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oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第91部分

小说: oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪)) 字数: 每页4000字

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At the very instant when he brought the loop over his head 
previous to slipping it beneath his arm…pits; and when the old 
gentleman before mentioned (who had clung so tight to the railing 
of the bridge as to resist the force of the crowd; and retain his 
position) earnestly warned those about him that the man was 
about to lower himself down—at that very instant the murderer; 
looking behind him on the roof; threw his arms above his head; 
and uttered a yell of terror。 

“The eyes again!” he cried; in an unearthly screech。 

Staggering as if struck by lightning; he lost his balance and 

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tumbled over the parapet。 The noose was on his neck。 It ran up 
with his weight; tight as a bowstring; and swift as the arrow it 
speeds。 He fell for five…and…thirty feet。 There was a sudden jerk; a 
terrific convulsion of the limbs; and there he hung; with the open 
knife clenched in his stiffening hand。 

The old chimney quivered with the shock; but stood it bravely。 
The murderer swung lifeless against the wall; and the boy; 
thrusting aside the dangling body which obscured his view; called 
to the people to come and take him out; for God’s sake。 

A dog; which had lain concealed till now; ran backwards and 
forwards on the parapet; with a dismal howl; and; collecting 
himself for a spring; jumped for the dead man’s shoulders。 Missing 
his aim; he fell into the ditch; turning completely over as he went; 
and striking his head against a stone; dashed out his brains。 

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Chapter 51 

Affording an explanation of more mysteries than 
one; and comprehending a proposal of marriage 
with no word of settlement or pin…money。 

The events narrated in the last chapter were yet but two 
days old; when Oliver found himself; at three o’clock in the 
afternoon; in a travelling carriage rolling fast towards his 
native town。 Mrs。 Maylie; and Rose; and Mrs。 Bedwin; and the 
good doctor; were with him; and Mr。 Brownlow followed in a post…
chaise; accompanied by one other person whose name had not 
been mentioned。 

They had not talked much upon the way; for Oliver was in a 
flutter of agitation and uncertainty which deprived him of the 
power of collecting his thoughts; and almost of speech; and 
appeared to have scarcely less effect on his companions; who 
shared it; in at least an equal degree。 He and the two ladies had 
been very carefully made acquainted by Mr。 Brownlow with the 
nature of the admissions which had been forced from Monks; and 
although they knew that the object of their present journey was to 
complete the work which had been so well begun; still the whole 
matter was enveloped in enough of doubt and mystery to leave 
them in endurance of the most intense suspense。 

The same kind friend had; with Mr。 Losberne’s assistance; 
cautiously stopped all channels of communication through which 
they could receive intelligence of the dreadful occurrences that 
had so recently taken place。 “It was quite true;” he said; “that they 

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must know them before long; but it might be at a better time than 
the present; and it could not be at a worse。” So they travelled on in 
silence; each busied with reflections on the object which had 
brought them together; and no one disposed to give utterance to 
the thoughts which crowded upon all。 

But if Oliver; under these influences; had remained silent while 
they journeyed towards his birth…place by a road he had never 
seen; how the whole current of his recollections ran back to old 
times; and what a crowd of emotions were awakened up in his 
breast; when they turned into that which he had traversed on foot; 
a poor; houseless; wandering boy; without a friend to help him; or 
a roof to shelter his head。 

“See there; there!” cried Oliver; eagerly clasping the hand of 
Rose; and pointing out of the carriage window; “that’s the stile I 
came over; there are the hedges I crept behind for fear any one 
should overtake me and force me back! Yonder is the path across 
the fields; leading to the old house where I was a little child! Oh; 
Dick; Dick; my dear old friend; if I could only see you now!” 

“You will see him soon;” replied Rose; gently taking his folded 
hands between her own。 “You shall tell him how happy you are; 
and how rich you have grown; and that in all your happiness you 
have none so great as the coming back to make him happy too。” 

“Yes; yes;” said Oliver; “and we’ll—we’ll take him away from 
here; and have him clothed and taught; and send him to some 
quiet country place where he may grow strong and well—shall 
we?” 

Rose nodded yes; for the boy was smiling through such happy 
tears that she could not speak。 

“You will be kind and good to him; for you are to every one;” 

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said Oliver。 “It will make you cry; I know; to hear what he can tell; 
but never mind; never mind; it will be all over; and you will smile 
again—I know that too—to think how changed he is; you did the 
same with me。 He said ‘God bless you’ to me when I ran away;” 
cried the boy; with a burst of affectionate emotion; “and I will say 
‘God bless you’ now; and show him how I love him for it!” 

As they approached the town; and at length drove through its 
narrow streets; it became matter of no small difficulty to restrain 
the boy within reasonable bounds。 There was Sowerberry’s the 
undertaker’s just as it used to be; only smaller and less imposing 
in appearance than he remembered it—there were all the well…
known shops and houses; with almost every one of which he had 
some slight incident connected—there was Gamfield’s cart; the 
very cart he used to have; standing at the old public…house door— 
there was the workhouse; the dreary prison of his youthful days; 
with its dismal windows frowning on the street—there was the 
same lean porter standing at the gate; at sight of whom Oliver 
involuntarily shrank back; and then laughed at himself for being 
so foolish; then cried; then laughed again—there were scores of 
faces at the doors and windows that he knew quite well—there 
was nearly everything as if he had left it but yesterday; and all his 
recent life had been a happy dream。 

But it was pure; earnest joyful reality。 They drove straight to 
the door of the chief hotel (which Oliver used to stare up at; with 
awe; and think a mighty palace; but which had somehow fallen off 
in grandeur and size); and here was Mr。 Grimwig all ready to 
receive them; kissing the young lady; and the old one too; when 
they got out of the coach; as if he were the grandfather of the 
whole party; all smiles and kindness; and not offering to eat his 

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head—no; not once; not even when he contradicted a very old 
postboy about the nearest road to London; and maintained he 
knew it best; though he had only come that way once; and that 
time fast asleep。 There was dinner prepared; and there were 
bedrooms ready; and everything was arranged as if by magic。 

Notwithstanding all this; when the hurry of the first half…hour 
was over; the same silence and constraint prevailed that had 
marred their journey down。 Mr。 Brownlow did not join them at 
dinner; but remained in a separate room。 The two other 
gentlemen hurried in and out with anxious faces; and; during the 
short intervals when they were present; conversed apart。 Once; 
Mrs。 Maylie was called away; and after being absent for nearly an 
hour; returned with eyes swollen with weeping。 All these things 
made Rose and Oliver; who were not in any new secrets; nervous 
and uncomfortable。 They sat wondering; in silence; or; if they 
exchanged a few words; spoke in whispers; as if they were afraid 
to hear the sound of their own voices。 

At length when nine o’clock had come; and they began to think 
they were to hear no more that night; Mr。 Losberne and Mr。 
Grimwig entered the room; followed by Mr。 Brownlow and a man 
whom Oliver almost shrieked with surprise to see; for they told 
him it was his brother; and it was the same man he had met at the 
market…town; and seen looking in with Fagin at the window of his 
little room。 Monks cast a look of hate; which; even then; he could 
not dissemble; at the astonished boy; and sat down near the door。 
Mr。 Brownlow; who had papers in his hand; walked to a table near 
which Rose and Oliver were seated。 

“This is a painful task;” said he; “but these declarations; which 
have been signed in London before many gentlemen; must be in 

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substance repeated here。 I would have spared you the 
degradation; but we must hear them from your own lips before we 
part; and you know why。” 

“Go on;” said the person addressed; turning away his face。 
“Quick。 I have almost done enough; I think。 Don’t keep me here。” 

“This child;” said Mr。 Brownlow; drawing Oliver to him; and 
laying his hand upon his head; “is your half…brother; the 
illegitimate son of your father; my dear friend Edwin Leeford; by 
poor young Agnes Fleming; who died in giving him birth。” 

“Yes;” said Monks; scowling at the trembling boy; the beating of 
whose heart he might have heard。 “That is their bastard child。” 

“The term you use;” said Mr。 Brownlow sternly; “is a reproach 
to those who have long since passed beyond the feeble censure of 
the world。 It reflects disgrace on no one living; except you who use 
it。 Let that pass。 He was born in this town。” 

“In the workhouse of this town;” was the sullen reply。 “You 
have the story there。” He pointed impatiently to the papers as he 
spoke。 

“I must have it here; too;” said Mr。 Brownlow; looking round 
upon the listeners。 

“Listen then! You!” returned Monks。 “His father being taken ill 
at Rome; was joined by his wife; my mother; from whom he had 
been long separated; who went from Paris; and took me with her— 
to look after his p

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