Oldal 93 [93]
OCR
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. BedW 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 screamed for the boy; but there was no boy in ight, and both Oliver and the girl returnin 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 tonight.” “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 fivepound. 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 understood; and, having superadded many injunctions 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. Brownlow, 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 fivepound 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 contradictions is human nature made "1p:
