English
Oliversoonrecoveringfromthefainting-fitintowhichMr.Brownlow’sabruptexclamationhadthrownhim,thesubjectofthepicturewascarefullyavoided,bothbytheoldgentlemanandMrs.Bedwin,intheconversationthatensued:whichindeedborenoreferencetoOliver’shistoryorprospects,butwasconfinedtosuchtopicsasmightamusewithoutexcitinghim.
Hewasstilltooweaktogetuptobreakfast;but,whenhecamedownintothehousekeeper’sroomnextday,hisfirstactwastocastaneagerglanceatthewall,inthehopeofagainlookingonthefaceofthebeautifullady.
Hisexpectationsweredisappointed,however,forthepicturehadbeenremoved.
‘Ah!’saidthehousekeeper,watchingthedirectionofOliver’seyes.‘Itisgone,yousee.’
‘Iseeitisma’am,’repliedOliver.‘Whyhavetheytakenitaway?’
‘Ithasbeentakendown,child,becauseMr.Brownlowsaid,thatasitseemedtoworryyou,perhapsitmightpreventyourgettingwell,youknow,’rejoinedtheoldlady.
‘Oh,no,indeed.Itdidn’tworryme,ma’am,’saidOliver.‘Ilikedtoseeit.Iquitelovedit.’
‘Well,well!’saidtheoldlady,good-humouredly;‘yougetwellasfastaseveryoucan,dear,anditshallbehungupagain.There!Ipromiseyouthat!Now,letustalkaboutsomethingelse.’
ThiswasalltheinformationOlivercouldobtainaboutthepictureatthattime.
Astheoldladyhadbeensokindtohiminhisillness,heendeavouredtothinknomoreofthesubjectjustthen;sohelistenedattentivelytoagreatmanystoriesshetoldhim,aboutanamiableandhandsomedaughterofhers,whowasmarriedtoanamiableandhandsomeman,andlivedinthecountry;andaboutason,whowasclerktoamerchantintheWestIndies;andwhowas,also,suchagoodyoungman,andwrotesuchdutifullettershomefourtimesa-year,thatitbroughtthetearsintohereyestotalkaboutthem.
Whentheoldladyhadexpatiated,alongtime,ontheexcellencesofherchildren,andthemeritsofherkindgoodhusbandbesides,whohadbeendeadandgone,poordearsoul!
justsix-and-twentyyears,itwastimetohavetea.
AfterteashebegantoteachOlivercribbage:whichhelearntasquicklyasshecouldteach:andatwhichgametheyplayed,withgreatinterestandgravity,untilitwastimefortheinvalidtohavesomewarmwineandwater,withasliceofdrytoast,andthentogocosilytobed.
Theywerehappydays,thoseofOliver’srecovery.
Everythingwassoquiet,andneat,andorderly;everybodysokindandgentle;thatafterthenoiseandturbulenceinthemidstofwhichhehadalwayslived,itseemedlikeHeavenitself.
Hewasnosoonerstrongenoughtoputhisclotheson,properly,thanMr.Brownlowcausedacompletenewsuit,andanewcap,andanewpairofshoes,tobeprovidedforhim.
AsOliverwastoldthathemightdowhathelikedwiththeoldclothes,hegavethemtoaservantwhohadbeenverykindtohim,andaskedhertosellthemtoaJew,andkeepthemoneyforherself.
Thissheveryreadilydid;and,asOliverlookedoutoftheparlourwindow,andsawtheJewrollthemupinhisbagandwalkaway,hefeltquitedelightedtothinkthattheyweresafelygone,andthattherewasnownopossibledangerofhiseverbeingabletowearthemagain.
Theyweresadrags,totellthetruth;andOliverhadneverhadanewsuitbefore.
Oneevening,aboutaweekaftertheaffairofthepicture,ashewassittingtalkingtoMrs.Bedwin,therecameamessagedownfromMr.Brownlow,thatifOliverTwistfeltprettywell,heshouldliketoseehiminhisstudy,andtalktohimalittlewhile.
‘Blessus,andsaveus!Washyourhands,andletmepartyourhairnicelyforyou,child,’saidMrs.Bedwin.‘Dearheartalive!
Ifwehadknownhewouldhaveaskedforyou,wewouldhaveputyouacleancollaron,andmadeyouassmartassixpence!’
Oliverdidastheoldladybadehim;and,althoughshelamentedgrievously,meanwhile,thattherewasnoteventimetocrimpthelittlefrillthatborderedhisshirt-collar;helookedsodelicateandhandsome,despitethatimportantpersonaladvantage,thatshewentsofarastosay:lookingathimwithgreatcomplacencyfromheadtofoot,thatshereallydidn’tthinkitwouldhavebeenpossible,onthelongestnotice,tohavemademuchdifferenceinhimforthebetter.
Thusencouraged,Olivertappedatthestudydoor.
OnMr.Brownlowcallingtohimtocomein,hefoundhimselfinalittlebackroom,quitefullofbooks,withawindow,lookingintosomepleasantlittlegardens.
Therewasatabledrawnupbeforethewindow,atwhichMr.Brownlowwasseatedreading.
WhenhesawOliver,hepushedthebookawayfromhim,andtoldhimtocomenearthetable,andsitdown.
Olivercomplied;marvellingwherethepeoplecouldbefoundtoreadsuchagreatnumberofbooksasseemedtobewrittentomaketheworldwiser.
WhichisstillamarveltomoreexperiencedpeoplethanOliverTwist,everydayoftheirlives.
‘Thereareagoodmanybooks,aretherenot,myboy?’saidMr.Brownlow,observingthecuriositywithwhichOliversurveyedtheshelvesthatreachedfromthefloortotheceiling.
‘Agreatnumber,sir,’repliedOliver.‘Ineversawsomany.’
‘Youshallreadthem,ifyoubehavewell,’saidtheoldgentlemankindly;‘andyouwilllikethat,betterthanlookingattheoutsides,—thatis,somecases;becausetherearebooksofwhichthebacksandcoversarebyfarthebestparts.’
‘Isupposetheyarethoseheavyones,sir,’saidOliver,pointingtosomelargequartos,withagooddealofgildingaboutthebinding.
‘Notalwaysthose,’saidtheoldgentleman,pattingOliveronthehead,andsmilingashedidso;‘thereareotherequallyheavyones,thoughofamuchsmallersize.
Howshouldyouliketogrowupacleverman,andwritebooks,eh?’
‘IthinkIwouldratherreadthem,sir,’repliedOliver.
‘What!wouldn’tyouliketobeabook-writer?’saidtheoldgentleman.
Oliverconsideredalittlewhile;andatlastsaid,heshouldthinkitwouldbeamuchbetterthingtobeabook-seller;uponwhichtheoldgentlemanlaughedheartily,anddeclaredhehadsaidaverygoodthing.
WhichOliverfeltgladtohavedone,thoughhebynomeansknewwhatitwas.
‘Well,well,’saidtheoldgentleman,composinghisfeatures.‘Don’tbeafraid!Wewon’tmakeanauthorofyou,whilethere’sanhonesttradetobelearnt,orbrick-makingtoturnto.’
‘Thankyou,sir,’saidOliver.Attheearnestmannerofhisreply,theoldgentlemanlaughedagain;andsaidsomethingaboutacuriousinstinct,whichOliver,notunderstanding,paidnoverygreatattentionto.
‘Now,’saidMr.Brownlow,speakingifpossibleinakinder,butatthesametimeinamuchmoreseriousmanner,thanOliverhadeverknownhimassumeyet,‘Iwantyoutopaygreatattention,myboy,towhatIamgoingtosay.
Ishalltalktoyouwithoutanyreserve;becauseIamsureyouarewellabletounderstandme,asmanyolderpersonswouldbe.’
‘Oh,don’ttellyouaregoingtosendmeaway,sir,pray!’
exclaimedOliver,alarmedattheserioustoneoftheoldgentleman’scommencement!
‘Don’tturnmeoutofdoorstowanderinthestreetsagain.Letmestayhere,andbeaservant.
Don’tsendmebacktothewretchedplaceIcamefrom.Havemercyuponapoorboy,sir!’
‘Mydearchild,’saidtheoldgentleman,movedbythewarmthofOliver’ssuddenappeal;‘youneednotbeafraidofmydesertingyou,unlessyougivemecause.’
‘Inever,neverwill,sir,’interposedOliver.
‘Ihopenot,’rejoinedtheoldgentleman.‘Idonotthinkyoueverwill.
Ihavebeendeceived,before,intheobjectswhomIhaveendeavouredtobenefit;butIfeelstronglydisposedtotrustyou,nevertheless;andIammoreinterestedinyourbehalfthanIcanwellaccountfor,eventomyself.
ThepersonsonwhomIhavebestowedmydearestlove,liedeepintheirgraves;but,althoughthehappinessanddelightofmylifelieburiedtheretoo,Ihavenotmadeacoffinofmyheart,andsealeditup,forever,onmybestaffections.
Deepafflictionhasbutstrengthenedandrefinedthem.’
Astheoldgentlemansaidthisinalowvoice:moretohimselfthantohiscompanion:andasheremainedsilentforashorttimeafterwards:Oliversatquitestill.
‘Well,well!’saidtheoldgentlemanatlength,inamorecheerfultone,‘Ionlysaythis,becauseyouhaveayoungheart;andknowingthatIhavesufferedgreatpainandsorrow,youwillbemorecareful,perhaps,nottowoundmeagain.
Yousayyouareanorphan,withoutafriendintheworld;alltheinquiriesIhavebeenabletomake,confirmthestatement.
Letmehearyourstory;whereyoucomefrom;whobroughtyouup;andhowyougotintothecompanyinwhichIfoundyou.
Speakthetruth,andyoushallnotbefriendlesswhileIlive.’
Oliver’ssobscheckedhisutteranceforsomeminutes;whenhewasonthepointofbeginningtorelatehowhehadbeenbroughtupatthefarm,andcarriedtotheworkhousebyMr.Bumble,apeculiarlyimpatientlittledouble-knockwasheardatthestreet-door:andtheservant,runningupstairs,announcedMr.Grimwig.
‘Ishecomingup?’inquiredMr.Brownlow.
‘Yes,sir,’repliedtheservant.‘Heaskediftherewereanymuffinsinthehouse;and,whenItoldhimyes,hesaidhehadcometotea.’
Mr.Brownlowsmiled;and,turningtoOliver,saidthatMr.Grimwigwasanoldfriendofhis,andhemustnotmindhisbeingalittleroughinhismanners;forhewasaworthycreatureatbottom,ashehadreasontoknow.
‘ShallIgodownstairs,sir?’inquiredOliver.
‘No,’repliedMr.Brownlow,‘Iwouldratheryouremainedhere.’
Atthismoment,therewalkedintotheroom:supportinghimselfbyathickstick:astoutoldgentleman,ratherlameinoneleg,whowasdressedinabluecoat,stripedwaistcoat,nankeenbreechesandgaiters,andabroad-brimmedwhitehat,withthesidesturnedupwithgreen.
Averysmall-plaitedshirtfrillstuckoutfromhiswaistcoat;andaverylongsteelwatch-chain,withnothingbutakeyattheend,dangledlooselybelowit.
Theendsofhiswhiteneckerchiefweretwistedintoaballaboutthesizeofanorange;thevarietyofshapesintowhichhiscountenancewastwisted,defydescription.
Hehadamannerofscrewinghisheadononesidewhenhespoke;andoflookingoutofthecornersofhiseyesatthesametime:whichirresistiblyremindedthebeholderofaparrot.
Inthisattitude,hefixedhimself,themomenthemadehisappearance;and,holdingoutasmallpieceoforange-peelatarm’slength,exclaimed,inagrowling,discontentedvoice.
‘Lookhere!doyouseethis!
Isn’titamostwonderfulandextraordinarythingthatIcan’tcallataman’shousebutIfindapieceofthispoorsurgeon’sfriendonthestaircase?
I’vebeenlamedwithorange-peelonce,andIknoworange-peelwillbemydeath,orI’llbecontenttoeatmyownhead,sir!’
ThiswasthehandsomeofferwithwhichMr.Grimwigbackedandconfirmednearlyeveryassertionhemade;anditwasthemoresingularinhiscase,because,evenadmittingforthesakeofargument,thepossibilityofscientificimprovementsbeingbroughttothatpasswhichwillenableagentlemantoeathisownheadintheeventofhisbeingsodisposed,Mr.Grimwig’sheadwassuchaparticularlylargeone,thatthemostsanguinemanalivecouldhardlyentertainahopeofbeingabletogetthroughitatasitting—toputentirelyoutofthequestion,averythickcoatingofpowder.
‘I’lleatmyhead,sir,’repeatedMr.Grimwig,strikinghisstickupontheground.‘Hallo!what’sthat!’lookingatOliver,andretreatingapaceortwo.
‘ThisisyoungOliverTwist,whomwewerespeakingabout,’saidMr.Brownlow.
Oliverbowed.
‘Youdon’tmeantosaythat’stheboywhohadthefever,Ihope?’
saidMr.Grimwig,recoilingalittlemore.‘Waitaminute!Don’tspeak!
Stop—’continuedMr.Grimwig,abruptly,losingalldreadofthefeverinhistriumphatthediscovery;‘that’stheboywhohadtheorange!
Ifthat’snottheboy,sir,whohadtheorange,andthrewthisbitofpeeluponthestaircase,I’lleatmyhead,andhistoo.’
‘No,no,hehasnothadone,’saidMr.Brownlow,laughing.‘Come!Putdownyourhat;andspeaktomyyoungfriend.’
‘Ifeelstronglyonthissubject,sir,’saidtheirritableoldgentleman,drawingoffhisgloves.
‘There’salwaysmoreorlessorange-peelonthepavementinourstreet;andIknowit’sputtherebythesurgeon’sboyatthecorner.
Ayoungwomanstumbledoverabitlastnight,andfellagainstmygarden-railings;directlyshegotupIsawherlooktowardshisinfernalredlampwiththepantomime-light.
“Don’tgotohim,”Icalledoutofthewindow,“he’sanassassin!Aman-trap!”Soheis.
Ifheisnot—’Heretheirascibleoldgentlemangaveagreatknockonthegroundwithhisstick;whichwasalwaysunderstood,byhisfriends,toimplythecustomaryoffer,wheneveritwasnotexpressedinwords.
Then,stillkeepinghisstickinhishand,hesatdown;and,openingadoubleeye-glass,whichheworeattachedtoabroadblackriband,tookaviewofOliver:who,seeingthathewastheobjectofinspection,coloured,andbowedagain.
‘That’stheboy,isit?’saidMr.Grimwig,atlength.
‘That’stheboy,’repliedMr.Brownlow.
‘Howareyou,boy?’saidMr.Grimwig.
‘Agreatdealbetter,thankyou,sir,’repliedOliver.
Mr.Brownlow,seemingtoapprehendthathissingularfriendwasabouttosaysomethingdisagreeable,askedOlivertostepdownstairsandtellMrs.Bedwintheywerereadyfortea;which,ashedidnothalflikethevisitor’smanner,hewasveryhappytodo.
‘Heisanice-lookingboy,ishenot?’inquiredMr.Brownlow.
‘Idon’tknow,’repliedMr.Grimwig,pettishly.
‘Don’tknow?’
‘No.Idon’tknow.Ineverseeanydifferenceinboys.Ionlyknewtwosortofboys.Mealyboys,andbeef-facedboys.’
‘AndwhichisOliver?’
‘Mealy.Iknowafriendwhohasabeef-facedboy;afineboy,theycallhim;witharoundhead,andredcheeks,andglaringeyes;ahorridboy;withabodyandlimbsthatappeartobeswellingoutoftheseamsofhisblueclothes;withthevoiceofapilot,andtheappetiteofawolf.Iknowhim!Thewretch!’
‘Come,’saidMr.Brownlow,‘thesearenotthecharacteristicsofyoungOliverTwist;soheneedn’texciteyourwrath.’
‘Theyarenot,’repliedMr.Grimwig.‘Hemayhaveworse.’
Here,Mr.Brownlowcoughedimpatiently;whichappearedtoaffordMr.Grimwigthemostexquisitedelight.
‘Hemayhaveworse,Isay,’repeatedMr.Grimwig.‘Wheredoeshecomefrom!Whoishe?Whatishe?Hehashadafever.Whatofthat?
Feversarenotpeculiartogoodpeople;arethey?
Badpeoplehavefeverssometimes;haven’tthey,eh?
IknewamanwhowashunginJamaicaformurderinghismaster.
Hehadhadafeversixtimes;hewasn’trecommendedtomercyonthataccount.Pooh!nonsense!’
Now,thefactwas,thatintheinmostrecessesofhisownheart,Mr.GrimwigwasstronglydisposedtoadmitthatOliver’sappearanceandmannerwereunusuallyprepossessing;buthehadastrongappetiteforcontradiction,sharpenedonthisoccasionbythefindingoftheorange-peel;and,inwardlydeterminingthatnomanshoulddictatetohimwhetheraboywaswell-lookingornot,hehadresolved,fromthefirst,toopposehisfriend.
WhenMr.Brownlowadmittedthatonnoonepointofinquirycouldheyetreturnasatisfactoryanswer;andthathehadpostponedanyinvestigationintoOliver’sprevioushistoryuntilhethoughttheboywasstrongenoughtohearit;Mr.Grimwigchuckledmaliciously.
Andhedemanded,withasneer,whetherthehousekeeperwasinthehabitofcountingtheplateatnight;becauseifshedidn’tfindatable-spoonortwomissingsomesunshinymorning,why,hewouldbecontentto—andsoforth.
Allthis,Mr.Brownlow,althoughhimselfsomewhatofanimpetuousgentleman:knowinghisfriend’speculiarities,borewithgreatgoodhumour;asMr.Grimwig,attea,wasgraciouslypleasedtoexpresshisentireapprovalofthemuffins,matterswentonverysmoothly;andOliver,whomadeoneoftheparty,begantofeelmoreathiseasethanhehadyetdoneinthefierceoldgentleman’spresence.
‘Andwhenareyougoingtohearafull,true,andparticularaccountofthelifeandadventuresofOliverTwist?’
askedGrimwigofMr.Brownlow,attheconclusionofthemeal;lookingsidewaysatOliver,asheresumedhissubject.
‘To-morrowmorning,’repliedMr.Brownlow.‘Iwouldratherhewasalonewithmeatthetime.Comeuptometo-morrowmorningatteno’clock,mydear.’
‘Yes,sir,’repliedOliver.Heansweredwithsomehesitation,becausehewasconfusedbyMr.Grimwig’slookingsohardathim.
‘I’lltellyouwhat,’whisperedthatgentlemantoMr.Brownlow;‘hewon’tcomeuptoyouto-morrowmorning.Isawhimhesitate.Heisdeceivingyou,mygoodfriend.’
‘I’llswearheisnot,’repliedMr.Brownlow,warmly.
‘Ifheisnot,’saidMr.Grimwig,‘I’ll—’anddownwentthestick.
‘I’llanswerforthatboy’struthwithmylife!’saidMr.Brownlow,knockingthetable.
‘AndIforhisfalsehoodwithmyhead!’rejoinedMr.Grimwig,knockingthetablealso.
‘Weshallsee,’saidMr.Brownlow,checkinghisrisinganger.
‘Wewill,’repliedMr.Grimwig,withaprovokingsmile;‘wewill.’
Asfatewouldhaveit,Mrs.Bedwinchancedtobringin,atthismoment,asmallparcelofbooks,whichMr.Brownlowhadthatmorningpurchasedoftheidenticalbookstall-keeper,whohasalreadyfiguredinthishistory;havinglaidthemonthetable,shepreparedtoleavetheroom.
‘Stoptheboy,Mrs.Bedwin!’saidMr.Brownlow;‘thereissomethingtogoback.’
‘Hehasgone,sir,’repliedMrs.Bedwin.
‘Callafterhim,’saidMr.Brownlow;‘it’sparticular.Heisapoorman,andtheyarenotpaidfor.Therearesomebookstobetakenback,too.’
Thestreet-doorwasopened.Oliverranoneway;andthegirlrananother;andMrs.Bedwinstoodonthestepandscreamedfortheboy;buttherewasnoboyinsight.
Oliverandthegirlreturned,inabreathlessstate,toreportthattherewerenotidingsofhim.
‘Dearme,Iamverysorryforthat,’exclaimedMr.Brownlow;‘Iparticularlywishedthosebookstobereturnedto-night.’
‘SendOliverwiththem,’saidMr.Grimwig,withanironicalsmile;‘hewillbesuretodeliverthemsafely,youknow.’
‘Yes;doletmetakethem,ifyouplease,sir,’saidOliver.‘I’llrunalltheway,sir.’
TheoldgentlemanwasjustgoingtosaythatOlivershouldnotgooutonanyaccount;whenamostmaliciouscoughfromMr.Grimwigdeterminedhimthatheshould;andthat,byhispromptdischargeofthecommission,heshouldprovetohimtheinjusticeofhissuspicions:onthisheadatleast:atonce.
‘Youshallgo,mydear,’saidtheoldgentleman.‘Thebooksareonachairbymytable.Fetchthemdown.’
Oliver,delightedtobeofuse,broughtdownthebooksunderhisarminagreatbustle;andwaited,capinhand,tohearwhatmessagehewastotake.
‘Youaretosay,’saidMr.Brownlow,glancingsteadilyatGrimwig;‘youaretosaythatyouhavebroughtthosebooksback;andthatyouhavecometopaythefourpoundtenIowehim.
Thisisafive-poundnote,soyouwillhavetobringmeback,tenshillingschange.’
‘Iwon’tbetenminutes,sir,’saidOliver,eagerly.
Havingbuttonedupthebank-noteinhisjacketpocket,andplacedthebookscarefullyunderhisarm,hemadearespectfulbow,andlefttheroom.
Mrs.Bedwinfollowedhimtothestreet-door,givinghimmanydirectionsaboutthenearestway,andthenameofthebookseller,andthenameofthestreet:allofwhichOliversaidheclearlyunderstood.
Havingsuperaddedmanyinjunctionstobesureandnottakecold,theoldladyatlengthpermittedhimtodepart.
‘Blesshissweetface!’saidtheoldlady,lookingafterhim.‘Ican’tbear,somehow,tolethimgooutofmysight.’
Atthismoment,Oliverlookedgailyround,andnoddedbeforeheturnedthecorner.Theoldladysmilinglyreturnedhissalutation,and,closingthedoor,wentbacktoherownroom.
‘Letmesee;he’llbebackintwentyminutes,atthelongest,’saidMr.Brownlow,pullingouthiswatch,andplacingitonthetable.‘Itwillbedarkbythattime.’
‘Oh!youreallyexpecthimtocomeback,doyou?’inquiredMr.Grimwig.
‘Don’tyou?’askedMr.Brownlow,smiling.
ThespiritofcontradictionwasstronginMr.Grimwig’sbreast,atthemoment;anditwasrenderedstrongerbyhisfriend’sconfidentsmile.
‘No,’hesaid,smitingthetablewithhisfist,‘Idonot.
Theboyhasanewsuitofclothesonhisback,asetofvaluablebooksunderhisarm,andafive-poundnoteinhispocket.
He’lljoinhisoldfriendsthethieves,andlaughatyou.
Ifeverthatboyreturnstothishouse,sir,I’lleatmyhead.’
Withthesewordshedrewhischairclosertothetable;andtherethetwofriendssat,insilentexpectation,withthewatchbetweenthem.
Itisworthyofremark,asillustratingtheimportanceweattachtoourownjudgments,andthepridewithwhichweputforthourmostrashandhastyconclusions,that,althoughMr.Grimwigwasnotbyanymeansabad-heartedman,andthoughhewouldhavebeenunfeignedlysorrytoseehisrespectedfrienddupedanddeceived,hereallydidmostearnestlyandstronglyhopeatthatmoment,thatOliverTwistmightnotcomeback.
Itgrewsodark,thatthefiguresonthedial-platewerescarcelydiscernible;buttherethetwooldgentlemencontinuedtosit,insilence,withthewatchbetweenthem.
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