oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第90章

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the　instrument　of　Oliver’s　recapture；　to　trust　him　with　the　secret；　
when　her　representations　in　the　girl’s　behalf　could　be　seconded　by　
no　experienced　person。　These　were　all　reasons　for　the　greatest　

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caution　and　most　circumspect　behaviour　in　communicating　it　to　
Mrs。　Maylie；　whose　first　impulse　would　infallibly　be　to　hold　a　
conference　with　the　worthy　doctor　on　the　subject。　As　to　resorting　
to　any　legal　adviser；　even　if　she　had　known　how　to　do　so；　it　was　
scarcely　to　be　thought　of；　for　the　same　reasons。　Once　the　thought　
occurred　to　her　of　seeking　assistance　from　Harry；　but　this　
awakened　the　recollection　of　their　last　parting；　and　it　seemed　
unworthy　of　her　to　call　him　back；　when—the　tears　rose　to　her　eyes　
as　she　pursued　this　train　of　reflection—he　might　have　by　this　time　
learned　to　forget　her；　and　to　be　happier　away。　

Disturbed　by　these　different　reflections；　inclining　now　to　one　
course　and　then　to　another；　and　again　recoiling　from　all；　as　each　
successive　consideration　presented　itself　to　her　mind；　Rose　passed　
a　sleepless　and　anxious　night。　After　more　communing　with　herself　
next　day；　she　arrived　at　the　desperate　conclusion　of　consulting　
Harry。　

“If　it　be　painful　to　him；”　she　thought；　“to　come　back　here；　how　
painful　it　will　be　to　me！　But　perhaps　he　will　not　come；　he　may　
write；　or　he　may　come　himself；　and　studiously　abstain　from　
meeting　me—he　did　when　he　went　away。　I　hardly　thought　he　
would；　but　it　was　better　for　us　both。”　And　here　Rose　dropped　the　
pen；　and　turned　away；　as　though　the　very　paper　which　was　to　be　
her　messenger　should　not　see　her　weep。　

She　had　taken　up　the　same　pen；　and　laid　it　down　again　fifty　
times；　and　had　considered　and　reconsidered　the　first　line　of　her　
letter　without　writing　the　first　word；　when　Oliver；　who　had　been　
walking　in　the　streets；　with　Mr。　Giles　for　a　bodyguard；　entered　the　
room　in　such　breathless　haste　and　violent　agitation；　as　seemed　to　
betoken　some　new　cause　of　alarm。　

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“What　makes　you　look　so　hurried？”　asked　Rose；　advancing　to　
meet　him。　

“I　hardly　know　how；　I　feel　as　if　I　should　be　choked；”　replied　the　
boy。　“Oh；　dear！　To　think　that　I　should　see　him　at　last；　and　you　
should　be　able　to　know　that　I　have　told　you　all　the　truth！”　

“I　never　thought　you　had　told　us　anything　but　the　truth；”　said　
Rose；　soothing　him。　“But　what　is　this？—of　whom　do　you　speak？”　

“I　have　seen　the　gentleman；”　replied　Oliver；　scarcely　able　to　
articulate；　“the　gentleman　who　was　so　good　to　me—Mr。　Brownlow；　
that　we　have　so　often　talked　about。”　

“Where？”　asked　Rose。　

“Getting　out　of　a　coach；”　replied　Oliver；　shedding　tears　of　
delight；　“and　going　into　a　house。　I　didn’t　speak　to　him—I　couldn’t　
speak　to　him；　for　he　didn’t　see　me；　and　I　trembled　so；　that　I　was　
not　able　to　go　up　to　him。　But　Giles　asked；　for　me；　whether　he　lived　
there；　and　they　said　he　did。　Look　here；”　said　Oliver；　opening　a　
scrap　of　paper；　“here　it　is；　here’s　where　he　lives—I’m　going　there　
directly！　Oh；　dear　me；　dear　me！　What　shall　I　do　when　I　come　to　see　
him　and　hear　him　speak　again！”　

With　her　attention　not　a　little　distracted　by　these　and　a　great　
many　other　incoherent　exclamations　of　joy；　Rose　read　the　address；　
which　was　Craven　Street；　in　the　Strand；　and　very　soon　determined　
upon　turning　the　discovery　to　account。　

“Quick！”　she　said；　“tell　them　to　fetch　a　hackney…coach；　and　be　
ready　to　go　with　me。　I　will　take　you　there　directly；　without　a　
moment’s　loss　of　time。　I　will　only　tell　my　aunt　that　we　are　going　
out　for　an　hour；　and　be　ready　as　soon　as　you　are。”　

Oliver　needed　no　prompting　to　despatch；　and　in　little　more　than　
five　minutes　they　were　on　their　way　to　Craven　Street。　When　they　

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arrived　there；　Rose　left　Oliver　in　the　coach；　under　pretence　of　
preparing　the　old　gentleman　to　receive　him；　and　sending　up　her　
card　by　the　servant；　requested　to　see　Mr。　Brownlow　on　very　
pressing　business。　The　servant　soon　returned；　to　beg　that　she　
would　walk　upstairs；　and　following　him　into　an　upper　room；　Miss　
Maylie　was　presented　to　an　elderly　gentleman　of　benevolent　
appearance；　in　a　bottle…green　coat。　At　no　great　distance　from　
whom；　was　seated　another　old　gentleman；　in　nankeen　breeches　
and　gaiters；　who　did　not　look　particularly　benevolent；　and　who　
was　sitting　with　his　hands　clasped　on　the　top　of　a　thick　stick；　and　
his　chin　propped　thereupon。　

“Dear　me；”　said　the　gentleman　in　the　bottle…green　coat；　hastily　
rising　with　great　politeness；　“I　beg　your　pardon；　young　lady—I　
imagined　it　was　some　importunate　person　who—I　beg　you　will　
excuse　me。　Be　seated；　pray。”　

“Mr。　Brownlow；　I　believe；　sir？”　said　Rose；　glancing　from　the　
other　gentleman　to　the　one　who　had　spoken。　

“That　is　my　name；”　said　the　old　gentleman。　“This　is　my　friend；　
Mr。　Grimwig。　Grimwig；　will　you　leave　us　for　a　few　minutes？”　

“I　believe；”　interposed　Miss　Maylie；　“that　at　this　period　of　our　
interview；　I　need　not　give　the　gentleman　the　trouble　of　going　away。　
If　I　am　correctly　informed；　he　is　cognisant　of　the　business　on　
which　I　wish　to　speak　to　you。”　

Mr。　Brownlow　inclined　his　head。　Mr。　Grimwig；　who　had　made　
one　very　stiff　bow；　and　risen　from　his　chair；　made　another　very　
stiff　bow；　and　dropped　into　it　again。　

“I　shall　surprise　you　very　much；　I　have　no　doubt；”　said　Rose；　
naturally　embarrassed；　“but　you　once　showed　great　benevolence　
and　goodness　to　a　very　dear　young　friend　of　mine；　and　I　am　sure　

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you　will　take　an　interest　in　hearing　of　him　again。”　

“Indeed！”　said　Mr。　Brownlow。　

“Oliver　Twist　you　knew　him　as；”　replied　Rose。　

The　words　no　sooner　escaped　her　lips；　than　Mr。　Grimwig；　who　
had　been　affecting　to　dip　into　a　large　book　that　lay　on　the　table；　
upset　it　with　a　great　crash；　and　falling　back　in　his　chair；　
discharged　from　his　features　every　expression　but　one　of　
unmitigated　wonder；　and　indulged　in　a　prolonged　and　vacant　
stare；　then；　as　if　ashamed　of　having　betrayed　so　much　emotion；　he　
jerked　himself；　as　it　were；　by　a　convulsion　into　his　former　attitude；　
and　looking　out　straight　before　him　emitted　a　long；　deep　whistle；　
which　seemed；　at　last；　not　to　be　discharged　on　empty　air；　but　to　die　
away　in　the　innermost　recesses　of　his　stomach。　

Mr。　Brownlow　was　no　less　surprised；　although　his　astonishment　
was　not　expressed　in　the　same　eccentric　manner。　He　drew　his　
chair　nearer　to　Miss　Maylie’s；　and　said：　

“Do　me　the　favour；　my　dear　young　lady；　to　leave　entirely　out　of　
the　question　that　goodness　and　benevolence　of　which　you　speak；　
and　of　which　nobody　else　knows　anything；　and　if　you　have　it　in　
your　power　to　produce　any　evidence　which　will　alter　the　
unfavourable　opinion　I　was　once　induced　to　entertain　of　that　poor　
child；　in　Heaven’s　name　put　me　in　possession　of　it。”　

“A　bad　one！　I’ll　eat　my　head　if　he　is　not　a　bad　one；”　growled　Mr。　
Grimwig；　speaking　by　some　ventriloquial　power；　without　moving　a　
muscle　of　his　face。　

“He　is　a　child　of　a　noble　nature　and　a　warm　heart；”　said　Rose；　
colouring；　“and　that　Power　which　has　thought　fit　to　try　him　
beyond　his　years；　has　planted　in　his　breast　affections　and　feelings　
which　would　do　honour　to　many　who　have　numbered　his　days　six　

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times　over。”　

“I’m　only　sixty…one；”　said　Mr。　Grimwig；　with　the　same　rigid　
face。　“And；　as　the　devil’s　in　it　if　this　Oliver　is　not　twelve　years　old　
at　least；　I　don’t　see　the　application　of　that　remark。”　

“Do　not　heed　my　friend；　Miss　Maylie；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　“he　
does　not　mean　what　he　says。”　

“Yes；　he　does；”　growled　Mr。　Grimwig。　

“No；　he　does　not；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　obviously　rising　in　wrath　
as　he　spoke。　

“He’ll　eat　his　head；　if　he　doesn’t；”　growled　Mr。　Grimwig。　

“He　would　deserve　to　have　it　knocked　off；　if　he　does；”　said　Mr。　
Brownlow。　

“And　he’d　uncommonly　like　to　see　any　man　offer　to　do　it；”　
responded　Mr。　Grim