Stranica 109 [109]
OCR
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 susceptible, 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 stuoy 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 exclamation, : “ 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. Grimwig’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 resumed : “ 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 causBumble’s features. , Mr. Bumble caught at the inquiry very quickly, and shook his head with portentous 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, unbuttoned his coat, folded his arms, inclined his head in a retrospective manner, and, after a few moments’ reflection, commenced his story. It would be tedious if given in the beadle’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, ingratitude, and malice, and who had terminated his brief career in the place of his birth, by making a sanguinary and cowardly attack on an unoffending lad, and then running away in the night-time from his master’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 observations. “| 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 information at an earlier period of the interview, he might have imparted a very different 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
