oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第24章

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Youthful　Friends。


The　coach　rattled　away；　down　Mount　Pleasant　and　up　
Exmouth　Street；　over　nearly　the　same　ground　as　that　
which　Oliver　had　traversed　when　he　first　entered　London　
in　company　with　the　Dodger；　and；　turning　a　different　way　when　it　
reached　the　Angel　at　Islington；　stopped　at　length　before　a　neat　
house；　in　a　quiet；　shady　street　near　Pentonville。　Here　a　bed　was　
prepared；　without　loss　of　time；　in　which　Mr。　Brownlow　saw　his　
young　charge　carefully　and　comfortably　deposited；　and　here　he　
was　tended　with　a　kindness　and　solicitude　that　knew　no　bounds。　

But；　for　many　days；　Oliver　remained　insensible　to　all　the　
goodness　of　his　new　friends。　The　sun　rose　and　sank；　and　rose　and　
sank　again；　and　many　times　after　that；　and　still　the　boy　lay　
stretched　on　his　uneasy　bed；　dwindling　away　beneath　the　dry　and　
wasting　heat　of　fever。　The　worm　does　not　his　work　more　surely　on　
the　dead　body；　than　does　this　slow…creeping　fire　upon　the　living　
frame。　

Weak；　and　thin；　and　pallid；　he　awoke　at　last　from　what　seemed　
to　have　been　a　long　and　troubled　dream。　Feebly　raising　himself　in　
the　bed；　with　his　head　resting　on　his　trembling　arm；　he　looked　
anxiously　around。　

“What　room　is　this？　Where　have　I　been　brought　to？”　said　

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Oliver。　“This　is　not　the　place　I　went　to　sleep　in。”　

He　uttered　these　words　in　a　feeble　voice；　being　very　faint　and　
weak；　but　they　were　overheard　at　once；　for　the　curtain　at　the　bed’s　
head　was　hastily　drawn　back；　and　a　motherly　old　lady；　very　neatly　
and　precisely　dressed；　rose　as　she　undrew　it；　from　an　arm…chair　
close　by；　in　which　she　had　been　sitting　at　needlework。　

“Hush；　my　dear；”　said　the　old　lady　softly。　“You　must　be　very　
quiet；　or　you　will　be　ill　again；　and　you　have　been　very　bad—as　bad　
as　bad　could　be；　pretty　nigh。　Lie　down　again；　there’s　a　dear！”　With　
those　words；　the　old　lady　very　gently　placed　Oliver’s　head　upon　
the　pillow；　and；　smoothing　back　his　hair　from　his　forehead；　looked　
so　kindly　and　loving　in　his　face；　that　he　could　not　help　placing　his　
little　withered　hand　in　hers；　and　drawing　it　round　his　neck。　

“Save　us！”　said　the　old　lady；　with　tears　in　her　eyes；　“what　a　
grateful　little　dear　it　is。　Pretty　creetur！　What　would　his　mother　feel　
if　she　had　sat　by　him　as　I　have；　and　could　see　him　now！”　

“Perhaps　she　does　see　me；”　whispered　Oliver；　folding　his　hands　
together；　“perhaps　she　has　sat　by　me。　I　almost　feel　as　if　she　had。”　

“That　was　the　fever；　my　dear；”　said　the　old　lady　mildly。　

“I　suppose　it　was；”　replied　Oliver；　“because　heaven　is　a　long　
way　off；　and　they　are　too　happy　there；　to　come　down　to　the　
bedside　of　a　poor　boy。　But　if　she　knew　I　was　ill；　she　must　have　
pitied　me；　even　there；　for　she　was　very　ill　herself　before　she　died。　
She　can’t　know　anything　about　me　though；”　added　Oliver；　after　a　
moment’s　silence。　“If　she　had　seen　me　hurt；　it　would　have　made　
her　sorrowful；　and　her　face　has　always　looked　sweet　and　happy；　
when　I　have　dreamed　of　her。”　

The　old　lady　made　no　reply　to　this；　but　wiping　her　eyes　first；　
and　her　spectacles；　which　lay　on　the　counterpane；　afterwards；　as　if　

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they　were　part　and　parcel　of　those　features；　brought　some　cool　
stuff　for　Oliver　to　drink；　and　then；　patting　him　on　the　cheek；　told　
him　he　must　lie　very　quiet；　or　he　would　be　ill　again。　So；　Oliver　kept　
very　still；　partly　because　he　was　anxious　to　obey　the　kind　old　lady　
in　all　things；　and　partly；　to　tell　the　truth；　because　he　was　
completely　exhausted　with　what　he　had　already　said。　He　soon　fell　
in　a　gentle　doze；　from　which　he　was　awakened　by　the　light　of　a　
candle；　which；　being　brought　near　the　bed；　showed　him　a　
gentleman　with　a　large　and　loud…ticking　gold　watch　in　his　hand；　
who　felt　his　pulse；　and　said　he　was　a　great　deal　better。　

“You　are　a　great　deal　better；　are　you　not；　my　dear？”　said　the　
gentleman。　

“Yes；　thank　you；　sir；”　replied　Oliver。　

“Yes；　I　know　you　are；”　said　the　gentleman。　“You’re　hungry　too；　
ain’t　you？”　

“No；　sir！”　answered　Oliver。　

“Hem！”　said　the　gentleman。　“No；　I　know　you’re　not。　He　is　not　
hungry；　Mrs。　Bedwin；”　said　the　gentleman；　looking　very　wise。　

The　old　lady　made　a　respectful　inclination　of　the　head；　which　
seemed　to　say　that　she　thought　the　doctor　was　a　very　clever　man。　
The　doctor　appeared　much　of　the　same　opinion　himself。　

“You　feel　sleepy；　don’t　you；　my　dear？”　said　the　doctor。　

“No；　sir；”　said　Oliver。　

“No；”　said　the　doctor；　with　a　very　shrewd　and　satisfied　look。　
“You’re　not　sleepy。　Nor　thirsty。　Are　you？”　

“Yes；　sir；　rather　thirsty；”　answered　Oliver。　

“Just　as　I　expected；　Mrs。　Bedwin；”　said　the　doctor。　“It’s　very　
natural　that　he　should　be　thirsty。　You　may　give　him　a　little　tea；　
ma’am；　and　some　dry　toast　without　any　butter。　Don’t　keep　him　too　

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warm；　ma’am；　but　be　careful　that　you　don’t　let　him　be　too　cold；　
will　you　have　the　goodness？”　

The　old　lady　dropped　a　curtsey。　The　doctor；　after　tasting　the　
cool　stuff；　and　expressing　a　qualified　approval　of　it；　hurried　away；　
his　boots　creaking　in　a　very　important　and　wealthy　manner　as　he　
went　downstairs。　

Oliver　dozed　off　again；　soon　after　this；　when　he　awoke；　it　was　
nearly　twelve　o’clock。　The　old　lady　tenderly　bade　him　good…night　
shortly　afterwards；　and　left　him　in　charge　of　a　fat　old　woman　who　
had　just　come；　bringing　with　her；　in　a　little　bundle；　a　small　Prayer…
book　and　a　large　night…cap。　Putting　the　latter　on　her　head　and　the　
former　on　the　table；　the　old　woman；　after　telling　Oliver　that　she　
had　come　to　sit　up　with　him；　drew　her　chair　close　to　the　fire；　and　
went　off　into　a　series　of　short　naps；　chequered　at　frequent　
intervals　with　sundry　tumblings　forward；　and　divers　moans　and　
chokings；　which；　however；　had　no　worse　effect　than　causing　her　to　
rub　her　nose　very　hard；　and　then　fall　asleep　again。　

And　thus　the　night　crept　slowly　on。　Oliver　lay　awake　for　some　
time；　counting　the　little　circles　of　light　which　the　reflection　of　the　
rushlight…shade　threw　upon　the　ceiling；　or　tracing　with　his　languid　
eyes　the　intricate　pattern　of　the　paper　on　the　wall。　The　darkness　
and　the　deep　stillness　of　the　room　were　very　solemn；　as　they　
brought　into　the　boy’s　mind　the　thought　that　death　had　been　
hovering　there；　for　many　days　and　nights；　and　might　yet　fill　it　with　
the　gloom　and　dread　of　his　awful　presence；　he　turned　his　face　
upon　the　pillow；　and　fervently　prayed　to　Heaven。　

Gradually；　he　fell　into　that　deep；　tranquil　sleep　which　ease　from　
recent　suffering　alone　imparts；　that　calm　and　peaceful　rest　which　
it　is　pain　to　wake　from。　Who；　if　this　were　death；　would　be　roused　

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again　to　all　the　struggles　and　turmoils　of　life；　to　all　its　cares　for　the　
present；　its　anxieties　for　the　future；　more　than　all；　its　weary　
recollection　of　the　past！　

It　had　been　bright　day；　for　hours；　when　Oliver　opened　his　eyes；　
and　when　he　did　so；　he　felt　cheerful　and　happy。　The　crisis　of　the　
disease　was　safely　past。　He　belonged　to　the　world　again。　

In　three　days’　time　he　was　able　to　sit　in　an　easy…chair；　well　
propped　up　with　pillows；　and；　as　he　was　still　too　weak　to　walk；　
Mrs。　Bedwin　had　him　carried　downstairs　into　the　little　
housekeeper’s　room；　which　belonged　to　her。　Having　him　set；　here；　
by　the　fireside；　the　good　old　lady　sat　herself　down　too；　and；　being　
in　a　state　of　considerable　delight　at　seeing　him　so　much　better；　
forthwith　began　to　cry　most　violently。　

“Never　mind　me；　my　dear；”　cried　the　old　lady。　“I’m　only　having　
a　regular　good　cry。　There；　it’s　all　over　now；　and　I’m　quite　
comfortable。”　

“You’re　very；　very　kind　to　me；　ma’am；”　said　Oliver。　

“Well；　never　you　mind　that；　my　dear；”　said　the　old　lady；　“that’s　
got　nothing　to　do　with　your　broth；　and　it’s　full　time　you　had　it；　for　
the　doctor　says　Mr。　Brownlow　may　come　in　to　see　you　this　
morning；　and　we　must　get　up　our　best　looks；　because　the　better　we　
look；　the　more　he’ll　be　pleased。”　And　wit