按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
hand or foot。 He had scarcely moved since the trial began； and
now that the judge ceased to speak； he still remained in the same
strained attitude of close attention； with his gaze bent on him； as
though he listened still。
A slight bustle in the court； recalled him to himself。 Looking
round； he saw that the jurymen had turned together to consider of
their verdict。 As his eyes wandered to the gallery； he could see the
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
Oliver Twist 568
people rising above each other to see his face—some hastily
applying their glasses to their eyes—and others whispering to
their neighbours with looks expressive of abhorrence。 A few there
were； who seemed unmindful of him； and looked only to the jury；
in impatient wonder how they could delay。 But in no one face—
not even among the women； of whom there were many there—
could he read the faintest sympathy with himself； or any feeling by
one of all…absorbing interest that he should be condemned。
As he saw all this in one bewildered glance； the death…like
stillness came again； and looking back； he saw that the jurymen
had turned towards the judge。 Hush！
They only sought permission to retire。
He looked wistfully into their faces； one by one； when they
passed out； as though to see which way the greater number
leaned； but that was fruitless。 The Jailer touched him on the
shoulder。 He followed mechanically to the end of the dock； and sat
down on a chair。 The man pointed it out； or he would not have
seen it。
He looked up into the gallery again。 Some of the people were
eating； and some fanning themselves with handkerchiefs； for the
crowded place was very hot。 There was one young man sketching
his face in a little note…book。 He wondered whether it was like； and
looked on when the artist broke his pencil…point； and made
another with his knife； as any idle spectator might have done。
In the same way； when he turned his eyes towards the judge；
his mind began to busy itself with the fashion of his dress； and
what it cost； and how he put it on。 There was an old fat gentleman
on the bench； too； who had gone out； some half an hour before；
and now come back。 He wondered within himself whether this
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
Oliver Twist 569
man had been to get his dinner； what he had had； and where he
had had it； and pursued this train of careless thought until some
new object caught his eye and roused another。
Not that； all this time； his mind was； for an instant； free from
one oppressive overwhelming sense of the grave that opened at his
feet； it was ever present to him； but in a vague and general way；
and he could not fix his thoughts upon it。 Thus； even while he
trembled； and turned burning hot at the idea of speedy death； he
fell to counting the iron spikes before him； and wondering how the
head of one had been broken off and whether they would mend it；
or leave it as it was。 Then he thought of all the horrors of the
gallows and the scaffold—and stopped to watch a man sprinkling
the floor to cool it—and then went on to think again。
At length there was a cry of silence； and a breathless look from
all towards the door。 The jury returned； and passed him close。
He could glean nothing from their faces； they might as well
have been of stone。 Perfect stillness ensued—not a rustle—not a
breath—Guilty。
The building rang with a tremendous shout； and another； and
another； and then it echoed loud groans； that gathered strength as
they swelled out； like angry thunder。 It was a peal of joy from the
populace outside； greeting the news that he would die on Monday。
The noise subsided； and he was asked if he had anything to say
why sentence of death should not be passed upon him。 He had
resumed his listening attitude； and looked intently at his
questioner while the demand was made； but it was twice repeated
before he seemed to hear it； and then he only muttered that he
was an old man—an old man—an old man—and so； dropping into
a whisper； was silent again。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
Oliver Twist 570
The judge assumed the black cap； and the prisoner still stood
with the same air and gesture。 A woman in the gallery uttered
some exclamation； called forth by this dread solemnity； he looked
hastily up as if angry at the interruption； and bent forward yet
more attentively。 The address was solemn and impressive； the
sentence fearful to hear。 But he stood； like a marble figure；
without the motion of a nerve。 His haggard face was still thrust
forward； his underjaw hanging down； and his eyes staring out
before him； when the jailer put his hand upon his arm； and
beckoned him away。 He gazed stupidly about him for an instant；
and obeyed。
They led him through a paved room under the court； where
some prisoners were waiting till their turns came； and others were
talking to their friends； who crowded round a grate which looked
into the open yard。 There was nobody there to speak to him； but；
as he passed； the prisoners fell back to render him more visible to
the people who were clinging to the bars； and they assailed him
with opprobrious names； and screeched and hissed。 He shook his
fist； and would have spat upon them； but his conductors hurried
him on； through a gloomy passage lighted by a few dim lamps； into
the interior of the prison。
Here he was searched； that he might not have about him the
means of anticipating the law； this ceremony performed； they led
him to one of the condemned cells； and left him there—alone。
He sat down on a stone bench opposite the door； which served
for seat and bedstead； and casting his bloodshot eyes upon the
ground； tried to collect his thoughts。 After a while； he began to
remember a few disjointed fragments of what the judge had said；
though it had seemed to him； at the time； that he could not hear a
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
Oliver Twist 571
word。 These gradually fell into their proper places； and by degrees
suggested more； so that in a little time he had the whole； almost as
it was delivered。 To be hanged by the neck； till he was dead—that
was the end。 To be hanged by the neck—till he was dead。
As it came on very dark； he began to think of all the men he had
known who had died upon the scaffold； some of them through his
means。 They rose up； in such quick succession； that he could
hardly count them。 He had seen some of them die—and had joked
too； because they died with prayers upon their lips。 With what a
rattling noise； the drop went down； and how suddenly they
changed； from strong vigorous men to dangling heaps of clothes！
Some of them might have inhabited that very cell—sat upon
that very spot。 It was very dark； why didn’t they bring a light？ The
cell had been built for many years。 Scores of men must have
passed their last hours there。 It was like sitting in a vault strewn
with dead bodies—the cap； the noose； the pinioned arms； the faces
that he knew； even beneath that hideous veil。—Light； light！
At length； when his hands were raw with be