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oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第12章

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

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the gentleman in the white waistcoat had made a very strong 
impression; thought that now the undertaker had got Oliver upon 
trial; the subject was better avoided; until such time as he should 
be firmly bound for seven years; and all danger of his being 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 

returned upon the hands of the parish should be thus effectually 
and legally overcome。 

“Well;” said Mr。 Sowerberry; taking up his hat; “the sooner this 
job is done; the better。 Noah; look after the shop。 Oliver; put on 
your cap; and come with me。” 

Oliver obeyed; and followed his master on his professional 
mission。 

They walked on; for some time; through the most crowded and 
densely inhabited part of the town; and then; striking down a 
narrow street more dirty and miserable than any they had yet 
passed through; paused to look for the house which was the object 
of their search。 The houses on either side were high and large; but 
very old; and tenanted by people of the poorest class: as their 
neglected appearance would have sufficiently denoted; without 
the concurrent testimony afforded by the squalid looks of the few 
men and women who; with folded arms and bodies half…doubled; 
occasionally skulked along。 A great many of the tenements had 
shop…fronts; but these were fast closed; and mouldering away; only 
the upper rooms being inhabited。 Some houses which had become 
insecure from age and decay; were prevented from falling into the 
street by huge beams of wood reared against the walls; and firmly 
planted in the road; but even these crazy dens seemed to have 
been selected as the nightly haunts of some houseless wretches; 
for many of the rough boards; which supplied the place of door 
and window; were wrenched from their positions; to afford an 
aperture wide enough for the passage of a human body。 The 
kennel was stagnant and filthy。 The very rats; which here and 
there lay putrefying in its rottenness; were hideous with famine。 

There was neither knocker nor bell…handle at the open door 

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Oliver Twist 

where Oliver and his master stopped; so; groping his way 
cautiously through the dark passage; and bidding Oliver keep 
close to him and not be afraid; the undertaker mounted to the top 
of the first flight of stairs。 Stumbling against a door on the landing; 
he rapped at it with his knuckles。 

It was opened by a young girl of thirteen or fourteen。 The 
undertaker at once saw enough of what the room contained; to 
know it was the apartment to which he had been directed。 He 
stepped in; Oliver followed him。 

There was no fire in the room; but a man was crouching 
mechanically over the empty stove。 An old woman; too; had drawn 
a low stool to the cold hearth; and was sitting beside him。 There 
were some ragged children in another corner; and in a small 
recess; opposite the door; there lay upon the ground; something 
covered with an old blanket。 Oliver shuddered as he cast his eyes 
towards the place; and crept involuntary closer to his master; for 
though it was covered up; the boy felt that it was a corpse。 

The man’s face was thin and very pale; his hair and beard were 
grizzly; his eyes were bloodshot。 The old woman’s face was 
wrinkled; her two remaining teeth protruded over her under lip; 
and her eyes were bright and piercing。 Oliver was afraid to look at 
either her or the man。 They seemed so like the rats he had seen 
outside。 

“Nobody shall go near her;” said the man; starting fiercely up; 
as the undertaker approached the recess。 “Keep back! Damn you; 
keep back; if you’ve a life to lose!” 

“Nonsense; my good man;” said the undertaker; who was pretty 
well used to misery in all its shapes。 “Nonsense!” 

“I tell you;” said the man; clenching his hands; and stamping 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 

furiously on the floor—“I tell you I won’t have her put into the 
ground。 She couldn’t rest there。 The worms would worry her—not 
eat her—she is so worn away。” 

The undertaker offered no reply to this raving; but; producing a 
tape from his pocket; knelt down for a moment by the side of the 
body。 

“Ah!” said the man; bursting into tears; and sinking on his 
knees at the feet of the dead woman; “kneel down; kneel down— 
kneel round her; every one of you; and mark my words! I say she 
was starved to death。 I never knew how bad she was; till the fever 
came upon her; and then her bones were starting through the 
skin。 There was neither fire nor candle; she died in the dark—in 
the dark! She couldn’t even see her children’s faces; though we 
heard her gasping out their names。 I begged for her in the streets; 
and they sent me to prison。 When I came back; she was dying; and 
all the blood in my heart has dried up; for they starved her to 
death。 I swear it before the God that saw it! They starved her!” He 
twined his hands in his hair; and; with a loud scream; rolled 
grovelling upon the floor; his eyes fixed and the foam covering his 
lips。 

The terrified children cried bitterly; but the old woman; who 
had hitherto remained as quiet as if she had been wholly deaf to 
all that passed; menaced them into silence。 Having unloosed the 
cravat of the man who still remained extended on the ground; she 
tottered towards the undertaker。 

“She was my daughter;” said the old woman; nodding her head 
in the direction of the corpse; and speaking with an idiotic leer; 
more ghastly than even the presence of death in such a place。 
“Lord; Lord! Well; it is strange that I who gave birth to her; and 

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Oliver Twist 

was a woman then; should be alive and merry now; and she lying 
there; so cold and stiff! Lord; Lord!—to think of it; it’s as good as a 
play—as good as a play!” 

As the wretched creature mumbled and chuckled in her 
hideous merriment; the undertaker turned to go away。 

“Stop; stop!” said the old woman; in a loud whisper。 “Will she 
be buried tomorrow; or next day; or tonight? I laid her out; and I 
must walk; you know。 Send me a large cloak—a good warm one; 
for it is bitter cold。 We should have cake and wine; too; before we 
go! Never mind; send some bread—only a loaf of bread and a cup 
of water。 Shall we have some bread; dear?” she said eagerly; 
catching at the undertaker’s coat; as he once more moved towards 
the door。 

“Yes; yes;” said the undertaker; “of course。 Anything you like!” 
he disengaged himself from the old woman’s grasp; and; drawing 
Oliver after him; hurried away。 

The next day (the family having been meanwhile relieved with 
a half…quartern loaf and a piece of cheese; left with them by Mr。 
Bumble himself); Oliver and his master returned to the miserable 
abode; where Mr。 Bumble had already arrived; accompanied by 
four men from the workhouse; who were to act as bearers。 An old 
black cloak had been thrown over the rags of the old woman and 
the man; and the bare coffin having been screwed down; was 
hoisted on the shoulders of the bearers; and carried into the street。 

“Now; you must put your best leg foremost; old lady!” 
whispered Sowerberry in the old woman’s ear; “we are rather late; 
and it won’t do to keep the clergyman waiting。 Move on; my men— 
as quick as you like!” 

Thus directed; the bearers trotted on under their light burden; 

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics 


Oliver Twist 

and the two mourners kept as near them as they could。 Mr。 
Bumble and Sowerberry walked at a good smart pace in front; and 
Oliver; whose legs were not so long as his master’s; ran by the side。 

There was not so great a necessity for hurrying as Mr。 
Sowerberry had anticipated; however; for when they reached the 
obscure corner of the churchyard in which the nettles grew; and 
where the parish graves were made; the clergyman had not 
arrived; and the clerk; who was sitting by the vestry…room fire; 
seemed to think it by no means improbable that it might be an 
hour or so before he came。 So; they put the bier on the brink of the 
grave; and the two mourners wa

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