English
Oliver’sailingswereneitherslightnorfew.
Inadditiontothepainanddelayattendantonabrokenlimb,hisexposuretothewetandcoldhadbroughtonfeverandague:whichhungabouthimformanyweeks,andreducedhimsadly.
But,atlength,hebegan,byslowdegrees,togetbetter,andtobeabletosaysometimes,inafewtearfulwords,howdeeplyhefeltthegoodnessofthetwosweetladies,andhowardentlyhehopedthatwhenhegrewstrongandwellagain,hecoulddosomethingtoshowhisgratitude;onlysomething,whichwouldletthemseetheloveanddutywithwhichhisbreastwasfull;something,howeverslight,whichwouldprovetothemthattheirgentlekindnesshadnotbeencastaway;butthatthepoorboywhomtheircharityhadrescuedfrommisery,ordeath,waseagertoservethemwithhiswholeheartandsoul.
‘Poorfellow!’saidRose,whenOliverhadbeenonedayfeeblyendeavouringtoutterthewordsofthankfulnessthatrosetohispalelips;‘youshallhavemanyopportunitiesofservingus,ifyouwill.
Wearegoingintothecountry,andmyauntintendsthatyoushallaccompanyus.
Thequietplace,thepureair,andallthepleasureandbeautiesofspring,willrestoreyouinafewdays.
Wewillemployyouinahundredways,whenyoucanbearthetrouble.’
‘Thetrouble!’criedOliver.‘Oh!
dearlady,ifIcouldbutworkforyou;ifIcouldonlygiveyoupleasurebywateringyourflowers,orwatchingyourbirds,orrunningupanddownthewholedaylong,tomakeyouhappy;whatwouldIgivetodoit!’
‘Youshallgivenothingatall,’saidMissMaylie,smiling;‘for,asItoldyoubefore,weshallemployyouinahundredways;andifyouonlytakehalfthetroubletopleaseus,thatyoupromisenow,youwillmakemeveryhappyindeed.’
‘Happy,ma’am!’criedOliver;‘howkindofyoutosayso!’
‘YouwillmakemehappierthanIcantellyou,’repliedtheyounglady.
‘Tothinkthatmydeargoodauntshouldhavebeenthemeansofrescuinganyonefromsuchsadmiseryasyouhavedescribedtous,wouldbeanunspeakablepleasuretome;buttoknowthattheobjectofhergoodnessandcompassionwassincerelygratefulandattached,inconsequence,woulddelightme,morethanyoucanwellimagine.Doyouunderstandme?’
sheinquired,watchingOliver’sthoughtfulface.
‘Ohyes,ma’am,yes!’repliedOlivereagerly;‘butIwasthinkingthatIamungratefulnow.’
‘Towhom?’inquiredtheyounglady.
‘Tothekindgentleman,andthedearoldnurse,whotooksomuchcareofmebefore,’rejoinedOliver.‘IftheyknewhowhappyIam,theywouldbepleased,Iamsure.’
‘Iamsuretheywould,’rejoinedOliver’sbenefactress;‘andMr.Losbernehasalreadybeenkindenoughtopromisethatwhenyouarewellenoughtobearthejourney,hewillcarryyoutoseethem.’
‘Hashe,ma’am?’criedOliver,hisfacebrighteningwithpleasure.‘Idon’tknowwhatIshalldoforjoywhenIseetheirkindfacesonceagain!’
InashorttimeOliverwassufficientlyrecoveredtoundergothefatigueofthisexpedition.
OnemorningheandMr.Losbernesetout,accordingly,inalittlecarriagewhichbelongedtoMrs.Maylie.
WhentheycametoChertseyBridge,Oliverturnedverypale,andutteredaloudexclamation.
‘What’sthematterwiththeboy?’criedthedoctor,asusual,allinabustle.‘Doyouseeanything—hearanything—feelanything—eh?’
‘That,sir,’criedOliver,pointingoutofthecarriagewindow.‘Thathouse!’
‘Yes;well,whatofit?Stopcoachman.Pulluphere,’criedthedoctor.‘Whatofthehouse,myman;eh?’
‘Thethieves—thehousetheytookmeto!’whisperedOliver.
‘Thedevilitis!’criedthedoctor.‘Hallo,there!letmeout!’
But,beforethecoachmancoulddismountfromhisbox,hehadtumbledoutofthecoach,bysomemeansorother;and,runningdowntothedesertedtenement,begankickingatthedoorlikeamadman.
‘Halloa?’saidalittleuglyhump-backedman:openingthedoorsosuddenly,thatthedoctor,fromtheveryimpetusofhislastkick,nearlyfellforwardintothepassage.‘What’sthematterhere?’
‘Matter!’exclaimedtheother,collaringhim,withoutamoment’sreflection.‘Agooddeal.Robberyisthematter.’
‘There’llbeMurderthematter,too,’repliedthehump-backedman,coolly,‘ifyoudon’ttakeyourhandsoff.Doyouhearme?’
‘Ihearyou,’saidthedoctor,givinghiscaptiveaheartyshake.
‘Where’s—confoundthefellow,what’shisrascallyname—Sikes;that’sit.Where’sSikes,youthief?’
Thehump-backedmanstared,asifinexcessofamazementandindignation;then,twistinghimself,dexterously,fromthedoctor’sgrasp,growledforthavolleyofhorridoaths,andretiredintothehouse.
Beforehecouldshutthedoor,however,thedoctorhadpassedintotheparlour,withoutawordofparley.
Helookedanxiouslyround;notanarticleoffurniture;notavestigeofanything,animateorinanimate;noteventhepositionofthecupboards;answeredOliver’sdescription!
‘Now!’saidthehump-backedman,whohadwatchedhimkeenly,‘whatdoyoumeanbycomingintomyhouse,inthisviolentway?Doyouwanttorobme,ortomurderme?Whichisit?’
‘Didyoueverknowamancomeouttodoeither,inachariotandpair,youridiculousoldvampire?’saidtheirritabledoctor.
‘Whatdoyouwant,then?’demandedthehunchback.‘Willyoutakeyourselfoff,beforeIdoyouamischief?Curseyou!’
‘AssoonasIthinkproper,’saidMr.Losberne,lookingintotheotherparlour;which,likethefirst,borenoresemblancewhatevertoOliver’saccountofit.
‘Ishallfindyouout,someday,myfriend.’
‘Willyou?’sneeredtheill-favouredcripple.‘Ifyoueverwantme,I’mhere.
Ihaven’tlivedheremadandallalone,forfive-and-twentyyears,tobescaredbyyou.
Youshallpayforthis;youshallpayforthis.’
Andsosaying,themis-shapenlittledemonsetupayell,anddancedupontheground,asifwildwithrage.
‘Stupidenough,this,’mutteredthedoctortohimself;‘theboymusthavemadeamistake.Here!
Putthatinyourpocket,andshutyourselfupagain.’
Withthesewordsheflungthehunchbackapieceofmoney,andreturnedtothecarriage.
Themanfollowedtothechariotdoor,utteringthewildestimprecationsandcursesalltheway;butasMr.Losberneturnedtospeaktothedriver,helookedintothecarriage,andeyedOliverforaninstantwithaglancesosharpandfierceandatthesametimesofuriousandvindictive,that,wakingorsleeping,hecouldnotforgetitformonthsafterwards.
Hecontinuedtoutterthemostfearfulimprecations,untilthedriverhadresumedhisseat;andwhentheywereoncemoreontheirway,theycouldseehimsomedistancebehind:beatinghisfeetupontheground,andtearinghishair,intransportsofrealorpretendedrage.
‘Iamanass!’saidthedoctor,afteralongsilence.‘Didyouknowthatbefore,Oliver?’
‘No,sir.’
‘Thendon’tforgetitanothertime.’
‘Anass,’saidthedoctoragain,afterafurthersilenceofsomeminutes.
‘Evenifithadbeentherightplace,andtherightfellowshadbeenthere,whatcouldIhavedone,single-handed?
AndifIhadhadassistance,IseenogoodthatIshouldhavedone,exceptleadingtomyownexposure,andanunavoidablestatementofthemannerinwhichIhavehushedupthisbusiness.
Thatwouldhaveservedmeright,though.
Iamalwaysinvolvingmyselfinsomescrapeorother,byactingonimpulse.Itmighthavedonemegood.’
Now,thefactwasthattheexcellentdoctorhadneveracteduponanythingbutimpulseallthroughhislife,anditwasnobadcomplimenttothenatureoftheimpulseswhichgovernedhim,thatsofarfrombeinginvolvedinanypeculiartroublesormisfortunes,hehadthewarmestrespectandesteemofallwhoknewhim.
Ifthetruthmustbetold,hewasalittleoutoftemper,foraminuteortwo,atbeingdisappointedinprocuringcorroborativeevidenceofOliver’sstoryontheveryfirstoccasiononwhichhehadachanceofobtainingany.
Hesooncameroundagain,however;andfindingthatOliver’srepliestohisquestions,werestillasstraightforwardandconsistent,andstilldeliveredwithasmuchapparentsincerityandtruth,astheyhadeverbeen,hemadeuphismindtoattachfullcredencetothem,fromthattimeforth.
AsOliverknewthenameofthestreetinwhichMr.Brownlowresided,theywereenabledtodrivestraightthither.
Whenthecoachturnedintoit,hisheartbeatsoviolently,thathecouldscarcelydrawhisbreath.
‘Now,myboy,whichhouseisit?’inquiredMr.Losberne.
‘That!That!’repliedOliver,pointingeagerlyoutofthewindow.‘Thewhitehouse.Oh!makehaste!Praymakehaste!IfeelasifIshoulddie:itmakesmetrembleso.’
‘Come,come!’saidthegooddoctor,pattinghimontheshoulder.‘Youwillseethemdirectly,andtheywillbeoverjoyedtofindyousafeandwell.’
‘Oh!Ihopeso!’criedOliver.‘Theyweresogoodtome;sovery,verygoodtome.’
Thecoachrolledon.Itstopped.
No;thatwasthewronghouse;thenextdoor.
Itwentonafewpaces,andstoppedagain.
Oliverlookedupatthewindows,withtearsofhappyexpectationcoursingdownhisface.
Alas!thewhitehousewasempty,andtherewasabillinthewindow.‘ToLet.’
‘Knockatthenextdoor,’criedMr.Losberne,takingOliver’sarminhis.‘WhathasbecomeofMr.Brownlow,whousedtoliveintheadjoininghouse,doyouknow?’
Theservantdidnotknow;butwouldgoandinquire.
Shepresentlyreturned,andsaid,thatMr.Brownlowhadsoldoffhisgoods,andgonetotheWestIndies,sixweeksbefore.
Oliverclaspedhishands,andsankfeeblybackward.
‘Hashishousekeepergonetoo?’inquiredMr.Losberne,afteramoment’spause.
‘Yes,sir’;repliedtheservant.‘Theoldgentleman,thehousekeeper,andagentlemanwhowasafriendofMr.Brownlow’s,allwenttogether.’
‘Thenturntowardshomeagain,’saidMr.Losbernetothedriver;‘anddon’tstoptobaitthehorses,tillyougetoutofthisconfoundedLondon!’
‘Thebook-stallkeeper,sir?’saidOliver.‘Iknowthewaythere.Seehim,pray,sir!Doseehim!’
‘Mypoorboy,thisisdisappointmentenoughforoneday,’saidthedoctor.‘Quiteenoughforbothofus.
Ifwegotothebook-stallkeeper’s,weshallcertainlyfindthatheisdead,orhassethishouseonfire,orrunaway.No;homeagainstraight!’
Andinobediencetothedoctor’simpulse,hometheywent.
ThisbitterdisappointmentcausedOlivermuchsorrowandgrief,eveninthemidstofhishappiness;forhehadpleasedhimself,manytimesduringhisillness,withthinkingofallthatMr.BrownlowandMrs.Bedwinwouldsaytohim:andwhatdelightitwouldbetotellthemhowmanylongdaysandnightshehadpassedinreflectingonwhattheyhaddoneforhim,andinbewailinghiscruelseparationfromthem.
Thehopeofeventuallyclearinghimselfwiththem,too,andexplaininghowhehadbeenforcedaway,hadbuoyedhimup,andsustainedhim,undermanyofhisrecenttrials;andnow,theideathattheyshouldhavegonesofar,andcarriedwiththemthebeliefthathewasanimpostorandarobber—abeliefwhichmightremainuncontradictedtohisdyingday—wasalmostmorethanhecouldbear.
Thecircumstanceoccasionednoalteration,however,inthebehaviourofhisbenefactors.
Afteranotherfortnight,whenthefinewarmweatherhadfairlybegun,andeverytreeandflowerwasputtingforthitsyoungleavesandrichblossoms,theymadepreparationsforquittingthehouseatChertsey,forsomemonths.
Sendingtheplate,whichhadsoexcitedFagin’scupidity,tothebanker’s;andleavingGilesandanotherservantincareofthehouse,theydepartedtoacottageatsomedistanceinthecountry,andtookOliverwiththem.
Whocandescribethepleasureanddelight,thepeaceofmindandsofttranquillity,thesicklyboyfeltinthebalmyair,andamongthegreenhillsandrichwoods,ofaninlandvillage!
Whocantellhowscenesofpeaceandquietudesinkintothemindsofpain-worndwellersincloseandnoisyplaces,andcarrytheirownfreshness,deepintotheirjadedhearts!
Menwhohavelivedincrowded,pent-upstreets,throughlivesoftoil,andwhohaveneverwishedforchange;men,towhomcustomhasindeedbeensecondnature,andwhohavecomealmosttoloveeachbrickandstonethatformedthenarrowboundariesoftheirdailywalks;eventhey,withthehandofdeathuponthem,havebeenknowntoyearnatlastforoneshortglimpseofNature’sface;and,carriedfarfromthescenesoftheiroldpainsandpleasures,haveseemedtopassatonceintoanewstateofbeing.
Crawlingforth,fromdaytoday,tosomegreensunnyspot,theyhavehadsuchmemorieswakenedupwithinthembythesightofthesky,andhillandplain,andglisteningwater,thataforetasteofheavenitselfhassoothedtheirquickdecline,andtheyhavesunkintotheirtombs,aspeacefullyasthesunwhosesettingtheywatchedfromtheirlonelychamberwindowbutafewhoursbefore,fadedfromtheirdimandfeeblesight!
Thememorieswhichpeacefulcountryscenescallup,arenotofthisworld,norofitsthoughtsandhopes.
Theirgentleinfluencemayteachushowtoweavefreshgarlandsforthegravesofthoseweloved:maypurifyourthoughts,andbeardownbeforeitoldenmityandhatred;butbeneathallthis,therelingers,intheleastreflectivemind,avagueandhalf-formedconsciousnessofhavingheldsuchfeelingslongbefore,insomeremoteanddistanttime,whichcallsupsolemnthoughtsofdistanttimestocome,andbendsdownprideandworldlinessbeneathit.
Itwasalovelyspottowhichtheyrepaired.
Oliver,whosedayshadbeenspentamongsqualidcrowds,andinthemidstofnoiseandbrawling,seemedtoenteronanewexistencethere.
Theroseandhoneysuckleclungtothecottagewalls;theivycreptroundthetrunksofthetrees;andthegarden-flowersperfumedtheairwithdeliciousodours.
Hardby,wasalittlechurchyard;notcrowdedwithtallunsightlygravestones,butfullofhumblemounds,coveredwithfreshturfandmoss:beneathwhich,theoldpeopleofthevillagelayatrest.
Oliveroftenwanderedhere;and,thinkingofthewretchedgraveinwhichhismotherlay,wouldsometimessithimdownandsobunseen;but,whenheraisedhiseyestothedeepskyoverhead,hewouldceasetothinkofheraslyingintheground,andwouldweepforher,sadly,butwithoutpain.
Itwasahappytime.Thedayswerepeacefulandserene;thenightsbroughtwiththemneitherfearnorcare;nolanguishinginawretchedprison,orassociatingwithwretchedmen;nothingbutpleasantandhappythoughts.
Everymorninghewenttoawhite-headedoldgentleman,wholivednearthelittlechurch:whotaughthimtoreadbetter,andtowrite:andwhospokesokindly,andtooksuchpains,thatOlivercouldnevertryenoughtopleasehim.
Then,hewouldwalkwithMrs.MaylieandRose,andhearthemtalkofbooks;orperhapssitnearthem,insomeshadyplace,andlistenwhilsttheyoungladyread:whichhecouldhavedone,untilitgrewtoodarktoseetheletters.
Then,hehadhisownlessonforthenextdaytoprepare;andatthis,hewouldworkhard,inalittleroomwhichlookedintothegarden,tilleveningcameslowlyon,whentheladieswouldwalkoutagain,andhewiththem:listeningwithsuchpleasuretoalltheysaid:andsohappyiftheywantedaflowerthathecouldclimbtoreach,orhadforgottenanythinghecouldruntofetch:thathecouldneverbequickenoughaboutit.
Whenitbecamequitedark,andtheyreturnedhome,theyoungladywouldsitdowntothepiano,andplaysomepleasantair,orsing,inalowandgentlevoice,someoldsongwhichitpleasedheraunttohear.
Therewouldbenocandleslightedatsuchtimesasthese;andOliverwouldsitbyoneofthewindows,listeningtothesweetmusic,inaperfectrapture.
AndwhenSundaycame,howdifferentlythedaywasspent,fromanywayinwhichhehadeverspentityet!
andhowhappilytoo;likealltheotherdaysinthatmosthappytime!
Therewasthelittlechurch,inthemorning,withthegreenleavesflutteringatthewindows:thebirdssingingwithout:andthesweet-smellingairstealinginatthelowporch,andfillingthehomelybuildingwithitsfragrance.
Thepoorpeopleweresoneatandclean,andkneltsoreverentlyinprayer,thatitseemedapleasure,notatediousduty,theirassemblingtheretogether;andthoughthesingingmightberude,itwasreal,andsoundedmoremusical(toOliver’searsatleast)thananyhehadeverheardinchurchbefore.
Then,therewerethewalksasusual,andmanycallsatthecleanhousesofthelabouringmen;andatnight,OliverreadachapterortwofromtheBible,whichhehadbeenstudyingalltheweek,andintheperformanceofwhichdutyhefeltmoreproudandpleased,thanifhehadbeentheclergymanhimself.
Inthemorning,Oliverwouldbea-footbysixo’clock,roamingthefields,andplunderingthehedges,farandwide,fornosegaysofwildflowers,withwhichhewouldreturnladen,home;andwhichittookgreatcareandconsiderationtoarrange,tothebestadvantage,fortheembellishmentofthebreakfast-table.
Therewasfreshgroundsel,too,forMissMaylie’sbirds,withwhichOliver,whohadbeenstudyingthesubjectundertheabletuitionofthevillageclerk,woulddecoratethecages,inthemostapprovedtaste.
Whenthebirdsweremadeallspruceandsmartfortheday,therewasusuallysomelittlecommissionofcharitytoexecuteinthevillage;or,failingthat,therewasrarecricket-playing,sometimes,onthegreen;or,failingthat,therewasalwayssomethingtodointhegarden,orabouttheplants,towhichOliver(whohadstudiedthissciencealso,underthesamemaster,whowasagardenerbytrade,)appliedhimselfwithheartygood-will,untilMissRosemadeherappearance:whentherewereathousandcommendationstobebestowedonallhehaddone.
Sothreemonthsglidedaway;threemonthswhich,inthelifeofthemostblessedandfavouredofmortals,mighthavebeenunmingledhappiness,andwhich,inOliver’sweretruefelicity.
Withthepurestandmostamiablegenerosityononeside;andthetruest,warmest,soul-feltgratitudeontheother;itisnowonderthat,bytheendofthatshorttime,OliverTwisthadbecomecompletelydomesticatedwiththeoldladyandherniece,andthattheferventattachmentofhisyoungandsensitiveheart,wasrepaidbytheirpridein,andattachmentto,himself.
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