able　to　
articulate　the　words；　“The　Jew！　the　Jew！”　

Mr。　Giles　was　at　a　loss　to　comprehend　what　this　outcry　meant；　
but　Harry　Maylie；　whose　perceptions　were　something　quicker；　and　
who　had　heard　Oliver’s　history　from　his　mother；　understood　it　at　
once。　

“What　direction　did　he　take？”　he　asked；　catching　up　a　heavy　
stick　which　was　standing　in　a　corner。　

“That；”　replied　Oliver；　pointing　out　the　course　the　man　had　
taken；　“I　missed　them　in　an　instant。”　

“Then；　they　are　in　the　ditch！”　said　Harry。　“Follow！　And　keep　as　
near　me　as　you　can。”　So　saying；　he　sprang　over　the　hedge；　and　
darted　off　with　a　speed　which　rendered　it　matter　of　exceeding　
difficulty　for　the　others　to　keep　near　him。　

Giles　followed　as　well　as　he　could；　and　Oliver　followed　too；　and　
in　the　course　of　a　minute　or　two；　Mr。　Losberne；　who　had　been　out　
walking；　and　just　then　returned；　tumbled　over　the　hedge　after　
them；　and　picking　himself　up　with　more　agility　than　he　could　have　
been　supposed　to　possess；　struck　into　the　same　course　at　no　

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contemptible　speed；　shouting　all　the　while；　most　prodigiously；　to　
know　what　was　the　matter。　

On　they　all　went；　nor　stopped　they　once　to　breathe；　until　the　
leader；　striking　off　into　an　angle　of　the　field　indicated　by　Oliver；　
began　to　search；　narrowly；　the　ditch　and　hedge　adjoining；　which　
afforded　time　for　the　remainder　of　the　party　to　come　up；　and　for　
Oliver　to　communicate　to　Mr。　Losberne　the　circumstances　that　
had　led　to　so　vigorous　a　pursuit。　

The　search　was　all　in　vain。　There　were　not　even　the　traces　of　
recent　footsteps　to　be　seen。　They　stood　now　on　the　summit　of　a　
little　hill；　commanding　the　open　fields　in　every　direction　for　three　
or　four　miles。　There　was　the　village　in　the　hollow　on　the　left；　but；　
in　order　to　gain　that；　afte