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.Seeing “Hounslow” written on it, he asked the driver with as much civility as he could assume, if he would give them a lift as far as Isleworth.“Jump up,” said the man.“Is that your boy?”“Yes; he’s my boy,” replied Sikes, looking hard at Oliver, - and putting his hand abstractedly into the pocket where the pistol was.“Your father walks rather too quickly for you, don’t he, my man?” inquired the driver, seeing that Oliver was out of breath.“Not a bit of it,” replied Sikes, interposing.“He’s used to it.Here, take hold of my hand, Ned.In with you!”Thus addressing Oliver, he helped him into the cart; and the driver, pointing to a heap of sacks, told him to lie down there and rest himself.As they passed the different milestones Oliver wondered, more and more, where his companion meant to take him.Kensington, Hammersmith, Chiswick, Kew Bridge, Brentford, were all passed; and yet they went on as steadily as if they had only just begun their journey.At length they came to a public-house called the Coach and Horses, a little way beyond which another road appeared to turn off.And here the cart stopped.Sikes dismounted with great precipitation, holding Oliver by the hand all the while, and lifting him down directly, bestowed a furious look upon him and rapped the side-pocket with his fist in a significant manner.“Good-bye, boy,” said the man.“He’s sulky,” replied Sikes, giving him a shake; “he’s sulky.A young dog! Don’t mind him.”“Not I!” rejoined the other, getting into his cart.“It’s a fine day, after all.” And he drove away.Sikes waited until he had fairly gone; and then, telling Oliver he might look about him if he wanted, once again led him onward on his journey.They turned round to the left, a short way past the public-house, and then, taking a right-hand road, walked on for a long time, passing many large gardens and gentlemen’s houses on both sides of the way, and stopping for nothing but a little beer until they reached a town.Here, against the wall of a house, Oliver saw written up in pretty large letters, “Hampton.” They lingered about, in the fields, for some hours.At length they came back into the town and, turning into an old public-house with a defaced signboard, ordered some dinner by the kitchen fire.The kitchen was an old, low-roofed room with a great beam across the middle of the ceiling, and benches, with high backs to them, by the fire, on which were seated several rough men in smock-frocks, drinking and smoking.They took no notice of Oliver, and very little of Sikes; and, as Sikes took very little notice of them, he and his young comrade sat in a corner by themselves, without being much troubled by their company.They had some cold meat for dinner, and sat so long after it, while Mr.Sikes indulged himself with three or four pipes, that Oliver began to feel quite certain they were not going any further.Being much tired with the walk, and getting up so early, he dozed a little at first; then, quite overpowered by fatigue and the fumes of the tobacco, fell asleep.It was quite dark when he was awakened by a push from Sikes.Rousing himself sufficiently to sit up and look about him, he found that worthy in close fellowship and communication with a labouring man, over a pint of ale.“So, you’re going on to Lower Halliford, are you?” inquired Sikes.“Yes, I am,” replied the man, who seemed a little the worse—or better, as the case might be—for drinking; “and not slow about it neither.My horse hasn’t got a load behind him going back, as he had coming up in the mornin‘; and he won’t be long a-doing of it.Here’s luck to him! Ecod! he’s a good un!”“Could you give my boy and me a lift as far as there?” demanded Sikes, pushing the ale towards his new friend.“If you’re going directly, I can,” replied the man, looking out of the pot.“Are you going to Halliford?”“Going on to Shepperton,” replied Sikes.“I’m your man, as far I go,” replied the other.“Is all paid, Becky?”“Yes, the other gentleman’s paid,” replied the girl.“I say!” said the man, with tipsy gravity; “that won’t do, you know.”“Why not?” rejoined Sikes.“You’re a-going to accommodate us, and wot’s to prevent my standing treat for a pint or so, in return?”The stranger reflected upon this argument, with a very profound face; having done so, he seized Sikes by the hand and declared he was a real good fellow.To which Mr.Sikes replied he was joking, as, if he had been sober, there would have been strong reason to suppose he was.After the exchange of a few more compliments, they bade the company good night, and went out, the girl gathering up the pots and glasses as they did so, and lounging out to the door, with her hands full, to see the party start.The horse, whose health had been drunk in his absence, was standing outside, ready harnessed to the cart.Oliver and Sikes got in without any further ceremony; and the man to whom he belonged, having lingered for a minute or two “to bear him up,” and to defy the hostler and the world to produce his equal, mounted also.Then the hostler was told to give the horse his head; and, his head being given him, he made a very unpleasant use of it, tossing it into the air with great disdain, and running into the parlour windows over the way; after performing those feats, and supporting himself for a short time on his hind-legs, he started off at a great speed, and rattled out of the town right gallantly.The night was very dark.A damp mist rose from the river, and the marshy ground about, and spread itself over the dreary fields.It was piercing cold, too; all was gloomy and black.Not a word was spoken, for the driver had grown sleepy and Sikes was in no mood to lead him into conversation.Oliver sat huddled together in a corner of the cart, bewildered with alarm and apprehension, and figuring strange objects in the gaunt trees, whose branches waved grimly to and fro as if in some fantastic joy at the desolation of the scene.As they passed Sunbury Church, the clock struck seven.There was a light in the ferry-house window opposite which streamed across the road and threw into more sombre shadow a dark yew-tree with graves beneath it.There was a dull sound of falling water not far off, and the leaves of the old tree stirred gently in the night wind.It seemed like quiet music for the repose of the dead.Sunbury was passed through, and they came again into the lonely road.Two or three miles more, and the cart stopped.Sikes alighted, took Oliver by the hand, and they once again walked on.They turned into no house at Shepperton, as the weary boy had expected, but still kept walking on, in mud and darkness, through gloomy lanes and over cold open wastes, until they came within sight of the lights of a town at no great distance.On looking intently forward, Oliver saw that the water was just below them, and that they were coming to the foot of a bridge.Sikes kept straight on until they were close upon the bridge, then turned suddenly down a bank upon the left.“The water!” thought Oliver, turning sick with fear [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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