Chapter 29 Chapter Twenty Eight

(Find Oliver, and tell what happened to him.) "Let the wolf bite your necks off," whispered Sikes, chattering his teeth. "One day none of you will be able to hide from you, and you will hoarse your voice even more." Sikes unleashed this curse with a swearing expression, with a look of recklessness on his face which fully expressed his reckless temper.He laid the wounded Oliver across his knees, and turned his head to look at his pursuers. The night was dark and foggy, and nothing could be discerned except for the noisy shouts that shook the air, and the neighboring dogs, woken up by the urgent bell, barked one after another, and there was a sound in all directions.

"Stop, you coward!" snapped the robber, seeing Toby Crackitt, with his long legs spread out, ahead of him. "stop!" Hearing the second yell, Toby stopped suddenly.He was not sure he was out of range of the pistol, and Sikes was in no mood for jokes. "Help get the boy off," Sikes gestured murderously to his accomplice. "return!" Toby made an appearance of turning back, and walked slowly towards this side, but boldly stated that his boss was unwilling to go back, his voice was not loud, and because he was out of breath, he spoke intermittently. "Quick!" cried Sikes, who, laying Oliver in a dry ditch at his feet, drew a pistol from his pocket. "Don't play tricks on me."

Just then the uproar grew louder.Sikes looked round again, and judged that the pursuers were climbing the gate of the field in which he stood, with two dogs running ahead. "It's all over, Bill!" cried Toby, "leave the boy and run away." Mr. Crackett, who would rather try his luck at the guns of a friend than at the hands of his enemy, said With a farewell message, he deserted in an open and aboveboard manner and ran away in a flash.Sikes gritted his teeth, looked back again, threw the cloak which had been carelessly wrapped around Oliver just now, on the child lying on the ground, and ran away along the fence, apparently intending to leave behind him. The person who moves away from the place where the child is lying.He stopped suddenly at another fence perpendicular to the above-mentioned point, drew a circle in the air with his pistol held high, and fled across the fence.

"Hey, hey, over there!" cried a trembling voice from behind. "Pincher! Neptune! Come here, come here!" The two dogs, like their owners, seemed to have no particular interest in the ongoing game, and obeyed orders readily.At this time, the three men who had already run some distance across the field stopped their search and got together to discuss. "I mean, or at least should say, my orders," said the fattest one in the line, "we'd better hurry back." "I don't disagree with anything that Mr. Giles approves," said a man of short but by no means thin stature, very pale and refined, as is often the case with frightened people.

"Gentlemen, I don't like to appear unmanned," said the third, having called the dog back. "Mr. Giles makes up his mind." "Of course," replied the short man, "we shall not contradict whatever Mr. Giles says. No, no, I know where I am. I know where I am, thank God." In truth, the little man did He seemed to understand his situation very well, and fully understood that this was not a desirable situation. While speaking, his teeth kept clicking. "You're frightened, Brittles," said Mr. Giles. "I'm not afraid," Brittles said.

"You're frightened, Brittles," said Kelsey. "You're talking nonsense, Mr. Giles," said Brittles. "You're lying, Brittles," said Mr. Giles. Now these four back-and-forth rebuttals are caused by Mr. Giles' mocking, and Mr. Giles' hurtful words are because he feels angry. Others use a compliment as a cover, and put the responsibility of going back again on their own head. .The third ended the debate in perfect philosopher style. "Let me tell you what it is, gentlemen," said he, "that we are all frightened." "Tell yourself, sir," said Mr. Giles, who was the palest of the party.

"I mean myself," replied a third. "In such a case, it is natural to feel afraid, and there is nothing wrong with it. I am indeed afraid." “Me too,” Brittles said, “except there’s no point in bluffing and accusing people of being scared.” This frank confession softened Mr. Giles's heart, and he immediately admitted that he was afraid, too, and the three of them turned around together and ran back in unison, running, Mr. Giles. (he was shortest of breath among his companions, and lugging a pitchfork), and with great magnanimity advocated a pause and asked him to apologize for what he had just said.

"It's a curious thing, though," said Mr. Giles, when he had finished his explanation. "A man can do anything if he has the blood. I'm afraid I'll commit murder—I know that—if we catch One of those gangsters." The other two felt the same way, and their blood energy also subsided like him, and then they began to think about the reason for this sudden change in temperament. "I know what it is," said Mr. Giles. "It must be the gate." "I wouldn't be surprised if it were," exclaimed Brittles, who immediately embraced the idea.

"Just believe it," Kyles said, "the anger didn't hit because of the door. I felt it. I was about to climb over the door when the anger suddenly disappeared." Coincidentally, the other two experienced the same unpleasant feeling at the same moment.It was obvious that the fence-gate was the problem, especially considering that the timing of the mutation was beyond doubt, since all three recalled that they had appeared to the robber at the very moment of the mutation. There were three men talking, among them the two men who had frightened off the burglars, and a tinker who walked the streets.The Tinker, who had been sleeping in the outhouse, was awakened, and joined the chase with his two rogue dogs.Mr. Giles was double-handed, foreman and housekeeper to the old lady.Brittles is a mediocre child who has worked for the old lady since he was a child, and is still regarded as a worthless kid, even though he is in his early thirties.

The three of them emboldened each other with such talk, but still huddled together tightly, looking back anxiously whenever a gust of wind blew and the branches rustled.They had left the lantern behind the tree beforehand, lest the light should indicate in which direction the robbers should fire.They scrambled behind the tree, grabbed their lanterns, and trotted home.Their gray figures were no longer recognizable, and lights could be seen flickering in the distance, as if the damp and dreary air were constantly spewing out clouds of phosphorescent fire. The day is slowly coming, and the surrounding air is getting colder and colder.The fog is like a cloud of cloudy smoke, rolling around on the ground.The grass was wet, and the paths and low places were filled with muddy water.The smelly and corrupt wind blew through the place listlessly, moaning and groaning with dampness in it.Oliver lay on the spot where Sikes had dropped him, still motionless and unconscious.

Dawn was about to break, and the first dim, blurred colors—the death of night rather than the birth of day—weakly shimmered in the air, and the air became bitterly bitter.Objects that seemed vague and eerie in the darkness became more and more distinct, gradually resuming their familiar shapes.A shower of rain pattered on the bare bushes.Although the rain was beating on him, Oliver did not feel it, and lay stretched out on his bed of dirt, helpless and unconscious. Finally, a painful and weak cry broke the silence around, and the child groaned and woke up.His left arm, roughly bound with a shawl, hung heavy and immobile by his side, and the shawl was soaked with blood.He was so limp that he could barely sit up.When Guo really sat up, he turned his head with difficulty, hoping for help, but he couldn't help moaning in pain.Every joint in his body trembled with cold and fatigue.He struggled to stand up, but, shaking from head to toe, fell straight down again. Not long after Oliver awoke from his long stupor, a sudden nausea of ​​worms crawled over him, as if to warn him that if he lay there he would surely die.He stood up and took a tentative step.His mind was dizzy, and he staggered a few steps like a drunk.Even so, he persisted, with his head limply resting on his chest, he stumbled forward, and he didn't know where he was going. At this moment a multitude of confusing and bewildering impressions flooded his mind.He seemed still to be walking between Sikes and Crackit, who were still bickering angrily--their words were ringing in his ears again.He struggled desperately to keep from falling to the ground, and now he seemed to wake up and realized that he was talking to them.Then there was a walk, alone with Sikes, just as it had been the day before.Phantom figures walked past them, and he felt the bandit's grip on his wrist.Suddenly, shots were fired, and he backed away again and again, as loud shouts echoed in the air, lights flickered before his eyes, and there was noise and commotion all around him, when an invisible hand led him hurriedly. go away.An indescribable, disturbing pain penetrated all these fleeting images, haunting and tormenting him constantly. In this way, he staggered along, almost unconsciously crawling through gaps in the cross-bars of the gate or gaps in the fence that blocked the way, and came to a road.When he got here, it rained heavily, and he woke up. He looked around and saw a house not far away, maybe he still had the strength to walk there.Seeing his situation, the people inside might feel pity for him.Even if they don't show mercy, he thought, it's better to die with someone next to him than in the lonely wilderness.This was the final test, and with all his strength, he walked tremblingly towards the house. As he approached the house step by step, he felt a sense of deja vu. He couldn't recall the relevant details at all, but he seemed to have seen the style and appearance of this building somewhere. That garden wall.He had been kneeling on the grass just inside the wall last night, begging those two fellows for mercy.This is the house they were trying to rob. Oliver recognized the place, and a wave of dread came over him, and for a moment he even forgot the pain of his wound, and only thought of running away.escape!He couldn't even stand upright, even if his immature and thin body was in an energetic state, where could he escape?He pushed the garden door, which was unlocked, and swung open.He staggered across the grass, climbed the steps, and knocked timidly at the door, as he passed out, leaning against a post in the little porch. It so happened that at this hour Mr. Giles, Brittles, and the tinker, after a night of toil and fear, were in the kitchen, refreshed with tea and various food.According to Mr. Giles' temperament, he has always disapproved of getting too close to the servants of the lower ranks, and is more accustomed to getting along with the lower ranks in a noble and friendly manner, so that they will not be surprised and will not forget that he is in the outside world. higher status than them.But funerals, fires, and robberies level all men, and so Mr. Giles, sitting before the kitchen stove, with his legs outstretched, his left arm propped on the table, and his right hand gesticulating, was telling the story of the robbery. Several of his audience (especially the cook and maid) listened to the detailed plot with great interest, and dared not even express their enthusiasm. "It was about half-past two," said Mr. Giles, "maybe near three, I'm not sure, but I woke up and turned over in bed, as I am now ( At this point, Mr. Giles turned around in his chair, and pulled the corner of the tablecloth over his body to use it as a quilt), I seem to have heard a little noise." At this juncture of the story, the cook turned pale, and asked the maid to close the door, and the maid asked Brittles to do it, and Brittles asked the tinker to close the door, but this one pretended to be Did not hear. "—I heard a little noise," continued Mr. Giles. "I said at the beginning that it was a hallucination, and I was just trying to sleep in peace, when I heard that voice again, clearly." "What kind of noise is it?" asked the cook. "It's the sound of something breaking," Mr. Giles answered, looking back and forth. "It's more like the sound of iron bars grinding on a nutmeg grinder," Brittles offered his opinion. "That's when you heard it, sir," replied Mr. Giles, "but at this moment there was a sound of something breaking. I threw the coverlet," and Giles pushed back the table-cloth, Then he said, "Sit up from the bed, put your ears up and listen." The cook and the maid cried out in unison, and drew the chairs closer together. "I could hear it quite plainly this time," went on Mr. Giles, "'somebody must be,' said I, 'was knocking on the door, or the window, and what to do? That means waking Brittles so he won't be killed in bed. Otherwise,' said I, 'he'd have his windpipe cut off from right ear to left before he knew it.'" At this moment, all eyes turned to Brittles. He stared at the storyteller with a stupefied expression, with an expression of absolute terror on his face. "I threw the quilt aside," Kaiers threw off the tablecloth, looking at Huiniang and the maid with a very serious expression. "Gently got off the bed, put on—" "There's a lady here, Mr. Giles," whispered the Tinker. "A pair of shoes, man," said Giles, turning to him, emphasizing the word "shoes." "Finding a fully loaded pistol, I take this fellow upstairs with the cutlery basket every day, and I tiptoe into his room. 'Brittles,' I called him Wake up, 'Don't be afraid.'” "That's what you said," whispered Brittles. "'I'm afraid we're dead, Brittles,' said I," continued Kelsey, "'but don't be afraid.'" "Is he frightened?" asked the cook. "Not at all," replied Mr. Giles. "He's determined—ah! Almost as determined as I am." "If it were me, I'd be scared to death on the spot," said the maid. "You are a woman." Brittles cheered up a little, and said in response. "Brittles is right," said Mr. Giles, nodding approvingly. "There is nothing to expect from a woman. We are men. Bring a blackout lamp, and the light will be on Brittles." Over the warming mantel in the house, groping down the stairs in darkness—like this." Mr. Giles stood up from his chair and took two steps with his eyes closed in order to match his description with corresponding actions. At this moment, like the other companions, he was startled and panicked Run back to the chair.The cook and maid screamed. "There's a knock at the door," said Mr. Giles with an air of indifference. "Go and open the door." No one moved. "This is really a strange thing. The boss knocked on the door early in the morning." Mr. Giles looked at the pale faces around him one by one, and his own face was ashen. "But the door has to be opened, do you hear me, then who?" As Mr. Giles spoke, he fixed his eyes on Brittles. The young man was very modest by nature. Perhaps considering that he was an unknown person, he thought that this question had nothing to do with him. Anyway, he avoided answering it.Mr. Giles turned his beseeching glances to the Tinker, but he fell asleep again unexpectedly.Not to mention the ladies. "If Brittles had to open the door in the presence of witnesses," said Mr. Giles after a moment's silence, "I will testify." "I'm one of them too." The tinker woke up suddenly, just like he had just fallen asleep suddenly. Based on the above conditions, Brittles caved.Everyone found (discovery by opening the window panel) that it was already daylight, and they were somewhat relieved. They let the dog run ahead and climbed up the stairs by themselves.The two ladies who were afraid to stay below followed behind.A loud conversation, at Mr. Giles's suggestion, as a warning to any ill-intentioned fellow outside the door, that they had an advantage in numbers, and by an ingenious scheme devised by the same inventive gentleman. , pulling the tails of the two dogs in the hall, making them bark like hell. Having taken these few precautions, Mr. Giles, firmly grasping the Tinker's wrist (to keep him from slipping, he said triumphantly), gave the order to open the door.Brittles complied.The frightened company, looking over the shoulders of the others, saw nothing terrible, but poor little Oliver Twist, too weak to speak, raised his eyes with difficulty, and silently begged for their mercy. . "A child!" exclaimed Mr. Giles, throwing the Tinker behind him boldly. "What's the matter--what?--strange--Brittles--look here--don't you see?" Brittles, who had slipped behind the door as soon as it was opened, uttered a cry when he saw Oliver, and Mr. Giles seized the boy by the leg and the arm (which, luckily, was not the wounded one). , dragged him into the hall, and laid him straight on the floor. "That's him," shouted Mr. Giles up-stairs. "Catch a thief, ma'am, ma'am. There's a thief here, miss. Wounded, miss. I hit him, miss, and it was Brittles who held the lamp for me." "It was a lantern, miss," cried Brittles, putting his hand to his mouth to make his voice more distinct. The two maids rushed upstairs with the news that Mr. Giles had caught a thief. The Tinker was very busy trying to save Oliver before he could be hanged on the gallows. up.In the midst of this chaos, a woman's sweet voice sounded, and everything calmed down in an instant. "Kels!" the voice called softly at the stairs. "Yes, miss," replied Mr. Giles, "don't be afraid, miss, I'm not much hurt. He didn't struggle too hard, miss. I got him under control." "Hush!" answered the girl. "Those thieves have frightened my aunt, and now you will frighten her too. Is the poor fellow badly wounded?" "Severely hurt, miss." Kyles replied with indescribable satisfaction. "He looks like he's dying, miss," cried Brittles, with exactly the same air as before. "Miss, don't you want to come and see him? If he really dies, it will be too late." "Don't yell, okay, that's how you look like a man." The girl replied, "Wait quietly, I'll talk to my aunt." With the sound of footsteps as soft as the voice, the speaker moved away.She returned soon after, and ordered the wounded man to be carried upstairs to Mr. Giles's room, with great care.Brittles went to saddle the pony, and set off at once to Jets, from where a police officer and a doctor were sent as quickly as possible. "But would you like to look at him first, miss?" asked Mr. Giles, with as much pride as if Oliver had been some rare bird of feathers, which he had brought down with uncommon skill. "Would you like to take a look, miss?" "Not now," replied the maiden, "poor fellow. Oh. Be nice to him, Kyles, for my sake." The speaker turned and left. The old butler looked up at her with pride and admiration, as if she was his own child.Then he bowed to Oliver, and helped to carry him upstairs with feminine delicacy and earnestness.