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oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第93部分

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

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ruefulness; as Mr。 Grimwig disappeared with the two old woman— 
”I hope that this unfortunate little circumstance will not deprive 
me of my porochial office?” 

“Indeed it will;” replied Mr。 Brownlow。 “You may make up your 
mind to that; and think yourself well off besides。” 

“It was all Mrs。 Bumble。—She would do it;” urged Mr。 Bumble; 
first looking round to ascertain that his partner had left the room。 

“That is no excuse;” replied Mr。 Brownlow。 “You were present 
on the occasion of the destruction of these trinkets; and indeed are 
the more guilty of the two; in the eye of the law; for the law 
supposes that your wife acts under your direction。” 

“If the law supposes that;” said Mr。 Bumble; squeezing his hat 
emphatically in both hands; “the law is a ass—a idiot。 If that’s the 
eye of the law; the law is a bachelor; and the worst I wish the law 
is; that his eye may be opened by experience—by experience。” 

Laying great stress on the repetition of these two words; Mr。 
Bumble fixed his hat on very tight; and putting his hands in his 
pockets; followed his helpmate downstairs。 

“Young lady;” said Mr。 Brownlow; turning to Rose; “give me 

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your hand。 Do not tremble。 You need not fear to hear the few 
remaining words I have to say。” 

“If they have—I do not know how they can; but if they have any 
reference to me;” said Rose; “pray let me hear them at some other 
time。 I have not strength or spirits now。” 

“Nay;” returned the old gentleman; drawing her arm through 
his; “you have more fortitude than this; I am sure。 Do you know 
this young lady; sir?” 

“Yes;” replied Monks。 

“I never saw you before;” said Rose faintly。 

“I have seen you often;” returned Monks。 

“The father of the unhappy Agnes had two daughters;” said Mr。 
Brownlow。 “What was the fate of the other—the child?” 

“The child;” replied Monks; “when her father died in a strange 
place; in a strange name; without a letter; book; or scrap of paper 
that yielded the faintest clue by which his friends or relatives 
could be traced—the child was taken by some wretched cottagers; 
who reared it as their own。” 

“Go on;” said Mr。 Brownlow; sighing to Mrs。 Maylie to 
approach。 “Go on!” 

“You couldn’t find the spot to which these people had 
repaired;” said Monks; “but where friendship fails; hatred will 
often force a way。 My mother found it; after a year of cunning 
search—ay; and found the child。” 

“She took it; did she?” 

“No。 The people were poor and began to sicken—at least the 
man did—of their fine humanity; so she left it with them; giving 
them a small present of money which would not last long; and 
promising more; which she never meant to send。 She didn’t quite 

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rely; however; on their discontent and poverty for the child’s 
unhappiness; but told the history of her sister’s shame; with such 
alterations as suited her; bade them take good heed of the child; 
for she came of bad blood; and told them she was illegitimate; and 
sure to go wrong at one time or other。 The circumstances 
countenanced all this; the people believed it; and there the child 
dragged on an existence; miserable enough even to satisfy us; until 
a widow lady; residing; then; at Chester; saw the girl by chance; 
pitied her; and took her home。 There was some cursed spell; I 
think; against us; for in spite of all our efforts she remained there 
and was happy。 I lost sight of her; two or three years ago; and saw 
her no more until a few months back。” 

“Do you see her now?” 

“Yes。 Leaning on your arm。” 

“But not the less my niece;” cried Mrs。 Maylie; folding the 
fainting girl in her arms; “not the less my dearest child。 I would 
not lose her now; for all the treasures of the world。 My sweet 
companion; my own dear girl!” 

“The only friend I ever had;” cried Rose; clinging to her。 “The 
kindest; best of friends。 My heart will burst; I cannot bear all this。” 

“You have borne more; and have been through all; the best and 
gentlest creature that ever shed happiness on every one she 
knew;” said Mrs。 Maylie; embracing her tenderly。 “Come; come; 
my love; remember who this is who waits to clasp you in his arms; 
poor child! See here—look; look; my dear!” 

“Not aunt;” cried Oliver; throwing his arms about her neck; “I’ll 
never call her aunt—sister; my own dear sister; that something 
taught my heart to love so dearly from the first! Rose; dear; darling 
Rose!” 

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Let the tears which fell; and the broken words which were 
exchanged in the long; close embrace between the orphans; be 
sacred。 A father; sister; and mother; were gained; and lost; in that 
one moment。 Joy and grief were mingled in the cup; but there 
were no bitter tears; for even grief itself arose so softened; and 
clothed in such sweet and tender recollections; that it became a 
solemn pleasure; and lost all character of pain。 

They were a long; long time alone。 A soft tap at the door; at 
length announced that some one was without。 Oliver opened it; 
glided away; and gave place to Harry Maylie。 

“I know it all;” he said; taking a seat beside the lovely girl。 
“Dear Rose; I know it all。” 

“I am not here by accident;” he added; after a lengthened 
silence; “nor have I heard all this tonight; but I knew it 
yesterday—only yesterday。 Do you guess that I have come to 
remind you of a promise?” 

“Stay;” said Rose。 “You do know all。” 

“All。 You gave me leave; at any time within a year; to renew the 
subject of our last discourse。” 

“I did。” 

“Not to press you to alter your determination;” pursued the 
young man; “but to hear you repeat it; if you would。 I was to lay 
whatever of station or fortune I might possess at your feet; and if 
you still adhered to your former determination; I pledged myself; 
by no word or act; to seek to change it。” 

“The same reasons which influenced me then; will influence me 
now;” said Rose firmly。 “If I ever owed a strict and rigid duty to 
her; whose goodness saved me from a life of indigence and 
suffering; when should I ever feel it; as I should tonight? It is a 

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struggle;” said Rose; “but one I am proud to make; it is a pang; but 

one my heart shall bear。” 

“The disclosure of tonight—” Harry began。 

“The disclosure of tonight;” replied Rose softly; “leaves me in 
the same position; with reference to you; as that in which I stood 
before。” 

“You harden your heart against me; Rose;” urged her lover。 

“Oh; Harry; Harry;” said the young lady; bursting into tears; “I 
wish I could; and spare myself this pain。” 

“Then why inflict it on yourself?” said Harry; taking her hand。 
“Think; dear Rose; think what you have heard tonight。” 

“And what have I heard? What have I heard?” cried Rose。 
“That a sense of his deep disgrace so worked upon my own father 
that he shunned all There; we have said enough; Harry; we have 
said enough。” 

“Not yet; not yet;” said the young man; detaining her as she 
rose。 “My hopes; my wishes; prospects; feeling—every thought in 
life except my love for you—have undergone a change。 I offer you; 
now; no distinction among a bustling crowd; no mingling with a 
world of malice and detraction where the blood is called into 
honest cheeks by aught but real disgrace and shame; but a home— 
a heart and home—yes; dearest Rose; and those; and those alone; 
are all I have to offer。” 

“What do you mean?” she faltered。 

“I mean but this—that when I left you last; I left you; with a 
firm determination to level all fancied barriers between yourself 
and me; resolved that if my world could not be yours; I would 
make yours mine; that no pride of birth should curl the lip at you; 
for I would turn from it。 This I have done。 Those who have shrunk 

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from me because of this; have shrunk from you; and proved you so 
far right。 Such power and patronage; such relatives of influence 
and rank; as smiled upon me then; look coldly now; but there are 
smiling fields and waving trees in England’s richest county; and by 
one village church—mine; Rose; my own!—there stands a rustic 
dwelling which you can make me prouder of; than all the hopes I 
have renounced; measured a thousandfold。 This is my rank and 
station now; and here I lay it down!” 

***** 

“It’s a trying time waiting supper for lovers;” said Mr。 Grimwig; 
waking up; and pulling his pocket…handkerchief from over his 
head。 

Truth to tell; the supper had been waiting a most unreasonable 
time。 Neither Mrs。 Maylie; nor Harry; nor Rose (who all came in 
together); could offer a word in extenuation。 

“I had serious thoughts of eating my head tonight;” said Mr。 
Grimwig; “for I began to think I should get nothing else。 I’ll take 
the liberty; if you’ll allow me; of saluting the bride that is to be。” 

Mr。 Grimwig lost no time in carrying this notice into effect upon 
the blushing girl; and the example; being contagious; was followed 
both by the doctor and Mr。 Brownlow。 Some people affirm that 
Harry Maylie had been observed to set it; originally; in a dark 
room adjoining; but the best authorities consider this downright 
scandal; he being young and a clergyman。 

“Oliver; my child;” said Mrs。 Maylie; “where have you been; and 
why do you look so sad? There are tears stealing down your face at 
this moment。 What is the matter?” 

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Oliver Twist 566 

It is a world of disappointment—often to the hopes we most 
cherish; and hopes that do our nature the greatest honour。 

Poor Dick was dead! 

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Chapter 52 

Fagin’s Last Night Alive 

The court was paved; from floor to roof; with human faces。 
Inquisitive and eager eyes peered from every inch of 
s

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