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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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- Стр. 386/420
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Your
mother
being
dead
,
I
knew
that
you
alone
could
solve
the
mystery
if
anybody
could
,
and
as
when
I
had
last
heard
of
you
you
were
on
your
own
estate
in
the
West
Indies
--
whither
,
as
you
well
know
,
you
retired
upon
your
mother
's
death
to
escape
the
consequences
of
vicious
courses
here
--
I
made
the
voyage
.
You
had
left
it
,
months
before
,
and
were
supposed
to
be
in
London
,
but
no
one
could
tell
where
.
I
returned
.
Your
agents
had
no
clue
to
your
residence
.
You
came
and
went
,
they
said
,
as
strangely
as
you
had
ever
done
:
sometimes
for
days
together
and
sometimes
not
for
months
:
keeping
to
all
appearance
the
same
low
haunts
and
mingling
with
the
same
infamous
herd
who
had
been
your
associates
when
a
fierce
ungovernable
boy
.
I
wearied
them
with
new
applications
.
I
paced
the
streets
by
night
and
day
,
but
until
two
hours
ago
,
all
my
efforts
were
fruitless
,
and
I
never
saw
you
for
an
instant
.
'
'
And
now
you
do
see
me
,
'
said
Monks
,
rising
boldly
,
'
what
then
?
Fraud
and
robbery
are
high-sounding
words
--
justified
,
you
think
,
by
a
fancied
resemblance
in
some
young
imp
to
an
idle
daub
of
a
dead
man
's
Brother
!
You
do
n't
even
know
that
a
child
was
born
of
this
maudlin
pair
;
you
do
n't
even
know
that
.
'
'
I
DID
NOT
,
'
replied
Mr.
Brownlow
,
rising
too
;
'
but
within
the
last
fortnight
I
have
learnt
it
all
.
You
have
a
brother
;
you
know
it
,
and
him
.
There
was
a
will
,
which
your
mother
destroyed
,
leaving
the
secret
and
the
gain
to
you
at
her
own
death
.
It
contained
a
reference
to
some
child
likely
to
be
the
result
of
this
sad
connection
,
which
child
was
born
,
and
accidentally
encountered
by
you
,
when
your
suspicions
were
first
awakened
by
his
resemblance
to
your
father
.
You
repaired
to
the
place
of
his
birth
.
There
existed
proofs
--
proofs
long
suppressed
--
of
his
birth
and
parentage
.
Those
proofs
were
destroyed
by
you
,
and
now
,
in
your
own
words
to
your
accomplice
the
Jew
,
"
THE
ONLY
PROOFS
OF
THE
BOY
'S
IDENTITY
LIE
AT
THE
BOTTOM
OF
THE
RIVER
,
AND
THE
OLD
HAG
THAT
RECEIVED
THEM
FORM
THE
MOTHER
IS
ROTTING
IN
HER
COFFIN
.
"
Unworthy
son
,
coward
,
liar
--
you
,
who
hold
your
councils
with
thieves
and
murderers
in
dark
rooms
at
night
--
you
,
whose
plots
and
wiles
have
brought
a
violent
death
upon
the
head
of
one
worth
millions
such
as
you
--
you
,
who
from
your
cradle
were
gall
and
bitterness
to
your
own
father
's
heart
,
and
in
whom
all
evil
passions
,
vice
,
and
profligacy
,
festered
,
till
they
found
a
vent
in
a
hideous
disease
which
had
made
your
face
an
index
even
to
your
mind
--
you
,
Edward
Leeford
,
do
you
still
brave
me
!
'
'
No
,
no
,
no
!
'
returned
the
coward
,
overwhelmed
by
these
accumulated
charges
.
'
Every
word
!
'
cried
the
gentleman
,
'
every
word
that
has
passed
between
you
and
this
detested
villain
,
is
known
to
me
.
Shadows
on
the
wall
have
caught
your
whispers
,
and
brought
them
to
my
ear
;
the
sight
of
the
persecuted
child
has
turned
vice
itself
,
and
given
it
the
courage
and
almost
the
attributes
of
virtue
.
Murder
has
been
done
,
to
which
you
were
morally
if
not
really
a
party
.
'
'
No
,
no
,
'
interposed
Monks
.
'
I
--
I
knew
nothing
of
that
;
I
was
going
to
inquire
the
truth
of
the
story
when
you
overtook
me
.
I
did
n't
know
the
cause
.
I
thought
it
was
a
common
quarrel
.
'
'
It
was
the
partial
disclosure
of
your
secrets
,
'
replied
Mr.
Brownlow
.
'
Will
you
disclose
the
whole
?
'
'
Yes
,
I
will
.
'
