oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第72章
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“Death！” muttered the man to himself； glaring at the boy with
his large dark eyes。 “Who would have thought it？ Grind him to
ashes！ He’d start up from a stone coffin； to come in my way！”
“I am sorry；” stammered Oliver； confused by the strange man’s
wild look。 “I hope I have not hurt you！”
“Rot you！” murmured the man； in a horrible passion； between
his clenched teeth； “if I had only the courage to say the word； I
might have been free of you in a night。 Curses on your head； and
black death on your heart； you imp！ What are you doing here？”
The man shook his fist； as he uttered these words incoherently。
He advanced towards Oliver； as if with the intention of aiming a
blow at him； but fell violently on the ground； writhing and foaming
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in a fit。
Oliver gazed； for a moment； at the struggle of the madman （for
such he supposed him to be）； and then darted into the house for
help。 Having seen him safely carried into the hotel； he turned his
face homewards； running as fast as he could； to make up for lost
time； and recalling with a great deal of astonishment and some
fear； the extraordinary behaviour of the person from whom he had
just parted。
The circumstance did not dwell in his recollection long；
however： for when he reached the cottage； there was enough to
occupy his mind； and to drive all considerations of self…
complacency from his memory。
Rose Maylie had rapidly grown worse； before midnight she was
delirious。 A medical practitioner； who resided on the spot； was in
constant attendance upon her； and after first seeing the patient； he
had taken Mrs。 Maylie aside； and pronounced her disorder to be
one of a most alarming nature。 “In fact；” he said； “it would be little
short of a miracle； if she recovered。”
How often did Oliver start from his bed that night； and stealing
out； with noiseless footsteps； to the staircase； listen for the
slightest sound from the sick chamber！ How often did a tremble
shake his frame； and cold drops of terror start upon his brow；
when a sudden tramping of feet caused him to fear that something
too dreadful to think of； had even then occurred！ And what had
been the fervency of all the prayers he had ever uttered； compared
with those he poured forth； now； in the agony and passion of his
supplication for the life and health of the gentle creature； who was
tottering on the deep grave’s verge！
Oh！ the suspense； the fearful； acute suspense； of standing idly
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by while the life of one we dearly love； is trembling in the balance！
Oh！ the racking thoughts that crowd upon the mind； and make the
heart beat violently and； the breath come thick； by the force of the
images they conjure up before it； the desperate anxiety to be doing
something to relieve the pain； or lessen the danger； which we have
no power to alleviate； the sinking of soul and spirit； which the sad
remembrance of our helplessness produces； what tortures can
equal these； what reflections or endeavours can； in the full tide
and fever of the time； allay them！
Morning came； and the little cottage was lonely and still。 People
spoke in whispers； anxious faces appeared at the gate； from time
to time； women and children went away in tears。 All the livelong
day； and for hours after it had grown dark； Oliver paced softly up
and down the garden； raising his eyes every instant to the sick
chamber； and shuddering to see the darkened window； looking as
if death lay stretched inside。 Late at night； Mr。 Losberne arrived。
“It is hard；” said the good doctor； turning away as he spoke； “so
young； so much beloved； but there is very little hope。”
Another morning。 The sun shone brightly—as brightly as if it
looked upon no misery or care； and； with every leaf and flower in
full bloom about her； with life； and—health； and sounds and sights
of joys surrounding her on every side； the fair young creature lay；
wasting fast。 Oliver crept away to the old churchyard； and sitting
down on one of the green mounds； wept and prayed for her； in
silence。
There was such peace and beauty in the scene； so much of
brightness and mirth in the sunny landscape； such blithsome
music in the songs of the summer birds； such freedom in the rapid
flight of the rook； careering overhead； so much of life and
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joyousness； in all； that； when the boy raised his aching eyes； and
looked about； the thought instinctively occurred to him； that this
was not a time for death； that Rose could surely never die when
humbler things were all so glad and gay； that graves were for cold
and cheerless winter； not for sunlight and fragrance。 He almost
thought that shrouds were for the old and shrunken； and that they
never wrapped the young and graceful form in their ghastly folds。
A knell from the church bell broke harshly on these youthful
thoughts。 Another！ Again！ It was tolling for the funeral service。 A
group of humble mourners entered the gate； wearing white
favours； for the corpse was young。 They stood uncovered by a
grave； and there was a mother—a mother once—among the
weeping train。 But the sun shone brightly； and the birds sang on。
Oliver turned homeward； thinking on the many kindnesses he
had received from the young lady； and wishing that the time could
come over again； that he might never cease showing her how
grateful and attached he was。 He had no cause for self…reproach on
the score of neglect； or want of thought； for he had been devoted to
her service； and yet a hundred little occasions rose up before him；
on which he fancied he might have been more zealous； and more
earnest； and wished he had been。 We need be careful how we deal
with those about us； when every death carries to some small circle
of survivors； thoughts of so much omitted； and so little done—of so
many things forgotten； and so many more which might have been
repaired！ There is no remorse so deep as that which is unavailing；
if we would be spared its tortures； let us remember this； in time。
When he reached home； Mrs。 Maylie was sitting in the little
parlour。 Oliver’s heart sank at sight of her； for she had never left
the bedside of her niece； and he trembled to think what change
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could have driven her away。 He learned that she had fallen into a
deep sleep； from which she would waken； either to recovery and
life； or to bid them farewell； and die。
They sat； listening； and afraid to speak； for hours。 The untasted
meal was removed； and with looks which showed that their
thoughts were elsewhere； they watched the sun as he sank lower
and lower； and； at length； cast over sky and earth those brilliant
hues which herald his departure。 Their quick ears caught the
sound of an approaching footstep。 They both involuntarily darted
to the door； as Mr。 Losberne entered。
“What of Rose？” cried the old lady。 “Tell me at once！ I can bear
it； anything but suspense！ Oh； tell me！ in the name of Heaven！”
“You must compose yourself；” said the doctor； supporting her。
“Be calm； my dear ma’am； pray。”
“Let me go； in God’s name！ My dear child！ She is dead！ She is
dying！”
“No！” cried the doctor passionately。 “As He is good and
merciful； she will live to bless us all； for years to come。”
The lady fell upon her knees； and tried to fold her hands
together； but the energy which had supported her so long； fled up
to Heaven with her first thanksgiving； and she sank into the
friendly arms which were extended to receive her。
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Chapter 34
Contains Some Introductory Particulars Relative To
A Young Gentleman Who Now Arrives Upon The
Scene； And A New Adventure Which Happened To
Oliver。
It was almost too much happiness to bear。 Oliver felt stunned
and stupefied by the unexpected intelligence； he could not
weep； or speak； or rest。 He had scarcely the power of
