oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第103章

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before　this　river　wakes　to　the　first　glimpse　of　daylight；　you　shall　be　
placed　as　entirely　beyond　the　reach　of　your　former　associates；　and　
leave　as　utter　an　absence　of　all　trace　behind　you；　as　if　you　were　to　
disappear　from　the　earth　this　moment。　Come！　I　would　not　have　
you　go　back　to　exchange　one　word　with　any　old　companion　or　take　
one　look　at　any　old　haunt；　or　breathe　the　very　air　which　is　
pestilence　and　death　to　you。　Quit　them　all；　while　there　is　time　and　
opportunity！”　

“She　will　be　persuaded　now；”　cried　the　young　lady。　“She　

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hesitates；　I　am　sure。”　

“I　fear　not；　my　dear；”　said　the　gentleman。　

“No；　sir；　I　do　not；”　replied　the　girl；　after　a　short　struggle。　“I　am　
chained　to　my　old　life。　I　loathe　and　hate　it　now；　but　I　cannot　leave　
it。　I　must　have　gone　too　far　to　turn　back—and　yet　I　don’t　know；　for　
if　you　had　spoken　to　me　so；　some　time　ago；　I　should　have　laughed　
it　off。　But；”　she　said；　looking　hastily　round；　“this　fear　comes　over　
me　again。　I　must　go　home。”　

“Home！”　repeated　the　young　lady；　with　great　stress　upon　the　
word。　

“Home；　lady；”　rejoined　the　girl。　“To　such　a　home　as　I　have　
raised　for　myself　with　the　work　of　my　whole　life。　Let　us　part。　I　shall　
be　watched　or　seen。　Go！　Go！　If　I　have　done　you　any　service；　all　I　
ask　is；　that　you　leave　me；　and　let　me　go　my　way　alone。”　

“It　is　useless；”　said　the　gentleman；　with　a　sigh。　“We　
compromise　her　safety；　perhaps；　by　staying　here。　We　may　have　
detained　her　longer　than　she　expected　already。”　

“Yes；　yes；”　urged　the　girl。　“You　have。”　

“What；”　cried　the　young　lady；　“can　be　the　end　of　this　poor　
creature’s　life！”　

“What！”　repeated　the　girl。　“Look　before　you；　lady。　Look　at　that　
dark　water。　How　many　times　do　you　read　of　such　as　I　who　spring　
into　the　tide；　and　leave　no　living　thing；　to　care　for；　or　bewail　them。　
It　may　be　years　hence；　or　it　may　be　only　months；　but　I　shall　come　
to　that　at　last。”　

“Do　not　speak　thus；　pray；”　returned　the　young　lady；　sobbing。　

“It　will　never　reach　your　ears；　dear　lady；　and　God　forbid　such　
horrors　should！”　replied　the　girl。　“Good…night；　good…night！”　

The　gentleman　turned　away。　

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“This　purse；”　cried　the　young　lady。　“Take　it　for　my　sake；　that　
you　may　have　some　resource　in　an　hour　of　need　and　trouble。”　

“No！”　replied　the　girl。　“I　have　not　done　this　for　money。　Let　me　
have　that　to　think　of。　And　yet—give　me　something　that　you　have　
worn—I　should　like　to　have　something—no；　no；　not　a　ring—your　
gloves　or　handkerchief—anything　that　I　can　keep；　as　having　
belonged　to　you；　sweet　lady。　There。　Bless　you！　God　bless　you。　
Good…night；　good…night！”　

The　violent　agitation　of　the　girl；　and　the　apprehension　of　some　
discovery　which　would　subject　her　to　ill…usage　and　violence；　
seemed　to　determine　the　gentleman　to　leave　her；　as　she　requested。　
The　sound　of　retreating　footsteps　were　audible　and　the　voices　
ceased。　

The　two　figures　of　the　young　lady　and　her　companion　soon　
afterwards　appeared　upon　the　bridge。　They　stopped　at　the　summit　
of　the　stairs。　

“Hark！”　cried　the　young　lady；　listening。　“Did　she　call！　thought　I　
heard　her　voice。”　

“No；　my　love；”　replied　Mr。　Brownlow；　looking　sadly　back。　“She　
has　not　moved；　and　will　not　till　we　are　gone。”　

Rose　Maylie　lingered；　but　the　old　gentleman　drew　her　arm　
through　his；　and　led　her；　with　gentle　force；　away。　As　they　
disappeared；　the　girl　sank　down　nearly　at　her　full　length　upon　one　
of　the　stone　stairs；　and　vented　the　anguish　of　her　heart　in　bitter　
tears。　

After　a　time　she　arose；　and；　with　feeble　and　tottering　steps；　
ascended　to　the　street。　The　astonished　listener　remained　
motionless　on　his　post　for　some　minutes　afterwards；　and　having　
ascertained；　with　many　cautious　glances　round　him；　that　he　was　

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again　alone；　crept　slowly　from　his　hiding…place；　and　returned；　
stealthily　and　in　the　shade　of　the　wall；　in　the　same　manner　as　he　
had　descended。　

Peeping　out；　more　than　once；　when　he　reached　the　top；　to　make　
sure　that　he　was　unobserved；　Noah　Claypole　darted　away　at　his　
utmost　speed；　and　made　for　the　Jew’s　house　as　fast　as　his　legs　
would　carry　him。　

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　Chapter　47　

Fatal　Consequences。　

It　was　nearly　two　hours　before　daybreak；　that　time　which　in　
the　autumn　of　the　year　may　be　truly　called　the　dead　of　night；　
when　the　streets　are　silent　and　deserted；　when　even　sounds　
appear　to　slumber；　and　profligacy　and　riot　have　staggered　home　to　
dream；　it　was　at　this　still　and　silent　hour；　that　Fagin　sat　watching　
in　his　old　lair；　with　face　so　distorted　and　pale；　and　eyes　so　red　and　
bloodshot；　that　he　looked　less　like　a　man；　than　like　some　hideous　
phantom；　moist　from　the　grave；　and　worried　by　an　evil　spirit。　

He　sat　crouching　over　a　cold　hearth；　wrapped　in　an　old　torn　
coverlet；　with　his　face　turned　towards　a　wasting　candle　that　stood　
upon　a　table　by　his　side。　His　right　hand　was　raised　to　his　lips；　and　
as；　absorbed　in　thought；　he　bit　his　long　black　nails；　he　disclosed　
among　his　toothless　gums　a　few　such　fangs　as　should　have　been　a　
dog’s　or　rat’s。　

Stretched　upon　a　mattress　on　the　floor；　lay　Noah　Claypole；　fast　
asleep。　Towards　him　the　old　man　sometimes　directed　his　eyes　for　
an　instant；　and　then　brought　them　back　again　to　the　candle；　which　
was　a　long…burnt　wick　drooping　almost　double；　and　hot　grease　
falling　down　in　clots　upon　the　table；　plainly　showed　that　his　
thoughts　were　busy　elsewhere。　

Indeed　they　were。　Mortification　at　the　overthrow　of　his　notable　
scheme；　hatred　of　the　girl　who　had　dared　to　palter　with　strangers；　
an　utter　distrust　of　the　sincerity　of　her　refusal　to　yield　him　up；　
bitter　disappointment　at　the　loss　of　his　revenge　on　Sikes；　the　fear　

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of　detection；　and　ruin；　and　death；　and　a　fierce　and　deadly　rage　
kindled　by　all；　these　were　the　passionate　considerations　which；　
following　close　upon　each　other　with　rapid　and　ceaseless　whirl；　
shot　through　the　brain　of　Fagin；　as　every　evil　thought　and　blackest　
purpose　lay　working　at　his　heart。　

He　sat　without　changing　his　attitude　in　the　least；　or　appearing　
to　take　the　smallest　heed　of　time；　until　his　quick　ear　seemed　to　be　
attracted　by　a　footstep　in　the　street。　

“At　last；”　he　muttered；　wiping　his　dry　and　fevered　mouth。　“At　
last！”　

The　bell　rang　gently　as　he　spoke。　He　crept　upstairs　to　the　door；　
and　presently　returned　accompanied　by　a　man　muffled　to　the　
chin；　who　carried　a　bundle　under　one　arm。　Sitting　down　and　
throwing　back　his　outer　coat；　the　man　displayed　the　burly　frame　of　
Sikes。　

“There！”　he　said；　laying　the　bundle　on　the　table。　“Take　care　of　
that；　and　do　the　most　you　can　with　it。　It’s　been　trouble　enough　to　
get：　I　thought　I　should　have　been　here　three　hours　ago。”　

Fagin　laid　his　hand　upon　the　bundle；　and　locking　it　in　the　
cupboard；　sat　down　again　without　speaking。　But　he　did　not　take　
his　eyes　off　the　robber；　for　an　instant；　during　this　action；　and　now　
that　they　sat　over　against　each　other；　face　to　face；　he　looked　fixedly　
at　him；　with　his　lips　quivering　so　violently；　and　his　face　so　altered　
by　the　emotions　which　had　mastered　him；　that　the　housebreaker　
involuntarily　drew　back　his　chair；　and　surveyed　him　with　a　look　of　
real　affright。　

“Wot　now？”　cried　Sikes。　“Wot　do　you　look　at　a　man　so　for？”　

Fagin　raised　his　right　hand；　and　shook　his　trembling　forefinger　
in　the　air；　but　his　passion　was　so　great；　that　the　power　of　speech　

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was　for　the　moment　gone。　

“Damme！”　said　Sikes；　feeling　in　his　breast　with　a　look　of　alarm。　
“He’s　gone　mad。　I　must　look　to　myself　here。”　

“No；　no；”　rejoined　Fagin；　finding　his　voice。　“It’s　not—You’re　not　
the　person；　Bill。　I’ve　no—no　fault　to　find　with　you。”　

“Oh；　you　haven’t；　haven’t　you？”　said　Sikes；　looking　sternly　at　
him；　and　ostentatiously　passing　a　pistol　into　a　more