Олівер Твіст

Chapter 48

           Itwasnineo’clockatnight,whentheman,quitetiredout,andthedog,limpingandlamefromtheunaccustomedexercise,turneddownthehillbythechurchofthequietvillage,andploddingalongthelittlestreet,creptintoasmallpublic-house,whosescantylighthadguidedthemtothespot.Therewasafireinthetap-room,andsomecountry-labourersweredrinkingbeforeit.

           Theymaderoomforthestranger,buthesatdowninthefurthestcorner,andateanddrankalone,orratherwithhisdog:towhomhecastamorseloffoodfromtimetotime.

           Theconversationofthemenassembledhere,turnedupontheneighboringland,andfarmers;andwhenthosetopicswereexhausted,upontheageofsomeoldmanwhohadbeenburiedonthepreviousSunday;theyoungmenpresentconsideringhimveryold,andtheoldmenpresentdeclaringhimtohavebeenquiteyoungnotolder,onewhite-hairedgrandfathersaid,thanhewaswithtenorfifteenyearoflifeinhimatleastifhehadtakencare;ifhehadtakencare.

           Therewasnothingtoattractattention,orexcitealarminthis.Therobber,afterpayinghisreckoning,satsilentandunnoticedinhiscorner,andhadalmostdroppedasleep,whenhewashalfwakenedbythenoisyentranceofanewcomer.

           Thiswasananticfellow,halfpedlarandhalfmountebank,whotravelledaboutthecountryonfoottovendhones,stops,razors,washballs,harness-paste,medicinefordogsandhorses,cheapperfumery,cosmetics,andsuch-likewares,whichhecarriedinacaseslungtohisback.

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