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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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‘
He
gives
me
my
revenge
,
mind
,
’
said
the
old
man
,
pointing
to
him
eagerly
with
his
shrivelled
hand
:
‘
mind
—
he
stakes
coin
against
coin
,
down
to
the
last
one
in
the
box
,
be
there
many
or
few
.
Remember
that
!
’
‘
I
’
m
witness
,
’
returned
Isaac
.
‘
I
’
ll
see
fair
between
you
.
’
‘
I
have
passed
my
word
,
’
said
Jowl
with
feigned
reluctance
,
‘
and
I
’
ll
keep
it
.
When
does
this
match
come
off
?
I
wish
it
was
over
.
—
To
-
night
?
’
‘
I
must
have
the
money
first
,
’
said
the
old
man
;
‘
and
that
I
’
ll
have
to
-
morrow
—
’
‘
Why
not
to
-
night
?
’
urged
Jowl
.
‘
It
’
s
late
now
,
and
I
should
be
flushed
and
flurried
,
’
said
the
old
man
.
‘
It
must
be
softly
done
.
No
,
to
-
morrow
night
.
’
‘
Then
to
-
morrow
be
it
,
’
said
Jowl
.
‘
A
drop
of
comfort
here
.
Luck
to
the
best
man
!
Fill
!
’
The
gipsy
produced
three
tin
cups
,
and
filled
them
to
the
brim
with
brandy
.
The
old
man
turned
aside
and
muttered
to
himself
before
he
drank
.
Her
own
name
struck
upon
the
listener
’
s
ear
,
coupled
with
some
wish
so
fervent
,
that
he
seemed
to
breathe
it
in
an
agony
of
supplication
.
‘
God
be
merciful
to
us
!
’
cried
the
child
within
herself
,
‘
and
help
us
in
this
trying
hour
!
What
shall
I
do
to
save
him
!
’
