Oliver Twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-35

Esquire, at some great lord’s house in the country; where, he couldnot make out.“Shall it go, ma’am?” asked Oliver, looking up impatiently.“I think not,” replied Mrs. Maylie, taking it back. “I will waituntil tomorrow.”With these words, she gave Oliver her purse, and he started off,without more delay, at the greatest speed he could muster.Swiftly he ran across the fields, and down the little lanes whichsometimes divided them; now almost hidden by the high corn oneither side, and now emerging on an open field, where the mowersand hay-makers were busy at their work; nor did he stop once,save now and then, for a few seconds, to recover breath, until hecame, in a great heat, and covered with dust, on the little marketplace of the market-town.Here he paused, and looked about for the inn. There were awhite bank, and a red brewery, and a yellow town-hall; and in onecorner there was a large house, with all the wood about it paintedgreen, before which was the sign of “The George”. To this hehastened, as soon as it caught his eye.He spoke to a postboy, who was dozing under the gateway;and—who, after hearing what he wanted, referred him to thehostler; who, after hearing all he had to say again, referred him tothe landlord; who was a tall gentleman in a blue neckcloth, a whitehat, drab breeches, and boots with tops to match, leaning against apump by the stable door, picking his teeth with a silver toothpick.This gentleman walked with much deliberation into the bar tomake out the bill, which took a long time making out; and after itwas ready, and paid, a horse had to be saddled, and a man to bedressed, which took up ten good minutes more. Meanwhile OliverCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 347was in such a desperate state of impatience and anxiety, that hefelt as if he could have jumped upon the horse himself, andgalloped away, full tear, to the next stage. At length, all was ready;and the little parcel having been handed up, with manyinjunctions and entreaties for its speedy delivery, the man setspurs to his horse, and rattling over the uneven paving of themarket-place, was out of the town, and galloping along theturnpike-road, in a couple of minutes.As it was something to feel certain that assistance was sent for,and that no time had been lost, Oliver hurried up the inn-yard,with a somewhat lighter heart. He was turning out of the gatewaywhen he accidentally stumbled against a tall man wrapped in acloak, who was at that moment coming out of the inn door.“Hah!” cried the man, fixing his eyes on Oliver, and suddenlyrecoiling. “What the devil’s this?”“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Oliver; “I was in a great hurry toget home, and didn’t see you were coming.”“Death!” muttered the man to himself, glaring at the boy withhis large dark eyes. “Who would have thought it? Grind him toashes! He’d start up from a stone coffin, to come in my way!”“I am sorry,” stammered Oliver, confused by the strange man’swild look. “I hope I have not hurt you!”“Rot you!” murmured the man, in a horrible passion, betweenhis clenched teeth; “if I had only the courage to say the word, Imight have been free of you in a night. Curses on your head, andblack death on your heart, you imp! What are you doing here?”The man shook his fist, as he uttered these words incoherently.He advanced towards Oliver, as if with the intention of aiming ablow at him, but fell violently on the ground, writhing and foamingCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 348in a fit.Oliver gazed, for a moment, at the struggle of the madman (forsuch he supposed him to be); and then darted into the house forhelp. Having seen him safely carried into the hotel, he turned hisface homewards, running as fast as he could, to make up for losttime, and recalling with a great deal of astonishment and somefear, the extraordinary behaviour of the person from whom he hadjust parted.The circumstance did not dwell in his recollection long,however: for when he reached the cottage, there was enough tooccupy his mind, and to drive all considerations of self-complacency from his memory.Rose Maylie had rapidly grown worse; before midnight she wasdelirious. A medical practitioner, who resided on the spot, was inconstant attendance upon her; and after first seeing the patient, hehad taken Mrs. Maylie aside, and pronounced her disorder to beone of a most alarming nature. “In fact,” he said, “it would be littleshort of a miracle, if she recovered.”How often did Oliver start from his bed that night, and stealingout, with noiseless footsteps, to the staircase, listen for theslightest sound from the sick chamber! How often did a trembleshake his frame, and cold drops of terror start upon his brow,when a sudden tramping of feet caused him to fear that somethingtoo dreadful to think of, had even then occurred! And what hadbeen the fervency of all the prayers he had ever uttered, comparedwith those he poured forth, now, in the agony and passion of hissupplication for the life and health of the gentle creature, who wastottering on the deep grave’s verge!Oh! the suspense, the fearful, acute suspense, of standing idlyCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 349by while the life of one we dearly love, is trembling in the balance!Oh! the racking thoughts that crowd upon the mind, and make theheart beat violently and, the breath come thick, by the force of theimages they conjure up before it; the desperate anxiety to be doingsomething to relieve the pain, or lessen the danger, which we haveno power to alleviate; the sinking of soul and spirit, which the sadremembrance of our helplessness produces; what tortures canequal these; what reflections or endeavours can, in the full tideand fever of the time, allay them!Morning came; and the little cottage was lonely and still. Peoplespoke in whispers; anxious faces appeared at the gate, from timeto time; women and children went away in tears. All the livelongday, and for hours after it had grown dark, Oliver paced softly upand down the garden, raising his eyes every instant to the sickchamber, and shuddering to see the darkened window, looking asif death lay stretched inside. Late at night, Mr. Losberne arrived.“It is hard,” said the good doctor, turning away as he spoke; “soyoung; so much beloved; but there is very little hope.”Another morning. The sun shone brightly—as brightly as if itlooked upon no misery or care; and, with every leaf and flower infull bloom about her, with life, and—health, and sounds and sightsof joys surrounding her on every side, the fair young creature lay,wasting fast. Oliver crept away to the old churchyard, and sittingdown on one of the green mounds, wept and prayed for her, insilence.There was such peace and beauty in the scene; so much ofbrightness and mirth in the sunny landscape; such blithsomemusic in the songs of the summer birds; such freedom in the rapidflight of the rook, careering overhead; so much of life andCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 350joyousness, in all; that, when the boy raised his aching eyes, andlooked about, the thought instinctively occurred to him, that thiswas not a time for death; that Rose could surely never die whenhumbler things were all so glad and gay; that graves were for coldand cheerless winter, not for sunlight and fragrance. He almostthought that shrouds were for the old and shrunken; and that theynever wrapped the young and graceful form in their ghastly folds.A knell from the church bell broke harshly on these youthfulthoughts. Another! Again! It was tolling for the funeral service. Agroup of humble mourners entered the gate, wearing whitefavours; for the corpse was young. They stood uncovered by agrave; and there was a mother—a mother once—among theweeping train. But the sun shone brightly, and the birds sang on.Oliver turned homeward, thinking on the many kindnesses hehad received from the young lady, and wishing that the time couldcome over again, that he might never cease showing her howgrateful and attached he was. He had no cause for self-reproach onthe score of neglect, or want of thought, for he had been devoted toher service; and yet a hundred little occasions rose up before him,on which he fancied he might have been more zealous, and moreearnest, and wished he had been. We need be careful how we dealwith those about us, when every death carries to some small circleof survivors, thoughts of so much omitted, and so little done—of somany things forgotten, and so many more which might have beenrepaired! There is no remorse so deep as that which is unavailing;if we would be spared its tortures, let us remember this, in time.When he reached home, Mrs. Maylie was sitting in the littleparlour. Oliver’s heart sank at sight of her; for she had never leftthe bedside of her niece; and he trembled to think what changeCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 351could have driven her away. He learned that she had fallen into adeep sleep, from which she would waken, either to recovery andlife, or to bid them farewell, and die.They sat, listening, and afraid to speak, for hours. The untastedmeal was removed; and with looks which showed that theirthoughts were elsewhere, they watched the sun as he sank lowerand lower, and, at length, cast over sky and earth those brillianthues which herald his departure. Their quick ears caught thesound of an approaching footstep. They both involuntarily dartedto the door, as Mr. Losberne entered.“What of Rose?” cried the old lady. “Tell me at once! I can bearit; anything but suspense! Oh, tell me! in the name of Heaven!”“You must compose yourself,” said the doctor, supporting her.“Be calm, my dear ma’am, pray.”“Let me go, in God’s name! My dear child! She is dead! She isdying!”“No!” cried the doctor passionately. “As He is good andmerciful, she will live to bless us all, for years to come.”The lady fell upon her knees, and tried to fold her handstogether; but the energy which had supported her so long, fled upto Heaven with her first thanksgiving; and she sank into thefriendly arms which were extended to receive her.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 352Chapter 34Contains Some Introductory Particulars Relative ToA Young Gentleman Who Now Arrives Upon TheScene; And A New Adventure Which Happened ToOliver.It was almost too much happiness to bear. Oliver felt stunnedand stupefied by the unexpected intelligence; he could notweep, or speak, or rest. He had scarcely the power ofunderstanding anything that had passed, until, after a long ramblein the quiet evening air, a burst of tears came to his relief, and heseemed to awaken all at once, to a full sense of the joyful changethat had occurred, and the almost insupportable load of anguishwhich had been taken from his breast.The night was fast closing in, when he returned homeward,laden with flowers which he had culled, with peculiar care, for theadornment of the sick chamber. As he walked briskly along theroad he heard behind him, the noise of some vehicle, approachingat a furious pace. Looking round, he saw that it was a post-chaise,driven at great speed; and as the horses were galloping, and theroad was narrow, he stood leaning against a gate until it shouldhave passed him.As it dashed on, Oliver caught a glimpse of a man, in a whitenight-cap, whose face seemed familiar to him, although his viewwas so brief that he could not identify the person. In anothersecond or two, the night-cap was thrust out of the chaise window,and a stentorian voice bellowed to the driver to stop; which he did,Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 353as soon as he could pull up his horses. Then, the night-cap onceagain appeared, and the same voice called Oliver by his name.“Here!” cried the voice. “Oliver, what’s the news? Miss Rose!Master O-li-ver!”“Is it you, Giles?” cried Oliver, running up to the chaise door.Giles popped out his night-cap again, preparatory to makingsome reply, when he was suddenly pulled back by a younggentleman who occupied the other corner of the chaise, and whoeagerly demanded what was the news. “In a word!” cried thegentleman, “better or worse?”“Better—much better!” replied Oliver hastily.“Thank Heaven!” exclaimed the gentleman. “You are sure?”“Quite, sir,” replied Oliver. “The change took place—only a fewhours ago; and Mr. Losberne says that all danger is at an end.”The gentleman did not say another word, but, opening thechaise door, leaped out, and taking Oliver hurriedly by the arm,led him aside.“You are quite certain? There is no possibility of any mistakeon your part, my boy, is there?” demanded the gentleman in atremulous voice. “Do not deceive me, by awakening hopes that arenot to be fulfilled.”“I would not for the world, sir,” replied Oliver. “Indeed you maybelieve me. Mr. Losberne’s words were, that she would live tobless us all for many years to come. I heard him say so.”The tears stood in Oliver’s eyes as he recalled the scene whichwas the beginning of so much happiness; and the gentlemanturned his face away, and remained silent, for some minutes.Oliver thought he heard him sob, more than once; but he feared tointerrupt him by any fresh remark—for he could well guess whatCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 354his feelings were—and so stood apart, feigning to be occupied withhis nosegay.All this time, Mr. Giles, with the white night-cap on, had beensitting on the steps of the chaise, supporting an elbow on eachknee, and wiping his eyes with a blue cotton pocket-handkerchiefdotted with white spots. That the honest fellow had not beenfeigning emotion, was abundantly demonstrated by the very redeyes with which he regarded the young gentleman, when heturned round and addressed him.“I think you had better go on to my mother’s in the chaise,Giles,” said he. “I would rather walk slowly on, so as to gain a littletime before I see her. You can say I am coming.”“I beg your pardon, Mr. Harry,” said Giles, giving a final polishto his ruffled countenance with the handkerchief; “but if youwould leave the postboy to say that, I should be very much obligedto you. It wouldn’t be proper for the maids to see me in this state,sir; I should never have any more authority with them if they did.”“Well,” rejoined Harry Maylie, smiling, “you can do as you like.Let him go on with the luggage, if you wish it, and do you followwith us. Only first exchange that night-cap for some moreappropriate covering, or we shall be taken for madmen.”Mr. Giles, reminded of his unbecoming costume, snatched offand pocketed his night-cap; and substituted a hat, of grave andsober shape, which he took out of the chaise. This done, thepostboy drove off; Giles, Mr. Maylie, and Oliver, followed at theirleisure.As they walked along, Oliver glanced from time to time withmuch interest and curiosity at the newcomer. He seemed aboutfive-and-twenty years of age, and was of the middle height; hisCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 355countenance was frank and handsome; and his demeanour easyand prepossessing. Notwithstanding the difference between youthand age, he bore so strong a likeness to the old lady, that Oliverwould have had no great difficulty in imagining their relationship,if he had not already spoken of her as his mother.Mrs. Maylie was anxiously waiting to receive her son when hereached the cottage. The meeting did not take place without greatemotion on both sides.“Mother!” whispered the young man; “why did you not writebefore?”“I did,” replied Mrs. Maylie; “but, on reflection, I determined tokeep back the letter until I had heard Mr. Losberne’s opinion.”“But why,” said the young man—“why run the chance of thatoccurring which so nearly happened? If Rose had—I cannot utterthat word now—if this illness had terminated differently, howcould you ever have forgiven yourself! How could I ever haveknown happiness again!”“If that had been the case, Harry,” said Mrs. Maylie, “I fear yourhappiness would have been effectually blighted, and that yourarrival here, a day sooner, or a day later, would have been of very,very little import.”“And who can wonder if it be so, mother?” rejoined the youngman; “or why should I say, if?—It is—it is—You know it, mother—you must know it!”“I know that she deserves the best and purest love the heart ofman can offer,” said Mrs. Maylie; “I know that the devotion andaffection of her nature require no ordinary return, but one thatshall be deep and lasting. If I did not feel this, and know, besides,that a changed behaviour in one she loved would break her heart,Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 356