The expedition

Chapter 21 140-141

THE EXPEDITION

It was a cheerless morning when they got into the street; blowing and raining hard; and

the clouds looking dull and stormy. The night had been very wet: large pools of water

had collected in the road: and the kennels were overflowing. There was a faint

glimmering of the coming day in the sky; but it rather aggrevated than relieved the gloom

of the scene: the sombre light only serving to pale that which the street lamps afforded,

without shedding any warmer or brighter tints upon the wet house-tops, and dreary

streets. There appeared to be nobody stirring in that quarter of the town; the windows of

the houses were all closely shut; and the streets through which they passed, were

noiseless and empty.

By the time they had turned into the Bethnal Green Road, the day had fairly begun to

break. Many of the lamps were already extinguished; a few country waggons were slowly

toiling on, towards London; now and then, a stage-coach, covered with mud, rattled

briskly by: the driver bestowing, as he passed, and admonitory lash upon the heavy

waggoner who, by keeping on the wrong side of the road, had endangered his arriving at

the office, a quarter of a minute after his time. The public-houses, with gas-lights burning

inside, were already open. By degrees, other shops began to be unclosed, and a few

scattered people were met with. Then, came straggling groups of labourers going to their

work; then, men and women with fish-baskets on their heads; donkey-carts laden with

vegetables; chaise-carts filled with live-stock or whole carcasses of meat; milk-women

with pails; an unbroken concourse of people, trudging out with various supplies to the

eastern suburbs of the town. As they approached the City, the noise and traffic gradually

increased; when they threaded the streets between Shoreditch and Smithfield, it had

swelled into a roar of sound and bustle. It was as light as it was likely to be, till night

came on again, and the busy morning of half the London population had begun.

Turning down Sun Street and Crown Street, and crossing Finsbury square, Mr. Sikes

struck, by way of Chiswell Street, into Barbican: thence into Long Lane, and so into

Smithfield; from which latter place arose a tumult of discordant sounds that filled Oliver

Twist with amazement.

It was market-morning. The ground was covered, nearly ankle-deep, with filth and mire;

a thick steam, perpetually rising from the reeking bodies of the cattle, and mingling with

the fog, which seemd to rest upon the chimney-tops, hung heavily above. All the pens in

the centre of the large area, and as many temporary pens as could be crowded into the

vacant space, were filled with sheep; tied up to posts by the gutter side were long lines of

beasts and oxen, three or four deep. Countrymen, butchers, drovers, hawkers, boys,

thieves, idlers, and vagabonds of every low grade, were mingled together in a mass; the

whistling of drovers, the barking dogs, the bellowing and plunging of the oxen, the

bleating of sheep, the grunting and squeaking of pigs, the cries of hawkers, the shouts,

oaths, and quarrelling on all sides; the ringing of bells and roar of voices, that issued from

every public-house; the crowding, pushing, driving, beating, whooping and yelling; the hideous and discordant dim that resounded from every corner of the market; and the

unwashed, unshaven, squalid, and dirty figues constantly running to and fro, and bursting

in and out of the throng; rendered it a stunning and bewildering scene, which quite

confounded the senses.

Mr. Sikes, dragging Oliver after him, elbowed his way through the thickest of the crowd,

and bestowed very little attention on the numerous sights and sounds, which so

astonished the boy. He nodded, twice or thrice, to a passing friend; and, resisting as many

invitations to take a morning dram, pressed steadily onward, until they were clear of the

turmoil, and had made their way through Hosier Lane into Holborn.

'Now, young 'un!' said Sikes, looking up at the clock of St. Andrew's Church, 'hard upon

seven! you must step out. Come, don't lag behind already, Lazy-legs!'

Mr. Sikes accompanied this speech with a jerk at his little companion's wrist; Oliver,

quickening his pace into a kind of trot between a fast walk and a run, kept up with the

rapid strides of the house-breaker as well as he could.

They held their course at this rate, until they had passed Hyde Park corner, and were on

their way to Kensington: when Sikes relaxed his pace, until an empty cart which was at

some little distance behind, came up. 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 quick 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 mile-stones, 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 run off. And here, the cart stopped.

XXI BOB. SAFAR

U lar ko‘chaga chiqqanlarida xafagazak, rutubatli tong edi:

sham ol esar, yom g‘ir yog‘ar, ko‘k betini badqovoq qora bulut qop-

lab olgandi. Yomg‘ir tu n b o ‘yi yog‘ib chiqqandi — tosh ko‘chada

katta-k atta ko‘lm ag-u halqoblar ko‘l-ko‘l bo‘lib yotar, tarnov-

lardan sharillab suv tushardi. Yorishib kelayotgan k u n ning shirava

yorug‘i m ungli m an zaran i beshbattar hazinlashtira borardi; n im tatir

yorug‘likda ko‘chadagi fonuslar xira tortib, shalabbo tom lar-u zim -

ziyo ko‘chalarga iliqlig-u yorqinlik baxsh etolm asdi. S haharning bu

qism ida hech zog‘ uyg‘onm agandi chog‘i: jam iki uylarning dera-

za qopqoqlari yopigMiq, ular o‘tib borayotgan ko‘chalar esa jim jit va

kim sasiz edi.

U lar B etn el-G rin -R o u d g a burilgan paytlarida kun tam o m an

yorishib b o ‘lgandi. F onuslarning aksari o‘chirilgan edi. L ondon-

ga qarab bir nechta qishloq aravalari im illab kelayotgandi; onda-

sonda loyga belangan usti berk aloqa aravalari taraqlagancha o‘tib

qolar, shunda haydovchi ko‘ch an in g xuddi o‘sha tom onida im irsi-

lab kelayotgan aravakashni ogohlantirib qam chi bilan siylab qolardi,

negaki, b u n in g oqibatida u idorasiga chorak daqiqa kechikib bori-

shi m u m k in ed i-d a, axir. Q ovoqxonalar allaqachon ochilgan, ularda

gazchiroq yonib turardi. D o‘konlarni ham ocha boshlashdi, un d a-

bunda yo‘lovchilar ham yo‘liqa boshladi. K eyin to ‘d a -to ‘da bo ‘lishib

ishga kelayotgan usta-xalfalar paydo b o ‘lishdi. So‘ng liq to ‘la baliqli

savatlarni boshlariga qo‘yib olgan erkag-u ayollar; sabzavot ortilgan

eshakaravalar, tirik m ol-u go‘sht ortilgan aravalar, chelak ko‘targan

sutchi ayollar — sh ah arn in g sharqiy chekkasiga oziq-ovqat-u yegu-

liklarni tash m alab kelayotganlarning keti ko‘rinm ay qoldi. Sitiga ya-

qinlagani sayin arava-ulovlarning taq ir-tu q u ri avjga m in a borardi;

Shorditch bilan Sm itfild oralig‘idagi ko‘chalardan o‘tayotganlarida

bu shovqin guvullashga aylandi, chor atrofni g ‘ovur-g‘uvur bosib

ketdi. K un butunlay yorishib b o ‘ldi — endi bundan ortiq yorishm as-

ligi tay in edi — va L ondon ah lin in g yarm i uchun ish boshlanadigan

fursat yetdi.

Sanstrit va Kraun-stritni bosib o‘tib, F insberi-skverni ortda

qoldirgan m ister Sayks C hizuel-strit bo ‘ylab borib Barbikenga chiqdi, keyin L ong-leynga, u n d an so‘ng Sm itfildga o ‘ta r ekan, ham m ay-

oqni Oliver Tvistni hayratga solgan quloqni batang qiluvchi tartibsiz

ola-shovur tutib ketdi.

B ozor kuni edi. O yoqlar naq to ‘piqqacha loyga botgan; ho‘kiz va

sigirlarning b o ‘g‘riqqan sag‘risidan ko‘tarilgan quyuq bug‘ bam isoli

m o‘rilarda dam olgan tu m an bilan qorishib, og£ir bulut yanglig6 bosh

uzra m uallaq suzadi. K attakon m aydonning o‘rtasidagi m ol qam ala-

digan qo‘to n larn in g jam ik isi, shuningdek, b o ‘sh joydagi vaqtincha

qo‘to n lar ham qo ‘y -q o ‘zilar bilan tirband; novlar yoqalab u ch -to ‘rt

qator bo‘lib tizilib ketgan ustunlarga buqalar-u bo ‘lak qoram ollar

bog‘langan. D ehqonlar, qassoblar, m ol haydovchilar, chorbozorchi-

lar, bola-baqralar, o ‘g‘rilar, bekorchilar va m ing b ir xil daydi-sayoq-

lar aralash-quralash bo ‘lib ketgan; har to m o n d an m ol haydovchi-

larning hushtaklari, itlarn in g akillashi, buqalarning m o‘rashi,

qo'y-qo‘zilarning b a’rashi, cho'chqalarning h urillashi-yu chiyil-

lashi, chorbozorchilarning qichqiriqlari, b aq iriq -ch aq iriq , qarg‘ash-u

so'kishlar eshitiladi; qo £ng ‘iroqchalarning jin g illash i, h ar b ir qovoq-

xonadan toshib chiqayotgan g£ovur-g'uvur, tiqilinch, itar-itar, nari

sur-beri sur, u rish -to £polon, bozorning to ‘rt tarafid an dam -badam

kelib turgan hayqirig£-u dod-faryod, chinqiriq, u yoqdan-bu yoq-

qa tan d a qo£yib, izg‘iyotgan, y u z-q o ‘li — suv, soch-soqoli ustara

ko'rmagan, ayanchli va isqirt o d am lar — jam i qo£shilib-qorishib

kishini dovdiratib, gangitib, karaxt etib qo£ygundek ta ’sir qilardi.

Oliverni surgab ketayotgan m ister Sayks tirsaklari bilan olom on

orasidan yo£l ochib borar, bolaning quloghni tom bitqizib, ko£zlarini

hayratga solayotgan jam ik i narsaga unchalik parvo qilm asdi. Ikki yo

uch m arta yonidan o£tib borayotgan oshnalari bilan bosh qim irlat-

ib salom lashdi-yu, b ir qadahgina ertalabki nasibasini otib ketish h a-

qidagi takliflarini rad etib, to olom on orasidan yorib chiqib, X ouzer-

Leyndan X olbornga qarab yo£lga tu shm agunlaricha sabot-la olg£a

intilaverdi.

- Q ani, bolakay, tezroq, — dedi Sayks S ent-E ndryu ibodatxona-

sining soatiga ko£z tash lab q o ‘yarkan, — hadem ay yetti b o £ladi. Tez-

roq qadam tashla! O yog‘in i sudrab bosadi-ya, yalqov!

M ister Sayks an a shunday deya turib m in i h am ro h in in g qo £lini

bir siltab tortdi; O liver kuchi yetganicha to m tesh ar o £g £rin in g il-

dam qadam iga m oslashishga tirishardi; u — tez desa tez yuribm as,

yugurib desa, yuguribm as, lo£killab borardi.

U lar toki X ayd-park m uyulishidan o £tib, K ensingtonga bu-

rilm agunlariga qadar o d im larin i sekinlatishm adi; shu yerga yetgach,

Sayks to orqalarida kelayotgan bo £sh arava u larn i quvib o £tm ag u n ich a

sekinroq yurdi. U aravadagi «Xaunslo» degan yozuvni ko'rib, aravakashdan im koni boricha m uloyim lik bilan, bizni A yluortgacha eltib

qo ‘ym aysizm i, deb so‘radi.

- C hiqinglar, — dedi aravakash. — 0 ‘g‘lingizm i bu?

- H a, — dedi Sayks Oliverga qattiq tikilib va beo‘xshovlik bilan

qo‘lini to ‘pponchali cho‘ntagiga suqib.

- O tangni qadam i kattalik qilarkan senga, tez yurarkan-a!

G apim to ‘g‘rim i, yigitcha? — dedi aravakash O liverning harsillayot-

ganini ko‘rib.

- H ech am -d a, — gapga aralashdi Sayks. — Bunga o ‘rganib ket-

gan u. Q o‘lim dan ushla, N ed. Q ani, chiqa qol!

U Oliverga shunday deb, bolaning aravaga chiqishiga yordam lash-

di, aravakash esa b o ‘sh qoplar uyum iga ishora qilib, ustiga yonbosh-

lab, nafasini rostlab olishini aytdi.

U lar yo‘l chetidagi u stunlar yonidan o ‘tib borishar ekan, ham -

rohim qayoqqa olib ketyapti m eni o‘zi, deb O liverning tobora taa-

jjubi o rta bordi. K ensington, X am ersm it, C hizuik, Kyu-Brij, Brent-

ford orqada qoldi, shunga qaram asdan ular, xuddi hozirgina yo‘lga

chiqqandek, ja h d -la olg‘a qarab borishardi. N ihoyat, ular «Foytun

va otlar» deb ataluvchi qovoqxona yoniga yetib kelishdi; undan sal

o ‘tilgach, yo‘l ikkiga ayrilardi. Arava shu yerda to ‘xtadi.

Sayks O liverning qo‘lini qo‘yib yuborm agani holda, shosha-pisha

aravadan tushdi; bolani ko‘tarib olib yerga tushirdi-da, unga olayib qa-

rab, kafti bilan yon cho‘ntagini m a’nodor tarzda to ‘pillatib urib qo‘ydi.

- Xayr, bolakay, — dedi aravakash.

- A razlayapti, — javob qildi Sayks O liverni siltab. — D im oq-fi-

roq qilyaptilar! Voy tirm izag-ey! Q o‘yavering, parvo qilm ang bunga.

- Parvo qilam an deb ko‘zim uchib turganakanm i bunga! — deb

q o ‘ydi aravakash aravasiga o‘tirayotib. — L ekiniga bugun havo juda

ajoyib bo‘lyapti-da.

Shunday deb, u o ‘z yo‘liga ravona bo‘ldi.

Sayks to u xiyla olislab ketgunicha kutib tu rd i-d a, Oliverga agar

xohlasa atrofni tom osha qilib borishi m um kinligini aytib, uni olg‘a

yetaklab ketdi.

Q ovoqxonadan o ‘tilgach, u chapga, so‘ngra o ‘ngga burildi. U zoq

yurishdi — bog‘-rog‘li k atta-k atta q o ‘ra-yu hovlilar o rtd a qoldi;

yo‘lakay pivo ichish uchun bir zum gina to ‘xtashardi, shu tariqa oxi-

ri shaharga yetib kelishdi. Shu yerga yetganda O liverning qaysidir

uyning devoridagi yirik-yirik h arflar bilan «Xempton» deb yozilgan

lavhaga ko‘zi tushdi.

Bir necha soat sh ah ar atrofidagi dalalarda sandiroqlab yurishdi.

N ihoyat, shaharga qaytib, lavhasi o ‘chib ketgan ko‘h n a qovoqxonaga

kirishdi-da, o ‘choq oldiga joylashib, tushlik ovqat buyurishdi.