Stranica 93 [93]
61
w [/]1 answer for that boy’s truth with
my life," said Mr. Brownlow, knocking
the table.
6 And I for his falsehood with my head,”
apne Mr. Grimwig, knocking the table
6 We shall see,” said Mr. Brownlow,
checking his rising passion.
is We will,” eatin Mr. Grimwig, with
a provoking smile; “ we will.”
As fate would have it, Mrs. Bedwin
chanced to bring in at this moment a small
parcel of books which Mr. Brownlow had
that morning purchased of the identical
book-stall keeper who has already figured
in this history; which having laid on the
table, she prepared to leave the room.
“Stop the boy, Mrs. Bedwin,” said Mr.
Brownlow; “there is something to go
back." .
“He has gone, sir,” replied Mrs. Bed¬
W a.
‘Call after him,” said Mr. Brownlow ;
“ .’s particular. He’s a poor man, and
t) ey are not paid for. There are some
b oks to be taken back, too."
The street-door was opened. Oliver
) n one way, and the girl another, and
1 irs. Bedwin stood on the step and scream¬
ed for the boy; but there was no boy in
ight, and both Oliver and the girl return¬
in a breathless state to report that there
were no tidings of him.
“ Dear me, I am very sorry for that,”
exclaimed Mr. Brownlow; “I particularly
wished those books to be returned to¬
night.”
“Send Oliver with them,” said Mr.
Grimwig, with an ironical smile; “he
will be sure to deliver them safely, you
know.”
“Yes; do let me take them, if you
please, sir,” said Oliver; “I’ll run all the
wey sir,"
he old gentleman was just going to
say that Oliver should not go out on any
account, when a móst ane ni cough
from Mr. Grimwig determined him that
he should, and by his prompt discharge of
the commission prove to him the injustice
of his suspicions, on this head at least, at
once.
“You shall go, my dear,” said the old
ntleman. ‘The books are on a chair
y my table. Fetch them down.”
Oliver, delighted to be of use, brought
down the books under his arm in a great
bustle, and. waited, cap in hand, to hear
what message he was to take.
“You are to say,” said Mr. Brownlow,
glancing steadily at Grimwig,—* You are
to say A t you have brought those books
back, and that yen have come to pay the
four pound ten I owe him. This is a five¬
pound. note, so you will have to bring me
back ten shillings change.”
“T won’t be ten minutes, sir,” replied
Oliver eagerly ; and, having buttoned up
the bank-note in his jacket-pocket, and
placed the books carefully under his arm,
he made a respectful bow, and left the
room. Mrs. Bedwin followed him to the
street-door, giving him many directions
about the nearest way, and the name of
the bookseller, and the name of the street,
all of which Oliver said he clearly under¬
stood; and, having superadded many in¬
junctions to be sure and not take cold, the
careful old lady at length permitted him
to depart.
“Bless his sweet face!” said the old
lady, looking after him. “I can’t bear,
somehow, to let him go out of my sight.”
At this moment Oliver looked gaily
round, and nodded before he turned the
corner. The old lady smilingly returned
his salutation, and, closing the door, went
back to her own room.
“Let me see; he’ll be back in twenty
minutes, at the longest,” said Mr. Brown¬
low, pulling out his watch, and placing it
on the table. “It will be dark by that
time.” |
“Oh! you really expect him to come
back, do you?” inquired Mr. Grimwig.
“Don’t you?’ asked Mr. Brownlow,
smiling.
The spirit of contradiction was strong
in Mr. Grimwig’s breast at the moment,
and it was rendered stronger by hig friend’s
confident smile.
“No,” he said, smiting the table with
his fist, “I do not. The boy has got a
new suit of clothes on his back, a set of
valuable books under his arm, and a five¬
pound note in his pocket; he’ll join his
old friends the thieves, and a at you.
If ever that boy returns to this house, sir,
1711 eat my head.” |
With these words he drew his chair
closer to the table, and there the two
friends sat in silent expectation, with the
watch between them. It is worthy of re.
mark, as illustrating the importance we
attach to our own judgments, and the pride
with which we put forth our most rash
and hasty conclusions, that, although M1.
Grimwig was not a bad-hearted man, and
would have been unfeignedly sorry to see
his respected friend duped and deceived,
he really did most earnestly and strongly
hope at that moment that Oliver Twist
might not come back. Of such contra¬
dictions is human nature made "1p: