Oldal 109 [109]
lady: “I knew we should hear of him.
Poor dear! I knew we should,—I was
certain of it. Bless his heart! I said so
all along.”
Having said this, the worthy old lad
hurried back into the parlour again, and,
seating herself on a sofa, burst into tears.
The girl, who was not quite so suscepti¬
ble, had run up-stairs meanwhile, and
now returned with a request that Mr.
Bumble would follow her immediately,
which he did.
He was shown into the little back stu¬
oy where sat Mr. Brownlow and his friend
r. Grimwig, with decanters and glasses
before them: the latter gentleman eyed
him closely, and at once burst into the ex¬
clamation, :
“ A beadle—a parish beadle, or 1 11 eat
my head !” |
“Pray don’t interrupt just now,” said
Mr. Brownlow. “Take a seat, will you?”
Mr. Bumble sat himself down, quite
confounded by the oddity of Mr. Grim¬
wig’s manner. Mr. Brownlow moved the
lamp so as to obtain an uninterrupted view
of the beadle’s countenance, and said with
a little impatience,
“ Now, sir, you come in consequence
of having seen the advertisement?”
c Yes, sir,” said Mr. Bumble.
6 And you are a beadle, are you not ?”
inquired Mr. Grimwig.
“Tama
rejoined Mr. Bumble proudly.
(6 Of course,” observed Mr. Grimwig
aside to his friend. “I knew he was.
His great-coat is a parochial cut, and he
looks a beadle all over.”
Mr. Brownlow gently shook his head
to impose silence on his friend, and re¬
sumed :
“ Do you know where this poor boy is
now ?”
“ No more than nobody,” replied Mr.
Bumble.
“ Well, what do pe know of him?"
inquired the old gentleman. “ Speak out,
my friend, if you have anything to say.
What do you know of him ?"
“ You don’t happen to know any good
of him, do you?" said Mr. Grimwig caus¬
Bumble’s features. ,
Mr. Bumble caught at the inquiry very
quickly, and shook his head with porten¬
tous solemnity. |
“You see this?” said Mr. Grimwig,
looking triumphantly at Mr. Brownlow.
Mr, Brownlow looked apprehensively
at Bumble’s pursed-up countenance, and
requested him to communicate what he
7 K
knew regarding Oliver, in as few words
as ae
Mr. Bumble put down his hat, unbut¬
toned his coat, folded his arms, inclined
his head in a retrospective manner, and,
after a few moments’ reflection, com¬
menced his story.
It would be tedious if given in the bea¬
dle’s words, occupying as it did some
twenty minutes in the telling; but the
sum and substance of it was, that Oliver
was a foundling, born of low and vicious
parents, who had from his birth displayed
no better qualities than treachery, ingrati¬
tude, and malice, and who had terminated
his brief career in the place of his birth,
by making a sanguinary and cowardly at¬
tack on an unoffending lad, and then run¬
ning away in the night-time from his mas¬
ter’s house. In proof of his really being
the person he represented himself, Mr.
Bumble laid upon the table the papers he
had brought to town, and, folding his arms
again, awaited Mr. Brownlow’s observa¬
tions.
“| fear it is all too true,” said the old
gentleman sorrowfully, after looking over
the papers. “ This is not much for your
intelligence; but I would gladly have
iven you treble the money, sir, if it had
en favourable to the boy.”
It is not at all improbable that if Mr.
Bumble had been possessed with this in¬
formation at an earlier period of the inter¬
view, he might have imparted a very dif¬
ferent colouring to his little history. It
was too late to do it now, however; so he
shook his head gravely, and pocketing the
five guineas, withdrew.
Mr. Brownlow paced the room to and
fro for some minutes, evidently so much
Mr. Grimwig forbore to vex him further.
At length he stopped, and rang the bell
violently.
6 Mrs. Bedwin,” said Mr. Brownlow
when the housekeeper appeared, “ that
boy, Oliver, is an impostor.”
sc It can’t be, sir; it cannot be,” said the
old lady energetically.
6 [ tell you he is,” retorted the old gen¬
“What do you mean by
‘can’t be’? We have just heard a full
account of him from his pirth; and he has
been a thorough-paced little villain all his
life."
6] never will believe it, sir,” replied
the old lady, firmly. |
6 You old women never believe anv
thing but quack-doctors and lying story
books,” growled Mr. Grimwig. “I knew
it all along. Why didn’t you take my