oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第61部分

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out；　accordingly；　in　a　little　carriage　which　belonged　to　Mrs。　Maylie。　
When　they　came　to　Chertsey　Bridge；　Oliver　turned　very　pale；　and　
uttered　a　loud　exclamation。　

“What’s　the　matter　with　the　boy？”　cried　the　doctor；　as　usual；　all　
in　a　bustle。　“Do　you　see　anything—hear　anything—feel　anything—　
eh？”　

“That；　sir；”　cried　Oliver；　pointing　out　of　the　carriage　window。　
“That　house！”　

“Yes；　well；　what　of　it？　Stop；　coachman。　Pull　up　here；”　cried　the　
doctor。　“What　of　the　house；　my　man；　eh？”　

“The　thieves—the　house　they　took　me　to！”　whispered　Oliver。　

“The　devil　it　is！”　cried　the　doctor。　“Hallo；　there！　let　me　out！”　

But；　before　the　coachman　could　dismount　from　his　box；　he　had　
tumbled　out　of　the　coach；　by　some　means　or　other；　and；　running　
down　to　the　deserted　tenement；　began　kicking　at　the　door　like　a　
madman。　

“Hallo！”　said　a　little；　ugly；　humpbacked　man；　opening　the　door　
so　suddenly；　that　the　doctor；　from　the　very　impetus　of　his　last　kick；　
nearly　fell　into　the　passage。　“What’s　the　matter　here？”　

“Matter！”　exclaimed　the　other；　collaring　him；　without　a　
moment’s　reflection。　“A　good　deal。　Robbery　is　the　matter。”　

“There’ll　be　murder　the　matter；　too；”　replied　the　humpbacked　
man；　coolly；　“if　you　don’t　take　your　hands　off。　Do　you　hear　me？”　

“I　hear　you；”　said　the　doctor；　giving　his　captive　a　hearty　shake。　
“Where’s—confound　the　fellow；　what’s　his　rascally　name—Sikes；　
that’s　it。　Where’s　Sikes；　you　thief？”　

The　humpbacked　man　stared；　as　if　in　excess　of　amazement　and　

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indignation；　then；　twisting　himself；　dextrously；　from　the　doctor’s　
grasp；　growled　forth　a　volley　of　horrid　oaths；　and　retired　into　the　
house。　Before　he　could　shut　the　door；　however；　the　doctor　had　
passed　into　the　parlour；　without　a　word　of　parley。　He　looked　
anxiously　round；　not　an　article　of　furniture；　not　a　vestige　of　
anything；　animate　or　inanimate；　not　even　the　position　of　the　
cupboards；　answered　Oliver’s　description？　

“Now！”　said　the　humpbacked　man；　who　had　watched　him　
keenly；　“what　do　you　mean　by　coming　into　my　house；　in　this　
violent　way？　Do　you　want　to　rob　me；　or　to　murder　me？　Which　is　
it？”　

“Did　you　ever　know　a　man　come　out　to　do　either；　in　a　chariot　
and　pair；　you　ridiculous　old　vampire？”　said　the　irritable　doctor。　

“What　do　you　want；　then？”　demanded　the　hunchback。　“Will　
you　take　yourself　off；　before　I　do　you　a　mischief？　Curse　you！”　

“As　soon　as　I　think　proper；”　said　Mr。　Losberne；　looking　into　the　
other　parlour；　which；　like　the　first；　bore　no　resemblance　whatever　
to　Oliver’s　account　of　it。　“I　shall　find　you　out；　some　day；　my　
friend。”　

“Will　you？”　sneered　the　ill…favoured　cripple。　“If　you　ever　want　
me；　I’m　here。　I　haven’t　lived　here　mad　and　all　alone；　for　five…andtwenty　years；　to　be　scared　by　you。　You　shall　pay　for　this；　you　shall　
pay　for　this。”　And　so　saying；　the　misshapen　little　demon　set　up　a　
yell；　and　danced　upon　the　ground；　as　if　wild　with　rage。　

“Stupid　enough；　this；”　muttered　the　doctor　to　himself；　“the　boy　
must　have　made　a　mistake。　Here！　Put　that　in　your　pocket；　and　
shut　yourself　up　again。”　With　these　words　he　flung　the　hunchback　
a　piece　of　money；　and　returned　to　the　carriage。　

The　man　followed　to　the　chariot　door；　uttering　the　wildest　

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imprecations　and　curses　all　the　way；　but　as　Mr。　Losberne　turned　
to　speak　to　the　driver；　he　looked　into　the　carriage；　and　eyed　Oliver　
for　an　instant　with　a　glance　so　sharp　and　fierce；　and　at　the　same　
time　so　furious　and　vindictive；　that；　waking　or　sleeping；　he　could　
not　forget　it　for　months　afterwards。　He　continued　to　utter　the　most　
fearful　imprecations；　until　the　driver　had　resumed　his　seat；　and　
when　they　were　once　more　on　their　way；　they　could　see　him　some　
distance　behind；　beating　his　feet　upon　the　ground；　and　tearing　his　
hair；　in　transports　of　real　or　pretended　rage。　

“I　am　an　ass！”　said　the　doctor；　after　a　long　silence。　“Did　you　
know　that　before；　Oliver？”　

“No；　sir。”　

“Then　don’t　forget　it　another　time。”　

“An　ass；”　said　the　doctor　again；　after　a　further　silence　of　some　
minutes。　“Even　if　it　had　been　the　right　place；　and　the　right　fellows　
had　been　there；　what　could　I　have　done；　single…handed？　And　if　I　
had　had　assistance；　I　see　no　good　that　I　should　have　done；　except　
leading　to　my　own　exposure；　and　an　unavoidable　statement　of　the　
manner　in　which　I　have　hushed　up　this　business。　That　would　have　
served　me　right；　though。　I　am　always　involving　myself　in　some　
scrape　or　other；　by　acting　on　impulse。　It　might　have　done　me　
good。”　

Now；　the　fact　was　that　the　excellent　doctor　had　never　acted　
upon　anything　but　impulse　all　through　his　life；　and　it　was　no　bad　
compliment　to　the　nature　of　the　impulses　which　governed　him；　
that　so　far　from　being　involved　in　any　peculiar　troubles　or　
misfortunes；　he　had　the　warmest　respect　and　esteem　of　all　who　
knew　him。　If　the　truth　must　be　told；　he　was　a　little　out　of　temper；　
for　a　minute　or　two；　at　being　disappointed　in　procuring　

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corroborative　evidence　of　Oliver’s　story；　on　the　very　first　occasion　
on　which　he　had　a　chance　of　obtaining　any。　He　soon　came　round　
again；　however；　and　finding　that　Oliver’s　replies　to　his　questions　
were　still　as　straightforward　and　consistent；　and　still　delivered　
with　as　much　apparent　sincerity　and　truth；　as　they　had　ever　been。　
he　made　up　his　mind　to　attach　full　credence　to　them；　from　that　
time　forth。　

As　Oliver　knew　the　name　of　the　street　in　which　Mr。　Brownlow　
resided；　they　were　enabled　to　drive　straight　thither。　When　the　
coach　turned　into　it；　his　heart　beat　so　violently；　that　he　could　
scarcely　draw　his　breath。　

“Now；　my　boy；　which　house　is　it？”　inquired　Mr。　Losberne。　

“That！　That！”　replied　Oliver；　pointing　eagerly　out　of　the　
window。　“The　white　house。　Oh！　make　haste！　Pray　make　haste！　I　
feel　as　if　I　should　die；　it　makes　me　tremble　so。”　

“Come；　come！”　said　the　good　doctor；　patting　him　on　the　
shoulder。　“You　will　see　them　directly；　and　they　will　be　overjoyed　
to　find　you　safe　and　well。”　

“Oh！　I　hope　so！”　cried　Oliver。　“They　were　so　good　to　me；　so　
very；　very　good　to　me。”　

The　coach　rolled　on。　It　stopped。　No；　that　was　the　wrong　house；　
the　next　door。　It　went　on　a　few　paces；　and　stopped　again。　Oliver　
looked　up　at　the　windows；　with　tears　of　happy　expectation　
coursing　down　his　face。　

Alas！　the　white　house　was　empty　and　there　was　a　bill　in　the　
window。　“To　Let。”　

“Knock　at　the　next　door；”　cried　Mr。　Losberne；　taking　Oliver’s　
arm　in　his。　“What　has　become　of　Mr。　Brownlow；　who　used　to　live　
in　the　adjoining　house；　do　you　know？”　

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The　servant　did　not　know；　but　would　go　and　inquire。　She　
presently　returned；　and　said；　that　Mr。　Brownlow　had　sold　off　his　
goods；　and　gone　to　the　West　Indies；　six　weeks　before。　Oliver　
clasped　his　hands；　and　sank　feebly　backward。　

“Has　his　housekeeper　gone；　too？”　inquired　Mr。　Losberne；　after　
a　moment’s　pause。　

“Yes；　sir；”　replied　the　servant。　“The　old　gentleman；　the　
housekeeper；　and　a　gentleman　who　was　a　friend　of　Mr。　
Brownlow’s；　all　went　together。”　

“Then　turn　towards　home　again；”　said　Mr。　Losberne　to　the　
driver；　“and　don’t　stop　to　bait　the　horses；　till　you　get　out　of　this　
confounded　London！”　

“The　book…stall　keeper；　sir？”　said　Oliver。　“I　know　the　way　there。　
See　him；　pray；　sir！　Do　see　him！”　

“My　poor　boy；　this　is　disappointment　enough　for　one　day；”　said　
the　doctor。　“Quite　enough　for　both　of　us。　If　we　go　to　the　book…stall　
keeper’s；　we　shall　certainly　find　that　he　is　dead；　or　has　set　his　
house　on　fire；　or　run　away。　No；　home　again；　straight！”　And　in　
obedience　to　the　doctor’s　impulse；　home　they　went。　

This　bitter　disappointment　caused　Oliver　much　sorrow　and　
grief；　even　in　the　midst　of　his　happiness；　for　he　had　pleased　
himself；　many　times　during　his　illness；　with　thinking　of　all　that　Mr。　
Brownlow　and　Mrs。　Bedwin　would　say　to　him；　and　what　delight　it　
would　be　to　tell　them　how　many　long　days　and　nights　he　had　
passed　in　reflecting　on　what　they　had　done　for　him；　and　in　
bewailing　his　cruel　separation　from　them。　The　hope　of　eventually　
clearing　himself　with　them；　too；　and　explaining　how　he　had　been　
forced　away；　had　buoyed　him　up；　and　sustained　him；　under　many　
of　his　recent　trials；　and　now；　the　idea　that　they　should　have　gone　

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so　far；　and　carried　with　them　the　belief　that　he　was　an　impostor　
and　robber—a　belief　which　might　remain　uncontradicted　to　his　
dying　day—was　almost　more　than　he　could　bear。　

The　circumstance　occasioned　no　alteration；　however；　in　the　
behaviour　of　his　benefactors。　After　another　fortnight；　when　the　
fine　warm　weather　had　fairly　begun；　and　every　tree　and　flower　
was　putting　forth　its　young　leaves　and　rich　blossoms；　they　made　
preparations　for　quitting　the　house　at　Chertsey；　for　some　months。　
Sending　the　plate；　which　had　so　excited