oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第27部分

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brought　to　that　pass　which　will　enable　a　gentleman　to　eat　his　own　
head　in　the　event　of　his　being　go　disposed；　Mr。　Grimwig’s　head　
was　such　a　particularly　large　one；　that　the　most　sanguine　man　
alive　could　hardly　entertain　a　hope　of　being　able　to　get　through　it　
at　a　sitting—to　put　entirely　out　of　the　question；　a　very　thick　

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coating　of　powder。　

“I’ll　eat　my　head；　sir；”　repeated　Mr。　Grimwig；　striking　his　stick　
upon　the　ground。　“Hallo！　what’s　that！”　looking　at　Oliver；　and　
retreating　a　pace　or　two。　

“This　is　young　Oliver　Twist；　whom　we　were　speaking；　about；”　
said　Mr。　Brownlow。　

Oliver　bowed。　

“You　don’t　mean　to　say　that’s　the　boy　who　had　the　fever；　I　
hope？”　said　Mr。　Grimwig；　recoiling　a　little　more。　“Wait　a　minute！　
Don’t　speak！　Stop”　continued　Mr。　Grimwig；　abruptly；　losing　all　
dread　of　the　fever　in　his　triumph　at　the　discovery；　“that’s　the　boy　
who　had　the　orange！　If　that’s　not　the　boy；　sir；　who　had　the　orange；　
and　threw　this　bit　of　peel　upon　the　staircase；　I’ll　eat　my　head；　and　
his　too。”　

“No；　no；　he　has　not　had　one；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　laughing。　
“Come！　Put　down　your　hat；　and　speak　to　my　young　friend。”　

“I　feel　strongly　on　this　subject；　sir；”　said　the　irritable　old　
gentleman；　drawing　off　his　gloves。　“There’s　always　more　or　less　
orange…peel　on　the　pavement　in　our　street；　and　I　know　it’s　put　
there　by　the　surgeon’s　boy　at　the　corner。　A　young　woman　
stumbled　over　a　bit　last　night；　and　fell　against　my　garden　railings；　
directly　she　got　up　I　saw　her　look　towards　his　infernal　red　lamp　
with　the　pantomime…light。　‘Don’t　go　to　him；’　I　called　out　of　the　
window；　‘he’s　an　assassin！　A　mantrap！’　So　he　is。　If　he　is　not—”　
Here　the　irascible　old　gentleman　gave　a　great　knock　on　the　ground　
with　his　stick；　which　was　always　understood；　by　his　friend；　to　
imply　the　customary　offer；　whenever　it　was　not　expressed　in　
words。　Then；　still　keeping　his　stick　in　his　hand；　he　sat　down；　and；　
opening　a　double　eyeglass；　which　he　wore　attached　to　a　broad；　

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black　riband；　took　a　view　of　Oliver；　who；　seeing　that　he　was　the　
object　of　inspection；　coloured；　and　bowed　again。　“That’s　the　boy；　is　
it？”　said　Mr。　Grimwig；　at　length。　

“That　is　the　boy；”　replied　Mr。　Brownlow。　

“How　are　you；　boy？”　said　Mr。　Grimwig。　

“A　great　deal　better；　thank　you；　sir；”　replied　Oliver。　

Mr。　Brownlow；　seeming　to　apprehend　that　his　singular　friend　
was　about　to　say　something　disagreeable；　asked　Oliver　to　step　
downstairs　and　tell　Mrs。　Bedwin　they　were　ready　for　tea；　which；　as　
he　did　not　half　like　the　visitor’s　manner；　he　was　very　happy　to　do。　

“He　is　a　nice…looking　boy；　is　he　not？”　inquired　Mr。　Brownlow。　

“I　don’t　know；”　replied　Mr。　Grimwig　pettishly。　

“Don’t　know？”　

“No。　I　don’t　know。　I　never　see　any　difference　in　boys。　I　only　
know　two　sorts　of　boys。　Mealy　boys；　and　beef…faced　boys。”　

“And　which　is　Oliver？”　

“Mealy。　I　know　a　friend　who　has　a　beef…faced　boy；　a　fine　boy；　
they　call　him；　with　a　round　head；　and　red　cheeks　and　glaring　eyes；　
a　horrid　boy；　with　a　body　and　limbs　that　appear　to　be　swelling　out　
of　the　seams　of　his　blue　clothes；　with　the　voice　of　a　pilot；　and　the　
appetite　of　a　wolf。　I　know　him！　The　wretch！”　

“Come；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　“these　are　not　the　characteristics　
of　young　Oliver　Twist；　so　he　needn’t　excite　your　wrath。”　

“They　are　not；”　replied　Mr。　Grimwig。　“He　may　have　worse。”　

Here；　Mr。　Brownlow　coughed　impatiently；　which　appeared　to　
afford　Mr。　Grimwig　the　most　exquisite　delight。　

“He　may　have　worse；　I　say；”　repeated　Mr。　Grimwig。　“Where　
does　he　come　from？　Who　is　he？　What　is　he？　He　has　had　a　fever。　
What　of　that？　Fevers　are　not　peculiar　to　good　people；　are　they？　

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Bad　people　have　fevers　sometimes；　haven’t　they；　eh？　I　knew　a　
man　who　was　hung　in　Jamaica　for　murdering　his　master。　He　had　
had　a　fever　six　times；　he　wasn’t　recommended　to　mercy　on　that　
account。　Pooh！　nonsense！”　

Now；　the　fact　was；　that　in　the　inmost　recesses　of　his　own　heart；　
Mr。　Grimwig　was　strongly　disposed　to　admit　that　Oliver’s　
appearance　and　manner　were　unusually　prepossessing；　but　he　
had　a　strong　appetite　for　contradiction；　sharpened　on　this　occasion　
by　the　finding　of　the　orange…peel；　and；　inwardly　determining　that　
no　man　should　dictate　to　him　whether　a　boy　was　well…looking　or　
not；　he　had　resolved；　from　the　first；　to　oppose　his　friend。　When　Mr。　
Brownlow　admitted　that　on　no　one　point　of　inquiry　could　he　yet　
return　a　satisfactory　answer；　and　that　he　had　postponed　any　
investigation　into　Oliver’s　previous　history　until　he　thought　the　
boy　was　strong　enough　to　bear　it；　Mr。　Grimwig　chuckled　
maliciously。　And　he　demanded；　with　a　sneer；　whether　the　
housekeeper　was　in　the　habit　of　counting　the　plate　at　night；　
because；　if　she　didn’t　find　a　table…spoon　or　two　missing　some　
sunshiny　morning；　why；　he　would　be　content　to—and　so　forth。　

All　this；　Mr。　Brownlow；　although　himself　somewhat　of　an　
impetuous　gentleman；　knowing　his　friend’s　peculiarities；　bore　with　
great　good…humour；　as　Mr。　Grimwig；　at　tea；　was　graciously　pleased　
to　express　his　entire　approval　of　the　muffins；　matters　went　on　very　
smoothly；　and　Oliver；　who　made　one　of　the　party；　began　to　feel　
more　at　his　ease　than　he　had　yet　done　in　the　fierce　old　gentleman’s　
presence。　

“And　when　are　you　going　to　hear　a　full；　true；　and　particular　
account　of　the　life　and　adventures　of　Oliver　Twist？”　asked　Mr。　
Grimwig　of　Mr。　Brownlow；　at　the　conclusion　of　the　meal；　looking　

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sideways　at　Oliver；　as　he　resumed　the　subject。　

“Tomorrow　morning；”　replied　Mr。　Brownlow。　“I　would　rather　
he　was　alone　with　me　at　the　time。　Come　up　to　me　tomorrow　
morning　at　ten　o’clock；　my　dear。”　

“Yes；　sir；”　replied　Oliver。　He　answered　with　some　hesitation　
because　he　was　confused　by　Mr。　Grimwig’s　looking　so　hard　at　
hum。　

“I’ll　tell　you　what；”　whispered　that　gentleman　to　Mr。　Brownlow；　
“he　won’t　come　up　to　you　tomorrow　morning。　I　saw　him　hesitate。　
He　is　deceiving　you；　my　good　friend。”　

“I’ll　swear　he　is　not；”　replied　Mr。　Brownlow　warmly。　

“If　he　is　not；”　said　Mr。　Grimwig；　“I’ll—”　and　down　went　the　
stick。　

“I’ll　answer　for　that　boy’s　truth　with　my　life！”　said　Mr。　
Brownlow；　knocking　the　table。　

“And　I　for　his　falsehood　with　my　head！”　rejoined　Mr。　Grimwig；　
knocking　the　table　also。　

“We　shall　see；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　checking　his　rising　anger。　

“We　will；”　replied　Mr。　Grimwig；　with　a　provoking　smile；　“we　
will。”　

As　fate　would　have　it；　Mrs。　Bedwin　chanced　to　bring　in；　at　this　
moment；　a　small　parcel　of　books；　which　Mr。　Brownlow　had　that　
morning　purchased　of　the　identical　book…stall　keeper；　who　has　
already　figured　in　this　history；　having　laid　them　on　the　table；　she　
prepared　to　leave　the　room。　“Stop　the　boy；　Mrs。　Bedwin！”　said　Mr。　
Brownlow；　“there　is　something　to　go　back。”　

“He　has　gone；　sir；”　replied　Mrs。　Bedwin。　

“Call　after　him；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　“it’s　particular。　He　is　a　
poor　man；　and　they　are　not　paid　for。　There　are　some　books　to　be　

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taken　back；　too。”　

The　street　door　was　opened。　Oliver　ran　one　way；　and　the　girl　
ran　another；　and　Mr。　Bedwin　stood　on　the　step　and　screamed　for　
the　boy；　but　there　was　no　boy　in　sight。　Oliver　and　the　girl　returned　
in　a　breathless　state；　to　report　that　there　were　no　tidings　of　him。　

“Dear　me；　I　am　very　sorry　for　that；”　exclaimed　Mr。　Brownlow；　
“I　particularly　wished　those　books　to　be　returned　tonight。”　

“Send　Oliver　with　them；”　said　Mr。　Grimwig；　with　an　ironical　
smile；　“he　will　be　sure　to　deliver　them　safely；　you　know。　

“Yes；　do　let　me　take　them；　if　you　please；　sir；”　said　Oliver。　“I’ll　
run　all　the　way；　sir。”　

The　old　gentleman　was　just　going　to　say　that　Oliver　should　not　
go　out　on　any　account；　when　a　most　malicious　cough　from　Mr。　
Grimwig　determined　him　that　he　should；　and　that；　by　his　prompt　
discharge　of　the　commission；　he　should　prove　to　him　the　injustice　
of　his　suspicions—on　this　head　at　least—at　once。　

“You　shall　go；　my　dear；”　said　the　old　gentleman。　“The　books　are　
on　a　chair　by　my　table。　Fetch　them　down。”　

Oliver；　delighted　to　be　of　use；　brought　down　the　books　under　
his　arm　in　a　great　bustle；　and　waited；　cap　in　hand；　to　hear　what　
message　he　was　to　take。　

“You　are　to　say；”　said　Mr。　Brownlow；　glancing　steadily　at　
Grimwig；　“you　are　to　say　that　you　have　brought　those　books　back；　
and　that　you　have　come　to　pay　the　four　pound　ten　I　owe　him。　This　
is　a　five…pound　note　so　you　will　have　to　bring　me　back　ten　shillings　
change。”　

“I　won’t　be　ten　minutes；　sir；”　replied　Oliver　eagerly。　Having　
buttoned　up　the　bank…note　in　his　jacket　pocket；　and　placed　the　
books　carefully　under　his　arm；　he　made　a　respectful　bow；　and　left　

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the　room。　Mrs。　Bedwin　followed　him　to　the　street　door；　givi