oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第108章

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hurried　him　into　the　house。　This　man　was　Monks。　

They　walked　in　the　same　manner　up　the　stairs　without　
speaking；　and　Mr。　Brownlow；　preceding　them；　led　the　way　into　a　
back　room。　At　the　door　of　this　apartment；　Monks；　who　had　
ascended　with　evident　reluctance；　stopped。　The　two　men　looked　to　
the　old　gentleman　as　if　for　instructions。　

“He　knows　the　alternative；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow。　“If　he　hesitates　
or　moves　a　finger　but　as　you　bid　him；　drag　him　into　the　street；　call　
for　the　aid　of　the　police；　and　impeach　him　as　a　felon　in　my　name。”　

“How　dare　you　say　this　of　me？”　asked　Monks。　

“How　dare　you　urge　me　to　it；　young　man？”　replied　Mr。　
Brownlow；　confronting　him　with　a　steady　look。　“Are　you　mad　
enough　to　leave　this　house？　Unhand　him。　There；　sir。　You　are　free　
to　go；　and　we　to　follow。　But　I　warn　you；　by　all　I　hold　most　solemn　
and　most　sacred；　that　the　instant　you　set　foot　in　the　street；　that　

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instant　will　I　have　you　apprehended　on　a　charge　of　fraud　and　
robbery。　I　am　resolute　and　immovable。　If　you　are　determined　to　be　
the　same；　your　blood　be　upon　your　own　head！”　

“By　what　authority　am　I　kidnapped　in　the　street；　and　brought　
here　by　these　dogs？”　asked　Monks；　looking　from　one　to　the　other　
of　the　men　who　stood　beside　him。　

“By　mine；”　replied　Mr。　Brownlow。　“Those　persons　are　
indemnified　by　me。　If　you　complain　of　being　deprived　of　your　
liberty—you　had　power　and　opportunity　to　retrieve　t　as　you　came　
along；　but　you　deemed　it　advisable　to　remain　quiet—I　say　again；　
throw　yourself　for　protection　on　the　law。　I　will　appeal　to　the　law　
too；　but　when　you　have　gone　too　far　to　recede；　do　not　sue　to　me　for　
leniency；　when　the　power　will　have　passed　into　other　hands；　and　
do　not　say　I　plunged　you　down　the　gulf　into　which　you　rushed　
yourself。”　

Monks　was　plainly　disconcerted；　and　alarmed　besides。　He　
hesitated。　

“You　will　decide　quickly；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　with　perfect　
firmness　and　composure。　“If　you　wish　me　to　prefer　my　charges　
publicly；　and　consign　you　to　a　punishment　the　extent　of　which；　
although　I　can；　with　a　shudder；　foresee；　I　cannot　control；　once　
more；　I　say；　you　know　the　way。　If　not；　and　you　appeal　to　my　
forbearance；　and　the　mercy　of　those　you　have　deeply　injured；　seat　
yourself；　without　a　word；　in　that　chair。　It　has　waited　for　you　two　
whole　days。”　

Monks　muttered　some　unintelligible　words；　but　wavered　still。　

“You　will　be　prompt；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow。　“A　word　from　me；　
and　the　alternative　has　gone　for　ever。”　

Still　the　man　hesitated。　

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“I　have　not　the　inclination　to　parley；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　“and；　
as　I　advocate　the　dearest　interests　of　others；　I　have　not　the　right。”　

“Is　there；”　demanded　Monks；　with　a　faltering　tongue—“is　
there—no　middle　course？”　

“None。”　

Monks　looked　at　the　old　gentleman　with　an　anxious　eye；　but；　
reading　in　his　countenance　nothing　but　severity　and　
determination；　walked　into　the　room；　and；　shrugging　his　
shoulders；　sat　down。　

“Lock　the　door　on　the　outside；”　said　Mr　Brownlow　to　the　
attendants；　“and　come　when　I　ring。”　

The　men　obeyed；　and　the　two　were　left　alone　together。　

“This　is　pretty　treatment；　sir；”　said　Monks；　throwing　down　his　
hat　and　cloak；　“from　my　father’s　oldest　friend。”　

“It　is　because　I　was　your　father’s　oldest　friend；　young　man；”　
returned　Mr。　Brownlow；　“it　is　because　the　hopes　and　wishes　of　
young　and　happy　years　were　bound　up　with　him；　and　that　fair　
creature　of　his　blood　and　kindred　who　rejoined　her　God　in　youth；　
and　left　me　here　a　solitary；　lonely　man；　it　is　because　he　knelt　with　
me　beside　his　only　sister’s　deathbed　when　he　was　yet　a　boy；　on　the　
morning　that　would—but　Heaven　willed　otherwise—have　made　
her　my　young　wife；　it　is　because　my　seared　heart　clung　to　him；　
from　that　time　forth；　through　all　his　trials　and　errors；　till　he　died；　it　
is　because　old　recollections　and　associations　filled　my　heart；　and　
even　the　sight　of　you　brings　with　it　old　thoughts　of　him；　it　is　
because　of　all　these　things　that　I　am　moved　to　treat　you　gently　
now—yes；　Edward　Leeford；　even　now—and　blush　for　your　
unworthiness　who　bear　the　name。”　

“What　has　the　name　to　do　with　it？”　asked　the　other；　after　

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contemplating；　half　in　silence；　and　half　in　dogged　wonder；　the　
agitation　of　his　companion。　“What　is　the　name　to　me？”　

“Nothing；”　replied　Mr。　Brownlow—“nothing　to　you。　But　it　was　
hers；　and　even　at　this　distance　of　time　brings　back　to　me；　an　old　
man；　the　glow　and　thrill　which　I　once　felt；　only　to　hear　it　repeated　
by　a　stranger。　I　am　very　glad　you　have　changed　it—very—very。”　

“This　is　all　mighty　fine；”　said　Monks　（to　retain　his　assumed　
designation）　after　a　long　silence；　during　which　he　had　jerked　
himself　in　sullen　defiance　to　and　fro；　and　Mr。　Brownlow　had　sat；　
shading　his　face　with　his　hand。　“But　what　do　you　want　with　me？”　

“You　have　a　brother；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　rousing　himself；　“a　
brother；　the　whisper　of　whose　name　in　your　ear　when　I　came　
behind　you　in　the　street；　was；　in　itself；　almost　enough　to　make　you　
accompany　me　hither；　in　wonder　and　alarm。”　

“I　have　no　brother；”　replied　Monks。　“You　know　I　was　an　only　
child。　Why　do　you　talk　to　me　of　brothers？　You　know　that；　as　well　
as　I。”　

“Attend　to　what　I　do　know；　and　you　may　not；”　said　Mr。　
Brownlow。　“I　shall　interest　you　by　and　by。　I　know　that　of　the　
wretched　marriage；　into　which　family　pride；　and　the　most　sordid　
and　narrowest　of　all　ambition；　forced　your　unhappy　father　when　a　
mere　boy；　you　were　the　sole　and　most　unnatural　issue。”　

“I　don’t　care　for　hard　names；”　interrupted　Monks；　with　a　
jeering　laugh。　“You　know　the　fact；　and　that’s　enough　for　me。”　

“But　I　also　know；”　pursued　the　old　gentleman；　“the　misery；　the　
slow　torture；　the　protracted　anguish　of　that　ill…assorted　union。　I　
know　how　listlessly　and　wearily　each　of　that　wretched　pair　
dragged　on　their　heavy　chain　through　a　world　that　was　poisoned　
to　them　both。　I　know　how　cold　formalities　were　succeeded　by　open　

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taunts；　how　indifference　gave　place　to　dislike；　dislike　to　hate；　and　
hate　to　loathing；　until　at　last　they　wrenched　the　clanking　bond　
asunder；　and　retiring　a　wide　space　apart；　carried　each　a　galling　
fragment；　of　which　nothing　but　death　could　break　the　rivets；　to　
hide　it　in　new　society　beneath　the　gayest　looks　they　could　assume。　
Your　mother　succeeded；　she　forgot　it　soon。　But　it　rusted　and　
cankered　at　your　father’s　heart　for　years。”　

“Well；　they　were　separated；”　said　Monks；　“and　what　of　that？”　

“When　they　had　been　separated　for　some　time；”　returned　Mr。　
Brownlow；　“and　your　mother；　wholly　given　up　to　continental　
frivolities；　had　utterly　forgotten　the　young　husband　ten　good　years　
her　junior；　who；　with　prospects　blighted；　lingered　on　at　home；　he　
fell　among　new　friends。　This　circumstance；　at　least；　you　know　
already。”　

“Not　I；”　said　Monks；　turning　away　his　eyes　and　beating　his　foot　
upon　the　ground；　as　a　man　who　is　determined　to　deny　everything。　
“Not　I。”　

“Your　manner；　no　less　than　your　actions；　assures　me　that　you　
have　never　forgotten　it；　or　ceased　to　think　of　it　with　bitterness；”　
returned　Mr。　Brownlow。　“I　speak　of　fifteen　years　ago；　when　you　
were　not　more　than　eleven　years　old；　and　your　father　but　one…andthirty—for　he　was；　I　repeat；　a　boy；　when　his　father　ordered　him　to　
marry。　Must　I　go　back　to　events　which　cast　a　shade　upon　the　
memory　of　your　parent；　or　will　you　spare　it；　and　disclose　to　me　the　
truth？”　

“I　have　nothing　to　disclose；”　rejoined　Monks。　“You　must　talk　on　
if　you　will。”　

“These　new　friends；　then；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　“were　a　naval　
officer　retired　from　active　service；　whose　wife　had　died　some　half　a　

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year　before；　and　left　him　with　two　children—there　had　been　more；　
but；　of　all　their　family；　happily　but　two　survived。　They　were　both　
daughters；　one　a　beautiful