oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第75章
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Harry Maylie； after the very first morning when he met Oliver
coming laden home； was seized with such a passion for flowers；
and displayed such a taste in their arrangement； as left his young
companion far behind。 If Oliver were behindhand in these
respects； however； he knew where the best were to be found； and
morning after morning they scoured the country together； and
brought home the fairest that blossomed。 The window of the
young lady’s chamber was opened now； for she loved to feel the
rich summer air stream in； and revive her with its freshness； but
there always stood in water； just inside the lattice； one particular
little bunch； which was made up with great care； every morning。
Oliver could not help noticing that the withered flowers were
never thrown away； although the little vase was regularly
replenished； nor； could he help observing； that whenever the
doctor came into the garden； he invariably cast his eyes up to that
particular corner； and nodded his head most expressively； as he
set forth on his morning’s walk。 Pending these observations； the
days were flying by； and Rose was rapidly recovering。
Nor did Oliver’s time hang heavy on his hands； although the
young lady had not yet left her chamber； and there were no
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evening walks； save now and then； for a short distance； with Mrs。
Maylie。 He applied himself； with redoubled assiduity； to the
instructions of the white…headed old gentleman； and laboured so
hard that his quick progress surprised even himself。 It was while
he was engaged in this pursuit； that he was greatly startled and
distressed by a most unexpected occurrence。
The little room in which he was accustomed to sit； when busy at
his books； was on the ground…floor； at the back of the house。 It was
quite a cottage…room； with a lattice window； around which were
clusters of jessamine and honeysuckle that crept over the
casement； and filled the place with their delicious perfume。 It
looked into a garden； whence a wicket gate opened into a small
paddock； all beyond； was fine meadowland and wood。 There was
no other dwelling near； in that direction； and the prospect it
commanded was very extensive。 One beautiful evening； when the
first shades of twilight were beginning to settle upon the earth；
Oliver sat at this window； intent upon his books。 He had been
poring over them for some time； and； as the day had been
uncommonly sultry； and he had exerted himself a great deal； it is
no disparagement to the authors； whoever they may have been； to
say that gradually and by slow degrees； he fell asleep。
There is a kind of sleep that steals upon us sometimes； which；
while it holds the body prisoner； does not free the mind from a
sense of things about it； and enable it to ramble at its pleasure。 So
far as an overpowering heaviness； a prostration of strength； and an
utter inability to control our thoughts of power of motion； can be
called sleep； this is it； and yet； we have a consciousness of all that
is going on about us； and； if we dream at such a time； words which
are really spoken； or sounds which really exist at the moment；
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accommodate themselves with surprising readiness to our visions；
until reality and imagination become so strangely blended that it
is afterwards almost a matter of impossibility to separate the two。
Nor is this； the most striking phenomenon； incidental to such a
state。 It is an undoubted fact； that although our senses of touch
and sight be for the time dead； yet our sleeping thoughts； and the
visionary scenes that pass before us； will be influenced and
materially influenced； by the mere silent presence of some external
object； which may not have been near us when we closed our eyes；
and of whose vicinity we have had no waking consciousness。
Oliver knew； perfectly well； that he was in his own little room；
that his books were lying on the table before him； that the sweet
air was stirring among the creeping plants outside。 And yet he was
asleep。 Suddenly； the scene changed； the air became close and
confined； and he thought； with a glow of terror； that he was in the
Jew’s house again。 There sat the hideous old man； in his
accustomed corner； pointing at him； and whispering to another
man； with his face averted； who sat beside him。
“Hush； my dear！” he thought he heard the Jew say； “it is he；
sure enough。 Come away。”
“He！” the other man seemed to answer； “could I mistake him；
think you？ If a crowd of ghosts were to put themselves into his
exact shape； and he stood amongst them； there is something that
would tell me how to point him out。 If you buried him fifty feet
deep； and took me across his grave； I fancy I should know； if there
wasn’t a mark above it； that he lay buried there！”
The man seemed to say this； with such dreadful hatred； that
Oliver awoke with the fear； and started up。
“Good Heaven！ what was that； which sent the blood tingling to
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his heart； and deprived him of his choice； and of power to move？
There—there—at the window—close before him—so close； that he
could have almost touched him before he started back； with his
eyes peering into the room； and meeting his； there stood the Jew！
And beside him； white with rage or fear； or both； were the
scowling features of the very man who had accosted him in the
inn…yard。
It was but an instant； a glance； a flash； before his eyes； and they
were gone。 But they had recognised him； and he them； and their
look was as firmly impressed upon his memory； as if it had been
deeply carved in stone； and set before him from his birth。 He stood
transfixed for a moment； then； leaping from the window into the
garden； called loudly for help。
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Chapter 35
Containing The Unsatisfactory Result Of Oliver’s
Adventure； And A Conversation Of Some
Importance Between Harry Maylie And Rose。
When the inmates of the house； attracted by Oliver’s
cries； hurried to the spot from which they proceeded；
they found him； pale and agitated； pointing in the
direction of the meadows behind the house； and scarcely able to
articulate the words； “The Jew！ the Jew！”
Mr。 Giles was at a loss to comprehend what this outcry meant；
but Harry Maylie； whose perceptions were something quicker； and
who had heard Oliver’s history from his mother； understood it at
once。
“What direction did he take？” he asked； catching up a heavy
stick which was standing in a corner。
“That；” replied Oliver； pointing out the course the man had
taken； “I missed them in an instant。”
“Then； they are in the ditch！” said Harry。 “Follow！ And keep as
near me as you can。” So saying； he sprang over the hedge； and
darted off with a speed which rendered it matter of exceeding
difficulty for the others to keep near him。
Giles followed as well as he could； and Oliver followed too； and
in the course of a minute or two； Mr。 Losberne； who had been out
walking； and just then returned； tumbled over the hedge after
them； and picking himself up with more agility than he could have
been supposed to possess； struck into the same course at no
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contemptible speed； shouting all the while； most prodigiously； to
know what was the matter。
On they all went； nor stopped they once to breathe； until the
leader； striking off into an angle of the field indicated by Oliver；
began to search； narrowly； the ditch and hedge adjoining； which
afforded time for the remainder of the party to come up； and for
Oliver to communicate to Mr。 Losberne the circumstances that
had led to so vigorous a pursuit。
The search was all in vain。 There were not even the traces of
recent footsteps to be seen。 They stood now on the summit of a
little hill； commanding the open fields in every direction for three
or four miles。 There was the village in the hollow on the left；
