CHAPTER XXVIII

LOOKS AFTER OLIVER, AND PROCEEDS WITH HIS ADVENTURES

'Wolves tear your throats!' muttered Sikes, grinding his teeth.

'I wish I was among some of you; you'd howl the hoarser for it.'

As Sikes growled forth this imprecation, with the most desperate

ferocity that his desperate nature was capable of, he rested the

body of the wounded boy across his bended knee; and turned his

head, for an instant, to look back at his pursuers.

There was little to be made out, in the mist and darkness; but

the loud shouting of men vibrated through the air, and the

barking of the neighbouring dogs, roused by the sound of the

alarm bell, resounded in every direction.

'Stop, you white-livered hound!' cried the robber, shouting after

Toby Crackit, who, making the best use of his long legs, was

already ahead. 'Stop!'

The repetition of the word, brought Toby to a dead stand-still.

For he was not quite satisfied that he was beyond the range of

pistol-shot; and Sikes was in no mood to be played with.

'Bear a hand with the boy,' cried Sikes, beckoning furiously to

his confederate. 'Come back!'

Toby made a show of returning; but ventured, in a low voice,

broken for want of breath, to intimate considerable reluctance as

he came slowly along.

'Quicker!' cried Sikes, laying the boy in a dry ditch at his

feet, and drawing a pistol from his pocket. 'Don't play booty

with me.'

At this moment the noise grew louder. Sikes, again looking

round, could discern that the men who had given chase were

already climbing the gate of the field in which he stood; and

that a couple of dogs were some paces in advance of them.

'It's all up, Bill!' cried Toby; 'drop the kid, and show 'em your

heels.' With this parting advice, Mr. Crackit, preferring the

chance of being shot by his friend, to the certainty of being

taken by his enemies, fairly turned tail, and darted off at full

speed. Sikes clenched his teeth; took one look around; threw

over the prostrate form of Oliver, the cape in which he had been

hurriedly muffled; ran along the front of the hedge, as if to

distract the attention of those behind, from the spot where the

boy lay; paused, for a second, before another hedge which met it

at right angles; and whirling his pistol high into the air,

cleared it at a bound, and was gone.

'Ho, ho, there!' cried a tremulous voice in the rear. 'Pincher!

Neptune! Come here, come here!'

The dogs, who, in common with their masters, seemed to have no

particular relish for the sport in which they were engaged,

readily answered to the command. Three men, who had by this time

advanced some distance into the field, stopped to take counsel

together.

'My advice, or, leastways, I should say, my ORDERS, is,' said the

fattest man of the party, 'that we 'mediately go home again.'

'I am agreeable to anything which is agreeable to Mr. Giles,'

said a shorter man; who was by no means of a slim figure, and who

was very pale in the face, and very polite: as frightened men

frequently are.

'I shouldn't wish to appear ill-mannered, gentlemen,' said the

third, who had called the dogs back, 'Mr. Giles ought to know.'

'Certainly,' replied the shorter man; 'and whatever Mr. Giles

says, it isn't our place to contradict him. No, no, I know my

sitiwation! Thank my stars, I know my sitiwation.' To tell the

truth, the little man DID seem to know his situation, and to know

perfectly well that it was by no means a desirable one; for his

teeth chattered in his head as he spoke.

'You are afraid, Brittles,' said Mr. Giles.

'I an't,' said Brittles.

'You are,' said Giles.

'You're a falsehood, Mr. Giles,' said Brittles.

'You're a lie, Brittles,' said Mr. Giles.

Now, these four retorts arose from Mr. Giles's taunt; and Mr.

Giles's taunt had arisen from his indignation at having the

responsibility of going home again, imposed upon himself under

cover of a compliment. The third man brought the dispute to a

close, most philosophically.

'I'll tell you what it is, gentlemen,' said he, 'we're all

afraid.'

'Speak for yourself, sir,' said Mr. Giles, who was the palest of

the party.

'So I do,' replied the man. 'It's natural and proper to be

afraid, under such circumstances. I am.'

'So am I,' said Brittles; 'only there's no call to tell a man he

is, so bounceably.'

These frank admissions softened Mr. Giles, who at once owned that

HE was afraid; upon which, they all three faced about, and ran

back again with the completest unanimity, until Mr. Giles (who

had the shortest wind of the party, as was encumbered with a

pitchfork) most handsomely insisted on stopping, to make an

apology for his hastiness of speech.

'But it's wonderful,' said Mr. Giles, when he had explained,

'what a man will do, when his blood is up. I should have

committed murder--I know I should--if we'd caught one of them

rascals.'

As the other two were impressed with a similar presentiment; and

as their blood, like his, had all gone down again; some

speculation ensued upon the cause of this sudden change in their

temperament.

'I know what it was,' said Mr. Giles; 'it was the gate.'

'I shouldn't wonder if it was,' exclaimed Brittles, catching at

the idea.

'You may depend upon it,' said Giles, 'that that gate stopped the

flow of the excitement. I felt all mine suddenly going away, as

I was climbing over it.'

By a remarkable coincidence, the other two had been visited with

the same unpleasant sensation at that precise moment. It was

quite obvious, therefore, that it was the gate; especially as

there was no doubt regarding the time at which the change had

taken place, because all three remembered that they had come in

sight of the robbers at the instant of its occurance.

This dialogue was held between the two men who had surprised the

burglars, and a travelling tinker who had been sleeping in an

outhouse, and who had been roused, together with his two mongrel

curs, to join in the pursuit. Mr. Giles acted in the double

capacity of butler and steward to the old lady of the mansion;

Brittles was a lad of all-work: who, having entered her service a

mere child, was treated as a promising young boy still, though he

was something past thirty.

Encouraging each other with such converse as this; but, keeping

very close together, notwithstanding, and looking apprehensively

round, whenever a fresh gust rattled through the boughs; the

three men hurried back to a tree, behind which they had left

their lantern, lest its light should inform the thieves in what

direction to fire. Catching up the light, they made the best of

their way home, at a good round trot; and long after their dusky

forms had ceased to be discernible, the light might have been

seen twinkling and dancing in the distance, like some exhalation

of the damp and gloomy atmosphere through which it was swiftly

borne.

The air grew colder, as day came slowly on; and the mist rolled

along the ground like a dense cloud of smoke. The grass was wet;

the pathways, and low places, were all mire and water; the damp

breath of an unwholesome wind went languidly by, with a hollow

moaning. Still, Oliver lay motionless and insensible on the spot

where Sikes had left him.

Morning drew on apace. The air become more sharp and piercing,

as its first dull hue--the death of night, rather than the birth

of day--glimmered faintly in the sky. The objects which had

looked dim and terrible in the darkness, grew more and more

defined, and gradually resolved into their familiar shapes. The

rain came down, thick and fast, and pattered noisily among the

leafless bushes. But, Oliver felt it not, as it beat against

him; for he still lay stretched, helpless and unconscious, on his

bed of clay.

At length, a low cry of pain broke the stillness that prevailed;

and uttering it, the boy awoke. His left arm, rudelybandaged in

a shawl, hung heavy and useless at his side; the bandage was

saturated with blood. He was so weak, that he could scarcely

raise himself into a sitting posture; when he had done so, he

looked feebly round for help, and groaned with pain. Trembling

in every joint, from cold and exhaustion, he made an effort to

stand upright; but, shuddering from head to foot, fell prostrate

on the ground.

After a short return of the stupor in which he had been so long

plunged, Oliver: urged by a creeping sickness at his heart,

which seemed to warn him that if he lay there, he must surely

die: got upon his feet, and essayed to walk. His head was dizzy,

and he staggered to and from like a drunken man. But he kept up,

nevertheless, and, with his head drooping languidly on his

breast, went stumbling onward, he knew not whither.

And now, hosts of bewildering and confused ideas came crowding on

his mind. He seemed to be still walking between Sikes and

Crackit, who were angrily disputing--for the very words they

said, sounded in his ears; and when he caught his own attention,

as it were, by making some violent effort to save himself from

falling, he found that he was talking to them. Then, he was alone

with Sikes, plodding on as on the previous day; and as shadowy

people passed them, he felt the robber's grasp upon his wrist.

Suddenly, he started back at the report of firearms; there rose

into the air, loud cries and shouts; lights gleamed before his

eyes; all was noise and tumult, as some unseen hand bore him

hurriedly away. Through all these rapid visions, there ran an

undefined, uneasy conscious of pain, which wearied and tormented

him incessantly.

Thus he staggered on, creeping, almost mechanically, between the

bars of gates, or through hedge-gaps as they came in his way,

until he reached a road. Here the rain began to fall so heavily,

that it roused him.

He looked about, and saw that at no great distance there was a

house, which perhaps he could reach. Pitying his condition, they

might have compassion on him; and if they did not, it would be

better, he thought, to die near human beings, than in the lonely

open fields. He summoned up all his strength for one last trial,

and bent his faltering steps towards it.

As he drew nearer to this house, a feeling come over him that he

had seen it before. He remembered nothing of its details; but

the shape and aspect of the building seemed familiar to him.

That garden wall! On the grass inside, he had fallen on his

knees last night, and prayed the two men's mercy. It was the

very house they had attempted to rob.

Oliver felt such fear come over him when he recognised the place,

that, for the instant, he forgot the agony of his wound, and

thought only of flight. Flight! He could scarcely stand: and

if he were in full possession of all the best powers of his

slight and youthful frame, whither could he fly? He pushed

against the garden-gate; it was unlocked, and swung open on its

hinges. He tottered across the lawn; climbed the steps; knocked

faintly at the door; and, his whole strength failing him, sunk

down against one of the pillars of the little portico.

It happened that about this time, Mr. Giles, Brittles, and the

tinker, were recruiting themselves, after the fatigues and

terrors of the night, with tea and sundries, in the kitchen. Not

that it was Mr. Giles's habit to admit to too great familiarity

the humbler servants: towards whom it was rather his wont to

deport himself with a lofty affability, which, while it

gratified, could not fail to remind them of his superior position

in society. But, death, fires, and burglary, make all men

equals; so Mr. Giles sat with his legs stretched out before the

kitchen fender, leaning his left arm on the table, while, with

his right, he illustrated a circumstantial and minute account of

the robbery, to which his bearers (but especially the cook and

housemaid, who were of the party) listened with breathless

interest.

'It was about half-past tow,' said Mr. Giles, 'or I wouldn't

swear that it mightn't have been a little nearer three, when I

woke up, and, turning round in my bed, as it might be so, (here

Mr. Giles turned round in his chair, and pulled the corner of the

table-cloth over him to imitate bed-clothes,) I fancied I heerd a

noise.'

At this point of the narrative the cook turned pale, and asked

the housemaid to shut the door: who asked Brittles, who asked the

tinker, who pretended not to hear.

'--Heerd a noise,' continued Mr. Giles. 'I says, at first, "This

is illusion"; and was composing myself off to sleep, when I heerd

the noise again, distinct.'

'What sort of a noise?' asked the cook.

'A kind of a busting noise,' replied Mr. Giles, looking round

him.

'More like the noise of powdering a iron bar on a nutmeg-grater,'

suggested Brittles.

'It was, when you HEERD it, sir,' rejoined Mr. Giles; 'but, at

this time, it had a busting sound. I turned down the clothes';

continued Giles, rolling back the table-cloth, 'sat up in bed;

and listened.'

The cook and housemaid simultaneously ejaculated 'Lor!' and drew

their chairs closer together.

'I heerd it now, quite apparent,' resumed Mr. Giles. '"Somebody,"

I says, "is forcing of a door, or window; what's to be done?

I'll call up that poor lad, Brittles, and save him from being

murdered in his bed; or his throat," I says, "may be cut from his

right ear to his left, without his ever knowing it."'

Here, all eyes were turned upon Brittles, who fixed his upon the

speaker, and stared at him, with his mouth wide open, and his

face expressive of the most unmitigated horror.

'I tossed off the clothes,' said Giles, throwing away the

table-cloth, and looking very hard at the cook and housemaid,

'got softly out of bed; drew on a pair of--'

'Ladies present, Mr. Giles,' murmured the tinker.

'--Of SHOES, sir,' said Giles, turning upon him, and laying great

emphasis on the word; 'seized the loaded pistol that always goes

upstairs with the plate-basket; and walked on tiptoes to his

room. "Brittles," I says, when I had woke him, "don't be

frightened!"'

'So you did,' observed Brittles, in a low voice.

'"We're dead men, I think, Brittles," I says,' continued Giles;

'"but don't be frightened."'

'WAS he frightened?' asked the cook.

'Not a bit of it,' replied Mr. Giles. 'He was as firm--ah!

pretty near as firm as I was.'

'I should have died at once, I'm sure, if it had been me,'

observed the housemaid.

'You're a woman,' retorted Brittles, plucking up a little.

'Brittles is right,' said Mr. Giles, nodding his head,

approvingly; 'from a woman, nothing else was to be expected. We,

being men, took a dark lantern that was standing on Brittle's

hob, and groped our way downstairs in the pitch dark,--as it

might be so.'

Mr. Giles had risen from his seat, and taken two steps with his

eyes shut, to accompany his description with appropriate action,

when he started violently, in common with the rest of the

company, and hurried back to his chair. The cook and housemaid

screamed.

'It was a knock,' said Mr. Giles, assuming perfect serenity.

'Open the door, somebody.'

Nobody moved.

'It seems a strange sort of a thing, a knock coming at such a

time in the morning,' said Mr. Giles, surveying the pale faces

which surrounded him, and looking very blank himself; 'but the

door must be opened. Do you hear, somebody?'

Mr. Giles, as he spoke, looked at Brittles; but that young man,

being naturally modest, probably considered himself nobody, and

so held that the inquiry could not have any application to him;

at all events, he tendered no reply. Mr. Giles directed an

appealing glance at the tinker; but he had suddenly fallen

asleep. The women were out of the question.

'If Brittles would rather open the door, in the presence of

witnesses,' said Mr. Giles, after a short silence, 'I am ready to

make one.'

'So am I,' said the tinker, waking up, as suddenly as he had

fallen asleep.

Brittles capitualated on these terms; and the party being

somewhat re-assured by the discovery (made on throwing open the

shutters) that it was now broad day, took their way upstairs;

with the dogs in front. The two women, who were afraid to stay

below, brought up the rear. By the advice of Mr. Giles, they all

talked very loud, to warn any evil-disposed person outside, that

they were strong in numbers; and by a master-stoke of policy,

originating in the brain of the same ingenious gentleman, the

dogs' tails were well pinched, in the hall, to make them bark

savagely.

These precautions having been taken, Mr. Giles held on fast by

the tinker's arm (to prevent his running away, as he pleasantly

said), and gave the word of command to open the door. Brittles

obeyed; the group, peeping timourously over each other's

shoulders, beheld no more formidable object than poor little

Oliver Twist, speechless and exhausted, who raised his heavy

eyes, and mutely solicited their compassion.

'A boy!' exclaimed Mr. Giles, valiantly, pushing the tinker into

the background. 'What's the matter with

the--eh?--Why--Brittles--look here--don't you know?'

Brittles, who had got behind the door to open it, no sooner saw

Oliver, than he uttered a loud cry. Mr. Giles, seizing the boy

by one leg and one arm (fortunately not the broken limb) lugged

him straight into the hall, and deposited him at full length on

the floor thereof.

'Here he is!' bawled Giles, calling in a state of great

excitement, up the staircase; 'here's one of the thieves, ma'am!

Here's a thief, miss! Wounded, miss! I shot him, miss; and

Brittles held the light.'

'--In a lantern, miss,' cried Brittles, applying one hand to the

side of his mouth, so that his voice might travel the better.

The two women-servants ran upstairs to carry the intelligence

that Mr. Giles had captured a robber; and the tinker busied

himself in endeavouring to restore Oliver, lest he should die

before he could be hanged. In the midst of all this noise and

commotion, there was heard a sweet female voice, which quelled it

in an instant.

'Giles!' whispered the voice from the stair-head.

'I'm here, miss,' replied Mr. Giles. 'Don't be frightened, miss;

I ain't much injured. He didn't make a very desperate

resistance, miss! I was soon too many for him.'

'Hush!' replied the young lady; 'you frighten my aunt as much as

the thieves did. Is the poor creature much hurt?'

'Wounded desperate, miss,' replied Giles, with indescribable

complacency.

'He looks as if he was a-going, miss,' bawled Brittles, in the

same manner as before. 'Wouldn't you like to come and look at

him, miss, in case he should?'

'Hush, pray; there's a good man!' rejoined the lady. 'Wait

quietly only one instant, while I speak to aunt.'

With a footstep as soft and gentle as the voice, the speaker

tripped away. She soon returned, with the direction that the

wounded person was to be carried, carefully, upstairs to Mr.

Giles's room; and that Brittles was to saddle the pony and betake

himself instantly to Chertsey: from which place, he was to

despatch, with all speed, a constable and doctor.

'But won't you take one look at him, first, miss?' asked Mr.

Giles, with as much pride as if Oliver were some bird of rare

plumage, that he had skilfully brought down. 'Not one little

peep, miss?'

'Not now, for the world,' replied the young lady. 'Poor fellow!

Oh! treat him kindly, Giles for my sake!'

The old servant looked up at the speaker, as she turned away,

with a glance as proud and admiring as if she had been his own

child. Then, bending over Oliver, he helped to carry him

upstairs, with the care and solicitude of a woman.
关键字:雾都孤儿
生词表: