CHAPTER XXXVII. IN WHICH THE READER MAY PERCEIVE A CONTRAST, NOT UNCOMMON IN MATRIMONIAL CASES

d.I’vedoneit.” “Thescene,theworkhouse.” “Good!” “Andthetime,night.” “Yes.” “Andtheplace,thecrazyhole,whereveritwas,inwhichmiserabledrabsbroughtforththelifeandhealthsooftendeniedtothemselves—gavebirthtopulingchildrenfortheparishtorearandhidtheirshame,rot’eminthegrave!” “Thelying-inroom,Isuppose?”saidMr.Bumble,notquitefollowingthestranger’sexciteddescription. “Yes,”saidthestranger.“Aboywasbornthere.” “Amanyboys,”observedMr.Bumble,shakinghishead,despondingly. “Amurrainontheyoungdevils!”criedthestranger“Ispeakofoneameek-looking,pale-facedboy,whowasapprenticeddownhere,toacoffin-maker—Iwishhehadmadehiscoffin,andscrewedhisbodyinit—andwhoafterwardsranawaytoLondon,asitwassupposed.” “Why,youmeanOliver!YoungTwist!”saidMr.Bumble“Irememberhim,ofcourse.Therewasn’taobstinateryoungrascal—” “It’snotofhimIwanttohearI’veheardenoughofhim,”saidthestranger,stoppingMr.BumbleintheoutsetofatiradeonthesubjectofpoorOliver’svices.“It’sofawomanthehagthatnursedhismother.Whereisshe?” “Whereisshe?”saidMr.Bumble,whomthegin-and-waterhadrenderedfacetious.“Itwouldbehardtotell.There’snomidwiferythere,whicheverplaceshe’sgonetosoIsupposeshe’soutofemployment,anyway.” “Whatdoyoumean?”demandedthestranger,sternly. “Thatshediedlastwinter,”rejoinedMr.Bumble. Themanlookedfixedlyathimwhenhehadgiventhisinformation,andalthoughhedidnotwithdrawhiseyesforsometimeafterwards,hisgazegraduallybecamevacantandabstracted,andheseemedlostinthought.Forsometime,heappeareddoubtfulwhetherheoughttoberelievedordisappointedbytheintelligencebutatlengthhebreathedmorefreelyandwithdrawinghiseyes,observedthatitwasnogreatmatter.Withthatherose,asiftodepart. ButMr.Bumblewascunningenoughandheatoncesawthatanopportunitywasopened,forthelucrativedisposalofsomesecretinthepossessionofhisbetterhalf.HewellrememberedthenightofoldSally’sdeath,whichtheoccurrencesofthatdayhadgivenhimgoodreasontorecollect,astheoccasiononwhichhehadproposedtoMrs.Corneyandalthoughthatladyhadneverconfidedtohimthedisclosureofwhichshehadbeenthesolitarywitness,hehadheardenoughtoknowthatitrelatedtosomethingthathadoccurredintheoldwoman’sattendance,asworkhousenurse,upontheyoungmotherofOliverTwist.Hastilycallingthiscircumstancetomind,heinformedthestranger,withanairofmystery,thatonewomanhadbeenclosetedwiththeoldharridanshortlybeforeshediedandthatshecould,ashehadreasontobelieve,throwsomelightonthesubjectofhisinquiry. “HowcanIfindher?”saidthestranger,thrownoffhisguardandplainlyshowingthatallhisfears(whatevertheywere)werearousedafreshbytheintelligence. “Onlythroughme,”rejoinedMr.Bumble. “When?”criedthestranger,hastily. “To-morrow,”rejoinedBumble. “Atnineintheevening,”saidthestranger,producingascrapofpaper,andwritingdownuponit,anobscureaddressbythewater-side,incharactersthatbetrayedhisagitation“atnineintheevening,bringhertomethere.Ineedn’ttellyoutobesecret.It’syourinterest.” Withthesewords,heledthewaytothedoor,afterstoppingtopayfortheliquorthathadbeendrunk.Shortlyremarkingthattheirroadsweredifferent,hedeparted,withoutmoreceremonythananemphaticrepetitionofthehourofappointmentforthefollowingnight. Onglancingattheaddress,theparochialfunctionaryobservedthatitcontainednoname.Thestrangerhadnotgonefar,sohemadeafterhimtoaskit. “Whatdoyouwant?”criedtheman,turningquicklyround,asBumbletouchedhimonthearm.“Followingme?” “Onlytoaskaquestion,”saidtheother,pointingtothescrapofpaper.“WhatnameamItoaskfor?” “Monks!”rejoinedthemanandstrodehastilyaway.