oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第26章

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predicament；　I　should　at　once　find　it　in　the　fact　（also　recorded　in　a　
foregoing　part　of　this　narrative）；　of　their　quitting　the　pursuit；　when　
the　general　attention　was　fixed　upon　Oliver；　and　making　
immediately　for　their　home　by　the　shortest　possible　cut。　Although　
I　do　not　mean　to　assert　that　it　is　usually　the　practice　of　renowned　
and　learned　sages　to　shorten　the　road　to　any　great　conclusion　
（their　course　indeed　being　rather　to　lengthen　the　distance；　by　
various　circumlocutions　and　discursive　staggerings；　like　unto　
those　in　which　drunken　men　under　the　pressure　of　a　too　mighty　
flow　of　ideas　are　prone　to　indulge）；　still；　I　do　mean　to　say；　and　do　
say　distinctly；　that　it　is　the　invariable　practice　of　many　mighty　
philosophers；　in　carrying　out　their　theories；　to　evince　great　
wisdom　and　foresight　in　providing　against　every　possible　
contingency　which　can　be　supposed　at　all　likely　to　affect　
themselves。　Thus；　to　do　a　great　right；　you　may　do　a　little　wrong；　
and　you　may　take　any　means　which　the　end　to　be　attained；　will　
justify；　the　amount　of　the　right；　or　the　amount　of　the　wrong；　or　
indeed　the　distinction　between　the　two；　being　left　entirely　to　the　
philosopher　concerned；　to　be　settled　and　determined　by　his　clear；　
comprehensive；　and　impartial　view　of　his　own　particular　case。　

It　was　not　until　the　two　boys　had　scoured；　with　great　rapidity；　
through　a　most　intricate　maze　of　narrow　streets　and　courts；　that　
they　ventured　to　halt　beneath　a　low　and　dark　archway。　Having　
remained　silent　here；　just　long　enough　to　recover　breath　to　speak；　

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Master　Bates　uttered　an　exclamation　of　amusement　and　delight；　
and；　bursting　into　an　uncontrollable　fit　of　laughter；　flung　himself　
upon　a　door…step；　and　rolled　thereon　in　a　transport　of　mirth。　

“What’s　the　matter？”　inquired　the　Dodger。　

“Ha！　ha！　ha！”　roared　Charley　Bates。　

“Hold　your　noise；”　remonstrated　the　Dodger；　looking　cautiously　
round。　“Do　you　want　to　be　grabbed；　stupid？”　

“I　can’t　help　it；”　said　Charley。　“I　can’t　help　it！　To　see　him　
splitting　away　at　that　pace；　and　cutting　round　the　corners；　and　
knocking　up　again　the　posts；　and　starting　on　again　as　if　he　was　
made　of　iron　as　well　as　them；　and　me　with　the　wipe　in　my　pocket；　
singing　out　arter　him—oh；　my　eye！”　The　vivid　imagination　of　
Master　Bates　presented　the　scene　before　him　in　too　strong　
colours。　As　he　arrived　at　this　apostrophe；　he　again　rolled　upon　the　
door…step；　and　laughed　louder　than　before。　

“What’ll　Fagin　say？”　inquired　the　Dodger；　taking　advantage　of　
the　next　interval　of　breathlessness　on　the　part　of　his　friend　to　
propound　the　question。　

“What？”　repeated　Charley　Bates。　

“Ah；　what？”　said　the　Dodger。　“Why；　what　should　he　say？”　
inquired　Charley；　stopping　rather　suddenly　in　his　merriment；　for　
the　Dodger’s　manner　was　impressive。　“What　should　he　say？”　

Mr。　Dawkins　whistled　for　a　couple　of　minutes；　then；　taking　off　
his　hat；　scratched　his　head；　and　nodded　thrice。　

“What　do　you　mean？”　said　Charley。　

“Toor　rul　lol　loo；　gammon　and　spinnage；　the　frog　he　wouldn’t；　
and　high　cockolorum；”　said　the　Dodger；　with　a　slight　sneer　on　his　
intellectual　countenance。　

This　was　explanatory；　but　not　satisfactory。　Master　Bates　felt　it　

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so；　and　again　said；　“What　do　you　mean？”　

The　Dodger　made　no　reply；　but　putting　his　hat　on　again；　and　
gathering　the　skirts　of　his　long…tailed　coat　under　his　arm；　thrust　
his　tongue　into　his　cheek；　slapped　the　bridge　of　his　nose　some　half…
dozen　times　in　a　familiar　but　expressive　manner；　and　turning　on　
his　heel；　slunk　down　the　court。　Master　Bates　followed；　with　a　
thoughtful　countenance。　

The　noise　of　footsteps　on　the　creaking　stairs；　a　few　minutes　
after　the　occurrence　of　this　conversation；　roused　the　merry　old　
gentleman　as　he　sat　over　the　fire　with　a　saveloy　and　a　small　loaf　in　
his　left　hand；　a　pocket…knife　in　his　right；　and　a　pewter　pot　on　the　
trivet。　There　was　a　rascally　smile　on　his　white　face　as　he　turned　
round；　and；　looking　sharply　out　from　under　his　thick　red　
eyebrows；　bent　his　ear　towards　the　door　and　listened。　“Why；　how’s　
this；”　muttered　the　Jew；　changing　countenance；　“only　two　of　’em？　
Where’s　the　third？　They　can’t　have　got　into　trouble。　Hark！”　

The　footsteps　approached　nearer；　they　reached　the　landing。　
The　door　was　slowly　opened；　and　the　Dodger　and　Charley　Bates　
entered；　closing　it　behind　them。　

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Chapter　13　

Some　New　Acquaintances　Are　Introduced　To　The
Intelligent　Reader；　Connected　With　Whom；　Various
Pleasant　Matters　Are　Related；　Appertaining　To　This
History。


“W　here’s　Oliver？”　said　the　Jew；　rising　with　a　
menacing　look。　“Where’s　the　boy？”　
The　young　thieves　eyed　their　preceptor　as　if　
they　were　alarmed　at　his　violence；　and　looked　uneasily　at　each　
other：　But　they　made　no　reply。　

“What’s　become　of　the　boy？”　said　the　Jew；　seizing　the　Dodger　
tightly　by　the　collar；　and　threatening　him　with　horrid　
imprecations。　“Speak　out；　or　I’ll　throttle　you！”　

Mr。　Fagin　looked　so　very　much　in　earnest；　that　Charley　Bates；　
who　deemed　it　prudent　in　all　cases　to　be　on　the　safe　side；　and　who　
conceived　it　by　no　means　improbable　that　it　might　be　his　turn　to　
be　throttled　second；　dropped　upon　his　knees；　and　raised　a　loud；　
well…sustained；　and　continuous　roar—something　between　a　mad　
bull　and　a　speaking…trumpet。　

“Will　you　speak？”　thundered　the　Jew；　shaking　the　Dodger　so　
much　that　his　keeping　in　the　big　coat　at　all　seemed　perfectly　
miraculous。　

“Why；　the　traps　have　got　him；　and　that’s　all　about　it；”　said　the　
Dodger　sullenly。　“Come；　let　go　o’　me；　will　you！”　And　swinging　
himself；　at　one　jerk；　clean　out　of　the　big　coat；　which　he　left　in　the　
Jew’s　hands；　the　Dodger　snatched　up　the　toasting…fork；　and　made　

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a　pass　at　the　merry　old　gentleman’s　waistcoat；　which；　if　it　had　
taken　effect；　would　have　let　a　little　more　merriment　out；　than　
could　have　been　easily　replaced。　

The　Jew　stepped　back；　in　this　emergency；　with　more　agility　
than　could　have　been　anticipated　in　a　man　of　his　apparent　
decrepitude；　and；　seizing　up　the　pot；　prepared　to　hurl　it　at　his　
assailant’s　head。　But　Charley　Bates；　at　this　moment；　calling　his　
attention　by　a　perfectly　terrific　howl；　he　suddenly　altered　its　
destination；　and　flung　it　full　at　that　young　gentleman。　

“Why；　what　the　blazes　is　in　the　wind　now！”　growled　a　deep　
voice。　“Who　pitched　that　’ere　at　me？　It’s　well　it’s　the　beer；　and　not　
the　pot；　as　hit　me；　or　I’d　have　settled　somebody。　I　might　have　
know’d；　as　nobody　but　an　infernal　rich；　plundering；　thundering　
old　Jew　could　afford　to　throw　away　any　drink　but　water—and　not　
that；　unless　he　done　the　River　Company　every　quarter。　Wot’s　it　all　
about；　Fagin？　D—me；　if　my　neck…handkercher　ain’t　lined　with　
beer！　Come　in；　you　sneaking　warmint；　wot　are　you　stopping　
outside　for；　as　if　you　was　ashamed　of　your　master！　Come　in！”　

The　man　who　growled　out　these　words；　was　a　stoutly…built　
fellow　about　five…and…thirty；　in　a　black　velveteen　coat；　very　soiled　
drab　breeches；　lace…up　half…boots　and　grey　cotton　stockings；　which　
inclosed　a　bulky　pair　of　legs；　with　large；　swelling　calves—the　kind　
of　legs；　which；　in　such　costume；　always　look　in　an　unfinished　and　
incomplete　state　without　a　set　of　fetters　to　garnish　them。　He　had　a　
brown　hat　on　his　head；　and　a　dirty　belcher　handkerchief　round　his　
neck；　with　the　long；　frayed　ends　of　which　he　smeared　the　beer　
from　his　face　as　he　spoke。　He　disclosed；　when　he　had　done　so；　a　
broad；　heavy　countenance　with　a　beard　of　three　days’　growth；　and　
two　scowling　eyes；　one　of　which　displayed　various　parti…coloured　

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symptoms　of　having　been　recently　damaged　by　a　blow。　

“Come　in；　d’ye　hear？”　growled　this　engaging　ruffian。　

A　white；　shaggy　dog；　with　his　face　scratched　and　torn　in　twenty　
different　places；　skulked　into　the　room。　

“Why　didn’t　you　come　in　af