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第118章

oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第118章

小说: oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪)) 字数: 每页4000字

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into the open yard。 There was nobody there to speak to him; but; 
as he passed; the prisoners fell back to render him more visible to 
the people who were clinging to the bars; and they assailed him 
with opprobrious names; and screeched and hissed。 He shook his 
fist; and would have spat upon them; but his conductors hurried 
him on; through a gloomy passage lighted by a few dim lamps; into 
the interior of the prison。 

Here he was searched; that he might not have about him the 
means of anticipating the law; this ceremony performed; they led 
him to one of the condemned cells; and left him there—alone。 

He sat down on a stone bench opposite the door; which served 
for seat and bedstead; and casting his bloodshot eyes upon the 
ground; tried to collect his thoughts。 After a while; he began to 
remember a few disjointed fragments of what the judge had said; 
though it had seemed to him; at the time; that he could not hear a 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 571 

word。 These gradually fell into their proper places; and by degrees 
suggested more; so that in a little time he had the whole; almost as 
it was delivered。 To be hanged by the neck; till he was dead—that 
was the end。 To be hanged by the neck—till he was dead。 

As it came on very dark; he began to think of all the men he had 
known who had died upon the scaffold; some of them through his 
means。 They rose up; in such quick succession; that he could 
hardly count them。 He had seen some of them die—and had joked 
too; because they died with prayers upon their lips。 With what a 
rattling noise; the drop went down; and how suddenly they 
changed; from strong vigorous men to dangling heaps of clothes! 

Some of them might have inhabited that very cell—sat upon 
that very spot。 It was very dark; why didn’t they bring a light? The 
cell had been built for many years。 Scores of men must have 
passed their last hours there。 It was like sitting in a vault strewn 
with dead bodies—the cap; the noose; the pinioned arms; the faces 
that he knew; even beneath that hideous veil。—Light; light! 

At length; when his hands were raw with beating against the 
heavy door and walls; two men appeared; one bearing a candle; 
which he thrust into an iron candlestick fixed against the wall; the 
other dragging in a mattress on which to pass the night; for the 
prisoner was to be left alone no more。 

Then came night—dark; dismal; silent night。 Other watchers 
are glad to hear this church clock strike; for they tell of life and 
coming day。 To him they brought despair。 The boom of every iron 
bell came laden with the one; deep; hollow sound—Death。 What 
availed the noise and bustle of cheerful morning; which 
penetrated even there; to him? It was another form of knell; with 
mockery added to the warning。 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 572 

The day passed off—day! There was no day; it was gone as soon 
as come—and night came on again; night so long; and yet so short; 
long in its dreadful silence; and short in its fleeting hours。 At one 
time he raved and blasphemed; and at another howled and tore 
his hair。 Venerable men of his own persuasion had come to pray 
beside him; but he had driven them away with curses。 They 
renewed their charitable efforts and he beat them o£ Saturday 
night。 He had only one night more to live。 And as he thought of 
this; the day broke—Sunday。 

It was not until the night of this last awful day; that a withering 
sense of his helpless; desperate state came in its full intensity upon 
his blighted soul; not that he had ever held any defined or positive 
hope of mercy; but that he had never been able to consider more 
than the dim probability of dying so soon。 He had spoken little to 
either of the two men; who relieved each other in their attendance 
upon him; and they; for their parts; made no effort to rouse his 
attention。 He had sat there; awake; but dreaming。 Now; he started 
up; every minute; and with gasping mouth and burning skin; 
hurried to and fro; in such a paroxysm of fear and wrath that even 
they—used to such sights—recoiled from him with horror。 He 
grew so terrible; at last; in all the tortures of his evil conscience; 
that one man could not bear to sit there; eyeing him alone; and so 
the two kept watch together。 

He cowered down upon his stone bed; and thought of the past。 
He had been wounded with some missiles from the crowd on the 
day of his capture; and his head was bandaged with a linen cloth。 
His red hair hung down upon his bloodless face; his beard was 
torn; and twisted into knots; his eyes shone with a terrible light; 
his unwashed flesh crackled with the fever that burned him up。 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 573 

Eight—nine—ten。 If it was not a trick to frighten him; and those 
were the real hours treading on each other’s heels; where would 
he be; when they came round again! Eleven。 Another struck; 
before the voice of the previous hour had ceased to vibrate。 At 
eight; he would be the only mourner in his own funeral train; at 
eleven— 

Those dreadful walls of Newgate; which have hidden so much 
misery and such unspeakable anguish; not only from the eyes; but; 
too often; and too long; from the thoughts; of men; never held so 
dread a spectacle as that。 The few who lingered as they passed; 
and wondered what the man was doing who was to be hanged 
tomorrow; would have slept but ill that night; if they could have 
seen him。 

From early in the evening until nearly midnight; little groups of 
two and three presented themselves at the lodge gate; and 
inquired; with anxious faces; whether any reprieve had been 
received。 These being answered in the negative; communicated 
the welcome intelligence to clusters in the street who pointed out 
to one another the door from which he must come out; and 
showed where the scaffold would be built; and walking with 
unwilling steps away; turned back to conjure up the scene。 By 
degrees they fell off; one by one; and; for an hour; in the dead of 
night; the street was left to solitude and darkness。 

The space before the prison was cleared; and a few strong 
barriers; painted black; had been already thrown across the road 
to break the pressure of the expected crowd; when Mr。 Brownlow 
and Oliver appeared at the wicket; and presented an order of 
admission to the prisoner; signed by one of the sheriffs。 They were 
immediately admitted to the lodge。 

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Oliver Twist 574 

“Is the young gentleman to come too; sir?” said the man whose 
duty it was to conduct them。 “It’s not a sight for children; sir。” 

“It is not indeed; my friend;” rejoined Mr。 Brownlow; “but my 
business with this man is intimately connected with him; and as 
the child has seen him in the full career of his success and villainy; 
I think it as well—even at the cost of some pain and fear—that he 
should see him now。” 

These few words had been said apart; so as to be inaudible to 
Oliver。 The man touched his hat; and; glancing at Oliver with 
some curiosity; opened another gate; opposite to that by which 
they had entered; and led them on; through dark and winding 
ways; towards the cells。 

“This;” said the man; stopping in a gloomy passage where a 
couple of workmen were making some preparations in profound 
silence—“this is the place he passes through。 If you step this way; 
you can see the door he goes out at。” 

He led them into a stone kitchen; fitted with coppers for 
dressing the prison food; and pointed to a door。 There was an open 
grating above it; through which came the sound of men’s voices; 
mingled with the noise of hammering; and the throwing down of 
boards。 They were putting up the scaffold。 

From this place; they passed through several strong gates; 
opened by other turnkeys—from the inner side; and; having 
entered an open yard; ascended a flight of narrow steps; and came 
into a passage with a row of strong doors on the left hand。 
Motioning them to remain where they were; the turnkey knocked 
at one of these with

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