 Chapter 44. A time arrives for Nancy to redeem her pledge to Rosemaley. She fails. Adept as she was in all the arts of cunning and dissimulation, the girl Nancy could not wholly conceal the effect which the knowledge of the steps she had taken wrought upon her mind. She remembered that both the crafty Jew and the brutal Sykes had confided to her schemes which had been hidden from all others. In the full confidence that she was trustworthy and beyond the reach of their suspicion, vile as those schemes were, desperate as were their originators and bitter as were her feelings towards Fagan, who had led her step by step, deeper and deeper down into an abyss of crime and misery. Whence was no escape? Still there were times when even towards him she felt some relenting. Lest her disclosure should bring him within the iron grasp he had so long eluded and he should fall at last, richly as he merited such a fate by her hand. But these were the mere wanderings of her mind unable to wholly detach itself from old companions and associations. They were unable to fix itself steadily on one object and resolved not to be turned aside by any consideration her fears for Sykes would have been more powerful inducements to Mekul while there was yet time but she had stipulated that her secrets should be rigidly kept. She had dropped no clue which could lead to his discovery she had refused even for his sake a refuge from all the guilt and wretchedness that encompasses her and what more could she do? She was resolved. But all her mental struggles terminated in this conclusion they forced themselves upon her again and again and left their traces too. She grew pale and thin even within a few days at times she took no heed of what was passing before her or no part in conversations where she once would have been the loudest another time she laughed without merriment and was noisy without a moment afterwards she sat silent and dejected brooding with her head upon her hands while the very effort by which she roused herself told more forcibly than even those indications that she was ill at ease and her thoughts were occupied with matters very different and distant from those in the course of discussion by her companions The Sunday night and the bell of the nearest church struck the arse Sykes and the Jew were talking but they paused to listen the girl looked out from the low seat on which she crouched and listened to 11 an hour this side of midnight said Sykes raising the blind to look out and returning to his seat dark and heavy it is too good night for business this ah replied Fagan what a pity Bill my dear there's none quite ready to be done you're right for once replied Sykes gruffly pity for I'm under humour too Fagan sighed and shook his head despondingly we must make up for lost time when we've got things into a good train that's all I know said Sykes that's the way to talk my dear replied Fagan venturing to pat him on the shoulder it does me good to hear you does your good does it cry Sykes well so be it love Fagan as you relieved by even this concession you like yourself tonight Bill quite like yourself I don't feel myself when you lay that with an old claw on my shoulder so take it away said Sykes casting off the Jews hand if it makes you nervous Bill reminds you of being nabbed does it said Fagan determined not to be offended reminds me of being nabbed by a devil returned Sykes there never was another man as such a face as yours and I sit with your father and I suppose he's cinched in his grizzled red beard by this time unless you came straight from the Olden without any father at all but Twix do which I shouldn't wonder at a bit Fagan offered no reply to this compliment pulling Sykes by the sleeve pointed a finger towards Nancy but taken advantage of the foregoing conversation to put on a bullet and was now leaving the room hello cried Sykes Nance where's the girl going at this time of night not far what answers that retorted Sykes do you hear me I don't know where replied the girl then I do said Sykes more in the spirit of obstinacy because he had any real objection to the girl going where she listed nowhere sit down I'm not well I've told you that before rejoined the girl I want a breath of air put your head out of the window replied Sykes not enough there said the girl I want it in the street and you won't have it replied Sykes with which assurance he rose locked the door took the key out pulling a bullet from her head flung it up the top of an old press there said the robber no stop quietly where you are will you it's not such a matter as a bullet would keep me said the girl turning very pale what do you mean Bill do you know what you're doing know what I'm I'll cry to Sykes turning to Fagan she's out of a sense as you know well she dared talk to me in that way you'll drive me on there's something desperate in that of the girl placing both hands upon her breast as though to keep down by force some violent outbreak let me go with you this minute this instance no said Sykes tell him to let me go Fagan it would be better for him do you hear me cried Nancy stabbing her foot upon the ground hear you repeated Sykes turning round in his chair to confront her fine if I hear you for half a minute longer the dog shall have such a grip on your throat as I'll tear someone that screaming voice out what's come over you you jade what is it let me go said the girl with great earnestness then sitting herself down on the floor before the door she said Bill let me go you don't know what you're doing you don't indeed for only one hour do do cut my limbs off one by one cry Sykes seizing a roughly body arm if I don't think the girls start raving mad not to let me go not to let me go never never screamed a girl Sykes looked on for a minute watching his opportunity and suddenly pinioning her hands dragged her struggling and wrestling into a small room adjoining where he set himself on a bench and thrusting her into a chair held her down by force she struggled and implored by turns until twelve o'clock and struck and weary and exhausted ceased to contest the point any further with a caution backed by many o's to make no more efforts to go out that night Sykes left her to recover at leisure and rejoin Fagan whoo said the housebreaker wiping the perspiration on his face what a precious strange girl that is you may say that Bill replied Fagan thoughtfully you may say that what did she take it in her head to go out tonight for do you think I'm Sykes come you should know better than me what does it mean obstinacy woman's obstinacy I suppose my dear well I suppose it is grown Sykes thought I tamed her but she's as bad as ever worse said Fagan thoughtfully I never knew her like this for such a little cause nor I said Sykes I think she's got a touch of that fever in her blood and it won't come out eh like enough I'll let her a little blood without troubling the doctor if she's looking that way said Sykes Fagan nodded an expressive approval of this mode of treatment she was hanging about me all day and night too when I was stretched on my back in you like a black-hearted wolf as you are kept yourself aloof said Sykes we was too poor all the time and I think one way or another it worried and frightened her and that being shut up here so long made her restless eh said sit my dear reply the tune the whisper hush as the uttered these words the girl herself appeared and resumed her former seed her eyes were swollen and red she rocked herself to and fro tossed her head and after a little time burst out laughing well now she's on the other tack exclaimed Sykes turning a look of excessive surprise on his companion Fagan nodded to him to take no further notice just then and in a few minutes the girl subsided into her accustomed demeanor whispering Sykes that there was no fear of her relapsing Fagan took up his hat and bathed him good night he paused when he reached the room door and looking around asked if somebody would light him down the dark stairs light him down said Sykes was filling his pipe it's a pity you should break his neck himself and disappoint the sightseers show him a light now as he followed the old man downstairs on the candle when they reached the passage he laid his finger on his lip and drawing close to the girl suddenly whisper what is it Nancy dear what do you mean by the girl on the same turn the reason for all this replied Fagan if he pointed with his skinny forefinger up the stairs he's so odd with you he's a brute Nancy a brute beast why don't you well said the girl as Fagan paused with his mouth almost touching her ear and his eyes looking into hers no matter just now we'll talk of this again you have a friend in me Nancy a staunch friend I have the means at hand quiet and close if you want the revenge on those that treat you like a dog like a dog worse than his dog for he humours him sometimes come to me oh say come to me he is a mere hound of a day but you know me of old Nancy I know you well enough replied the girl without manifesting the least emotion good night she shrank back as Fagan offered to lay his hand on hers but said good night again in a steady voice and answering his parting look with a nod of intelligence closed the door between them Fagan walked towards his home and turned to all the thoughts that were working within his brain he had conceived the idea not from what had just passed though that had tended to confirm him but slowly and by degrees that Nancy weiried of the housebreakers brutality I conceived an attachment for some new friend her altered manner her repeated absence this one home a comparative indifference to the interest of the gang for which he had once been so zealous and added to these her desperate impatience to leave home that night and a particular hour all favoured the supposition and rendered it to him at least almost a matter of certainty the object of this new liking was not among his murmidons he would be a valuable acquisition with such an assistant as Nancy and must thus Fagan argued be secured without delay there was another undarker object to be gained Sykes knew too much and his ruffian taunts had not called Fagan the less because the wounds were hidden the girl must know well that if she shook him off she could never be safe from his fury that it would be surely reaped to the maiming of limbs or perhaps the loss of life on the object of her more recent fancy with a little persuasion thought Fagan what more likely than she would consent to poison him women have done such things and worse to secure the same object before now there would be the dangerous villain the man I hate gone another secured in his place and my influence over the girl with the knowledge of this crime tobacco, unlimited these things passed through the mind of Fagan during the short time he sat alone in the house breakers room and with them uppermost in his thoughts he had taken the opportunity afterwards afforded him of sounding the girl in the broken hints he threw out at parting there was no expression of surprise no assumption of an inability to understand his meaning the girl clearly comprehended it a glance at parting showed that but perhaps she would recall from the plot to take the life of Sykes that was one of the chief ends to be attained how thought Fagan as he crept on with can I increase my influence with her what new powers can I acquire such brains are fertile in expedience if without extracting a confession from herself he'd later watch discover the object of her altered regard and threaten to reveal the whole history to Sykes of whom she stood in no common fear and unless she entered into his designs could he not secure her compliance I can, said Fagan almost aloud she does not refuse me then not for a life, not for a life I have at all the means are ready and should be set to work I shall have you yet he cast a dark look and threatening motion of the hand towards a spot where he had left the boulder villain and went on his way busying his bony hands in the folds of his tattered garment he wrenched tightly in his grasp as though there were a hated enemy crushed with every motion of his fingers End of Chapter 44 Chapter 45 of Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 45 now a clay pole is employed by Fagan on a secret mission the old man was up at the times next morning and waited impatiently for the appearance of his new associate who after a delay that seemed interminable at length presented himself and commenced a voracious assault on the breakfast Balter, said Fagan, drawing up a chair and seating himself opposite Maurice Balter Well here I am, returned now What's the matter, don't you ask me to do anything till I've done anything that's a great fault in this place you never get enough time over your meals You can talk as you eat can't you, said Fagan cursing his dear young friend's greediness from the very bottom of his heart Oh yeah, I can talk, get on better when I talk said Noah, cutting a monstrous slice of bread Where's Charlotte? Out, said Fagan I sent her out this morning with the other young woman because I wanted us to be alone Oh, said Noah I wish you'd all really make some buttered toast first Well, talk away, you won't interrupt me There seemed, indeed, no great fear of anything interrupting him as he had evidently sat down with the determination to do a great deal of business You did well yesterday, my dear, said Fagan Beautiful six shillings and nightmares hate me on the very first day The kitchen lay will be a fortune to you Don't you forget to add the three pint pots and a milk can, said Mr Bolter No, no, my dear, the pint pots were great slugs for genius but the milk can was a perfect masterpiece Pretty well, I think for a beginner remarked Mr Bolter complacently The poster took off airy railings and the milk can was standing by itself outside a public house Thought it might get rusty with the rain or catch cold, you know Fagan affected to laugh very heartily Mr Bolter, having had his laugh out, took a series of large bites which finished his first hunk of bread and butter and assisted himself to a second I want you, Bolter, said Fagan, leaning over the table to do a piece of work for me, my dear, that needs a great care and caution I say, rejoin Bolter, you don't go shoving me into danger or send me to any more of your police officers that don't suit me at dump And so I tell you, there's not the smallest danger in it Not the very smallest, said the Jew It's only to dodge a woman An old woman demanded Mr Bolter A young one replied, Fagan I could do that pretty well, I know, said Bolter I was a regular cunning sneak when I was at school What am I to dodge her for, not to No, not to do anything, but to tell me where she goes Who she sees, and if possible what she says To remember the street, if there is a street Or the house, if it is a house And to bring me back all the information you can What you give me, asked Noah, Setting down his cup and looking at his employer eagerly in the face If you do it well, a pound, my dear, One pound, said Fagan, wishing to Interest him in the centre as much as possible And that's where I never go, yet for any job of work Where there wasn't valuable consideration to be gained Who is she? inquired Noah One of us? Oh, Lord, cried Noah, curling up his nose You're doubtful of her, are you? She has found out some new friends, my dear And I must know who they are, replied Fagan I see, said Noah, just to have the pleasure of knowing them They're respectable people, eh? I'm your man I knew you would be, cried Fagan Elated by the success of his proposal Of course, of course, replied Noah Where is she? Where am I to wait for her? Where am I to go? All that, my dear, you shall hear from me I'll point her out that the proper time, said Fagan You keep ready and leave the rest to me That night on the next, and the next again The spy sat booted and equipped in his carter's dress Ready to turn out at a word from Fagan Six nights passed, six long weary nights On each, Fagan came home with a disappointed face And briefly intimated it was not yet time On the seventh, he returned earlier And with an exaltation he could not conceal It was Sunday She goes abroad tonight, said Fagan And on the right hand, I'm sure, for she's been alone all day And the man she is afraid of will not be back much before daybreak Come with me, quick Noah started up without saying a word For the Jew was in a state of such intense excitement That it infected him They left the house, stealthily and hurrying through the labyrinth of streets Arrived at length before a public house Which Noah recognised as the same in which he had slept On the night of his arrival in London It was past eleven o'clock and the door was closed It opened softly on its hinges as Fagan gave a low whistle They entered without noise and the door was closed behind them Scarcely venturing to whisper but submitting a dumb show for words Fagan and the young Jew admitted them pointed out the pane of glass to Noah And signed to him to climb up and observe the person in the adjoining room Is that a woman? He asked scarcely above his breath Fagan nodded yes Can't see her face well, whispered Noah She's looking down and the candle is behind her Stay there, whispered Fagan He signed to Barney who withdrew In an instant the lad entered the room adjoining And under pretence the snuffing the candle moved it in the required position And speaking to the girl caused her to raise her face I'll see her now, cried the spy Plainly, I should know her among a thousand He hastily descended as the room door opened and the girl came out Fagan drew him behind a small partition which was curtained off And they held their breaths as she passed within a few feet of their place of concealment And emerged by the door at which they had entered He cried the lad who held the door down Noah exchanged a look with Fagan and darted out To the left, whispered the lad Take the left hand and keep the other side He did so and by the light of the lamp saw the girl's retreating figure Already some distance before him He advanced as near as he considered prudent And kept on the opposite side of the street the better to observe her motions She looked nervously round twice or thrice And once stopped to let two men who were following close behind her pass on She seemed to gather courage as she advanced And to walk with a steadier and firmer step The spy preserved the same relative distance between them And followed with his eye upon her End of Chapter 45 Chapter 46 The Appointment Kept The church clocks chime three quarters past eleven as two figures emerged on London Bridge One which advanced with a swift and rapid step Is that of a woman who looked eagerly about her as though in quest Of some expected object The other figure was that of a man who slunk along in the deepest shadow he could find And at some distance accommodated his pace to hers Stopping whenever she stopped Unless she moved again creeping stealthily on But never allowing himself in the ardour of his pursuit To gain upon her footsteps Thus they crossed the bridge from Middlesex to the Surrey Shore When the woman apparently disappointed in her anxious scrutiny of the foot passengers Turned back The movement was sudden but he who watched her Was not thrown off his guard by it For shrinking into one of the recesses which surmounted the piers of the bridge And leaning over the paracet that better concealed his figure He suffered her to pass on the opposite pavement When she was about the same distance in advance as she had been before He slipped quietly down and followed her again At nearly the centre of the bridge she stopped The man stopped too It was a very dark night The day had been unfavourable And at that hour and place there were few people stirring Such as there were hurried quickly past Very possibly without seeing But certainly without noticing either the woman Or the man who kept her in view The appearance was not calculated to attract the importunate Regards of such London's destitute population As chance to take their way over the bridge that night In search of some cold arch or doorless hovel Wherein to lay their heads They stood there in silence neither speaking Nor spoken to by anyone who passed The mist hung over the river Deepening the red glare of the fires that burned upon the small craft Moored off the different wharfs And rendering darker and more indistinct The murky buildings on the banks The old smoke-stained storehouses on either side Rows heavy in dull from the dense mass of roofs And gables and thrown sternly upon water Too black to reflect even their lumbering shapes The tower of old Saint Saviour's church And the spire of Saint Magnus So long the giant waters of the ancient bridge And the thickly scattered spires of churches above Were nearly all hidden from sight The girl had taken a few restless turns to and fro Closely watched me mourn by her hidden observer When the heavy bell of Saint Paul's told For the death of another day Midnight had come upon the crowded city The palace, the night cellar, the jail, the madhouse The chambers of birth and death of health and sickness The rigid face of the corpse And the calm sleep of the child Midnight was upon them all The hour had not struck two minutes When a young lady accompanied by a grey-haired gentleman Alighted from a hackney carriage Within a short distance to the bridge And having dismissed the vehicle Walked straight towards it They had scarcely set foot upon its pavement When the girl started And immediately made towards them They walked onward looking about them In the air of persons who entertained Some very slight expectation Which had little chance of being realised When they were suddenly joined by this new associate They halted with an exclamation of surprise But suppressed it immediately For a man in the garments of a countryman Came close up, brushed against him Indeed, at that precise moment Not here, said Nancy hurriedly I'm afraid to speak to you here While you're out of the public road Down on the steps, young lady As she uttered these words And indicated with her hand The direction of which she wished to proceed The countryman looked round and roughly asking What they took up the whole pavement for Passed on The steps to which the girl had pointed Were those which on the Surrey bank And on the same side of the river Of St. Saviour's church Form a landing of stairs from the river To this spot the man The appearance of a countryman Hasting unobserved After a moment's survey of the place Began to descend These stairs are a part of the bridge They consist of three flights Just below the end of the second going down The stone wall on the left Terminates in an ornamental pilaster Facing towards the Thames At this point the lower steps widen So that a person turning that angle Of the wall is necessarily unseen By any others on the stairs Who chance to be above him If only a step The countryman looked hastily round When he reached this point And as there seemed no better place of concealment And with the tide being out There was plenty of room He slipped aside with his back to the pilaster And there waited Pretty certain they would come no lower And that even if he could not hear what was said He could follow them again with safety So tidily stole the time At this lonely place And so eager was the spy to penetrate The motives of an interview so different From what he had been led to expect That he more than once gave the matter up for lost He persuaded himself That either they had stopped far above Or had resorted to some entirely different spot To hold their mysterious conversation He was on the point of emerging From his hiding place And regaining the road above When he heard the sound of footsteps And directly afterwards the voices Were almost close at his ear He drew himself straight up Right against the wall And scarcely breathing listened attentively This is far enough said a voice Which was evidently that of a gentleman I will not suffer the young lady to go any further Many people will have distrusted you too much To have come even so far But you see I am willing to humor you To humor me cried the voice of the girl To whom he had followed You're considerate indeed sir To humor me well well it's no matter Why for what sir the gentleman in the kinder tone For what purpose can you have brought us To this strange place Why not have let me speak to you Above there where it is light And there is something steering Instead of bringing to this dark and dismal whole Told you before replied Nancy That I was afraid to speak to you there I don't know why it is for the girl shuddering But I have such a fear And dread upon me tonight I can hardly stand Fear of what asked the gentleman Who seemed to pity her I scarcely know of what Replied the girl I wish I did Horrible thoughts of death and shrouds With blood upon them And a fear that has made me burn as if I was on fire It's been upon me all day I was reading a book tonight To wild the time away And the same things came into the print Imagination said the gentleman Soothing her No imagination replied the girl In a horse voice I swear I saw a coffin written on every page Of the book in large black letters I am they carried one close to me In the streets tonight There's nothing unusual in that said the gentleman They pass me often Real ones rejoined the girl This was not There was something so uncommon in her manner That the flesh of the concealed listener crept As he heard the girl utter these words And the blood chilled within him He never experienced a greater relief Than hearing the sweet voice of the young lady As she begged her to be calm And not allow herself to become The prey of such fearful fancy Speak to her kindly Said the young lady to a companion Poor creature, she seems to need it You haughty religious people Would have held their heads up to see me As I am tonight and preached to flames And vengeance cried the girl Oh dear lady, why aren't you Those who claim to be God's own folks As gentle and kind as poor wretches As you Who having youth and beauty And all that they have lost Might be a little proud Instead of so much humbler Ah said the gentleman A Turk turns his face after washing it well To the east When he says his prayers These good people after giving their faces Such a rub against the world Is to take the smiles off Turn with no less regularity To the darkest side of heaven And the Pharisee Commend me to the first These words appear to be addressed To the young lady And were perhaps uttered with the view Of affording Nancy time to recover herself The gentleman shortly afterwards Addressed himself to her You were not here last Sunday night He said I couldn't come reply Nancy I was kept by force By whom? You were not suspected of holding any communication With anybody on the subject Which has brought us here tonight I hope Asked the old gentleman No replied the girl shaking her head It's not very easy for me to leave him Unless he knows why I couldn't give him a drink of Lorden Before I come away Did he awake before you returned Inquire the gentleman No, neither he nor any of them suspect me Good said the gentleman Now listen to me I am ready replied the girl This young lady the gentleman began Has communicated to me And to some other friends who could be safely trusted What she told her nearly a fortnight since I confess to you that I had my doubts at first Whether you were to be implicitly relied upon But now I firmly believe you are I am said the girl earns me I repeat that I firmly believe it To prove to you that I am disposed to Trust you I tell you without reserve I am opposed to extort the secret Whatever it may be From the fear of this man monk If said the gentleman He cannot be secured Or if secured cannot be acted upon As we wished You must deliver up the Jew Fagin Cried the girl The man must be delivered up by you Said the gentleman I will not do it I will never do it According to me I will never do that You will not Said the gentleman who seemed fully prepared For this answer never returned the girl Tell me why For one reason rejoined the girl firmly For one reason that the lady knows And will stand by me I know she will For I have a promise And for this other reason Besides that bad life as he has led I have led a bad life too There are many of us who have kept the same And I will not turn upon them Who might any of them have Returned upon me but didn't Bad as they are Then said the gentleman quickly As if this had been the point He had been aiming to attain Put monks into my hands And leave him to me to deal with Or if he turns against the others I promise you that in that case If the truth is forced from him There the matter will rest There must be circumstances In Oliver's little history Which it would be painful to drag Before the public eye And if the truth is once solicited They shall go scot-free And if it is not suggested The girl then pursued the gentleman This fagant shall not be brought To justice without your consent In such a case I could show you reasons I think which would induce you to yield it Have I the lady's promise Of that asked the girl You have replied Rose My true and faithful pledge Monks would never learn how you knew What you do said the girl after a short pause Never replied the gentleman The intelligence should be brought To bear upon him That he could never even guess I have been a liar And among liars from a little child Said the girl after another interval of silence But I will take your words After receiving an assurance From both that she might safely do so She proceeded in a voice so low That it was often difficult For the listener to discover Even the purport of what she said She described by name's situation The public house when she had been Followed that night From the manner in which she occasionally paused It appeared as if the gentleman Were making some hasty notes Of the information she communicated When she had thoroughly explained The localities of the place The best position from which to watch it Without exciting observation The light and hour on which Monks Was most in the habit of frequenting it She seemed to consider for a few moments The purpose of recalling his features And appearance More forcibly to her recollection He is tall said the girl Strongly made man but not stout As a lurking walk And as he walks constantly Looks over his shoulder First on one side and then on the other Don't forget that for his eyes Are sunk in his head so much deeper Than any other man's That you might almost tell him by that alone His face is dark Like his hair and eyes Although he can't be more Than six or eight and twenty Withered and haggard His lips are often discoloured And disfigured with the marks of teeth For he has desperate fits And sometimes even bites his hands And covers them with wounds Why do you start, said the girl Stopping suddenly A gentleman replied in a hurried manner That he was not conscious of having done so And begged her to proceed Part of this, said the girl I'm drawn out from other people at the house I tell you of For I've only seen him twice And both times he was covered in a large cloak I think that's all I can give you to know him by Stay though, she added Upon his throat so high That you can see a part of it below his neck Achieve when he turns his face When he turns his face There is a broad red mark Like a burn or a scold, cried the gentleman How is this, said the girl You know him The young lady added a cry of surprise And for a few moments There was so still a listener Could distinctly hear them breathe I think I do Said the gentleman, breaking silence I should, by your description We shall see Many people are singularly like each other It may not be the same As he expressed himself to this effect And with the assumed carelessness He took a step too nearer The concealed spy As the latter could tell from the distinctness With which he heard him mutter It must be he Now, he said, returning So it seemed by the sound To the spot where he was stood before You have given us most valuable Assistance, young woman And I wish you to be the better Off for it What can I do to serve you Nothing, replied Nancy He will not persist in saying That, rejoined the gentleman With a voice of emphasis of kindness That might have touched a much harder And more obdurate heart Think now, tell me Nothing, sir, rejoined the girl weeping You do nothing to help me I am past all hope indeed You put yourself beyond the pale, Said the gentleman Past has been a dreary waste with you Of youthful energies miss spent And such priceless treasures lavished As the creator bestows but once And never grants again But for the future you may hope Or do not say that it's in our power To offer you peace of heart and mind Or that must come as you seek it But a quiet asylum Are there in England Or if you fear to remain here In some foreign country It is not only within the compass of our ability But our most anxious wish to secure you Before the dawn of morning Before this river wakes To the first glimpse of daylight You should be placed as entirely Beyond the reach of your former associates And leave as an utter absence Of all trace behind you As if you were to disappear from the earth This moment Come, I would not help you Go back to exchange one word With any old companion Or take one look at any old haunt Or breathe the very air which is pestilence And death to you Quit them all while there is still time And opportunity She will be persuaded now, cried the young lady She hesitates, I'm sure I fear not, my dear, said the gentleman No, sir, I do not reply to the girl After a short struggle I am chained to my old life I loathe it and hate it now But I cannot leave it I must have gone too far to turn back And yet, I don't know For if you had spoken to me some time ago I should have laughed it off But, she said, looking hastily round His fear comes over me again I must go home Home, repeated the young lady With a great stress upon the word Home, lady, rejoined the girl To such a home as I have raised For myself with the work of my whole life Let us part, I shall be watched or seen Go, go If I have done you any service All I ask is that you leave me And let me go my way alone Ah, it's useless, said the gentleman with the sigh We compromise our safety, perhaps, by staying here We may have detained her longer Than she expected already Yes, yes, urged the girl You have What, cried the young lady Can be the end of this poor creature's life What, repeated the girl Look before you, lady, look at that dark water How many times do you read Of such as I who spring into the tide And leave no living thing to care for Or bewail them It may be years hence Or it may be only months But I shall come to that at last Do not speak thus, pray Return the young lady sobbing It will never reach your ears, lady And God forbid such horrors Shouldn't reply the girl Good night, good night The gentleman turned away The purse, cried the young lady Take it for my sake That you may have some resources In an hour of need and trouble No, replied the girl I've not done this for money Let me have that to think of And yet give me something that you have worn I should like to have something No, not a ring, your gloves will handkerchief Anything I can keep That's having belonged to you, sweet lady There, bless you, God bless you Good night, good night The violent agitation of the girl And the apprehension of some discovery Which would subject her to all usage and violence Seemed to determine the gentleman To leave her as she requested The sound of retreating footsteps Were audible, and the voices ceased The two figures of the young lady And her companion soon afterwards Appeared upon the bridge They stopped at the summit of the stairs Hark, cried the young lady, listening Did she call? I thought I heard her voice I thought I heard her voice I thought I heard her voice No, my love, replied Mr Brown Her look and sadly back She has not moved, and will not Till we are gone Rose mainly lingered, but the old gentleman Do her arms through his, and let her With gentle force away As they disappeared, the girl sank down Nearly at a full length upon one of the Stone stairs, and vented The anguish of her heart in bitter tears After a time she rose, and with The evil and tottering steps ascended The street The astonished listener remained Motionless on his post for some minutes Afterwards, and having ascertained With many cautious glances around him That he was again alone Crept slowly from his hiding place And returned stealthily And in the shade of the wall In the same manner as he had descended Peeping out more than once When he reached the top Make sure that he was unobserved Now a clay-pole darted away At his utmost speed And made for the Dune's house As fast as his legs would carry him End of Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Of Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens This LibriVox recording is in the Public domain Chapter 47 Fatal Consequences It was only two hours before daybreak That time which in the autumn of the year May be truly called the dead of night When the streets are silent and deserted When even sounds are picked to slumber And profligacy and riot have Stacked home to dream It was at this still and silent hour That Fagan sat watching in his old lair With a face so distorted And pale An eye so red in bloodshot And he looked less like a man Than like some hideous phantom Moist from the grave And worried by an evil spirit He sat crouching over a cold hearth Wrapped in an old torn coverlet With his face turned towards a wasting candle That stood upon a table by his side His right hand was raised to his lips And as absorbed in thought He hit his long black nails He disclosed among his toothless gums A few such fangs As should have been a dog's or a rat's Stretched upon a mattress on the floor Lay Noah Claypole, fast asleep Towards him the old man Sometimes directed his eyes for an instant Then brought them back again to the candle Which, with a long burnt wick Dripping almost double And hot grease falling down In clots upon the table Plainly showed that his thoughts Were busy elsewhere Indeed they were Mortification at the overthrow Of his notable scheme, hatred of the girl Who dared to paltle with strangers An utter distrust of the sincerity Of her refusal to yield him up Bitter disappointment Than the loss of his revenge on Sykes The fear of detection And ruin and death And a fierce and deadly rage Kindled by all These were the passionate considerations Which, following close upon each other With rapid and ceaseless whirl Shocks with the brain of Fagum As every evil thought And blackest purpose Lay working at his heart He sat without changing his attitude In the least Or appearing to take the smallest Heed of Tyre Until his quick ear seemed to be attracted By a footstep in the street Last he muttered, wiping dry His fevered mouth at last The bell rang gently as he spoke He crept upstairs to the door And presently returned accompanied by a man Muffled to the chin Who carried a bundle under one arm Sitting down and throwing back his outer coat The man displayed The burly frame of Sykes There, he said, laying the bundle on the table Take care of that Do the most you can with it It's been trouble enough to get Thought it should have been here three hours ago Fagum laid his hand upon the bundle And locking it in the cupboard Sat down again without speaking But he did not take his eyes off the robber For an instant during this action And now that they sat over Against each other face to face He looked fixedly at him With his lips quivering so violently And his face so altered by the emotions Which had mastered him And the housebreaker involuntarily Drew back his chair And surveyed him with a look of real fright What now, cried Sykes Why do you look at a man so full? Fagum raised his right hand And shook his trembling finger in the air But his passion was so great That a part of speech was for the moment gone Damn me, said Sykes Feeling his breath with a look of alarm He's gone mad, I must look to myself here No, no, rejoined Fagum Finding his voice It's not you, you're not the person Bill I've no fault to find with you Oh, you haven't, have you? Oh, you haven't, have you? Said Sykes, looking sternly at him And ostentationously passing a pistol Into a more convenient pocket That's lucky for one of us Which one it is, that don't matter I've got to tell you Bill, said Fagum Toward his chair nearer We make you worse than me And I returned the robber With an incredulous air Tell away, look sharp, or nance Or think I'm lost Lost, cried Fagum We've already well settled that In our own mind already Sykes looked with an aspect Of great perplexity into the Jew's face I'm reading those satisfactory Explanation of the riddle there Clenched his coat collar in his huge hand And shook him soundly Beat will you, if you don't It should be for want of breath Open your mouth and say What you've got to say in plain words Out with it, you thundering old cur Out with it As he was lying there, Fagum began Sykes turned round to where Noah was sleeping As if he had not previously observed him Well, he said Resuming his forward position Suppose that lad pursued Fagum Was to peach To blow upon us all For seeking out the right folks for the purpose And then having a meeting with him In the street to paint our likenesses Describe every mark that they might know us by And the crib where we might be Most easily taken Posey was to do all this And besides to blow upon a plant We'd been in more or less of his own fancy Not grab-trapped Tried earwig by the parson And brought it onto bread and water But of his own fancy To please his own taste Stealing out at nights to find those most interested Against us and pitching to them Do you hear me? cried the Jew His eyes flashing with rage Suppose he did all this, what then? What then? replied Sykes He was left alive till I came I'd grind his skull under the eye and ear of my boot It was as many grains as there are hairs upon his head What if I did it? cried Fagum Almost in a yell I that know so much and could hang so many Besides myself I then replied Sykes clenching his teeth And turning white at the mere suggestion I'd do something in the jail That'd get me put in irons And if I was tried along with you In the open court and beat your brains Out of four people I should have such strength From that other robber Poising his brawny arm And I'd smash your edges If loaded wagon had gone over it You would? Would I? said the icebreaker Try me If it was Charlie or the Dodger Or Bet or I don't care who Replied Sykes impatiently Whoever it was I'd serve him the same Fagum looked hard at the robber He'd be silent, stooped over the bed upon the floor And shook the sleeper to rouse him Sykes lent forward in his chair Looking on with his hands upon his knees As if wondering much of what this questioning And preparation was to end in Bolter, bolter Poor lad said Fagum Looking up with an expression Of devilish anticipation And speaking slowly with marked emphasis He's tired Tired with watching for so long Watching for a bill What do you mean now Sykes Drawering back Fagum made no answer But bending over the sleeper again Halled him into a sitting posture When his assumed name had been repeated Several times, Noah rubbed his eyes And giving a heavy yawn Looked sleepily about him Tell me now the gain Once again, just for him to hear Said the tune pointing to Sykes As he spoke Tell you what asked the sleeper Noah shaking himself Pettishly What about Nancy Said Fagum, clutching Sykes By the wrist as if to prevent his leaving The house before he had heard enough You followed her Yes To London Bridge Yes, but she met two people So she did A gentleman and a lady That she'd gone to of her own accord Before who asked her to give up all her Dolls and monks first Which she did And to describe him which she did And to tell her what house it was that we meet at And go to Which she did And where it could be best to watch from Which she did And at what time the people went there Which she did She told it all every word Without a threat, without a murmur She did that she not cried Fagum Half mad with fury Right replied Noah, scratching his head That's just what it was What did they say about last Sunday? Last Sunday Replied Noah, considering I told you that before Again, tell her again cried Fagum Tightening his grasp on Sykes And brandishing his other hand aloft As the foam flew from his lips They asked her, said Noah As he grew more weightful Seemed to have a dawning perception Whose Sykes was They asked her why she didn't come last Sunday As she promised She said, she couldn't Why? Tell him that Because she was forcibly kept at home by Bill The man she had told him of before Replied Noah What more of him cried Fagum What more of the man she had told them of before Tell him that, tell him that Why? That she couldn't very easily get out of doors Unless he knew where she was going to Said Noah And so for the first time she went to see the lady She made me laugh when she said it That she did She gave him a drink of Lordnam Hell's fire Cried Sykes Let me go Flinging the old man from him He rushed from the room and darted wildly And furiously up the stairs Bill cried Fagum Following her hastily A word, only a word Would not have been exchanged But that the housebreaker was unable to open the door I wish he was expending Fruitless oaths and violence When the Jew came panting up Let me out said Sykes Don't speak to me, it's not safe Let me out I'll say Hearing me speak a word which went Fagum Laying his hand upon the lock You won't be, well replied the other You won't be too violent Bill The day was breaking There was life enough for the men to see Each other's faces They exchanged one brief glance There was fire in the eyes of both Which could not be mistaken I mean said Fagum Showing that he felt all disguised Was now useless Not too violent for safety Be crafty Bill and not too bold Sykes made no reply Pulling open the door of which Fagum had turned the lock Dashed into the silent streets Without one pause Or moments consideration Without once turning his head To the right or left Or raising his eyes to the sky Or lowering them to the ground Looking straight before him With savage resolution His teeth so tightly compressed That the strained jaw seemed starting Through the skin The robber held on his headlong course Nor muttered a word nor relaxed a muscle Until he reached his own door He opened it softly with a key Strowed lightly up the stairs And entering his own room Double-locked the door And lifting a heavy table against it Drew back the curtain of the bed The girl was lying half-dressed upon it He had roused her from her sleep For she rosed herself With a hurried and startled look Get up! said the man It you, Bill, said the girl With an expression of pleasure at his return It is! was the reply Get up! There was a candle burning But the man hastily drew it from the candlestick And hurled it under the grate Seeing the faint grey light of early day Without the girl rose To undraw the curtain Let it be! said Sykes Thrusting his hand before her There's enough light for what I've got to do Bill! said the girl In the low voice of alarm Why do you look like that at me? The robber sat regarding her With dilated nostrils And heaving breast And then grasping her by the head and throat Dragged her into the middle of the room And looking once towards the door Placed his heavy hand upon her mouth Bill! Bill! said the girl Wrestling with the strength of mortal fear I won't scream or cry not once Hear me speak to me Tell me what have I done? You know you she-devil Return the robber suppressing his breath You will watch tonight And spare my life For the love of heaven as I spared yours Will join the girl clinging to him Bill! Dear Bill, you cannot have the heart To kill me. I'll think of all I've Given up only this one night for you You shall have time to think and save Yourself this crime. I will not lose My hold, you cannot throw me off, Bill Bill, for dear God's sake For your own, for mine, stop Before you spill my blood I have been true to you, upon my guilty Soul I have. The man Struggled violently to release his arms But those of the girl were clasped around His, and terror as he would He could not tear them away Bill! cried the girl, striving To lay her head upon his breast The gentleman and that dear lady told Me tonight of a home in some foreign Country where I could end my days In solitude and peace Let me see them again and beg them On my knees to show the same mercy And goodness to you, and let us both Leave this dreadful place Far apart, lead better lives And forget how we have lived Except in prayers And never see each other more It is never too late to repent They told me so. I feel it now But we must have time, a little A little time The housebreak of freed one arm And grasped his pistol A certainty of immediate detection If he fired, flashed across his mind Even in the midst of his fury And he beat it twice With all the force he could summon Upon the upturned face that almost Touched his own She staggered and fell, nearly Blinded with a blood that rained down For a deep gash in her forehead But raising herself with difficulty On her knees, drew from her bosom A white handkerchief Rose male his own And holding it up in her folded hands As high towards heaven as her feeble Strength would allow Breathe one prayer for mercy And make her It was a ghastly figure to look upon The murderer Stagging backward to the wall And shutting out the sight with his hand Seized a heavy club And struck her down End of Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Of Oliver Twist By Charles Dickens His LibriVox recording is in the Public Domain Chapter 48 The Flight of Sykes Of all bad deeds That under the cover of darkness Had been committed within London's wide bounds Since night hung over it That was the worst Of all the horrors that rose With an ill scent upon the morning air That was the foulest and most cruel The sun, the bright sun That brings back not light alone But new life and hope And freshness to man In clear and radiant glory Through costly coloured glass And paper mended window Through cathedral dome In rotten crevice It shed its equal ray It lighted up the room where the murdered woman lay It did He tried to shut it out but it would stream in If the sight had been a ghastly one In the dull morning What was it now in that brilliant light? He had not moved He had been afraid to stir Had been a moan and a motion of a hand And when the terror added to rage He had struck and struck again Once he threw a rug over it But it was worse to fancy the eyes And imagine them moving towards him Had to see them glaring upward As if watching the reflection Of the pool of gall That quivered and danced In the sunlight on the ceiling He had plucked it off again And there was the body Mere flesh and blood no more But such flesh And so much blood He struck a light Kindled a fire and thrust the club into it There was hair upon the end Which blazed and shrunk into a light cinder And caught by the air Whirled up the chimney Even that frightened him Sturdy as he was But he held the weapon till it broke And then piled it on the coals To burn away and smolder to ashes He washed himself In his clothes There were spots that would not be removed But he cut the pieces out and burnt them How those stains were dispersed About the room The very feet of the dog were bloody All this time He had never once turned his back Upon the corpse No, not for a moment Such preparations completed He moved backward towards the door Dragging the dog with him As he should soil his feet anew To carry out new evidence of the crime into the streets He shut the door softly Locked it Took the key and left the house He crossed over and glanced up at the window To be sure that nothing was visible For the outside There was the curtain still drawn But she would have opened to admit The light she never saw again It lay nearly under there He knew that God how the sun poured down upon the very spot The glance was instantaneous It was a relief to have got free of the room He whistled on the dog And walked rapidly away He went through Islington Strolled up the hill at Highgate On which stands the stone In honour of Whittington Turned down to Highgate Hill Unsteady of purpose An uncertain where to go Struck off to the right again Almost as soon as he began to descend it Taking the footpath across the fields Skirted Kayon Wood And so came on Hampstead Heath Traversing the hollow By the Vale of Heath He mounted the opposite bank And crossing a road which joins the villages Of Hampstead and Highgate Made along the remaining portion Of the Heath to the fields at Northend In one of which he laid himself Down under a hedge and slept Soon he was up again in a way Not far into the country Back towards London by the High Road Then back again And over another part of the same ground As he had already traversed Then wandering up and down in fields And lying on ditches brinks to rest That was a good place Not far off and out of most people's way There that he directed his steps Running sometimes And sometimes with a strange perversity Loitering at the snail's pace Or stopping altogether And idly breaking the hedges with the stick But when he got there All the people he met The very children at the doors Seemed to view him with suspicion Back he turned again Without the courage to purchase Bit or drop Though he had toasted no foods for many hours And once more he lingered on the Heath Uncertain where to go He wandered over miles and miles of ground Still came back to the old place Morning and noon had passed And the day was on the wane And still he rambled to and fro Up and down Round and round Still lingered about the same spot And last he got away And shaped his course for Hatfield It was nine o'clock at night When the man quite tired out From the dog limping and laying From the unaccustomed exercise Turned down the hill by the church Of a quiet village And plodding along the little street Crept into a small public house Whose scanty life had guided them To the spot It was a fire in the tap room As some country labourers were drinking Before it They made room for the stranger But he sat down in the furthest corner And ate and drank alone Or rather with his dog To whom he cast a morsel of food From time to time The conversation of the men assembled Here turned upon the neighbouring land And farmers, when those topics were exhausted All the age of some old man Had been buried in the previous Sunday The young men present, considering them very old And the old men present Declaring him to have been quite young Not older One white-haired grandfather Said that he was Within ten or fifteen years Life left him at least If he had taken care If he had taken care There was nothing to attract attention Or excite alarm in this After paying his reckoning Sat silent and unnoticed in his corner And had almost dropped asleep When he was half-awaken By the noisy entrance of a newcomer This was an antique fellow Half-peddler, half-mounted And travelled about the country on foot To vend homes, Strops, razors, wash balls Medicine for dogs and horses Cheek perfumery Cosmetic and such-like wares Which he carried in a case slung To his back. His entrance Was the signal for various Homely jokes with the countrymen Which slackered not until he Made his supper and opened his Box of treasures which he ingeniously Contrived to unite business With amusement. And what be that stuff? Good to eat, Harry, asked a gritty Countryman pointing to some Composition cakes in one corner This, said the fellow, producing one This is the invaluable Composition for removing all sorts Of stain, rust, dirt, mildew, Spick, speck, spot or spatter Silk satin linen, cambered Cloth, crepe, stuffed carpet Marina, muslin, bombazine Or woolen stuff, wine stains Fruit stains, beer stains Water stains, paint stains, Pitch stains, any stains All come out at one rub With the infallible and invaluable Composition. The lady stains her honour She's cured at once for its poison A gentleman wants to prove this He has only need to bolt one little Square and he's put it beyond Question. But it's quite as satisfactory as the Pistol bullet and a great deal Naster in the flavour. Consequently There's more credit in taking it. One penny a square with all these Virtues, one penny a square There were two buyers directly And more of the listeners plainly Hesitated. The vendor Creased in locosity. It's all brought up as fast as It can be made. For 14 water mills, 16 engines And a galvanic battery always Working upon it. They can't make it fast enough But the men work so hard That they die off. And the widows Is pensioned directly with a 20 pound A year for each of the children And a premium of 50 for twins One penny a square Two and a half pence is all the same And four farthings Received with joy One penny a square Wine stains, fruit stains, beer stains Water stains, paint stains Pitch stains, mud stains, blood stains Here's a stain upon the heart Of a gentleman in a company And I'll take it clean out Before he's all in me a pint of ale Ha! cried Sykes starting up Give that back. I'll take it clean out sir. Reply to mad We can get a company before we can come across the room to get it Gentlemen all observe the dark stain On his gentleman's hat No wider than the shilling Thicker than a half crown Wine stain, fruit stain, beer stain Water stain, paint stain, pitch stain Mud stain, more blood stain The man got no further For Sykes with a hideous implication Over through the table Tearing the hat from him Burst out of the house With the same perversity of feeling And your resolution that had fastened upon him Despite himself all day The murderer finding that he was not followed And that they most probably considered him Some drunken, sullen fellow Turned back up the town And getting out of the glare of the lamps of a stagecoach That was standing in the street Was walking past when he recognised the mile from London And saw that it was standing At the little post office He almost knew what was to come But he crossed over and listened The guard was standing at the door Waiting for the letter bag He was standing at the door Waiting for the letter bag Will you down here that bag It weren't ready the night before last This won't do you no Anything new up in town Ben asked the gamekeeper Drawing back to the window shutters The better to admire the horses No, nothing an eye knows on Replied the man pulling on his gloves Corns up a little Heard till called murder too Down Spitfield's way I don't reckon much upon it Looking out of the window And the dreadful murder it was Was it Sir which joined the guard Touching his hat A woman replied the gentleman It is supposed Now Ben replied the coachman Impatiently Down here that bag said the guard You got to sleep in there Come in cried the officekeeper Running out Come in growled the guard And sows the young woman a property Of gold or rides The horn sounded a few cheerful notes And the coach was gone Sykes remained standing in the street Apparently unmoved by what he had just heard And agitated by no stronger feeling Than a doubt where to go At length he went back again And took the road which leads From Hatfield to St. Albans He went on doggedly As he left the town behind him And plunged into the solitude And darkness of the road He felt a dread and awe Creeping upon him But shook him to the core Every object before him Substance or shadow Still moving took the semblance Of some fearful thing These fears were nothing compared To the senses that haunted him Of that morning's ghastly figure Following at his heels He could trace its shadow in the gloom Supply the smallest item of the outline And note how stiff and solemn It seemed to stalk along He could hear its garments rustling In the leaves and every breath Of wind came laden with that last Low cry If he stopped it did the same If he ran it followed Not running to that would have been A relief but like a corpse Endowed with a mere machinery of life And born on one slow melancholy Wind that never rose Or fell At times he turned with Different determination Resolved to beat his phantom off Though it should look him dead But the hair rose on his head And his blood stood still For it had turned with him And was behind him then He had kept it before him that morning But it was behind now, always He leaned his back against A bank and felt that if it Was still above him Visibly out against the cold night sky He threw himself upon the road At his head it stood Silently wrecked and still A living gravestone With its epitaph in blood Let no man talk of murderers Escaping justice And hint that providence must sleep There were twenty score of violent deaths In one long minute of the agony of fear There was a shed in the field He passed that offered shelter for the night Before the door Were three tall popular trees Which made it very dark within And the wind moaned through them With a dismal wail He could not walk on till daylight came again And here he stretched himself Close to the wall To undergo new torture For now a vision came before him As constant and more terrible Than that from which he had escaped Both widely staring eyes So lustrous and glassy That he had better born To see them than think upon them Peered in the midst of darkness Light in themselves But giving light to nothing There were but two, but they were everywhere If he shut out the sight There came the room with every well-known object Some indeed that he would have forgotten If he had gone over its contents from memory Each in its a custom place The body was in its place And its eyes were as he saw them When he stoned away He got up and rushed into the field without The figure was behind him The figure was behind him He re-entered the shed And he shrunk down once more The eyes were there Before he had laid himself alone And here he remained In such terror as none but he can know Trembling in every limb And the cold sweat starting from every pore When suddenly the rose upon the night Wind and noise of distant shouting And the roar of voices Mingled in alarm and wonder Any sound of men In that lonely place Even though it conveyed a real cause of alarm Was something to him He regained his strength and energy At the prospect of personal danger And springing to his feet rushed into the open air The broad sky seemed on fire Rising into the air with showers and sparks And rolling one above the other With sheets of flame Lighting the atmosphere for miles around And driving clouds of smoke in the direction Where he stood Screw louder as the new voices swelled the roar And he could hear the cry of fire Mingled with the ringing of an alarm bell The fall of heavy bodies And the crackling of flames as they twined round Some new obstacle And shot a loft as though refreshed by food The noise increased as he looked There were people there, men and women Light bustle It was like new life to him He darted forward, straight head long Dashing through a plier and brake As madly as his dog, who quarreared With a loud and sounding bark before him He came upon the spot There were half-dress figures tearing to and fro Some endeavoring to drag the frightened horses From the stables, others driving the cattle From the yard and outhouses And others coming lading from the burning pile The Mr. Shire of falling sparks Had the tumbling down of red-hot beams The apertures where the doors and windows Stood an hour ago disclosed a mass of raging fire Wolves rocked and crumbled into the burning well The molten lead-iron poured down white-hot Upon the ground Women and children shrieked The men encouraged each other with noisy Shouts and cheers The clanking of the engine pumps The spurting and hissing of the water As it fell upon the blazing wood Added to the tremendous roar He shouted too till he was hoarse And flying from memory himself Plunged into the thickest of the throng Hither and thither he died that night Now working at the pump Now hurrying through the smoke and flame But never ceasing to engage himself Wherever noise and men were thickest Up and down the ladders Upon the roofs of buildings Over floors that quaked and trembled with his weight Under the lee of falling bricks and stones And every part of that great fire was he But he bore a charmed life And had neither scratched nor bruised Nor weariest nor thought Till morning dawned again And only smoke and black ruins remained This mad excitement over They returned with tenfold force The dreadful consciousness of his crime He looked suspiciously about him While the men were conversing in groups And he feared to be the subject of their talk The dog obeyed the significant beck of his finger And they drew off stealthily together He passed near an engine where some men were seated And they called him to share in their refreshment He took some bread and meat and drank a draught of beer Heard the fireman who were from London Talking about the murder He's got the Birmingham they say said one But they'll have him yet for the scouts are out And by tomorrow night there'll be a cry All through the country He hurried off and walked till he had almost Dropped upon the ground And in a lane And had a long but broken and uneasy sleep He wandered on again in resolute and undecided And oppressed with the fear of another solitary night Suddenly he took the desperate resolution Of going back to London There's somebody to speak to there At all event he thought Good-eyed in place too They never expected to have him there After his country sent Why can't I lie by for a week or so Get a broad to France, damn me I'll risk it He acted upon this impulse without delay And choosing the least frequented roads Began his journey back Resolved the lycan sealed within a short distance Of the metropolis And entering it at dusk by a circuitous route To proceed straight to that part of it Which he had fixed on for his destination The dog though If any description of him were out It would not be forgotten that the dog was missing And had probably gone with him This might lead to his apprehension As he passed along the streets He resolved to drown him And walked on looking about for a pond Picking up a heavy stone And tying it to his kerchief as he went The animal looked up into his master's face While these preparations were making Whether his instinct apprehended Something of their purpose Or the robber's side-long look at him Was sterner than ordinary He sculked a little further In the rear than usual And cowered as he came more slowly along When his master halted at the brink Of a pool and looked round to call him He stopped outright Dear me call, come here, cried Sykes The animal came up from the very force of habit But as Sykes stooped to attach The handkerchief to his throat He uttered a low growl and started back Come back, said the robber The dog wagged his tail but moved not Sykes made a running noose and called him again The dog advanced retreated, paused an instant And scarred away at his hardest speed The man whistled again and again And sat down and waited in the expectation That he would return But no dog appeared And at length he resumed his journey End of Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 49 Chapter 49 The twilight was beginning to close in Where Mr. Brownlow alighted from a hackney Coach at his own door And knocked softly The door being opened A sturdy man got out of the coach And stationed himself on one side of the steps While another man who had been seated on the box Dismounted two And stood upon the other side At a sign from Mr. Brownlow They helped out a third man And taking him between them hurried him into the house This man was monks They walked in the same manner up the stairs Without speaking And Mr. Brownlow, proceeding them Away into a back room At the door of this apartment Monks who were descended with evident reluctance Stopped The two men looked at the old gentleman As if for instructions He knows the alternative, said Mr. Brownlow If he hesitates or moves the finger But as you bid him Drag him into the street Call for the aid of the police And impeach him as a felon in my name How dare you say this of me? Asked monks The man, replied Mr. Brownlow Confronting him with a steady look Are you mad enough to leave this house unhanding? There, sir, you're free to go And we to follow But I warn you, by all I hold Most solemn and most sacred That instant will have you apprehended On the charge of fraud and robbery I am resolute and immovable If you are determined to be the same Your blood is upon your own head By what authority am I kidnapped In the street, brought here by these dogs? Asked monks, looking from one to the other Of the men who stood beside him? By mine, replied Mr. Brownlow Those persons are identified by me If you complain of being deprived of your liberty You had power and opportunity to retrieve it As you came along But you deemed it advisable to remain quiet I say again Throw yourself for protection on the law I will appeal to the law too But when you have gone too far, recede Do not sue me for leniency When the power will have pasted to other hands And do not say I plunged you down the gulf Into which you rushed yourself Monks was plainly disconcerted and alarmed Besides he hesitated You all decide quickly, said Mr. Brownlow With perfect firmness and composure If you wish me to prefer my charges publicly I can sign you to a punishment Into which, although I can, with a shudder Forcy I cannot control Once more, I say, for you to know the way If not, and you appeal to my forbearance And the mercy of those you have deeply injured Seek yourself without a word in that chair It has waited for you two whole days Monks muttered some unintelligible words But wavered still You will be prompted, Mr. Brownlow A word for me and the alternative has gone forever Still the man hesitated I have not the inclination to parly, said Mr. Brownlow As I advocate the dearest interests of others I have not the right Is there, demanded Monks with a faltering tone Is there no middle course? None Monks looked at the old gentleman with an anxious eye But, reading in his countenance Nothing but severity and determination Walked into the room And shrugging his shoulders sat down Locked the door on the outside, said Mr. Brownlow To the attendants, and come when I ring The men obeyed and the two were left alone together This is a pretty treatment, sir, said Monks Throwing down his hat and cloak From my father's oldest friend It is because I was your father's oldest friend, young man Returned, Mr. Brownlow It is because the hopes and wishes Of young and happy years were bound up with him That fair creature of his blood and kindred Who rejoined of God in youth And left me here a solitary lonely man It is because he knelt with me beside his only sister's deathbed When he was yet a boy On the morning that would, but heaven willed otherwise Have made her my young wife It is because my seared heart clung to him from that time forth Through all his trials and errors till he died It is because old recollections and associations Filled my heart, and even the sight of you Brings with it old thoughts of him It is because of all these things That I am moved to treat you gently now Yes, I would, Leiford, even now And blush for your unworthiness who bear the name What is the name to do with it? Asked the other after contemplating half in silence And half in dogged wonder of the agitation of his companion What is the name to me? Nothing, replied Mr. Brownlow Nothing to you, but it was hers And even at this distance of time Brings back to me an old man The glow and thrill which I once felt Only to hear it repeated by a stranger I am very glad you have changed it Very, very This is all mighty fine said monks To retain his assumed designation After a long silence During which he had jerked himself in sullen defiance To and fro, and Mr. Brownlow Had sat shading his face with his hand But what do you want with me? You have a brother, said Mr. Brownlow Losing himself A brother, the whisper of whose name In your ear when I came up behind you In the street, was in itself almost enough To make you accompany me hither In wonder and alarm I have no brother, replied monks You know I was an only child Why don't you talk to me of brothers You know that as well as I I turn to what I do know And you may not, said Mr. Brownlow I shall interest you by and by I know of the wretched marriage into which Family pride in the most sordid And narrowest of all ambition Forster and happy father when a mere boy You with a soul and most unnatural issue I don't care for hard names Interrupted monks with a jeering laugh You know the fact that's enough for me I also know, pursued the old gentleman The misery, the slow torture The protracted anguish Of the ill-assorted union I know how listlessly and weary Each of that wretched pair Dragged on their heavy chain Through a world that was poisoned to them both I know how cold formalities were Succeeded by open taunts How indifference gave place to dislike Dislike to hate and hate to loathing Till at last they wrenched the clanking Bond asunder And metarring a wide space apart Carrying each galling fragment Of which nothing but death Could break the rivets To hide it in a new society beneath The gayest looks they could assume Your mother succeeded, she forgot it soon But it rusted and cankered At your father's heart for years Well, they were separated, said monks And what of that? When they had been separated for some time Returned Mr. Brownlow And your mother, wholly given up To continental frivolities Had utterly forgotten the young husband Who, with prospects blightly Lingered on at home, he fell among new friends The circumstance that leads to you now already Not I, said monks Turning away his eyes And beating his foot upon the ground As a man who is determined to deny everything Not I Your manner, no less than your actions Assures me that you have never forgotten it Or ceased to think of it with bitterness Returned Mr. Brownlow I speak of fifteen years ago When you were not more than eleven years old And you and your father, but one and thirty For he was, I repeat, a boy When his father ordered him to marry Must I go back to events which cast a shade Upon the memory of your parent Or will you spare it and disclose to me the truth? I have nothing to discuss, rejoin monks You must talk on if you will These new friends then, said Mr. Brownlow Were a labour officer, retired from active service Whose wife had died some half a year before And left him with two children There had been more, but of all the family Happily but two survived They were both daughters, one a beautiful creature of nineteen And the other a mere child of two or three years old What's this to me, asked monks They resided, said Mr. Brownlow Without seeming to hear the interruption In a part of the country to which your father In his wandering had repaired And where he'd taken up his abode Equatance, intimacy, friendship Fast followed on each other Your father was gifted as few men are He had his sister's soul and person As the old officer knew him more and more He grew to love him I would that had it ended there His daughter did the same The old gentleman paused Monks was biting his lips with his eyes fixed upon the floor Seeing this he immediately resumed The end of a year found him contracted Solemnly contracted to that daughter The object of the first true, ardent, only passion Of a guileless girl Your tale is one of the longest-observed monks Moving restlessly in his chair It is a true tale of grief and trial And sorrow, young man, return, Mr. Brownlow And such tales usually are If it were one of an unmixed joy and happiness It would be very brief That length, one of those rich relations To strengthen whose interest and importance Your father had been sacrificed As others are often It is no uncommon case, domained And to repair the misery he had been Instrumental in occasioning Left him his panacea for all griefs, money It was necessary that he should Immediately repair to Rome Whether this man had sped for health And where he had died Leaving his affairs in great confusion He went, was seized with a mortal illness there Was followed the moment the intelligence Reached Paris by your mother Who courage you with her He died the day after her arrival Leaving no will So that the whole property fell to her and you At this part of the recital Monks held his breath And listened with a face of intense eagerness Though his eyes were not directed towards the speaker As Mr. Brownlow paused He changed his position with the air of one Who has experienced a sudden relief And wiped his hot face and hands Before he went abroad Unless he passed through London on his way He said Mr. Brownlow slowly And fixing his eyes upon the other's face He came to me I never heard of that Interrupted monks in atone Intended to appear incredulous But savoring more of a disagreeable surprise He came to me and left with me Among some other things A picture, a portrait painted by himself A likeness at this poor girl Which he did not wish to leave behind And could not carry forward on his hasty journey He was worn by anxiety and remorse Almost to a shadow Talked in a wild, distracted way Of ruin and dishonour Worked by himself Confided to me his intention To convert his whole property At any loss into money Having settled on his wife And knew a portion of his recent acquisition To fly the country I guessed too well he would not fly alone And never see it more Even from me, his old and early friend Whose strong attachment had taken root in the earth Had covered one most dear to both Even from me He withheld any more particular confession Promising to write and tell me all After that to see me once again For the last time on earth Alas, that was the last time I had no letter And I never saw him more I went, said Mr Brown, after a short pause I went when all was over to the scene of his I will use the term the word Would freely use for worldly harshness Or favour and now I like to him Of his guilty love Resolved that if my fears were realised That earring child should find one hard And home to shelter and compassionate her The family had left that part of a week before They had called in such trifling debts As were outstanding and discharged them And left the place by night Why or wither none can tell Monks drew his breath yet more freely And looked round with a smile of triumph When your brother, said Mr Brown No drawing near to the other's chair When your brother, a feeble, ragged, neglected child Was cast in my way by a stronger hand than chance And rescued by me from a life of vice and infamy What! cried Monks By me said Mr Brown, I told you I should interest you before long I say by me, I see that your cunning Associate suppressed my name Although for Lord he knew It would be quite strange for you all here When he was rescued by me And then they were covering from Sickness in my house His strong resemblance to this picture I have spoken of struck me with astonishment Even when I first saw him In all his dirt and misery There was a glimpse of some old friend Flashing on one in a vivid dream I need not tell you that he was Snared away before I knew his history Why not? replied Monks hastily Because you know it well I? Denial to me as in vain Replied Mr Brown though I will show you that I know more than that You can't prove anything against me Stammered Monks I defy you to do it We shall see Returned the old gentleman With a searching glance I lost the boy And no efforts of mine could recover him 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 Wither, 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 has no clue to your residents That 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 appearances The same low haunts And mingling with the same infamous bird 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 dorm Of a dead man's brother You don't even know Which child was born Of this maudlin pair You don't even know that I did not Replyed 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 accounted By you and your suspicions 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 These proofs were destroyed By you And now in your own words To your accomplice the Jew The only proofs for the boy's Identity lie At the bottom of the river And the old hat that received Them from the mother Is rotting in her coffin Unworthy son Coward liar You who hold your counsel With thieves and murderers In dark rooms at night You whose plots and wilds Have brought a violent death Upon the head Of one worth million such as you You who, from your cradle Were gall and bitterness To your own father's heart And in whom all evil passions Vise and profligacy festered For they found a vent In a hideous disease Which made your face An index even to your mind You, Edward Leafford, do you still brave me? No, no, no, return 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 of courtial whispers And brought them to my ear The sight of the persecuted child Has turned vice itself Given it the courage And said almost the attributes of virtue Murder has been done to which you were morally If not really a party. No, no, interpose, monks. I knew nothing of that. I was going to inquire the truth of the story When you overtook me. I didn'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. Set your hand to a statement of truth And facts and repeat it before witnesses. That I promised to. Remain quietly here Until such a document is drawn up And proceed with me to such a place As I may deem most advisable For the purpose of attesting it. If you insist upon that I'll do that also, replied monks. You must do more than that Said Mr Brownlow. Make restitution to the innocent And unoffending child, for such as he is Although the offspring of a guilty And misrable love, you have not forgotten The provisions of the will. Carry them into execution So far as your brother is concerned And then go where you please. In this world you need meat no more. While monks was pacing up and down Meditating with dark and evil Looks on his proposal And the possibilities of evading it Torn by his fears on the one hand And his hatred on the other The door was hurriedly unlocked And a gentleman, Mr Loosburn Entered the room in violent agitation This man will be taken he cried Who will be taken tonight The murderer, asked Mr Brownlow Yes, yes, replied the other His dog has been seen lurking About some old hall And there seems little doubt that his master Is either is or will be There under the cover of darkness Spies are hovering about in every direction I've spoken to the men Who are charged with this capture And they tell me he cannot escape A reward of a hundred pounds Is proclaimed by government tonight I will give fifty more said Mr Brownlow And proclaim it with my own Lips upon the spot Where is it, Mr Maley? Harry, as soon as he had seen Your friend here and safe and a coach With you, he hurried off to where He heard this reply to the doctor And mounting his horse sighed forth To join the first party at some Place in the outskirts that agreed Upon between them Fagans said Mr Brownlow What of him? When I last heard he had not been taken But he will be, or is by this time The sure of him Have you made up your mind, asked Mr Brownlow In a low voice of monks Yes, he replied, you will Be secret with me I will remain here Till I return Is your only hope of safety They left the room And the door was again locked What have you done, asked the doctor In a whisper All that I could hope to do and even more Coupling the poor girl's intelligence With my previous knowledge And the result of our good friends' enquiries On the spot, I left him no loop All of escape And laid bare the whole villainy By which these lights became plain as day Write and appoint the evening After tomorrow at seven for the meeting We should be done there a few hours But shall require rest Especially the young lady Who may have greater need of firmness Than are the you and I can quite foresee Just now But my blood boils to avenge this poor Murdered creature Which way have they taken? End of chapter 49