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Chapter 42

发布时间:2017-01-26 11:52:42

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AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE OF OLIVER'S, EXHIBITING DECIDED MARKS OF GENIUS, BECOMES A PUBLIC CHARACTER IN THE METROPOLIS

Upon the night when Nancy, having lulled Mr. Sikes to sleep, hurried on her self-imposed mission to Rose Maylie, there advanced towards London, by the Great North Road, two persons, upon whom it is expedient that this history should bestow some attention.

They were a man and woman; or perhaps they would be better described as a male and female: for the former was one of those long-limbed, knock-kneed, shambling, bony people, to whom it is difficult to assign any precise age,--looking as they do, when they are yet boys, like undergrown men, and when they are almost men, like overgrown boys. The woman was young, but of a robust and hardy make, as she need have been to bear the weight of the heavy bundle which was strapped to her back. Her companion was not encumbered with much luggage, as there merely dangled from a stick which he carried over his shoulder, a small parcel wrapped in a common handkerchief, and apparently light enough. This circumstance, added to the length of his legs, which were of unusual extent, enabled him with much ease to keep some half-dozen paces in advance of his companion, to whom he occasionally turned with an impatient jerk of the head: as if reproaching her tardiness, and urging her to greater exertion.

Thus, they had toiled along the dusty road, taking little heed of any object within sight, save when they stepped aside to allow a wider passage for the mail-coaches which were whirling out of town, until they passed through Highgate archway; when the foremost traveller stopped and called impatiently to his companion,

'Come on, can't yer? What a lazybones yer are, Charlotte.'

'It's a heavy load, I can tell you,' said the female, coming up, almost breathless with fatigue.

'Heavy! What are yer talking about? What are yer made for?' rejoined the male traveller, changing his own little bundle as he spoke, to the other shoulder. 'Oh, there yer are, resting again! Well, if yer ain't enough to tire anybody's patience out, I don't know what is!'

'Is it much farther?' asked the woman, resting herself against a bank, and looking up with the perspiration streaming from her face.

'Much farther! Yer as good as there,' said the long-legged tramper, pointing out before him. 'Look there! Those are the lights of London.'

'They're a good two mile off, at least,' said the woman despondingly.

'Never mind whether they're two mile off, or twenty,' said Noah Claypole; for he it was; 'but get up and come on, or I'll kick yer, and so I give yer notice.'

As Noah's red nose grew redder with anger, and as he crossed the road while speaking, as if fully prepared to put his threat into execution, the woman rose without any further remark, and trudged onward by his side.

'Where do you mean to stop for the night, Noah?' she asked, after they had walked a few hundred yards.

'How should I know?' replied Noah, whose temper had been considerably impaired by walking.

'Near, I hope,' said Charlotte.

'No, not near,' replied Mr. Claypole. 'There! Not near; so don't think it.'

'Why not?'

'When I tell yer that I don't mean to do a thing, that's enough, without any why or because either,' replied Mr. Claypole with dignity.

'Well, you needn't be so cross,' said his companion.

'A pretty thing it would be, wouldn't it to go and stop at the very first public-house outside the town, so that Sowerberry, if he come up after us, might poke in his old nose, and have us taken back in a cart with handcuffs on,' said Mr. Claypole in a jeering tone. 'No! I shall go and lose myself among the narrowest streets I can find, and not stop till we come to the very out-of-the-wayest house I can set eyes on. 'Cod, yer may thanks yer stars I've got a head; for if we hadn't gone, at first, the wrong road a purpose, and come back across country, yer'd have been locked up hard and fast a week ago, my lady. And serve yer right for being a fool.'

'I know I ain't as cunning as you are,' replied Charlotte; 'but don't put all the blame on me, and say I should have been locked up. You would have been if I had been, any way.'

'Yer took the money from the till, yer know yer did,' said Mr. Claypole.

'I took it for you, Noah, dear,' rejoined Charlotte.

'Did I keep it?' asked Mr. Claypole.

'No; you trusted in me, and let me carry it like a dear, and so you are,' said the lady, chucking him under the chin, and drawing her arm through his.

This was indeed the case; but as it was not Mr. Claypole's habit to repose a blind and foolish confidence in anybody, it should be observed, in justice to that gentleman, that he had trusted Charlotte to this extent, in order that, if they were pursued, the money might be found on her: which would leave him an opportunity of asserting his innocence of any theft, and would greatly facilitate his chances of escape. Of course, he entered at this juncture, into no explanation of his motives, and they walked on very lovingly together.

In pursuance of this cautious plan, Mr. Claypole went on, without halting, until he arrived at the Angel at Islington, where he wisely judged, from the crowd of passengers and numbers of vehicles, that London began in earnest. Just pausing to observe which appeared the most crowded streets, and consequently the most to be avoided, he crossed into Saint John's Road, and was soon deep in the obscurity of the intricate and dirty ways, which, lying between Gray's Inn Lane and Smithfield, render that part of the town one of the lowest and worst that improvement has left in the midst of London.

Through these streets, Noah Claypole walked, dragging Charlotte after him; now stepping into the kennel to embrace at a glance the whole external character of some small public-house; now jogging on again, as some fancied appearance induced him to believe it too public for his purpose. At length, he stopped in front of one, more humble in appearance and more dirty than any he had yet seen; and, having crossed over and surveyed it from the opposite pavement, graciously announced his intention of putting up there, for the night.

'So give us the bundle,' said Noah, unstrapping it from the woman's shoulders, and slinging it over his own; 'and don't yer speak, except when yer spoke to. What's the name of the house--t-h-r--three what?'

'Cripples,' said Charlotte.

'Three Cripples,' repeated Noah, 'and a very good sign too. Now, then! Keep close at my heels, and come along.' With these injunctions, he pushed the rattling door with his shoulder, and entered the house, followed by his companion.

There was nobody in the bar but a young Jew, who, with his two elbows on the counter, was reading a dirty newspaper. He stared very hard at Noah, and Noah stared very hard at him.

If Noah had been attired in his charity-boy's dress, there might have been some reason for the Jew opening his eyes so wide; but as he had discarded the coat and badge, and wore a short smock-frock over his leathers, there seemed no particular reason for his appearance exciting so much attention in a public-house.

'Is this the Three Cripples?' asked Noah.

'That is the dabe of this 'ouse,' replied the Jew.

'A gentleman we met on the road, coming up from the country, recommended us here,' said Noah, nudging Charlotte, perhaps to call her attention to this most ingenious device for attracting respect, and perhaps to warn her to betray no surprise. 'We want to sleep here to-night.'

'I'b dot certaid you cad,' said Barney, who was the attendant sprite; 'but I'll idquire.'

'Show us the tap, and give us a bit of cold meat and a drop of beer while yer inquiring, will yer?' said Noah.

Barney complied by ushering them into a small back-room, and setting the required viands before them; having done which, he informed the travellers that they could be lodged that night, and left the amiable couple to their refreshment.

Now, this back-room was immediately behind the bar, and some steps lower, so that any person connected with the house, undrawing a small curtain which concealed a single pane of glass fixed in the wall of the last-named apartment, about five feet from its flooring, could not only look down upon any guests in the back-room without any great hazard of being observed (the glass being in a dark angle of the wall, between which and a large upright beam the observer had to thrust himself), but could, by applying his ear to the partition, ascertain with tolerable distinctness, their subject of conversation. The landlord of the house had not withdrawn his eye from this place of espial for five minutes, and Barney had only just returned from making the communication above related, when Fagin, in the course of his evening's business, came into the bar to inquire after some of his young pupils.

'Hush!' said Barney: 'stradegers id the next roob.'

'Strangers!' repeated the old man in a whisper.

'Ah! Ad rub uds too,' added Barney. 'Frob the cuttry, but subthig in your way, or I'b bistaked.'

Fagin appeared to receive this communication with great interest.

Mounting a stool, he cautiously applied his eye to the pane of glass, from which secret post he could see Mr. Claypole taking cold beef from the dish, and porter from the pot, and administering homeopathic doses of both to Charlotte, who sat patiently by, eating and drinking at his pleasure.

'Aha!' he whispered, looking round to Barney, 'I like that fellow's looks. He'd be of use to us; he knows how to train the girl already. Don't make as much noise as a mouse, my dear, and let me hear 'em talk--let me hear 'em.'

He again applied his eye to the glass, and turning his ear to the partition, listened attentively: with a subtle and eager look upon his face, that might have appertained to some old goblin.

'So I mean to be a gentleman,' said Mr. Claypole, kicking out his legs, and continuing a conversation, the commencement of which Fagin had arrived too late to hear. 'No more jolly old coffins, Charlotte, but a gentleman's life for me: and, if yer like, yer shall be a lady.'

'I should like that well enough, dear,' replied Charlotte; 'but tills ain't to be emptied every day, and people to get clear off after it.'

'Tills be blowed!' said Mr. Claypole; 'there's more things besides tills to be emptied.'

'What do you mean?' asked his companion.

'Pockets, women's ridicules, houses, mail-coaches, banks!' said Mr. Claypole, rising with the porter.

'But you can't do all that, dear,' said Charlotte.

'I shall look out to get into company with them as can,' replied Noah. 'They'll be able to make us useful some way or another. Why, you yourself are worth fifty women; I never see such a precious sly and deceitful creetur as yer can be when I let yer.'

'Lor, how nice it is to hear yer say so!' exclaimed Charlotte, imprinting a kiss upon his ugly face.

'There, that'll do: don't yer be too affectionate, in case I'm cross with yer,' said Noah, disengaging himself with great gravity. 'I should like to be the captain of some band, and have the whopping of 'em, and follering 'em about, unbeknown to themselves. That would suit me, if there was good profit; and if we could only get in with some gentleman of this sort, I say it would be cheap at that twenty-pound note you've got,--especially as we don't very well know how to get rid of it ourselves.'

After expressing this opinion, Mr. Claypole looked into the porter-pot with an aspect of deep wisdom; and having well shaken its contents, nodded condescendingly to Charlotte, and took a draught, wherewith he appeared greatly refreshed. He was meditating another, when the sudden opening of the door, and the appearance of a stranger, interrupted him.

The stranger was Mr. Fagin. And very amiable he looked, and a very low bow he made, as he advanced, and setting himself down at the nearest table, ordered something to drink of the grinning Barney.

'A pleasant night, sir, but cool for the time of year,' said Fagin, rubbing his hands. 'From the country, I see, sir?'

'How do yer see that?' asked Noah Claypole.

'We have not so much dust as that in London,' replied Fagin, pointing from Noah's shoes to those of his companion, and from them to the two bundles.

'Yer a sharp feller,' said Noah. 'Ha! ha! only hear that, Charlotte!'

'Why, one need be sharp in this town, my dear,' replied the Jew, sinking his voice to a confidential whisper; 'and that's the truth.'

Fagin followed up this remark by striking the side of his nose with his right forefinger,--a gesture which Noah attempted to imitate, though not with complete success, in consequence of his own nose not being large enough for the purpose. However, Mr. Fagin seemed to interpret the endeavour as expressing a perfect coincidence with his opinion, and put about the liquor which Barney reappeared with, in a very friendly manner.

'Good stuff that,' observed Mr. Claypole, smacking his lips.

'Dear!' said Fagin. 'A man need be always emptying a till, or a pocket, or a woman's reticule, or a house, or a mail-coach, or a bank, if he drinks it regularly.'

Mr. Claypole no sooner heard this extract from his own remarks than he fell back in his chair, and looked from the Jew to Charlotte with a countenance of ashy paleness and excessive terror.

'Don't mind me, my dear,' said Fagin, drawing his chair closer. 'Ha! ha! it was lucky it was only me that heard you by chance. It was very lucky it was only me.'

'I didn't take it,' stammered Noah, no longer stretching out his legs like an independent gentleman, but coiling them up as well as he could under his chair; 'it was all her doing; yer've got it now, Charlotte, yer know yer have.'

'No matter who's got it, or who did it, my dear,' replied Fagin, glancing, nevertheless, with a hawk's eye at the girl and the two bundles. 'I'm in that way myself, and I like you for it.'

'In what way?' asked Mr. Claypole, a little recovering.

'In that way of business,' rejoined Fagin; 'and so are the people of the house. You've hit the right nail upon the head, and are as safe here as you could be. There is not a safer place in all this town than is the Cripples; that is, when I like to make it so. And I have taken a fancy to you and the young woman; so I've said the word, and you may make your minds easy.'

Noah Claypole's mind might have been at ease after this assurance, but his body certainly was not; for he shuffled and writhed about, into various uncouth positions: eyeing his new friend meanwhile with mingled fear and suspicion.

'I'll tell you more,' said Fagin, after he had reassured the girl, by dint of friendly nods and muttered encouragements. 'I have got a friend that I think can gratify your darling wish, and put you in the right way, where you can take whatever department of the business you think will suit you best at first, and be taught all the others.'

'Yer speak as if yer were in earnest,' replied Noah.

'What advantage would it be to me to be anything else?' inquired Fagin, shrugging his shoulders. 'Here! Let me have a word with you outside.'

'There's no occasion to trouble ourselves to move,' said Noah, getting his legs by gradual degrees abroad again. 'She'll take the luggage upstairs the while. Charlotte, see to them bundles.'

This mandate, which had been delivered with great majesty, was obeyed without the slightest demur; and Charlotte made the best of her way off with the packages while Noah held the door open and watched her out.

'She's kept tolerably well under, ain't she?' he asked as he resumed his seat: in the tone of a keeper who had tamed some wild animal.

'Quite perfect,' rejoined Fagin, clapping him on the shoulder. 'You're a genius, my dear.'

'Why, I suppose if I wasn't, I shouldn't be here,' replied Noah. 'But, I say, she'll be back if yer lose time.'

'Now, what do you think?' said Fagin. 'If you was to like my friend, could you do better than join him?'

'Is he in a good way of business; that's where it is!' responded Noah, winking one of his little eyes.

'The top of the tree; employs a power of hands; has the very best society in the profession.'

'Regular town-maders?' asked Mr. Claypole.

'Not a countryman among 'em; and I don't think he'd take you, even on my recommendation, if he didn't run rather short of assistants just now,' replied Fagin.

'Should I have to hand over?' said Noah, slapping his breeches-pocket.

'It couldn't possibly be done without,' replied Fagin, in a most decided manner.

'Twenty pound, though--it's a lot of money!'

'Not when it's in a note you can't get rid of,' retorted Fagin. 'Number and date taken, I suppose? Payment stopped at the Bank? Ah! It's not worth much to him. It'll have to go abroad, and he couldn't sell it for a great deal in the market.'

'When could I see him?' asked Noah doubtfully.

'To-morrow morning.'

'Where?'

'Here.'

'Um!' said Noah. 'What's the wages?'

'Live like a gentleman--board and lodging, pipes and spirits free--half of all you earn, and half of all the young woman earns,' replied Mr. Fagin.

Whether Noah Claypole, whose rapacity was none of the least comprehensive, would have acceded even to these glowing terms, had he been a perfectly free agent, is very doubtful; but as he recollected that, in the event of his refusal, it was in the power of his new acquaintance to give him up to justice immediately (and more unlikely things had come to pass), he gradually relented, and said he thought that would suit him.

'But, yer see,' observed Noah, 'as she will be able to do a good deal, I should like to take something very light.'

'A little fancy work?' suggested Fagin.

'Ah! something of that sort,' replied Noah. 'What do you think would suit me now? Something not too trying for the strength, and not very dangerous, you know. That's the sort of thing!'

'I heard you talk of something in the spy way upon the others, my dear,' said Fagin. 'My friend wants somebody who would do that well, very much.'

'Why, I did mention that, and I shouldn't mind turning my hand to it sometimes,' rejoined Mr. Claypole slowly; 'but it wouldn't pay by itself, you know.'

'That's true!' observed the Jew, ruminating or pretending to ruminate. 'No, it might not.'

'What do you think, then?' asked Noah, anxiously regarding him. 'Something in the sneaking way, where it was pretty sure work, and not much more risk than being at home.'

'What do you think of the old ladies?' asked Fagin. 'There's a good deal of money made in snatching their bags and parcels, and running round the corner.'

'Don't they holler out a good deal, and scratch sometimes?' asked Noah, shaking his head. 'I don't think that would answer my purpose. Ain't there any other line open?'

'Stop!' said Fagin, laying his hand on Noah's knee. 'The kinchin lay.'

'What's that?' demanded Mr. Claypole.

'The kinchins, my dear,' said Fagin, 'is the young children that's sent on errands by their mothers, with sixpences and shillings; and the lay is just to take their money away--they've always got it ready in their hands,--then knock 'em into the kennel, and walk off very slow, as if there were nothing else the matter but a child fallen down and hurt itself. Ha! ha! ha!'

'Ha! ha!' roared Mr. Claypole, kicking up his legs in an ecstasy. 'Lord, that's the very thing!'

'To be sure it is,' replied Fagin; 'and you can have a few good beats chalked out in Camden Town, and Battle Bridge, and neighborhoods like that, where they're always going errands; and you can upset as many kinchins as you want, any hour in the day. Ha! ha! ha!'

With this, Fagin poked Mr. Claypole in the side, and they joined in a burst of laughter both long and loud.

'Well, that's all right!' said Noah, when he had recovered himself, and Charlotte had returned. 'What time to-morrow shall we say?'

'Will ten do?' asked Fagin, adding, as Mr. Claypole nodded assent, 'What name shall I tell my good friend.'

'Mr. Bolter,' replied Noah, who had prepared himself for such emergency. 'Mr. Morris Bolter. This is Mrs. Bolter.'

'Mrs. Bolter's humble servant,' said Fagin, bowing with grotesque politeness. 'I hope I shall know her better very shortly.'

'Do you hear the gentleman, Charlotte?' thundered Mr. Claypole.

'Yes, Noah, dear!' replied Mrs. Bolter, extending her hand.

'She calls me Noah, as a sort of fond way of talking,' said Mr. Morris Bolter, late Claypole, turning to Fagin. 'You understand?'

'Oh yes, I understand--perfectly,' replied Fagin, telling the truth for once. 'Good-night! Good-night!'

With many adieus and good wishes, Mr. Fagin went his way. Noah Claypole, bespeaking his good lady's attention, proceeded to enlighten her relative to the arrangement he had made, with all that haughtiness and air of superiority, becoming, not only a member of the sterner sex, but a gentleman who appreciated the dignity of a special appointment on the kinchin lay, in London and its vicinity.


    南希将赛克斯先生哄睡过去,带着她自己揽到身上的使命,匆匆赶到露丝梅莱那里,也就是在这天夜里,有两个人顺着北方大道朝着伦敦方向走来,这部传记理应向他们二位表示某种程度的关注。

    来者一个是汉子,一个是妇人,不然就说成是一男一女,或许更适当一些。前者属于那种四肢细长,膝头内弯柏拉图(Platon,前427―前347)古希腊哲学家,柏拉,行动迟缓,体瘦多骨的一类,年龄很难确定――从为人处事上看,他们在少年时代已经像发育不全的成年人了,而当他们差不多成了大人的时候,又像是一些长得过快的孩子。女的一个还算年轻,长得墩墩实实,似乎专职负责承担挂在她背上的那个沉甸甸的包袱。她的同伴行李不多,仅有一个用普通手巾裹起来的小包,一看就够轻的了,晃晃悠悠地吊在他肩上扛着的一根棍子的末端。这种光景,加上两条腿又长得出奇,他轻而易举就能领先同伴大约六七步。他偶尔颇不耐烦地猛一摇头,转过身去,仿佛是在埋怨同伴走得太慢,催促她多加一把劲似的。

    就这样,他们沿着尘土飞扬的大路奋勇前进,对于视野以内的景物全不在意,只有当邮车风驰电掣一般从伦敦城驶来的时候,他们才避往路旁,让出通道,直到两人走进高门拱道,前面的那一位才停下来,心烦意乱地向同伴喊道。

    “走啊,你走不动了?夏洛蒂,你这懒骨头。”

    “包袱可沉呢,我告诉你吧。”女的走上前去,累得都快喘不过气来,说道。

    “沉!亏你说得出口。你是管什么用的?”男的一边说,一边把自己的小包袱换到另一个肩头上。“噢,瞧你,又想休息了。唷,你除了能磨得人不耐烦,还能干什么!”

    “还很远吗?”女的靠着护壁坐下来,抬眼问道,汗水从她脸上不住地往下淌。

    “很远?很快就到了,”两腿细长的流浪汉指了指前方,说道。“瞧那边。那就是伦敦的灯火。”

    “起码也有足足两英里。”女的感到泄气。

    “管它是两英里还是二十英里,”诺亚克雷波尔说道。原来是他。“你给我起来,往前走,不然我可要踢你几脚了,我有言在先。”

    诺亚的红鼻头由于发火变得更加红润,他口中念念有词,从马路对面走过来,似乎真的要将他的恐吓付诸实施,女的只好站起身来,没再多说什么,吃力地和他并排向前走去。

    “你打算在哪儿过夜,诺亚?”俩人走出几百码之后,她问道。

    “我怎么知道?”诺亚回答,他的脾气已经因为走路变得相当坏。

    “但愿就在附近。”夏洛蒂说。

    “不,不在附近,”克雷波尔先生回答,“听着!不在附近,想都别想。”

    “为什么不?”

    “当我说了话了,不打算办一件事情,那就够了,不要再来理由啦,因为啦什么的。”克雷波尔先生神气活现地回答。

    “哟,你也用不着发那么大脾气。”女伴说道。

    “走到城外碰到的第一家旅店就住下,那样一来,苏尔伯雷兴许会伸出老鼻子,找到我们,用手铐铐上,扔到大车里押回去,那可就热闹了,不是吗?”克雷波尔先生以嘲弄的口吻说道,“不。我要走,我就是要挑最狭窄的偏街小巷,钻进去就不见了,不找到我能够瞧上眼的最最偏僻的住处,我不会停下来。妈的,你应该感谢你的运气,要不是我长了个好脑子,一开始我们要是不故意走错路,再穿过田野走回去,你一个礼拜以前就已经给严严实实关起来了,小姐。真要那样也是活该,谁让你是傻瓜呢。”

    “我知道我没有你那样机灵,”夏洛蒂回答,“可你不能把过错全推到我身上,说我要被关起来。横竖我要是给关起来了,你也跑不了。”

    “钱是你从柜台里拿的,你知道是你拿的。”克雷波尔先生说。

    “诺亚,可我拿钱是为了你呀,亲爱的。”夏洛蒂答道。

    “钱在不在我身上?”克雷波尔先生问。

    “不在,你相信我,让我带在身上,像宝贝一样,你真是我的宝贝。”这位小姐说着,拍了拍他的下巴,伸手挽住他的胳臂。

    这倒是真有其事。然而,对人一概盲从,愚蠢到绝对信赖并不是克雷波尔先生的习惯。这里应当为这位绅士说句公道话,他信任夏洛蒂到这步田地,是有一定原因的。万一他们给逮住了,钱是从她身上搜出来的,这等于是替自己留下了一条退路,他可以声称自己没有参与任何盗窃行为,从而大大有利于他蒙混过关。当然,他在这个时刻还不想阐明自己的动机,两人恩恩爱爱地朝前走去。

    按照这个周密的计划,克雷波尔先生不停地往前走,一直走到爱灵顿附近的安棋尔酒家,他根据行人的密集程度和车辆的数目作出了英明的判断,伦敦近在眼前。他停了一下,观察着哪几条街显得最为拥挤,因而自然也是最应该避开的。两人拐进圣约翰路,不一会就隐没在一片昏暗之中,这些错综复杂,污浊肮脏的小巷位于格雷旅馆胡同与伦敦肉市之间,属于伦敦市中心改建以后遗留下来的最见不得人的地区之一。

    诺亚克雷波尔穿行于这些街巷,夏洛蒂落在后边。他时而走到路旁,对某一家小旅店的整个外观打量一番,时而又磨磨蹭蹭地朝前走去,似乎他凭想像认定那里人一定很多,不合他的心意。最后,他在一家看上去比先前见到的任何一处都更寒伦、肮脏的旅店前边停下来,又走到马路对面的便道上考察了一番,这才庄严宣布就在这里投宿。

    “把包袱给我,”诺亚说着,从女的肩上解下包裹,搭在自己肩上。“你不要说话,除非问到你。这家客店叫什么名字――三――三――三什么来着?”

    “瘸子。”夏洛蒂说。

    “三个瘸子,”诺亚重复道,“招牌还真不赖。喂喂,一步也别落下,走吧。”嘱咐已毕,他用胳臂推开嘎嘎作响的店门,走进旅店,身后跟着他的女伴。

    柜台里只有一个年轻的犹太人,胳膊肘支在柜台上,正在看一张污秽的报纸。他阴沉地看着诺亚,诺亚也狠巴巴地盯着他。

    如果诺亚穿的是他那套慈善学校制服,这个犹太人把眼睛睁那么大也还有几分道理,可他已经把上装和校徽给扔了,皮短裤上边穿的是一件短罩衫,这样一来,他的外表似乎没有什么特别的理由在一家酒店里引起如此密切的关注。

    “这就是三瘸子酒店吧?”诺亚问道。

    “正是鄙号。”犹太人回答。

    “我们从乡下来,路上遇见一位绅土,向我们介绍了这个地方,”诺亚说着,用胳膊肘推了推夏洛蒂,可能是想叫她注意这一个赢得尊敬的高招,也可能是警告她不要大惊小怪。“我们今天晚上想在这儿住一宿。”

    “这事我做不了主,”巴尼说,本书中好些场合都少不了这个怪物。“我得去问问。”

    “领我们到酒吧里,给我们来点儿冷肉和啤酒,然后你再去问,好不好?”诺亚说。

    巴尼把他俩领到一个不大的里间,送上客人要的酒菜之后,他告诉两位旅客,当晚他们可以往下来,接着便退了下去,听任这可爱的一对去充饥歇息。

    原来,这一个里间与柜台只隔一道培,而且要矮几步阶梯,任何一个与这家客店有联系的人只要撩开一张小小的帘子,透过帘子下边上述房间墙壁上离地大约五英尺的一层玻璃,不仅可以俯视单间里的客人,而且完全不用担心被人发现(这块玻璃是在墙上的一个暗角里,窥视者的头必须从暗角与一根笔直的大梁之间伸出去),还可以将耳朵贴到壁板上,相当清晰地听到里边谈话的内容。酒店掌柜的目光离开这个观察所还不到五分钟,巴尼向客人传达了那几句话也刚抽身回去,这时,晚上出来活动的费金便走进了柜台,想打听自己的某个徒弟的情况。

    “嘘!”巴尼说道,“隔壁屋里有陌生人。”

    “陌生人。”老头儿打着耳语重复了一遍。

    “啊。也是个古怪的家伙,”巴尼补充道,“打乡下来,不过跑不出你的手,要不就是我看错了。”

    费金看样子对这个消息很有兴趣,他登上一张脚凳,小心翼翼地将眼睛凑到玻璃上,从这个秘密哨位上可以看到,克雷波尔先生正在吃盘子里的冷牛肉,喝壶里的黑啤酒,一边按照顺势疗法的饮食剂量①,随意分一些牛肉、啤酒给夏洛蒂,而她则安安分分坐在一旁吃着,喝着——

    ①指数量极少。

    “啊哈。”费金朝巴尼转过头来,低声说道。“我喜欢那小子的长相。他会对我们有用的。他已经懂得如何训练那丫头了。你别像耗子一样发出那么多声音,亲爱的,让我听听他们在说什么――让我听听。”

    费金又一次把眼睛凑到玻璃上,耳朵转向壁板,全神贯注地听着,一脸狡猾而又急切的神情,活像一个老恶魔。

    “所以我打算做一位绅士,”克雷波尔先生蹬了蹬腿,继续说道,费金迟到一步,没听到开头的部分。“再也不去恭维那些宝贝棺材了,夏洛蒂,过一种上等人的生活,而且,只要你高兴,尽可以做一位太太。”

    “我自然再高兴不过了,亲爱的,”夏洛蒂回答,“可钱柜不是天天都有得腾,别人往后会查出来的。”

    “去他妈的钱柜。”克雷波尔先生说,“除了腾空钱柜以外,有的是事情。”

    “你指的是什么?”同伴问。

    “钱包啦,女人家的提袋啦,住宅啦,邮车啦,银行啦。”克雷波尔先生喝啤酒喝得性起,说道。

    “可这么些事,你也办不了呀,亲爱的。”夏洛蒂说道。

    “我要找能办事的人合伙干,”诺亚回答,“他们有法子派给咱这样那样用处的。嗨,你自己就抵得上五十个娘们。只要我把你放出去,绝对找不到像你这样花言巧语诡计多端的人。”

    “天啦,听你这么说人家才叫开心呢!”夏洛蒂大叫起来,在他那张丑脸上印了一吻。

    “唉唉,够了够了,你别过分亲热,免得我跟你发火,”诺亚说着,狠命挣脱开来。“我想当某一伙人的首领,让他们都乖乖听我的,还要到处跟着他们,连他们自个儿都不知道。这才合我的心思,只要油水大就行。咱们只要结交几位这类的绅士,我说,就是花掉你弄到的那张二十英镑的票据也划得来――再说了,我们自个也不大清楚怎么出手。”

    这一番见解抒发已毕,克雷波尔先生摆出一副莫测高深的样子,对着啤酒缸观察了一阵,又使劲摇了摇缸子里的啤酒,朝夏洛蒂点点头,算是给她面子,他呷了一口啤酒,看上去精神振作了许多。他正盘算着再来一口,却停住了,房门突然打开,一个陌生人走了进来。

    陌生人就是费金先生。他走上前来,样子非常和气,深深地鞠了一躬,在最近的一张餐桌上坐下来,向咧着嘴直笑的巴尼要了一点饮料。

    “先生,好一个可爱的夜晚,只是就节令而言嫌冷了点,”费金搓着双手,说道。“我看得出,是从乡下来的吧,先生?”

    “你怎么看出来的?”诺亚克雷波尔问道。

    “我们伦敦没那么多尘土。”老犹太指了指诺亚和他那位同伴的鞋,又指了指那两个包袱。

    “你这人真有眼力,”诺亚说道,“哈哈!你听听,夏洛蒂。”

    “是啊,一个人呆在伦敦城还真得有点眼力才行,亲爱的,”老犹太压低声音,推心置腹地打起耳语来。“那可假不了。”

    费金说过这句话,用右手食指敲了敲鼻翼――诺亚存心要模仿一下这个动作,可是因为他的鼻子不够大,模仿得不算成功。不过,费金先生似乎将诺亚的这番努力看成是完全赞同他的见解的一种表示,他态度非常亲切,将巴尼端上来的酒敬给对方。

    “真是好酒。”克雷波尔先生咂了咂嘴,说道。

    “嗳呀呀。”费金说道,“一个男子汉要想成天有这个酒喝,就得不断把钱柜里的钱,或者钱包,或者女人的提袋,或者住宅、邮车、银行倒腾个精光。”

    克雷波尔先生猛一听见从他自己的高论中摘引出来的片段,顿时瘫倒在椅子上,他面如死灰,极度恐惧地看看老犹太,又看看夏洛蒂。

    “用不着担心,亲爱的,”费金说着,把椅子挪近了一些。“哈哈。真是运气,只有我一个人偶然听见你在说话,幸好只有我一个人。”

    “不是我拿的,”诺亚不再像一位信心十足的绅士那样将两条腿伸得长长的,而是尽可能缩回到椅子底下,结结巴巴地说。“全是她干的。钱在你身上,夏洛蒂,你知道钱在你那儿。”

    “钱在谁身上,或者说是谁干的,都没有关系,亲爱的。”费金回答道,眼睛却像鹰隼一样扫了一眼那个姑娘和两个包袱。“我本人就是干这行的,就为这个我喜欢你们。”

    “哪一行?”克雷波尔先生略微回过神来,问道。

    “正经买卖,”费金回答,“店里这几个人也一样。你们算是找了个正着,这地方再安全不过了。全城没有一个地方比瘤子店更保险的,就是说,那要看我是不是高兴了,我对你和这位小娘子挺喜欢,所以才说那句话,你们尽管放心。”

    有了这一番保证,诺亚克雷波尔的心可能已经放下了,但他的身体总觉得不自在,他扭来扭去,变换成各种粗俗不雅的姿势,同时用交织着恐惧和猜疑的眼神望着新结识的朋友。

    “我还可以告诉你,”费金友好地连连点头,又嘟嘟哝哝地说了几句鼓励的话,让夏洛蒂定下心来,随后说道。“我有个朋友,恐怕能够满足你朝思暮想的心愿,帮助你走上正道,在他那里,你一开始就可以挑选这一行里你认为最适合的一个部门,还可以把其余的都学会。”

    “你说话倒像是当真的。”诺亚答道。

    “不当真对我有什么好处?”费金耸耸肩膀,问道。“过来!我同你上外边说句话。”

    “没有必要挪地方嘛,怪麻烦的,”诺亚说着,缓缓地重新把腿伸了出去。“让她乘这功夫把行李搬上楼去。夏洛蒂,留心那些个包袱。”

    这一道命令下达得威风凛凛,又毫无异议地得到了执行。夏洛蒂见诺亚拉开房门,等着她出去,赶紧拿起包裹走开。

    “她训练得还不错,是吗?”他边问边坐回老地方,口气活像是个驯服了某种野兽的饲养员。

    “太棒了,”费金拍了拍他的肩膀,答道。“你真是一位天才,亲爱的。”

    “那还用说,我如果不是天才的话,就不会在这儿了,”诺亚回答,“可我还是得说,你别浪费时间,她就要回来了。”

    “那你认为如何呢?”费金说道,“你要是喜欢我朋友,跟他合伙岂不更好?”

    “他做的买卖到底好不好,问题在这里。”诺亚眨巴着两只小眼睛中的一只,应声说道。

    “顶了尖了,雇了好多的帮手,全是这一行里最出色的高手。”

    “清一色的城里人?”克雷波尔先生问。

    “他们当中没有一个乡下人。要不是他眼下相当缺人手,就算是我推荐,恐怕他也不会要你。”费金回答。

    “我是不是要先送礼?”诺亚在短裤口袋上拍了一巴掌,说。

    “不送礼恐怕办不成。”费金的态度十分明确。

    “二十镑,可是――这可是一大笔钱。”

    “如果是一张没法出手的票据,情况就不同了。”费金回敬道。“号码和日期都记下来了吧?银行止付呢?啊!这种东西对他价值不大,往后只能弄到国外去,市场上卖不上一个好价钱。”

    “我什么时候可以见到他?”诺亚满腹疑窦,问道。

    “明天早晨。”老犹太答。

    “在什么地方?”

    “就在这儿。”

    “嗯。”诺亚说道,“工钱怎么算啊?”

    “日子过得像一位绅士――食宿烟酒全部免费――加上你全部所得的一半,还有那位小娘子挣到的一半。”费金先生回答。

    如果诺亚克雷波尔是一位完全可以作主的经纪人,单凭他那份赤裸裸的贪婪,连像这样诱人的条件会不会接受,还大可怀疑。但他想到,要是他予以拒绝,这位新相识可以立刻将自己扭送法院(而且比这更不可思议的事情也发生过),他渐渐软下来,说他认为这还算合适。

    “不过你要明白,”诺亚把话说明了,“既然她往后可以做的事很多,我希望找一件非常轻松的事。”

    “一件小小的,有趣的事?”费金提议。

    “啊。反正是那类的事,”诺亚回答,“你认为眼下什么对我合适呢?不用花多大力气,又不太危险,你知道。那是一码事。”

    “我听你说起过对其他人盯梢的事,亲爱的,”费金说道,“我朋友正需要这方面的能人,非常需要。”

    “是啊,我是说过,而且我有的时候并不反对于这种事,”克雷波尔先生慢吞吞地回答。“不过,这种事本身是赚不到钱的,你知道。”

    “那倒是真的。”老犹太沉思着,或者说装出沉思的样子,说道。“是啊,赚不到钱。”

    “那你意思如何?”诺亚焦急地望着他,问道。“可不可以偷偷摸摸干点什么,只要事情靠得住,而且不比呆在家里危险多少。”

    “在老太太身上打主意怎么样啊?”费金问,“把她们的手提袋、小包裹夺过来,转个弯就跑不见了,可有不少的钱好赚呢。”

    “有的时候,她们不是要大喊大叫,用手乱抓吗?”诺亚摇着脑袋反问道,“那种事恐怕不合我的意。还有没有别的路子?”

    “有了。”费金将一只手搁在诺亚的膝盖上,说道。“收娃娃税。”

    “这是什么?”克雷波尔先生听不懂了。

    “娃娃嘛,亲爱的,”老犹太说道,“就是母亲派去买东西的小孩,他们身上总是带着些个六便士银币或者先令出来。收税,就是把他们的钱抢走――他们向来是把钱捏在手里――然后将他们推到水沟里,再慢慢吞吞地走开,就好像什么事没有,不就是有个小孩自己掉进沟里摔疼了?哈哈哈!”

    “哈哈!”诺亚欣喜若狂地双腿直蹬,放声大笑。“哦哟哟,就干这事。”

    “说定了,”费金回答,“我们可以在坎登镇、决战桥,以及周围一带划几块好地盘给你,那些地方派小孩出来买东西的很多,白天无论哪个时间,你爱把多少娃娃推到沟里都成。哈哈哈!”

    说到这里,费金戳了一下克雷波尔先生的肋骨,两人同时爆发出一阵经久不息的高声大笑。

    “呵,一切都很好。”诺亚说道,他已经止住笑,夏洛蒂也回到了屋里。“我们说定,明天什么时间?”

    “十点钟行不行?”费金问,他见克雷波尔先生点头认可,又补充说,“我向我的好朋友介绍的时候,该如何称呼呢?”

    “波尔特先生,”诺亚回答,他对这类紧急情况已有所准备。“莫里斯波尔特先生。这位是波尔特夫人。”

    “身为波尔特夫人恭顺的仆人,”费金边说边鞠躬,礼貌周全得令人可笑,“相信无需多时就能进一步熟识夫人。”

    “夏洛蒂,这位绅士在说话,你听见没有?”克雷波尔先生发出雷鸣般的吼声。

    “听见了,诺亚,唷。”波尔特夫人伸出一只手来,回答道。

    “她管我叫诺亚,作为一种亲昵的称呼,”莫里斯波尔特先生,即前克雷波尔,朝费金转过身去,说道。“你明白吗?”

    “噢,是的,我明白――完全明白,”费金回答,他只有这一次讲的是实话。“明儿见。明儿见。”

    伴随着许许多多的再会与美好的祝愿,费金先生动身上路了。诺亚克雷波尔先叫他那位贤明的太太注意力集中,开始围绕自己敲定的事情对她进行开导,那种居高临下、目空一切的神气,不仅对于堂堂大丈夫中的一员十分得体,而且俨然就是一位绅士,深知在伦敦及其附近收娃娃税是一项多么体面的特别任命。

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