oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第83章

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beside　the　body　when　death　came　over　it。”　

“Good；”　said　Monks；　regarding　her　attentively。　“Go　on。”　

“She　spoke　of　a　young　creature；”　resumed　the　matron；　“who　
had　brought　a　child　into　the　world　some　years　before；　not　merely　
in　the　same　room；　but　in　the　same　bed；　in　which　she　then　lay　
dying。”　

‘‘Ay？”　said　Monks；　with　quivering　lip；　and　glancing　over　his　
shoulder。　“Blood！　How　things　come　about！”　

“The　child　was　the　one　you　named　to　him　last　night；”　said　the　
matron；　nodding　carelessly　towards　her　husband；　“the　mother　this　
nurse　had　robbed。”　

“In　life？”　asked　Monks。　

“In　death；”　replied　the　woman；　with　something　like　a　shudder。　
“She　stole　from　the　corpse；　when　it　had　hardly　turned　to　one；　that　
which　the　dead　mother　had　prayed　her；　with　her　last　breath；　to　
keep　for　the　infant’s　sake。”　

“She　sold　it？”　cried　Monks；　with　desperate　eagerness；　“did　she　
sell　it？　Where！　When？　To　whom？　How　long　before？”　

“As　she　told　me；　with　great　difficulty；　that　she　had　done　this；”　
said　the　matron；　“she　fell　back　and　died。”　

“Without　saying　more？”　cried　Monks；　in　a　voice　which；　from　its　
very　suppression；　seemed　only　the　more　furious。　“It’s　a　lie！　I’ll　not　
be　played　with。　She　said　more。　I’ll　tear　the　life　out　of　you　both；　but　
I’ll　know　what　it　was。”　

“She　didn’t　utter　another　word；”　said　the　woman；　to　all　
appearance　unmoved　（as　Mr。　Bumble　was　very　far　from　being）　by　
the　strange　man’s　violence；　“but　she　clutched　my　gown；　violently；　
with　one　hand；　which　was　partly　closed；　and　when　I　saw　that　she　
was　dead；　and　so　removed　the　hand　by　force；　I　found　it　clasped　a　

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scrap　of　dirty　paper。”　

“Which　contained—”　interposed　Monks；　stretching　forward。　

“Nothing；”　replied　the　woman；　“it　was　a　pawnbroker’s　
duplicate。”　

“For　what？”　demanded　Monks。　

“In　good　time　I’ll　tell　you；”　said　the　woman。　“I　judge　that　she　
had　kept　the　trinket；　for　some　time；　in　the　hope　of　turning　it　to　
better　account；　and　then　had　pawned　it；　and　had　saved　or　scraped　
together　money　to　pay　the　pawnbroker’s　interest　year　by　year；　and　
prevent　it　running　out；　so　that　if　anything　came　of　it；　it　could　still　
be　redeemed。　Nothing　had　come　of　it；　and；　as　I　tell　you；　she　died　
with　the　scrap　of　paper；　all　worn　and　tattered；　in　her　hand。　The　
time　was　out　in　two　days；　I　thought　something　might　one　day　come　
of　it　too；　and　so　redeemed　the　pledge。”　

“Where　is　it　now？”　asked　Monks　quickly。　

“There；”　replied　the　woman。　And；　as　if　glad　to　be　relieved　of　it；　
she　hastily　threw　upon　the　table　a　small　kid　bag　scarcely　large　
enough　for　a　French　watch；　which　Monks　pouncing　upon；　tore　
open　with　trembling　hands。　It　contained　a　little　gold　locket；　in　
which　were　two　locks　of　hair；　and　a　plain　gold　wedding…ring。　

“It　has　the　word　‘Agnes’　engraved　on　the　inside；”　said　the　
woman。　“There　is　a　blank　left　for　the　surname；　and　then　follows　
the　date；　which　is　within　a　year　before　the　child　was　born。　I　found　
out　that。”　

“And　this　is　all？”　said　Monks；　after　a　close　and　eager　scrutiny　of　
the　contents　of　the　little　packet。　

“All；”　replied　the　woman。　

Mr。　Bumble　drew　a　long　breath；　as　if　he　were　glad　to　find　that　
the　story　was　over；　and　no　mention　made　of　taking　the　five…and…

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twenty　pounds　back　again；　and　now　he　took　courage　to　wipe　off　
the　perspiration　which　had　been　trickling　over　his　nose；　
unchecked；　during　the　whole　of　the　previous　dialogue。　

“I　know　nothing　of　the　story；　beyond　what　I　can　guess　at；”　said　
his　wife；　addressing　Monks；　after　a　short　silence；　“and　I　want　to　
know　nothing；　for　it’s　safer　not。　But　I　may　ask　you　two　questions；　
may　I？”　

“You　may　ask；”　said　Monks；　with　some　show　of　surprise；　“but　
whether　I　answer　or　not　is　another　question。”　

“Which　makes　three；”　observed　Mr。　Bumble；　essaying　a　stroke　
of　facetiousness。　

“Is　that　what　you　expected　to　get　from　me？”　demanded　the　
matron　“It　is；”　replied　Monks。　“The　other　question？”　

“What　do　you　propose　to　do　with　it？　Can　it　be　used　against　
me？”　

“Never；”　rejoined　Monks；　“nor　against　me　either。　See　here！　But　
don’t　move　a　step　forward；　or　your　life　is　not　worth　a　bulrush。”　

With　these　words；　he　suddenly　wheeled　the　table　aside；　and　
pulling　an　iron　ring　in　the　boarding；　threw　back　a　large　trapdoor　
which　opened　close　at　Mr。　Bumble’s　feet；　and　caused　that　
gentleman　to　retire　several　paces　backward；　with　great　
precipitation。　

“Look　down；”　said　Monks；　lowering　the　lantern　into　the　gulf。　
“Don’t　fear　me。　I　could　have　let　you　down；　quietly　enough；　when　
you　were　seated　over　it；　if　that　had　been　my　game。”　

Thus　encouraged；　the　matron　drew　near　to　the　brink；　and　even　
Mr。　Bumble　himself；　impelled　by　curiosity；　ventured　to　do　the　
same。　The　turbid　water；　swollen　by　the　heavy　rain；　was　rushing　
rapidly　on　below；　and　all　other　sounds　were　lost　in　the　noise　of　its　

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plashing　and　eddying　against　the　green　and　slimy　piles。　There　had　
once　been　a　water…mill　beneath；　the　tide　foaming　and　chafing　
round　the　few　rotten　stakes；　and　fragments　of　machinery　that　yet　
remained；　seemed　to　dart　onward；　with　a　new　impulse；　when　freed　
from　the　obstacles　which　had　unavailingly　attempted　to　stem　its　
headlong　course。　

“If　you　flung　a　man’s　body　down　there；　where　would　it　be　by　
tomorrow　morning？”　said　Monks；　swinging　the　lantern　to　and　fro　
in　the　dark　well。　

“Twelve　miles　down　the　river；　and　cut　to　pieces　besides；”　
replied　Bumble；　recoiling　at　the　thought。　

Monks　drew　the　little　packet　from　his　breast；　where　he　had　
hurriedly　thrust　it；　and　tying　it　to　a　leaden　weight；　which　had　
formed　a　part　of　some　pulley；　and　was　lying　on　the　floor；　dropped　
it　into　the　stream。　It　fell　straight；　and　true　as　a　die；　clove　the　water　
with　a　scarcely　audible　splash；　and　was　gone。　

The　three；　looking　into　each　other’s　faces；　seemed　to　breathe　
more　freely。　

“There！”　said　Monks；　closing　the　trap…door；　which　fell　heavily　
back　into　its　former　position。　“If　the　sea　ever　gives　up　its　dead；　as　
books　say　it　will；　it　will　keep　its　gold　and　silver　to　itself；　and　that　
trash　among　it。　We　have　nothing　more　to　say；　and　may　break　up　
our　pleasant　party。”　

“By　all　means；”　observed　Mr。　Bumble；　with　great　alacrity。　

“You’ll　keep　a　quiet　tongue　in　your　head；　will　you？”　said　
Monks；　with　a　threatening　look。　“I　am　not　afraid　of　your　wife。”　

“You　may　depend　upon　me；　young　man；”　answered　Mr。　
Bumble；　bowing　himself　gradually　towards　the　ladder；　with　
excessive　politeness。　“On　everybody’s　account；　young　man；　on　my　

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own；　you　know；　Mr。　Monks。”　

“I　am　glad；　for　your　sake；　to　hear　it；”　remarked　Monks。　“Light　
your　lantern！　And　get　away　from　here　as　fast　as　you　can。”　

It　was　fortunate　that　the　conversation　terminated　at　this　point；　
or　Mr。　Bumble；　who　had　bowed　himself　to　within　six　inches　of　the　
ladder；　would　infallibly　have　pitched　headlong　into　the　room　
below。　He　lighted　his　lantern　from　that　which　Monks　had　
detached　the　rope；　and　now　carried　in　his　hand；　and；　making　no　
effort　to　prolong　the　discourse；　descended　in　silence；　followed　by　
his　wife。　Monks　brought　up　the　rear；　after　pausing　on　the　steps　to　
satisfy　himself　that　there　were　no　other　sounds　to　be　heard　than　
the　beating　of　the　rain　without；　and　the　rushing　of　the　water。　

They　traversed　the　lower　room；　slowly；　and　with　caution；　for　
Monks　started　at　every　shadow；　and　Mr。　Bumble；　holding　his　
lantern　a　foot　above　the　ground；　walked　not　only　with　remarkable　
care；　but　with　a　marvellously　light　step　for　a　gentleman　of　his　
figure；　looking　nervously　about　him　for　hidden　trap…doors。　The　
gate　at　which　they　had　entered；　was　softly　unfastened　and　opened　
by　Monks；　and；　merely　exchanging　a　nod　with　their　mysterious　
acquaintance；　the　married　couple　emerged　into　the　wet　and　
darkness　outside。　

They　were　no　sooner　gone；　than　Monks；　who　appeared　to　
entertain