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第83章

oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第83章

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

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beside the body when death came over it。” 

“Good;” said Monks; regarding her attentively。 “Go on。” 

“She spoke of a young creature;” resumed the matron; “who 
had brought a child into the world some years before; not merely 
in the same room; but in the same bed; in which she then lay 
dying。” 

‘‘Ay?” said Monks; with quivering lip; and glancing over his 
shoulder。 “Blood! How things come about!” 

“The child was the one you named to him last night;” said the 
matron; nodding carelessly towards her husband; “the mother this 
nurse had robbed。” 

“In life?” asked Monks。 

“In death;” replied the woman; with something like a shudder。 
“She stole from the corpse; when it had hardly turned to one; that 
which the dead mother had prayed her; with her last breath; to 
keep for the infant’s sake。” 

“She sold it?” cried Monks; with desperate eagerness; “did she 
sell it? Where! When? To whom? How long before?” 

“As she told me; with great difficulty; that she had done this;” 
said the matron; “she fell back and died。” 

“Without saying more?” cried Monks; in a voice which; from its 
very suppression; seemed only the more furious。 “It’s a lie! I’ll not 
be played with。 She said more。 I’ll tear the life out of you both; but 
I’ll know what it was。” 

“She didn’t utter another word;” said the woman; to all 
appearance unmoved (as Mr。 Bumble was very far from being) by 
the strange man’s violence; “but she clutched my gown; violently; 
with one hand; which was partly closed; and when I saw that she 
was dead; and so removed the hand by force; I found it clasped a 

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scrap of dirty paper。” 

“Which contained—” interposed Monks; stretching forward。 

“Nothing;” replied the woman; “it was a pawnbroker’s 
duplicate。” 

“For what?” demanded Monks。 

“In good time I’ll tell you;” said the woman。 “I judge that she 
had kept the trinket; for some time; in the hope of turning it to 
better account; and then had pawned it; and had saved or scraped 
together money to pay the pawnbroker’s interest year by year; and 
prevent it running out; so that if anything came of it; it could still 
be redeemed。 Nothing had come of it; and; as I tell you; she died 
with the scrap of paper; all worn and tattered; in her hand。 The 
time was out in two days; I thought something might one day come 
of it too; and so redeemed the pledge。” 

“Where is it now?” asked Monks quickly。 

“There;” replied the woman。 And; as if glad to be relieved of it; 
she hastily threw upon the table a small kid bag scarcely large 
enough for a French watch; which Monks pouncing upon; tore 
open with trembling hands。 It contained a little gold locket; in 
which were two locks of hair; and a plain gold wedding…ring。 

“It has the word ‘Agnes’ engraved on the inside;” said the 
woman。 “There is a blank left for the surname; and then follows 
the date; which is within a year before the child was born。 I found 
out that。” 

“And this is all?” said Monks; after a close and eager scrutiny of 
the contents of the little packet。 

“All;” replied the woman。 

Mr。 Bumble drew a long breath; as if he were glad to find that 
the story was over; and no mention made of taking the five…and…

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twenty pounds back again; and now he took courage to wipe off 
the perspiration which had been trickling over his nose; 
unchecked; during the whole of the previous dialogue。 

“I know nothing of the story; beyond what I can guess at;” said 
his wife; addressing Monks; after a short silence; “and I want to 
know nothing; for it’s safer not。 But I may ask you two questions; 
may I?” 

“You may ask;” said Monks; with some show of surprise; “but 
whether I answer or not is another question。” 

“Which makes three;” observed Mr。 Bumble; essaying a stroke 
of facetiousness。 

“Is that what you expected to get from me?” demanded the 
matron “It is;” replied Monks。 “The other question?” 

“What do you propose to do with it? Can it be used against 
me?” 

“Never;” rejoined Monks; “nor against me either。 See here! But 
don’t move a step forward; or your life is not worth a bulrush。” 

With these words; he suddenly wheeled the table aside; and 
pulling an iron ring in the boarding; threw back a large trapdoor 
which opened close at Mr。 Bumble’s feet; and caused that 
gentleman to retire several paces backward; with great 
precipitation。 

“Look down;” said Monks; lowering the lantern into the gulf。 
“Don’t fear me。 I could have let you down; quietly enough; when 
you were seated over it; if that had been my game。” 

Thus encouraged; the matron drew near to the brink; and even 
Mr。 Bumble himself; impelled by curiosity; ventured to do the 
same。 The turbid water; swollen by the heavy rain; was rushing 
rapidly on below; and all other sounds were lost in the noise of its 

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plashing and eddying against the green and slimy piles。 There had 
once been a water…mill beneath; the tide foaming and chafing 
round the few rotten stakes; and fragments of machinery that yet 
remained; seemed to dart onward; with a new impulse; when freed 
from the obstacles which had unavailingly attempted to stem its 
headlong course。 

“If you flung a man’s body down there; where would it be by 
tomorrow morning?” said Monks; swinging the lantern to and fro 
in the dark well。 

“Twelve miles down the river; and cut to pieces besides;” 
replied Bumble; recoiling at the thought。 

Monks drew the little packet from his breast; where he had 
hurriedly thrust it; and tying it to a leaden weight; which had 
formed a part of some pulley; and was lying on the floor; dropped 
it into the stream。 It fell straight; and true as a die; clove the water 
with a scarcely audible splash; and was gone。 

The three; looking into each other’s faces; seemed to breathe 
more freely。 

“There!” said Monks; closing the trap…door; which fell heavily 
back into its former position。 “If the sea ever gives up its dead; as 
books say it will; it will keep its gold and silver to itself; and that 
trash among it。 We have nothing more to say; and may break up 
our pleasant party。” 

“By all means;” observed Mr。 Bumble; with great alacrity。 

“You’ll keep a quiet tongue in your head; will you?” said 
Monks; with a threatening look。 “I am not afraid of your wife。” 

“You may depend upon me; young man;” answered Mr。 
Bumble; bowing himself gradually towards the ladder; with 
excessive politeness。 “On everybody’s account; young man; on my 

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own; you know; Mr。 Monks。” 

“I am glad; for your sake; to hear it;” remarked Monks。 “Light 
your lantern! And get away from here as fast as you can。” 

It was fortunate that the conversation terminated at this point; 
or Mr。 Bumble; who had bowed himself to within six inches of the 
ladder; would infallibly have pitched headlong into the room 
below。 He lighted his lantern from that which Monks had 
detached the rope; and now carried in his hand; and; making no 
effort to prolong the discourse; descended in silence; followed by 
his wife。 Monks brought up the rear; after pausing on the steps to 
satisfy himself that there were no other sounds to be heard than 
the beating of the rain without; and the rushing of the water。 

They traversed the lower room; slowly; and with caution; for 
Monks started at every shadow; and Mr。 Bumble; holding his 
lantern a foot above the ground; walked not only with remarkable 
care; but with a marvellously light step for a gentleman of his 
figure; looking nervously about him for hidden trap…doors。 The 
gate at which they had entered; was softly unfastened and opened 
by Monks; and; merely exchanging a nod with their mysterious 
acquaintance; the married couple emerged into the wet and 
darkness outside。 

They were no sooner gone; than Monks; who appeared to 
entertain

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