oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第84章

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both　children　were　equal；　would　he　recognise　your　prior　claim　
upon　his　purse；　who　had　none　upon　his　heart；　but　had　from　an　
infant；　repulsed　him　with　coldness　and　aversion。”　

“My　mother；”　said　Monks；　in　a　louder　tone；　“did　what　a　woman　
should　have　done。　She　burned　this　will。　The　letter　never　reached　
its　destination；　but　that；　and　other　proofs；　she　kept；　in　case　they　
ever　tried　to　lie　away　the　blot。　The　girl’s　father　had　the　truth　from　
her　with　every　aggravation　that　her　violent　hate—I　love　her　for　it　
now—could　add。　Goaded　by　shame　and　dishonour　he　fled　with　his　
children　into　a　remote　corner　of　Wales；　changing　his　very　name　
that　his　friends　might　never　know　of　his　retreat；　and　here；　no　great　
while　afterwards；　he　was　found　dead　in　his　bed。　The　girl　had　left　
her　home；　in　secret；　some　weeks　before；　he　had　searched　for　her；　
on　foot；　in　every　town　and　village　near；　it　was　on　the　night　when　
he　returned　home；　assured　that　she　had　destroyed　herself？　to　hide　
her　shame　and　his；　that　his　old　heart　broke。”　

There　was　a　short　silence　here；　until　Mr。　Brownlow　took　up　the　
thread　of　the　narrative。　

“Years　after　this；”　he　said；　“this　man’s—Edward　Leeford’s—　

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mother　came　to　me。　He　had　left　her；　when　only　eighteen；　robbed　
her　of　jewels　and　money；　gambled；　squandered；　forged；　and　fled　to　
London；　where　for　two　years　he　had　associated　with　the　lowest　
outcasts。　She　was　sinking　under　a　painful　and　incurable　disease；　
and　wished　to　recover　him　before　she　died。　Inquiries　were　set　on　
foot；　and　strict　searches　made。　They　were　unavailing　for　a　long　
time；　but　ultimately　successful；　and　he　went　back　with　her　to　
France。”　

“There　she　died；”　said　Monks；　“after　a　lingering　illness；　and；　on　
her　deathbed；　she　bequeathed　these　secrets　to　me；　together　with　
her　unquenchable　and　deadly　hatred　of　all　whom　they　involved—　
though　she　need　not　have　left　me　that；　for　I　had　inherited　it　long　
before。　She　would　not　believe　that　the　girl　had　destroyed　herself；　
and　the　child　too；　but　was　filled　with　the　impression　that　a　male　
child　had　been　born；　and　was　alive。　I　swore　to　her；　if　ever　it　
crossed　my　path；　to　hunt　it　down；　never　to　let　it　rest；　to　pursue　it　
with　the　bitterest　and　most　unrelenting　animosity；　to　vent　upon　it　
the　hatred　that　I　deeply　felt；　and　to　spit　upon　the　empty　vaunt　of　
that　insulting　will　by　dragging　it；　if　I　could；　to　the　very　gallows…
foot。　She　was　right。　He　came　in　my　way　at　last。　I　began　well；　and；　
but　for　babbling　drabs；　I　would　have　finished　as　I　began！”　

As　the　villain　folded　his　arms　tight　together；　and　muttered　
curses　on　himself　in　the　impotence　of　baffled　malice；　Mr。　
Brownlow　turned　to　the　terrified　group　beside　him；　and　explained　
that　the　Jew；　who　had　been　his　old　accomplice　and　confidant；　had　
a　large　reward　for　keeping　Oliver　ensnared；　of　which　some　part　
was　to　be　given　up；　in　the　event　of　his　being　rescued；　and　that　a　
dispute　on　this　head　had　led　to　their　visit　to　the　country　houses　for　
the　purpose　of　identifying　hum。　

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“The　locket　and　ring？”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　turning　to　Monks。　

“I　bought　them　from　the　man　and　woman　I　told　you　of；　who　
stole　them　from　the　nurse；　who　stole　them　from　the　corpse；”　
answered　Monks；　without　raising　his　eyes。　“You　know　what　
became　of　them。”　

Mr。　Brownlow　merely　nodded　to　Mr。　Grimwig；　who　
disappearing　with　great　alacrity；　shortly　returned；　pushing　in　Mrs。　
Bumble；　and　dragging　her　unwilling　consort　after　him。　

“Do　my　hi’s　deceive　me！”　cried　Mr。　Bumble；　with　ill…feigned　
enthusiasm；　“or　is　that　little　Oliver？　Oh；　O…li…ver；　if　you　know’d　
how　I’ve　been　a…grieving　for　you—”　

“Hold　your　tongue；　fool；”　murmured　Mrs。　Bumble。　

“Isn’t　natur’；　natur’；　Mrs。　Bumble？”　remonstrated　the　
workhouse　master。　“Can’t　I　be　supposed　to　feel—I　as　brought　him　
up　porochially—when　I　see　him　a…setting　here　among　ladies　and　
gentlemen　of　the　very　affablest　description！　I　always　loved　that　
boy　as　if　he’d　been　my—my—my　own　grandfather；”　said　Mr。　
Bumble；　halting　for　an　appropriate　comparison。　“Master　Oliver；　
my　dear；　you　remember　the　blessed　gentleman　in　the　white　
waistcoat？　Ah！　he　went　to　heaven　last　week；　in　a　oak　coffin　with　
plated　handles；　Oliver。”　

“Come；　sir；”　said　Mr。　Grimwig　tartly；　“suppress　your　feelings。　

“I　will　do　my　endeavours；　sir；”　replied　Mr。　Bumble。　“How　do　
you　do；　sir？　I　hope　you　are　very　well”　This　salutation　was　
addressed　to　Mr。　Brownlow；　who　had　stepped　up　to　within　a　short　
distance　of　the　respectable　couple。　He　inquired；　as　he　pointed　to　
Monks：　

“Do　you　know　that　person？”　

“No；”　replied　Mrs。　Bumble　flatly。　

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“Perhaps　you　don’t？”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　addressing　her　
spouse。　

“I　never　saw　him　in　all　my　life；”　said　Mr。　Bumble。　

“Nor　sold　him　anything；　perhaps？”　

“No；”　replied　Mr。　Bumble。　

“You　never　had；　perhaps；　a　certain　gold　locket　and　ring？”　said　
Mr。　Brownlow。　

“Certainly　not；”　replied　the　matron。　“Why　are　we　brought　here　
to　answer　to　such　nonsense　as　this？”　

Again　Mr。　Brownlow　nodded　to　Mr。　Grimwig；　and　again　that　
gentleman　limped　away　with　extraordinary　readiness。　But　not　
again　did　he　return　with　a　stout　man　and　wife；　for　this　time；　he　led　
in　two　palsied　women；　who　shook　and　tottered　as　they　walked。　

“You　shut　the　door　the　night　old　Sally　died；”　said　the　foremost　
one；　raising　her　shrivelled　hand；　“but　you　couldn’t　shut　out　the　
sound；　nor　stop　the　chinks。”　

“No；　no；”　said　the　other；　looking　round　her　and　wagging　her　
toothless　jaw。　“No；　no；　no。”　

“We　heard　her　try　to　tell　you　what　she’d　done；　and　saw　you　take　
a　paper　from　her　hand；　and　watched　you　too；　next　day；　to　the　
pawnbroker’s　shop；”　said　the　first。　

“Yes；”　added　the　second；　“and　it　was　a　‘locket　and　gold　ring。’　
We　found　out　that；　and　saw　it　given　you。　We　were　by。　Oh！　we　were　
by。”　

“And　we　knew　more　than　that；”　resumed　the　first；　“for　she　told　
us　often；　long　ago；　that　the　young　mother　had　told　her　that；　feeling　
she　should　never　get　over　it；　she　was　on　her　way；　at　the　time　that　
she　was　taken　ill；　to　die　near　the　grave　of　the　father　of　the　child。”　

“Would　you　like　to　see　the　pawnbroker　himself？”　asked　Mr。　

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Grimwig；　with　a　motion　towards　the　door。　

“No；”　replied　the　woman；　“if　he”—she　pointed　to　Monks—“has　
been　coward　enough　to　confess；　as　I　see　he　has；　and　you　have　
sounded　all　these　hags　till　you　have　found　the　right　ones；　I　have　
nothing　more　to　say。　I　did　sell　them；　and　they’re　where　you’ll　
never　get　them。　What　then？”　

“Nothing；”　replied　Mr。　Brownlow；　“except　that　it　remains　for　us　
to　take　care　that　neither　of　you　is　employed　in　a　situation　of　trust　
again。　You　may　leave　the　room。”　

“I　hope；”　said　Mr。　Bumble；　looking　about　him　with　great　
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