 CHAPTER XXIX On the evening following that upon which the three worthies mentioned in the last chapter disposed of their little matter of business as therein narrated, Mr. William Sykes, awakening from a nap, drowsily growled forth an inquiry what time of night it was. The room in which Mr. Sykes propounded this question was not one of those he had teneted previous to the Churchy expedition, although it was in the same quarter of the town, and was situated at no great distance from his former lodgings. It was not, in appearance, so desirable a habitation as his old quarters, being a mean and badly furnished apartment of very limited size, lighted only by one small window in the shelving-roof, and abutting on a close and dirty lane. Nor were there wanting other indications of the good gentlemen's having gone down in the world of late, for a great scarcity of furniture and total absence of comfort, together with the disappearance of all such small moveables as spare clothes and linen bespoke a state of extreme poverty, while the meager and attenuated conditions of Mr. Sykes himself would have fully confirmed these symptoms if they had stood in any need of corroboration. The house-breaker was lying on the bed, wrapped in his white greatcoat by way of dressing-gown, and displaying a set of features in no degree improved by the cadaverous hue of illness, and the addition of a soiled nightcap, and a stiff black beard of a week's growth. The dog sat at the bedside, now eyeing his master with a wistful look, and now pricking his ears and uttering a low growl as some noise in the street, or in the lower part of the house attracted his attention. Seated by the window, busily engaged in patching an old waistcoat which formed a portion of the robber's ordinary dress, was a female, so pale and reduced with watching and privation, that there would have been considerable difficulty in recognizing her as the same Nancy who was already figured in this tale, but for the voice in which she replied to Mr. Sykes' question. "'Not long gone, seven,' said the girl. "'How do you feel, to-night, Bill?' "'As weak as water,' replied Mr. Sykes, with an implication on his eyes and limbs. "'Here, lend us a hand. Let me get off this thundering bed, anyhow.' Illness had not improved Mr. Sykes' temper, for as the girl raised him up and led him to a chair, he muttered various curses on her awkwardness and struck her. "'Widing, are you?' said Sykes. "'Come. Don't stand snivelling there. If you can't do anything better than that, cut off altogether. Do you hear me?' "'I hear you,' replied the girl, turning her face aside and forcing a laugh. "'What fancy have you got in your head now?' "'Oh, you thought better of it, have you?' growled Sykes, marking the tear which trembled in her eye. All the better for you you have!' "'Why, you don't mean to say you'll be hard upon me to-night, Bill,' said the girl, laying her hand upon his shoulder. "'No,' cried Mr. Sykes. "'Why not?' "'Such a number of nights,' said the girl, with a touch of woman's tenderness, which communicated something like a sweetness of tone, even to her voice. "'Such a number of nights, as I've been patient with you, nursing and caring for you, as if you'd been a child. And this is the first that I've seen you like yourself. You wouldn't have served me as you did just now if you had thought of that, would you? Come, come, say you wouldn't.' "'Well, then,' rejoined Mr. Sykes. "'I wouldn't. I dammy now the girl's whining again. It's nothing,' said the girl, throwing herself into a chair. "'Don't you seem to mind me. It'll soon be over.' "'What'll be over?' demanded Mr. Sykes, in a savage voice. "'What foolery are you up to now again? Get up and bustle about and don't come over me with your woman's nonsense!' At any other time, this remonstrance, and the tone in which it was delivered, would have had the desired effect, but the girl, being really weak and exhausted, dropped her head over the back of the chair and fainted, before Mr. Sykes could get out a few of the appropriate oaths with which, on similar occasions, he was accustomed to garnish his threats. Not knowing very well what to do in this uncommon emergency, for Miss Nancy's hysterics were usually of that violent kind which the patient fights and struggles out of without much assistance, Mr. Sykes tried a little blasphemy. And finding that motor-treatment wholly ineffectual, called for assistance. "'What's the matter here, my dear?' said Fagan, looking in. "'Lend a hand to the girl, can't you?' replied Sykes impatiently. "'Don't stand chattering and grinning at me!' With an exclamation of surprise, Fagan hastened to the girl's assistance, while Mr. John Dawkins, otherwise the artful dodger, who had followed his venerable friend into the room, hastily deposited on the floor a bundle with which he was laden, and snatching a bottle from the grasp of Master Charles Bates, who came close in his heels, uncorked it in a twinkling with his teeth, and poured a portion of its contents down the patient's throat, previously taking a taste himself to prevent mistakes. "'Give her a whiff of fresh air with the bellows, Charlie,' said Mr. Dawkins, and you slap her hands, Fagan, while Bill undoes the pedicots. These united restoratives, administered with great energy, especially that department consigned to Master Bates, which appeared to consider his share in the proceedings a piece of unexampled pleasantry, were not long in producing the desired effect. The girl gradually recovered her senses, and, staggering to a chair by the bedside, hid her face upon the pillow, leaving Mr. Sykes to confront the new-covers in some astonishment at their unlooked-for appearance. "'Why, what evil wind has blowed you here?' he asked, Fagan. "'No evil wind at all, my dear, for evil winds blow nobody any good, and I've brought something good with me that you'll be glad to see. Dodger, my dear, open the bundle, and give Bill the little trifles that we spent all our money on this morning. In compliance with Mr. Fagan's request, the artful untied this bundle, which was of a large size, and formed of an old tablecloth, and hand the articles it contained one by one to Charlie Bates, who placed them on the table, with various econiums on their rarity and excellence. "'Such a rabbit pie, Bill!' exclaimed that young gentleman, disclosing to view a huge pasty. Such delicate creatures, with such tender limbs, Bill, that the very bones melt in your mouth, and there's no occasion to pick them, half a pound of seven-and-six-pity green, so precious strongly that if you mix it with biling water it'll go night to blow the lid of the teapot off, a pound and a half of moist sugar that the niggers didn't work at all at, for they gutted it up to such a pitch of goodness. Oh, no! Two half-quarton brands, a pound of best fresh, a piece of dumber-gloster, and to wind up all, some of the richest salt you ever lashed.' Uttering this last pentageric, Master Bates produced from one of his extensive pockets a full-sized wine-bottle carefully corked, while Mr. Dawkins at the same instant poured out a wine-glass full of raw spirits from the bottle he carried, which the invalid tossed down his throats without a moment's hesitation. "'Ah!' said Fagin, rubbing his hands with great satisfaction. "'You'll do, Bill, you'll do now.' "'Do!' exclaimed Mr. Sykes. "'I might have been done for twenty times over before you'd have done anything to help me. What do you mean by leaving a man in this state three weeks and more? You false-hearted wegerbond! Only hear him, boy!' said Fagin, shrugging his shoulders, and us come to bring him all these beautiful things. "'The things is well enough in their way,' observed Mr. Sykes, a little soothed as he glanced over the table. But what have you got to say for yourself? Why, you should leave me here, down in the mouth, health, blunt, and everything else, and take no more notice of me all this mortal time, than if I was that-air dog! Drive him down, Charlie!' "'I never see such a jolly dog as that,' cried Master Bates, doing as he was desired, smelling the grub like an old lady are going to market. But he'd make us fortune on the stage, that dog-wood, and revive the dremma, besides. "'Hold your din!' cried Sykes, as the dog retreated under the bed, still growling angrily. "'What have you got to say for yourself, you withered old fence? I was away from London a week and more, my dear, on a plant,' replied the Jew. "'And what about the other fortnight?' demanded Sykes. "'What about the other fortnight that you've left me lying here like a sick rat in his hole?' "'I couldn't help it, Bill. I can't go into a long explanation before company, but I couldn't help it upon my honour, upon your what?' growled Sykes, with excessive disgust. "'Here, cut me off a piece of that poi, what have you, boys, that take the taste of that out of my mouth, or it'll choke me dead.' "'Don't be out of temper, my dear,' urged Fagin, subiscifully. "'I have never forgot you, Bill, never once.' "'No, all pounded that you ain't,' replied Sykes, with a bit of grin. "'You've been scheming and plotting away every hour that I have laid shivering and burning here. And Bill was to do this, and Bill was to do that, and Bill was to do it all dirt-cheap, as soon as he got well, and was quite poor enough for your work. "'If it hadn't been for the girl, I might have died!' "'There now, Bill,' remonstrating Fagin, eagerly catching at the word, "'if it hadn't been for the girl, who but poor old Fagin was the means of your having such a handy girl about you?' "'He says true enough there,' said Nancy, complicatedly forward, "'let him be, let him be.' Nancy's appearance gave a new turn to the conversation, for the boys, receiving a sly wink from the wary old Jew, began to ply her with liquor, of which, however, she took very sparingly. While Fagin, assuming an unusual flow of spirits, gradually brought Mr. Sykes into a better temper, by affecting to regard his threats as a little pleasant banter, and, moreover, by laughing very heartily at one or two rough jokes, which, after repeated applications to the spirit-bottle, he condescended to make. "'It's all very well,' said Mr. Sykes, "'but I must have some blood from you to-night.' "'I haven't a piece of coin about me,' replied the Jew. "'Then you've got lots at home,' retorted Sykes, "'and I must have some from there.' "'Lots,' cried Fagin, holding up his hands. "'I haven't so much as what I don't know how much you've got, and I dare say you hardly know yourself as it would take a pretty long time to count it,' said Sykes, "'but I must have some to-night, and that's flat.' "'Well, well,' said Fagin, with a sigh, "'I'll send the artful round presently.' "'You won't do nothing of the kind,' rejoined Sykes. "'The artful's a deal too artful, and would forget to come, or lose his way, or get dodged by traps, and so be perverted, or anything for an excuse, if you put him up to it. Nancy shall go to the Ken Infected to make all sure, and I'll lie down to have a snooze while she's gone. After a great deal of haggling and squabbling, Fagin beat down the amount of the required advance from five pounds to three pounds, four and six pence, protesting with many solemn separations that that would only leave him eighteen pence to keep house with. Mr. Sykes suddenly remarking that if he couldn't get any more he must accompany him home, with the Dodger and Master Bates put the eatables in the cupboard. The Jew, then taking leave of his affectionate friend, returned homeward, attended by Nancy and the boys. Mr. Sykes meanwhile flinging himself on the bed, and composing himself to sleep away the time until the young lady's return. In due course they arrived at Fagin's abode, where they found Toby Crackett and Mr. Chitling intent upon their fifteenth game at Crimmage, which it is scarcely necessary to say the latter gentleman lost, and with it his fifteenth and last six pence, much to the amusement of his young friend. Mr. Crackett, apparently somewhat ashamed that being found relaxing himself with the gentleman so much as inferior in station and mental endowments, yawned and inquiring after Sykes, took up his hat to go. Has nobody been, Toby, asked Fagin? Not a living leg, answered Mr. Crackett, pulling up his collar. It's been as dull as swipes. You ought to stand something handsome, Fagin, to recompense me for keeping house so long. Dammit! I'm as flat as a journeyman, and should have gone to sleep as fast as Newgate if I head and head the good nature to amuse this youngster. Horrid dull! I'm blessed if I ain't! With these and other ejaculations of the same kind, Mr. Toby Crackett swept up his winnings and crammed them into his waistcoat pocket with a haughty air, as though such small pieces of silver were wholly beneath the consideration of a man of his figure. This done, he swaggered out of the room with so much elegance and gentility, that Mr. Chitling, bestowing numerous admiring glances on his legs and boots till they were out of sight, assured the company that he considered his acquaintance cheap at fifteen-six pence as an interview, and that he didn't value his losses the snap of his little finger. What a rum-champ you are, Tom," said Master Bates, highly amused by this declaration. Not a bit of it, replied Mr. Chitling, am I, Fagin? A very clever fellow, my dear, said Fagin, patting him on the shoulder and weaking to his other pupils. And Mr. Crackett is a heavy swell, ain't he, Fagin, asked Tom. No doubt at all of that, my dear. And it is a creditable thing to have his acquaintance, ain't it, Fagin, pursued Tom. Very much so indeed, my dear, they're only jealous, Tom, because he won't give it to them. Ah! cried Tom triumphantly. That's where it is. He has cleaned me out. But I can go and earn some more when I like, can't I, Fagin? To be sure you can, and the sooner you go, the better, Tom. So make up your loss at once, and don't lose any more time. Dodger, Charlie, it's time you are on the lay. Come, it's near ten and nothing done yet. In obedience to this hint, the boys, nodding to Nancy, took up their hats and left the room. The Dodger and his vivacious friend indulging as they went, in many witticisms at the expense of Mr. Chitling, in whose conduct it is but justice to say, there was nothing very conspicuous or peculiar, inasmuch as there are a great number of spirited young bloods upon town who pay a much higher price than Mr. Chitling for being seen in good society, and a great number of fine gentlemen composing the good society aforesaid, who established their reputation upon very much the same footing of Flash-Toby Crackett. Now, said Fagin, when they had left the room, I'll go and get you that cash, Nancy. This is only the key of a little cupboard where I keep a few odd things the boys got, my dear. I never lock up my money, for I've got none to lock up, my dear. None to lock up. It's a poor trade, Nancy, and no thanks, but I'm fond of seeing the young people about me, and I bear it all, I bear it all, hush, he said, hastily concealing the key in his breast. Who's that? Listen. The girl, who was sitting at the table with her arms folded, appeared in no way interested in the arrival, or to care whether the person whoever he was came or went, until the murmur of a man's voice reached her ears. The instant she caught the sound, she tore off her bonnet and shawl with the rapidity of lightning and thrust them under the table. The Jew, turning round immediately afterwards, she muttered a complaint of the heat, in a tone of langer that contrasted very remarkably with the extreme haste and violence of this action, which, however, had been unobserved by Fagan, who had his back towards her at the time. Bah! He whispered, as though nettle by the interruption, it's the man I expected before he's coming downstairs, not a word about the money while he's here, Nancy. He won't stop long, not ten minutes, my dear. Holding his skinny forefinger upon his lip, the Jew carried a cantile to the door, as a man's step was heard upon the stairs without. He reached it at the same moment as the visitor, who, coming hastily into the room, was close upon the girl before he observed her. It was Monks. Only one of my young people, said Fagan, observing that Monks drew back on beholding a stranger, don't move, Nancy. The girl drew closer to the table, and glancing at Monks with an air of careless levity, with through her eyes. But as he turned towards Fagan, she stole another look, so keen and searching, and full of purpose, that if there had been any bystander to observe the change, he could hardly have believed the two looks to have proceeded from the same person. Any news, inquired Fagan. Great! And, and good! asked Fagan, hesitating as though he feared to vex the other man by being too sanguine. Not bad, anyway, replied Monks with a smile. I have been prompt enough this time. Let me have a word with you. The girl drew closer to the table, and made no offer to leave the room, although she could see that Monks was pointing to her. The Jew, perhaps fearing she might say something aloud about the money, if he endeavored to get rid of her, pointed upward and took Monks out of the room. Not that infertile hole we were in before, she could hear the man say as they went upstairs, Fagan laughed, and making some reply which did not reach her, seen by the creaking of the boards to lead his companion to the second story. Before the sound of their footsteps had ceased to echo through the house, the girl had slipped off her shoes, and drawing her gown loosely over her head and muffling her arms in it stood at the door listening with breathless interest. The moment the noise ceased she glided from the room, ascended the stairs with incredible softness and silence, and was lost in the gloom above. The room remained deserted for a quarter of an hour or more. The girl glided back with the same unearthly tread, and immediately afterwards the two men were heard descending. This went at once into the street, and the Jew crawled upstairs again for the money. When he returned, the girl was adjusting her shawl and bought it as if preparing to be gone. "'Why, Nance?' exclaimed the Jew, starting back as he put down the candle. "'How pale you are!' "'Pale!' echoed the girl, shading her eyes with her hands as if to look steadily at him. "'Quite horrible! What have you been doing to yourself?' "'Nothing that I know of, except sitting in this close place, for I don't know how long at all,' replied the girl carelessly. "'Come, let me get back, that's a dear!' With a sigh for every piece of money, Fagin told the amount into her hands. They parted without more conversation, merely interchanging a good night. When the girl got into the open street, she sat down upon a doorstep, and seemed for a few moments wholly bewildered and unable to pursue her way. Suddenly she arose, and hurrying on in a direction quite opposite to that in which Sykes was awaiting her return, quickened her pace, until it gradually resolved into a violent run. After completely exhausting herself she stopped to take breath, and, as if suddenly recollecting herself and deploring her inability to do something she was bent upon, wrung her hands and burst into tears. It might be that her tears relieved her, or that she felt the full hopelessness of her condition, but she turned back and hurried with nearly as great rapidity in the contrary direction, partly to recover lost time, and partly to keep pace with the violent current of her own thoughts soon reached the dwelling where she had left the house-breaker. If she betrayed any agitation when she presented herself to Mr Sykes, he did not observe it, for merely inquiring if she had brought the money and receiving a reply on the affirmative, he uttered a growl of satisfaction, and replaced his head upon the pillow, resumed the slumbers which her arrival had interrupted. It was fortunate for her that the possession of money occasioned him so much employment next day in the way of eating and drinking, and with all had so beneficial an effect in smoothing down the asperities of his temper, that he had neither time nor inclination to be very critical upon her behavior and deportment, that she had all the abstracted and nervous matter of one who was on the eve of some bold and hazardous step, which it has required no common struggle to resolve upon, would have been obvious to the lynx-eyed Fagan, who would most probably have taken the alarm at once, but Mr Sykes, lacking the niceties of discrimination and being troubled with no more subtle misgivings than those which resolved themselves into a dogged roughness of behavior towards everybody, and being furthermore in an unusually amiable condition, as has been already observed, saw nothing unusual in her demeanor, and indeed troubled himself so little about her, that had her agitation been far more perceptible than it was, it would have been very unlikely to awaken his suspicions. As that day closed in, the girl's excitement increased, and when night came on she sat by, watching, until the house-breaker should drink himself asleep, there was an unusual paleness in her cheek, at a fire in her eye, that even Sykes observed with astonishment. Mr. Sykes, being weak from the fever, was lying in bed, taking hot water with his gin to render it less inflammatory, and had pushed his glass towards Nancy to be replenished for the third or fourth time when these symptoms first struck him. "'Why, burn my body,' said the man, raising himself on his hands as he stared at the girl in the face. You look like a corpse come to life again. What's the matter?' "'Matter,' replied the girl. Nothing. What do you look at me so hard for?' "'What foolery is this?' demanded Sykes, grasping her by the arm and shaking her roughly. What is it? What do you mean? What are you thinking of?' "'Of many things,' Bill,' replied the girl, shivering, and as she did so, pressing her hands upon her eyes. But Lord, what odds in that?' The tone of forced gagety in which the last words were spoken seemed to produce a deeper impression on Sykes and the wild and rigid look which had preceded them. "'I tell you what it is,' said Sykes. "'If you haven't caught the fever and got it coming on now, there's something more than usual in the wind and something dangerous, too. You're not going to—' Oh, Dabby, you wouldn't do that. Do what?' asked the girl. "'There ain't,' said Sykes, fixing his eyes upon her and muttering the words to himself. The rain has stauncher-hot it, gal, going. Right if cut her throat three months ago. She's got the fever coming on, that's it.' Fortifying himself with this assurance, Sykes drained the glass to the bottom, and then with many grumbling oaths called for his physique. The girl jumped up with great alacrity, poured it quickly out, but with her back towards him, and held the vessel to his lips while he drank off the contents. "'Now,' said the robber, come and sit aside of me, and put on your own face or all alter it so that you won't know it again when you do want it.' The girl obeyed. Sykes, locking her hand in his, fell back upon the pillow, turning his eyes upon her face. They closed, again to gain. Closed once more. Again opened. He shifted his position restlessly, and after dozing again and again for two or three minutes, and as often springing up with a look of terror and gazing vacantly about him, was suddenly stricken as it were while in the very attitude of rising into a deep and heavy sleep. The grasp of his hand relaxed, the upraised arm fell languidly by his side, and he lay like one in her profound trance. "'The laudan is taken effect at last,' murmured the girl, as she rose from the bedside. I may be too late even now.' She hastily dressed herself in her bonnet and shawl, looking fearfully round from time to time, as if, despite the sleeping draught, she expected every moment to feel the pressure of Sykes' heavy hand upon her shoulder. Then stooping softly over the bed, she kissed the robber's lips, and then, opening and closing the room door with noiseless touch, hurried for the house. A watchman was crying half-past nine down a dark passage to which he had to pass, ingaining the maid thoroughfare. "'How long was it called the half-hour?' asked the girl. "'It'll strike the hour at another quarter,' said the man, raising his lantern to her face. And I cannot get there in less than an hour or more, muttered Dancy, brushing swiftly past him and gliding rapidly down the street. Many of the shops were already closing in the back lanes and avenues through which she tracked her way and making from the spittle fields towards the west end of London. The clock struck ten, increasing her impatience. She tore along the narrow pavement, elbowing the passengers from side to side, and darting almost under the horse's heads, crossed crowded streets, where clusters of persons were eagerly watching their opportunity to do the like. "'The woman is mad,' said the people, turning to look after her as she rushed away. When she reached the more wealthy quarter of the town, the streets were comparatively deserted, and here her headlong progress excited a still greater curiosity in the stragglers whom she hurried past. Some quickened their pace behind as though to see whether she was hastening at such an unusual rate, and a few made head upon her and looked back, surprising at her undiminished speed, but they fell off one by one, and when she neared her place of destination she was alone. It was a family hotel in a quiet but handsome street near Hyde Park. As the brilliant light of the lamp which burnt before its door guided her to the spot, the clock struck eleven. She had loitered for a few paces as though irresolute, and making up her mind to advance, but the sound determined her, and she stepped into the hall. The porter's seat was vacant. She looked round with an air of insertitude, and advanced towards the stairs. "'Now, young woman,' said a smartly dressed T-Mail, looking out from a door behind her, "'what do you want here?' "'A lady who is stopping in this house,' answered the girl. "'A lady,' was the reply, accompanied with a squardful look. "'What lady?' "'Miss Maley,' said Nancy. The young woman, who had by this time noted her appearance, arrived only by a look of virtuous disdain, and summoned the man to answer her. To him Nancy repeated her request. "'What name am I to say?' said the waiter. "'It's of no use saying any,' replied Nancy. "'Nor business,' said the man. "'No, nor that neither, rejoined the girl. I must see the lady.' "'Come,' said the man, pushing her towards the door. "'None of this. Take yourself off. "'I shall be carried out if I go,' said the girl violently. "'And I can make that a job that two of you won't like to do. "'Isn't there anybody here,' she said, looking round, that will see a simple message carried for a poor wretch like me?' This appeal produced an effect on a good tempered-faced man-cook, who, with some of the other servants was looking on, and who stepped forward to interfere. "'Take it up for her, Joe, can't you?' said this person. "'What's the good?' replied the man. "'You don't suppose the young lady will see such as her, do you?' This allusion to Nancy's doubtful character, raised a vast quantity of chased wrath in the bosoms of four host-maids, who remarked with great fervour that the creature was a disgrace to her sex, and strongly advocated her being thrown ruthlessly into the kennel. "'Do what you like with me,' said the girl, turning to the men again. "'But do what I ask you first, and I ask you to give this message for God Almighty's sake.' The soft-hearted cook added his intercession, and the result was that the man who had first appeared undertook its delivery. "'What's it to be?' said the man, with one foot on the stairs. "'There's a young woman earnestly asked to speak to Miss Maley alone,' said Nancy, and that if the lady will only hear the first word she has to say, she will know whether to hear her business or to have her turned out of doors as an imposter. "'I say,' said the man, "'you're coming at strong? You give the message,' said the girl firmly, and let me hear the answer. The man ran upstairs. Nancy remained pale and almost breathless, listening with quivering lip the very audible expressions of scorn, of which the chased-house maids were very prolific, and of which they became still more so when the man returned, and said the young woman was to walk upstairs. "'It's no good being proper in this world,' said the first house maid. "'Brass can do better than the gold what has stood the fire,' said the second. The third contented herself with wondering what ladies was made of, and the fourth took the first in a quartet of shameful, with which the diattas concluded. Regardless of all this, for she had way-tier mattress at hand, Nancy followed the man with trembling limbs to a small anti-chamber, lighted by a lamp from the ceiling. Here he left her, and retired. End of Chapter 39. Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, Chapter 40 A strange interview which is a sequel to the last chapter. The girl's life had been squandered in the streets, and among the most noisome of the stews and dens of London, but there was something of the woman's original nature left in her still, and when she heard a light step approaching the door opposite to that by which she had entered, and thought of the wide contrast which the small room would in another moment contain, she felt burdened with the sense of her own deep shame, and shrunk as though she could scarcely bear the presence of her with whom she had sought this interview. But struggling with these better feelings was pride. The voice of the lowest and most debased creatures no less than of the high and self-assured. The miserable companion of thieves and ruffians. The fallen outcast of low haunts. The associate of the scourings of the jails and hulks. Living within the shadow of the gallows itself. Even this degraded being felt too proud to betray a feeble gleam of the womanly feeling which she thought a weakness, but which alone connected her with that humanity of which her wasting life had obliterated so many, many traces when a very child. She raised her eyes sufficiently to observe that the figure which presented itself was that of a slight and beautiful girl. Then bending them on the ground, she tossed her head with affected carelessness as she said, "'It's a hard matter to get to see you, lady. If I had taken offence and gone away as many would have done, you'd have been sorry for it one day and not without reason, either.' "'I am very sorry if any one has behaved harshly to you,' replied Rose. "'Do not think of that. Tell me why you wish to see me. I am the person you inquired for.' The kind tone of this answer, the sweet voice, the gentle manner, the absence of any accent of haughtiness or displeasure, took the girl completely by surprise, and she burst into tears. "'Oh, lady, lady,' she said, clasping her hands passionately before her face, "'if there was more like you, there would be fewer like me. There would, there would.' "'Sit down,' said Rose, earnestly. If you are in poverty or affliction, I should be truly glad to relieve you if I can. I shall indeed. Sit down.' "'Let me stand, lady,' said the girl, still weeping, "'and do not speak to me so kindly till you know me better. It is growing late. Is—is that door shut?' "'Yes,' said Rose, recoiling a few steps, as if to be nearer assistance, in case she should require it. Why?' "'Because,' said the girl, "'I am about to put my life in the lives of others in your hands. I am the girl that dragged little Oliver back to old Faggins on the night he went out from the house in Pentonville.' "'You,' said Rose Mealy. "'I, lady,' replied the girl, "'I am the infamous creature you have heard of, that lives among the thieves, and that never far from the first moment I can recollect my eyes and senses opening on London streets have known any better life or kinder words than they have given me, so help me God. Do not mind shrinking openly from me, lady. I am younger than you would think to look at me, but I am well used to it. The poorest women fall back as I make my way along the crowded pavement. "'What dreadful things are these,' said Rose, involuntarily falling from her strange companion. "'Thank heaven upon your knees, dear lady,' cried the girl, "'that you had friends to care for and keep you in your childhood, and that you were never in the midst of cold and hunger and riot and drunkenness, and—and something worse than all, as I have been, from my cradle. I may use the word for the alley in the gutter will mine as they will be my deathbed. "'I pity you,' said Rose, in a broken voice, "'it rings my heart to hear you. Heaven bless you for your goodness,' rejoined the girl. "'If you knew what I am sometimes you would pity me indeed, but I have stolen away from those who would surely murder me if they knew I had been here to tell you what I have overheard. Do you know a man named Monks?' "'No,' said Rose. "'He knows you,' replied the girl, "'and knew you were here, for it was by hearing him tell the place that I found you out. I never heard the name, said Rose. Then he goes by some other amongst us, rejoined the girl, which I more than thought before. Some time ago, and soon after Oliver was put into your house on the night of the robbery, I, suspecting this man, listened to a conversation held between him and Fagan in the dark. I found out from what I heard that Monks, the man I asked you about you know—yes, said Rose, I understand—that Monks, who had pursued the girl, had seen him accidentally with one or two of our boys on the day we first lost him, and had known him directly to be the same child that he was watching for, though I couldn't make out why. A bargain was struck with Fagan, that if Oliver was gut-back he should have a certain sum, and he was to have more from making him a thief which this Monks wanted for some purpose of his own. For what purpose?" asked Rose. "'He caught sight of my shadow on the wall as I listened in the hope of finding out,' said the girl, and there are not many people besides me that could have got out of their way in time to escape discovery, but I did, and I saw him no more till last night. And what occurred then?' "'I'll tell you, lady. Last night he came again. Again they went upstairs, and I, wrapping myself up so that my shadow would not betray me, again listened at the door. The first words I heard Monks say were these. Though the only proofs of the boy's identity lie at the bottom of the river, and the old hag that received them from the mother is rotting in her coffin. They laughed, and talk of his success in doing this, and Monks, talking on about the boy and getting very wild, said that though he had got the young devil's money safely now, he'd rather have had it the other way. For what a game it would have been to have brought down the boast of the father's will by driving him through every jail in town, and then hauling him up for some capital felony which Faggen could easily manage, and having made a good profit of him beside. What is all this?' said Rose. "'The truth, lady, though it comes from my lips,' replied the girl. Then he said, with oaths common enough in my ears, but strange to yours, that if he could gratify his hatred by taking the boy's life without bringing his own neck in danger he would. But as he couldn't, he'd be upon the watch to meet him at every turn in life, and if he took advantage of his birth and history he might harm him yet. In short Faggen he says, Jew as you are, you never laid such snares as I'll contrive for my young brother Oliver.' His brother,' exclaimed Rose. "'Those were his words,' said Nancy, glancing uneasily round as she had scarcely ceased to do since she began to speak, for a vision of psychs haunted her perpetually. And more, when she spoke of you and the other lady, and said it seemed contrived by heaven or the devil engaged him, that Oliver should come into your hands,' he laughed, and said that there was some comfort in that, too, for how many thousands and hundreds of thousands of pounds would you not give if you had them to know who your two-legged spaniel was. "'You do not mean,' said Rose, turning very pale, to tell me that this was said in earnest. He spoke in heart and angry earnest if a man ever did,' replied the girl, shaking her head. "'He is an earnest man with his hatred is up. I know many who do worse things, but I'd rather listen to them all a dozen times than to that monk's once. It is growing late, and I have to reach home without suspicion of having been on such an errand as this. I must get back quickly.' "'But what can I do?' said Rose. "'To what use can I turn this communication without you? Back. Why do you wish to return to companions you paint in such terrible colours? If you repeat this information to a gentleman whom I can summon in an instant from the next room, you can be consigned to some place of safety without half an hour's delay. I wish to go back,' said the girl. "'I must go back, because—' "'How can I tell such things to an innocent lady like you? Because among the men I have told you of, there is one, the most desperate among them all, that I can't leave—no, not even to be saved from the life I am leading now.' "'You're having interfered in this dear boy's behalf before,' said Rose. "'You're coming here at so great a risk to tell me what you have heard. Your manner, which convinces me of the truth of what you say, your evident contrition and sense of shame, all lead me to believe that you might yet be reclaimed.' "'Oh!' said the earnest girl, folding her hands as the tears course down her face. "'Do not turn a deaf ear to the entreaties of one of your own sex. The first—' "'The first, I do believe—' "'Whoever appealed to you in the voice of pity and compassion, do hear my words, and let me save you yet for better things.' "'Lady!' cried the girl, sinking on her knees. "'Dear, sweet angel lady, you are the first that ever blessed me with such words as these. And if I had heard them years ago, they might have turned me from this life of sin and sorrow. But it is too late. It is too late. It is never too late,' said Rose, for penitence and atonement. "'It is,' cried the girl, writhing in agony of her mind. "'I cannot leave him now. I could not be his death. Why should you be?' asked Rose. One could save him,' cried the girl, "'if I told others what I have told you and led to their being taken, he would be sure to die. He is the boldest, and has been so cruel. Is it possible,' cried Rose, "'that for such a man as this you can resign every future hope and certainty of immediate rescue? It is madness.' "'I don't know what it is,' answered the girl. "'I only know that it is so, and not with me alone, but with hundreds of others as bad and wretched as myself. I must go back. Whether it's God's wrath for the wrong I have done, I do not know, but I am drawn back to him through every suffering and ill-usage, and I should be, I believe, if I knew that I was to die by his hand at last. "'What am I to do?' said Rose. "'I should not let you depart from me thus. You should, lady, and I know you will,' rejoined the girl, rising. "'You will not stop my going, because I have trusted in your goodness and forced no promise from you as I might have done. Of what use, then, is the communication you have made?' said Rose. The mystery must be investigated, or how would its disclosure to me benefit Oliver, whom you are anxious to serve? You must have some kind gentleman about you that will hear it as a secret, and advise you what to do,' rejoined the girl. "'But where can I find you again when it is necessary?' asked Rose. "'I do not seek to know where these dreadful people live, but where will you be walking or passing at any settled period from that time?' "'Will you promise that you will have my secret strictly kept and come alone, or with the only other person that knows it, and that I shall not be watched or followed?' asked the girl. "'I promise you solemnly,' answered Rose. "'Every Sunday night from eleven until the clock strikes twelve,' said the girl, without hesitation, "'I will walk on London Bridge if I am alive.' "'Stay another moment,' interposed Rose, as the girl moved hurriedly towards the door. "'Think once again on your own condition, and the opportunity you have of escaping from it. You have a claim on me, not only as the voluntary bearer of this intelligence, but as a woman lost almost beyond redemption. Will you return to this gang of robbers, and to this man when a word can save you? What fascination is it that can take you back and make you cling to wickedness and misery? Who is there no chord in your heart that I can touch? Is there nothing left to which I can appeal against this terrible infatuation? When ladies as young and good and beautiful as you are,' replied the girl steadily, "'give away your hearts. Love will carry you all lengths, even such as you, who have homes, friends, other admirers, everything to fill them, when such as I, who have no certain roof but the coffin-lid, and no friend in sickness or death but the hospital nurse, set our rotten hearts on any man, and let him fill the place that has been a blank through all our wretched lives, who can hope to cure us, pity us, lady, pity us, for having only one feeling of the woman left, and for having that turned by a heavy judgment from a comfort and a pride, into a new means of violence and suffering. You will,' said Rose, after a pause, "'take some money from me, which may enable you to live without dishonesty, at all events, until we meet again.' "'Not a penny,' replied the girl, waving her hand. "'Do not close your heart against all my efforts to help you,' said Rose, stepping gently forward. "'I wish to serve you indeed.' "'You would serve me best, lady,' replied the girl, rigging her hands. "'If you could take my life at once. For I have felt more grief to think of what I am tonight than I ever did before. And it would be something not to die in the hell in which I have lived. God bless you, sweet lady, and send as much happiness on your head as I have brought shame on mine.' Thus speaking and sobbing aloud the unhappy creature turned away, while Rose Maley, overpowered by this extraordinary interview, which had more the semblance of a rapid dream than an actual occurrence, sank into a chair and endeavored to collect her wandering thoughts. End of CHAPTER 40 Oliver Twist CHAPTER 41 Her situation was, indeed, one of no common trial and difficulty. While she felt the most eager and burning desire to penetrate the mystery in which Oliver's history was enveloped, she could not but hold sacred the confidence which the miserable woman with whom she had just conversed had reposed in her as a young and guileless girl. Her words and manner had touched Rose Maley's heart, and mingled with her love for her young charge, and scarcely less intense in its truth and fervour, was her fond wish to win the outcast back to repentance and hope. They purposed remaining in London only three days prior to departing for some weeks to a distant part of the coast. It was now midnight of the first day. What course of action could she determine upon which could be adopted in eight and forty hours? Or how could she postpone the journey without exciting suspicion? Mr. Lasburn was with them, and would be for the next two days. But Rose was too well acquainted with the excellent gentleman's impetuosity, and foresaw too clearly the wrath with which in the first explosion of his indignation he would regard the instrument of Oliver's recapture to trust him with a secret when her representations in the girl's behalf could be seconded by no experienced person. These were all reasons for the greatest caution and most circumspect behavior in communicating it to Mrs. Maley, whose first impulse would infallibly be to hold a conference with the worthy doctor on the subject. As to resorting to any legal adviser, even if she had known how to do so, it was scarcely to be thought of for the same reason. Once the thought occurred to her as seeking assistance from Harry. But this awakened the recollection of their last parting, and it seemed unworthy of her to call him back when the tears rose to her eyes as she pursued the train of reflection he might have by this time learnt to forget her and to be happier away. Disturbed by these different reflections, inclining now to one course and then to another, and again recoiling from all as each successive consideration presented itself to her mind, Rose passed a sleepless and anxious night. After more communing with herself next day she arrived at the desperate conclusion of consulting Harry. If it be painful to him, she thought, to come back here, how painful it will be to me. But perhaps he will not come. He may write, or he may come himself, and studiously abstain from meeting me. He did when he went away. I hardly thought he would. But it was the better for us both. And here Rose dropped the pen and turned away as though the very paper which was to be her messenger should not see her weep. She had taken up the same pen and laid it down again fifty times, and had considered and reconsidered the first line of her letter without writing the first word when Oliver, who had been walking in the streets with Mr. Giles for a bodyguard, entered the room in such breathless haste and violent agitation as seemed to be token some new cause of alarm. What makes you look so flurried, asked Rose, advancing to meet him? Hardly know how. I feel as if I should be choked, replied the boy. Oh, dear, to think that I should see him at last and you should be able to know that I have told you the truth. I never thought you had told us anything but the truth, said Rose, soothing him. But what is this, of whom do you speak? I have seen the gentleman, replied Oliver, scarcely able to articulate. The gentleman who was so good to me, Mr. Brownlow, that we have so often talked about. Where, asked Rose? Getting out of a coach, replied Oliver, shedding tears of delight, and going into a house. I didn't speak to him. I couldn't speak to him, for he didn't see me, and I trembled so that I was not able to go up to him. But Giles asked for me whether he lived there, and they said he did. Look here, said Oliver, opening a scrap of paper. Here it is. Here's where he lives. I'm going there directly. Oh, dear me, dear me! What shall I do when I come to see him and hear him speak again? With her attention, not a little distracted by these and a great many other incoherent expressions of joy, Rose read the address, which was Craven Street, in the Strand. She very soon determined upon turning the discovery to account. Quick, she said, tell them to fetch a hackney-coach, and be ready to go with me. I will take you there directly, without a minute's loss of time. I will only tell my aunt that we are going out for an hour, and be ready as soon as you are. Oliver needed no prompting to dispatch, and in little more than five minutes they were on their way to Craven Street. When they arrived there, Rose left Oliver in the couch, under pretense of preparing the old gentleman to receive him, and sending up her card by the servant, requested to see Mr. Brownlow on very pressing business. The servant soon returned to beg that she would walk up stairs, and following him into an upper room Miss Maley was presented to an elderly gentleman of benevolent appearance in bottle-green coat, at no great distance from whom was seated another old gentleman in Nanking Bridges and Gators, who did not look particularly benevolent, and who was sitting with his hands clasped on the top of a thick stick and his chin propped thereupon. Dare me, said the gentleman in the bottle-green coat, hastily rising with great politeness. I beg your pardon, young lady. I imagine it was some important person who—I beg you, excuse me—be seated. Pray." Mr. Brownlow, I believe, sir, said Rose, glancing from the other gentleman to the one who had spoken. That is my name, said the old gentleman. This is my friend, Mr. Grimwig. Grimwig, will you leave us for a few minutes? I believe, interposed Miss Maley, that at this period of our interview I need not give that gentleman the trouble of going away. If I am correctly informed, he is cognizant of the business on which I wish to speak to you. Mr. Brownlow inclined his head. Mr. Grimwig, who had made one very stiff bow and risen from his chair, made another very stiff bow and dropped into it again. I shall surprise you very much, I have no doubt, said Rose, naturally embarrassed. But you once showed great benevolence and goodness to a very dear young friend of mine, and I am sure you will take an interest in hearing of him again." "'Indeed,' said Mr. Brownlow. "'All of her twist you knew him as,' replied Rose. The words no sooner escaped her lips than Mr. Grimwig, who had been affecting to dip into a large book that lay on the table, and set it with a great crash, and falling back in his chair, discharged from his features every expression but one of unmitigated wonder, and indulged in a prolonged and vacant stare, then, as if ashamed of having betrayed so much emotion, he jerked himself, as it were, by a convulsion into his former attitude, and looking out straight before him, emitted a long deep whistle, which seemed at last not to be discharged on empty air, but to die away in the innermost recesses of his stomach. Mr. Brownlow was no less surprised, although his astonishment was not expressed in the same eccentric manner. He drew his chair nearer to Miss Maley's, and said, "'Do me the favour, my dear young lady, to leave entirely out of the question that goodness and benevolence of which you speak, and of which nobody else knows anything. And if you have it in your power, to produce any evidence which will alter the unfavourable opinion I was once induced to entertain of that poor child, in heaven's name, put me in possession of it. A bad one! I'll eat my head if he is not a bad one!" growled Mr. Grimwig, speaking by some ventriloquial power, without moving a muscle of his face. "'He is a child of a noble nature and a warm heart,' said Rose, colouring, "'and that power which has thought fit to try him beyond his years has planted in his breast affections and feelings which would do honour to many who have numbered his days six times over.' "'I am only sixty-one,' said Mr. Grimwig, with the same rigid face. And as the devil's in it, this Oliver is not twelve years old, at least. I don't see the application of that remark.' "'Do not heed, my friend, Miss Maley,' said Mr. Brownlow. He does not mean what he says. "'Yes, he does,' growled Mr. Grimwig. "'No, he does not,' said Mr. Brownlow, obviously rising in wrath as he spoke. "'He'll eat his head if he doesn't,' growled Mr. Grimwig. "'He would deserve to have it knocked off if he does,' said Mr. Brownlow. "'And he'd uncommonly like to see any man offered to do it,' responded Mr. Grimwig, knocking his stick upon the floor. Having gone thus far, the two old gentlemen severally took snuff, and afterwards shook hands according to their invariable custom. "'Now, Miss Maley,' said Mr. Brownlow, "'to return to the subject in which your humanity is so much interested, will you let me know what intelligence you have of this poor child, allowing me to promise that I exhausted every means in my power of discovering him, and that since I have been absent from this country, my first impression that he has imposed upon me, and had been persuaded by his former associates to rob me, has been considerably shaken,' rose, who had had time to collect her thoughts, at once related, in a few natural words, all that had befallen Oliver since he left Mr. Brownlow's house, reserving Nancy's information for that gentleman's private ear, and concluding with the assurance that his only sorrow for some months past had been not being able to meet with his former benefactor and friend. "'Thank God,' said the old gentleman, "'this is great happiness to me, great happiness. But you have not told me where he is now, Miss Maley. You must pardon my finding fault with you. But why not have brought him?' "'He is waiting in a coach at the door,' replied Rose. "'At this door,' cried the old gentleman, with which he hurried out of the room, down the stairs up the coach-stap sent into the coach, without another word. When the room-door closed behind him, Mr. Grimwig lifted up his head, and converting one of the hind legs of his chair into a pivot, described three distinct circles with the assistance of his stick and the table, sitting in it all the time. After performing this evolution, he rose and limped as fast as he could, up and down the room at least a dozen times, and then stopping suddenly before Rose, kissed her without the slightest preface. "'Hush,' he said, as the young lady rose in some alarm at this unusual proceeding. "'Don't be afraid. I'm old enough to be your grandfather. You're a sweet girl. I like you. Here they are!' In fact, as he threw himself in one dexterous dive into his former seat, Mr. Brownlow returned, accompanied by Oliver, whom Mr. Grimwig received very graciously, and if the gratification of that moment had been the only reward for all her anxiety and care in Oliver's behalf, Rose Maley would have been well repaid. "'There is somebody else who should not be forgotten by the lie,' said Mr. Brownlow, ringing the bell. "'Said Mrs. Bedwin here, if you please.' The old host-keeper answered the summons with all dispatch, and dropping a curtsy at the door waited for orders. "'Why, you get blinder every day, Bedwin,' said Mr. Brownlow, rather testily. "'Well, that I do, sir,' replied the old lady. "'People's eyes at my time of life don't improve with age, sir. I could have told you that,' rejoined Mr. Brownlow. "'But put on your glasses, and see if you can't find out what you were wanted for, will you?' The old lady began to rummage in her pocket for her spectacles, but Oliver's patience was not proof against this new trial, and yielding to his first impulse he sprang into her arms. "'Caught be good to me,' cried the old lady, embracing him. "'It is my innocent boy. My dear old nurse,' cried Oliver. "'He would come back. I knew he would,' said the old lady, holding him in her arms. "'How well he looks, and how, like a gentleman's son, he has dressed again. Where have you been this long, long while? Ah, the same sweet face, but not so pale. The same soft eye, but not so sad. I have never forgotten them or his quiet smile, but have seen them every day, side by side, with those of my own dear children, dead and gone, since I was a lightsome young creature, running on thus, and now holding Oliver from her to mark how he had grown, now clasping him to her and passing her fingers fondly through his hair, the good soul laughed and wept upon his neck by turns. Leaving her and Oliver to compare notes at leisure, Mr. Brownlow led the way into another room, and there heard from Rose a full narration of her interview with Nancy which occasioned him no little surprise and perplexity. Rose also explained her reasons for not confiding in her friend Mr. Lozburn in the first instance. The old gentleman considered that she had acted prudently and readily undertook to hold solemn conference with the worthy doctor himself. To afford him an early opportunity for the execution of this design, it was a range that he should call at the hotel at eight o'clock that evening, and that in the meantime Mrs. Maley should be cautiously informed of all that had occurred. These preliminaries adjusted, Rose and Oliver returned home. Rose had by no means overrated the measure of the good doctor's wrath. Nancy's history was no sooner unfolded to him that he poured forth a shower of mangled threats and execrations, beginning to make her the first victim of the combined ingenuity of Mr. Blathers and Duff, and actually put on his hat preparatory to sallying forth to obtain the assistance of these worthies. And doubtless he would in this first outbreak have carried the intention into effect without a moment's consideration of the consequences, if he had not been restrained in part by corresponding violence on the side of Mr. Brownlow, who was himself of an irascible temperament, and party by such arguments and representations as seemed best calculated to dissuade him from his hot-brained purpose. "'Then what the devil is to be done,' said the impetuous doctor, when they had rejoined the two ladies, "'are we to pass a vote of thanks to all these vagabonds, male and female, and beg them to accept a hundred pounds or so apiece as a trifling mark of our esteem and some slight accomplishment of their kindness to Oliver?' Not exactly that, rejoined Mr. Brownlow, laughing, but we must proceed gently and with great care. "'Gentleness and care,' exclaimed the doctor, "'I'll send them one and all to never mind where,' interposed Mr. Brownlow, but reflect whether sending them anywhere is likely to attain the object we have in view.' "'What object?' asked the doctor. "'Simply the discovery of Oliver's parentage, and regaining for him the inheritance of which, if this story be true, he has been fraudulently deprived.' "'Ah!' said Mr. Lawsburn, cooling himself with his pocket-hankerchief. "'I had almost forgotten that.' "'You see,' pursued Mr. Brownlow, placing this poor girl entirely after the question, and supposing it were possible to bring these scoundrels to justice without compromising her safety, what good should we bring about?' Hanging a few of them, at least in all probability, suggested the doctor, and transporting the rest. "'Very good,' replied Mr. Brownlow, smiling, "'but no doubt they will bring that about for themselves in the fullness of time, and if we step in to forestall them, it seems to me that we shall be performing a very chaotic act in direct opposition to our interest, or at least to Oliver's, which is the same thing. How?' inquired the doctor. Thus it is quite clear that we shall have extreme difficulty in getting to the bottom of this mystery unless we can bring this man monks upon his knees. That can only be done by stratagem, and by catching him when he is not surrounded by these people. For suppose he were apprehended, we have no proof against him. He is not even, so far as we know, or as the facts appear to us, concerned with the gang in any of their robberies. If he were not discharged, it is very unlikely that he could receive any further punishment than being committed to prison as a rogue and vagabond, and, of course, ever afterwards his mouth would be so obstinately closed that he might as well for our purposes be deaf, dumb, blind, and an idiot. "'Then,' said the doctor impetuously, "'I put it to you again, whether you think it reasonable that this promise to the girl should be considered binding, a promise made with the best and kindest intentions, but really do not discuss the point, my dear young lady pray,' said Mr. Brownlow, interrupting Rose as she was about to speak, "'the promise shall be kept. I don't think it will in the slightest degree interfere with our proceedings. But before we can resolve upon any precise course of action it will be necessary to see the girl, to ascertain from her whether she will point out this monks on the understanding that he is to be dealt with by us and not by the law, or if she will not or cannot do that to procure from her such an account of his haunts and descriptions of his person as will enable us to identify him. She cannot be seen until next Sunday night. This is Tuesday. I would suggest that in the meantime we remained perfectly quiet, and keep these matters secret, even from Oliver himself.' Although Mr. Brownlow may cede with many rye faces a proposal involving a delay of five whole days, he was feigned to it bit that no better course occurred to him just then, and as both Rose and Mrs. Maylee cited very strongly with Mr. Brownlow, that gentleman's proposition was carried unanimously. "'I should like,' he said, "'to call in the aid of my friend Grimwig. He is a strange creature, but a shrewd one, and might prove of material assistance to us. I should say that he was bred a lager, and quitted the bar in disgust because he had only one brief and a motion of course in twenty years, though whether that is recommendation or not you must determine for yourselves. "'I have no objection to your calling, ingold friend. If I may call in mine,' said the doctor. "'We must put it to the vote,' replied Mr. Brownlow. "'Who may he be?' "'That lady's son, and this lady's very old friend,' said the doctor, motioning towards Mrs. Maylee, and concluding with an expressive glance at her niece. Rose blushed deeply, but she did not make any audible objection to this motion. Possibly she felt in a hopeless minority, and Harry Maylee and Mr. Grimwig were accordingly added to the committee. "'We stay in town, of course,' said Mrs. Maylee. "'Wow, there remains the slightest prospect of prosecuting this inquiry with a chance of success. I will spare neither trouble nor expense in behalf of the object in which we are all so deeply interested, and I am content to remain here if it be for twelve months, so long as you assure me that any hope remains.' "'Good,' rejoined Mr. Brownlow. "'And as I see on the faces about me, a disposition to inquire how it happened, that I was not in the way to corroborate Oliver's tale, and had so suddenly left the kingdom, let me stipulate that I shall be asked no questions until such time as I may deem it expedient to forestall them by telling my own story. Believe me, I make this request with good reason, for I must otherwise excite hope's destined never to be realized, and only increase difficulties and disappointments already quite numerous enough. Come! supper has been announced, and young Oliver, who was all alone in the next room, will have begun to think by this time that we have whirried of his company, and entered into some dark conspiracy to thrust him forth upon the world. With these words the old gentleman gave his hand to Mrs. Maley, and escorted her into the supper-room. Mr. Loisburn followed, leading Rose, and the council was, for the present, effectually broken up. End of Chapter 41 Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens Chapter 42 An old acquaintance of Oliver's, exhibiting decided marks of genius, becomes a public character in the metropolis. Upon the night, when Nancy, having lulled Mr. Sykes to sleep, hurried on her self-imposed mission to Rose Maley, there advanced towards London by the Great North Road, two persons upon whom it is expedient that this history should bestow some attention. They were a man and woman, or perhaps they would be better described as a male and female, for the former was one of those long-limbed, knock-kneed, shambling bony people, to whom it is difficult to assign any precise age, looking as they do when they are yet boys like undergrown men, and when they are almost men like overgrown boys. The woman was young, but of a robust and hearty make, as she need have been, to bear the weight of the heavy bundle which was strapped to her back. Her companion was not encumbered with much luggage, as they're merely dangled from a stick which he carried over his shoulder a small parcel wrapped in a common handkerchief, and apparently light enough. This circumstance added to the length of his legs, which were of unusual extent, enabled him, with much ease, to keep some half-dozen paces in advance of his companion, to whom he occasionally turned with an impatient jerk of the head, as if approaching her tardiness and urging her to greater exertion. Thus they had toiled along the dusty road, taking little heed of any object within sight, save when they stopped aside to allow a wider passage for the male coaches which were whirling out of town, until they passed through Highgate Archway, when the foremost traveller stopped and called impatiently to his companion. Come on, catcher! What a lazy-bones you are, Charlotte! It's a heavy load, I can tell you," said the female, coming up almost breathless with fatigue. Heavy! What are you talking about? What are you made for?" rejoined the male traveller, changing his own little bundle as he spoke to the other shoulder. "'Oh, there you are resting again. Well, if you ain't enough to tire anybody's patience out, I don't know what is.' "'Is it much farther?' asked the woman, resting herself against a bank and looking up with the perspiration streaming from her face. "'Much farther. You're as good as there,' said the long-legged tramper, pointing out before her. "'Look there. Those are the lights of London.' "'They're a good two-mile off, at least,' said the woman despondingly. "'Never mind whether they're two-mile off or twenty,' said Noah Claypole, for he it was. But get up and come on or I'll kick you, and so I give you notice.' As Noah's red nose grew redder with anger, it as he crossed the road while speaking, as if fully prepared to put his threat into execution, the woman rose without any further remark and trudged onward by his side. "'Where do you mean to stop for the night, Noah?' she asked, after they had walked a few hundred yards. "'How should I know,' replied Noah, whose temper had been considerably impaired by walking.' "'Near, I hope,' said Charlotte. "'No, not near,' replied Mr. Claypole. "'There, not near, so don't think it. Why not?' "'When I tell you that I don't mean to do a thing, that's enough, without any why or because, either,' replied Mr. Claypole, with dignity. "'Well, you needn't be so cross,' said his companion. "'A pretty thing it would be, wouldn't it, to go and stop at the very first public-house outside the town, so that sourberry, if he come up after us, might poke in his old nose and have us taken back in a cart with handcuffs on,' said Mr. Claypole, in a jeering tone. "'No. I shall go and lose myself among the narrowest streets I can find, and not stop till we come to the very out-of-the-wayest house I can set eyes on. "'Card, you may thinks you're stars I've got ahead. For if we hadn't gone at first the wrong road of purpose and come back across country, you'd have been locked up hard and faster a week ago, my lady, and serve you right for being a fool.' "'I know I ain't cunning as you are,' replied Charlotte. "'But don't put all the blame on me, and say I should have been locked up. You would have been if I had been anyway.' "'You took the money from the tale you know you did,' said Mr. Claypole. "'I took it for you, Noah, dear,' rejoined Charlotte. "'Did I keep it?' asked Mr. Claypole. "'No. You'd trust it in me, and let me carry it like a deer, and so you are,' said the lady, chucking him under the chin and drawing her arm through his. This was indeed the case. But as it was not Mr. Claypole's habit to repose a blind and foolish confidence in anybody, it should be observed, in justice to that gentleman, that he had trusted Charlotte to this extent, in order that, if they were pursued, the money might be found on her, which would leave him an opportunity of asserting his innocence of any theft, and would greatly facilitate his chances of escape. Of course he entered at this juncture, into no explanation of his motives, and they walked on very lovingly together. In pursuance of this cautious plan Mr. Claypole went on without halting until he arrived at the Angel at Islington, where he wisely judged from the crowd of passengers and number of vehicles that London began in earnest. Just pausing to observe which appeared the most crowded streets, and consequently the most to be avoided, he crossed into St. John's Road, and was soon deep in the obscurity of the intricate and dirty ways, which, lying between Gray's in Lane and Smithfield, render that part of the town one of the lowest and worst that improvement is left in the midst of London. Through these streets Noah Claypole walked, dragging Charlotte after him, now stepping into the kennel to embrace at a glance the whole exterior character of some small public house, now jogging on again as some fancied appearance induced him to believe it too public for his purpose. At length he stopped in front of one, more humble in appearance and more dirty than any he had yet seen, and having crossed over and surveyed it from the opposite pavement, graciously announced his intention of putting up there for the night. "'So give us the bundle,' said Noah, unstrapping it from the woman's shoulders and slinging it over his own, and don't you speak except when you're spoke to. What's the name of the house?' "'T-H-R-3-what,' cripples said Charlotte. Three cripples,' repeated Noah, and a very good sign, too. Now then, keep close at my heels and come along. With these injunctions he pushed the rattling door with his shoulder and entered the house followed by his companion. There was nobody in the bar but a young Jew who, with his two elbows on the counter, was reading a dirty newspaper. He stared very hard at Noah, and Noah stared very hard at him. If Noah had been attired in his charity-boy's dress there might have been some reason for the Jew opening his eyes so wide, but as he had discarded the coat and badged, and wore a short smockfrock over his leathers, there seemed no particular reason for his appearance exciting so much attention in a public house. "'Is this the three cripples?' asked the Noah. "'That is the Dave of this house,' replied the Jew. "'A gentleman we met on the road, coming up from the country, recommended us here,' said Noah, nudging Charlotte perhaps to call her attention to this most ingenious device for attracting respect, and perhaps to warn her to betray no surprise. We want to sleep here to-night.' "'Obdot certain you could,' said Barney, who was the attendant's sprite. "'Not all at choir. Show us the tap, and give us a bit of cold meat and a drop of beer while you're inquiring, will you?' said Noah. Barney complied by ushering them into a small back-room and setting the required vians before them. Having done which, he informed the travellers that they could be lodged that night, and left the amiable couple to their refreshment. Now this back-room was immediately behind the bar, and some steps lower, so that any person connected with the house, undrawing a small curtain which concealed a single pane of glass fixed in the wall of the last-named apartment, about five feet from its flooring, could not only look down upon any guests in the back-room without any great hazard of being observed, the glass being in a dark angle of the wall, between which, and a large upright being the observer had to thrust himself, but could, by applying his ear to the partition, ascertain with tolerable distinctness their subject of conversation. The landlord of the house had not withdrawn his eye from this place of a spiel for five minutes, and Barney had only just returned from making the communication above-related, when Fagan, in the course of his evening's business, came into the bar to inquire after some of his young pupils. Hush, said Barney, Strangers, into next-room. Strangers, repeated the old man in a whisper, I, I'd rubbudge, too, added Barney, from the cutery, but some began your way, or I'm bestaked. Fagan appeared to receive this communication with great interest. Mounting a stool, he cautiously applied his eye to the pane of glass, from which secret post he could see Mr. Claypole taking cold beef from the dish, and porter from the pot, and administering homeopathic doses of both to Charlotte, who sat patiently by, eating and drinking at his pleasure. Aha! he whispered, looking round to Barney. I like that fellow's looks. He'd be of use to us. He knows how to train the girl already. Don't make as much noise as a mouse, my dear, and let me hear him talk. Let me hear him. He again applied his eye to the glass, and, turning his ear to the partition, listened attentively with a subtle and eager look upon his face that might have appertained to some old goblin. So I mean to be a gentleman, said Mr. Claypole, kicking out his legs and continuing a conversation, the commencement of which Fagan had arrived too late to hear. No more jolly old coffin, Charlotte, but a gentleman's life for me, and if you like, you shall be a lady. I should like that well enough, dear," replied Charlotte, but Till's aimed to be emptied every day, and people to get clear off after it. Till's be blowed, said Mr. Claypole. There's more things besides Till's to be emptied. What do you mean? asked his companion. Pockets, women's ridicules, houses, male couches, banks, said Mr. Claypole, rising with the porter. But you can't do all that, dear," said Charlotte. I shall look out to get into company with them, as can, replied Noah. They'll be able to make us useful some way or another. Why, you yourself are worth fifty women. I never see such a precious sly and deceitful creature as you can be when I let you. Law how nice it is to hear you say so, exclaimed Charlotte, imprinting a kiss upon his ugly face. There, that'll do. But you'll be too affectionate in case I'm cross with you," said Noah, disengaging himself with great gravity. I should like to be the captain of some band, and have the whopping of them, and following them about unbeknown to themselves. That would suit me, if there was good profit, and we could only get in with some gentleman of this sort. I say it would be cheaper, that twenty-pound note you've got. Especially as we don't very well know how to get rid of it ourselves. After expressing this opinion, Mr. Claypole looked into the porter-pot with an aspect of deep wisdom, and, having well shaken its contents, nodded condescendingly to Charlotte, and took a draft, wherewith he appeared greatly refreshed. He was meditating another, when the sudden opening of the door and the appearance of a stranger interrupted him. The stranger was Mr. Fagin, and very amiable he looked, and a very low bow he made as he advanced, and, setting himself down at the nearest table, ordered something to drink of the grinning Barney. A pleasant night, sir, but cool for the time of year, said Fagin, rubbing his hands. From the country I see, sir. How do you see that? asked Noah Claypole. We have not so much dust as that in London, replied Fagin, pointing from Noah's shoes to those of his companion, and from them to the two bundles. You're a sharp fella, sir Noah. Only hear that, Charlotte. Why, one need be sharp in this town, my dear, replied the Jew, seeking his voice to a confidential whisper, and that's the truth. Fagin followed up this remark by striking the side of his nose with his right forefinger, a gesture which Noah attempted to imitate, though not with complete success, in consequence of his own nose not being large enough for the purpose. However, Mr. Fagin seemed to interpret the endeavour as expressing a perfect coincidence with his opinion, and put about the liquor which Barney reappeared with in a very friendly manner. Good stuff that, observed Mr. Claypole, smacking his lips. Dear, said Fagin, a man need be always emptying a till, or a pocket, or a woman's reticule, or a house, or a mail-coach, or a bank, if he drinks it regularly. Mr. Claypole no sooner heard this extract from his own remarks, that he fell back in his chair, and looked from the Jew to Charlotte, with accountants of ashy paleness and excessive terror. Don't mind me, my dear, said Fagin, drawing his chair closer. It was lucky it was only me that heard you by chance. It was very lucky it was only me. I didn't take it, stammered Noah, no longer stretching out his legs like an independent gentleman, but coiling them up as well as he could under his chair. It was all heard doing. You've got it now, Charlotte. You know you have. No matter who's got it or who did it, my dear, replied Fagin, glancing nevertheless with a hawk's eye at the girl and the two bundles. I'm in that way myself, and I like you for it. In what way? asked Mr. Claypole, a little recovering. In that way of business, rejoined Fagin. And so are the people of the house. You've hit the right nail upon the head, and are as safe here as you could be. There is not a safer place in all this town that is the cripples, that is, when I like to make it so, and I have taken a fancy to you with a young woman. So I've said the word, and you may make your minds easy. Noah Claypole's mind may have been at ease after this assurance, but his body certainly was not. For he shuffled and writhed about into various uncouth positions, eyeing his new friend, meanwhile, with mingled fear and suspicion. I'll tell you more, said Fagin, after he had reassured the girl, by dint of friendly nods and muttered encouragements. I have got a friend that I think can gratify your darling wish and put you in the right way, where you can take whatever department of the business you think will suit you best at first, and be taught all the others. Yes, speak as if you were an earnest, replied Noah. What advantage would it be to be to be anything else? inquired Fagin, shrugging his shoulders. Here, let me have a word with you outside. There's no question to trouble ourselves to move, said Noah, getting his legs by gradual degrees abroad again. She'll take the luggage upstairs the while, Charlotte, see to them bundles. This mandate, which had been delivered with great majesty, was obeyed without the slightest dimmier, and Charlotte made the best of her way off with the packages, while Noah held the door open and watched her out. She's kept tolerably well under, ain't she? He asked, as he resumed his seat in the tone of a keeper who had tamed some wild animal, quite perfect, rejoined Fagin, clapping him on the shoulder. You're a genius, my dear. Why, I suppose, if I wasn't, I shouldn't be here, replied Noah. But I say she'll be back if you lose time. Now, what do you think, said Fagin? If you was to like my friend, could you do better than join him? Is he in a good way of business? That's where it is," responded Noah, winking one of his little eyes. The top of the tree employs a power of hands, as the very best society in the profession. Regular town-maiders, asked Mr. Claypole. Not a countryman among them. And I don't think he'd take you, even on my recommendation, if he didn't run rather short of assistance just now," replied Fagin. Shouldn't I have to hand over, said Noah, slapping his bridge's pocket? It couldn't possibly be done without, replied Fagin, in a most decided manner. Twenty pound, though. It's a lot of money. Not when it's in a note you can't get rid of, retorted Fagin. Number and date taken, I suppose? Payments stopped at the bank? It's not worth much to him. It'll have to go abroad, and he couldn't sell it for a great deal in the market. When could I see him? asked Noah, doubtfully. Tomorrow morning. Where? Here? Hmm! said Noah. What's the wages? Live like a gentleman, board-end lodging, pipes and spirits free, half of all you earn, and half of all the young woman earns," replied Mr. Fagin. Later Noah Claypole, whose rapacity was none of the least comprehensive, would have acceded even to these glowing terms had he been a perfectly free agent, is very doubtful. But as he recollected that in the event of his refusal it was in the power of his new acquaintance to give him up to justice immediately, and more unlikely things had come to pass, he gradually relented, and said he thought that would suit him. What you see, observed Noah, as she will be able to do a good deal, I should like to take something very light. A little fancy work, suggested Fagin. Something of that sort, replied Noah. What do you think would suit me now? Something not too trying for this strength and not very dangerous, you know? That's the sort of thing." I heard you talk of something in the spy way upon the others, my dear, said Fagin. A friend wants somebody who would do that well, very much. Well, I did mention that, and I shouldn't mind turning my hand to it sometimes, rejoin Mr. Claypole slowly, but it wouldn't pay by itself, you know. That's true, observed the Jew, ruminating or pretending to ruminate. No, it might not. What do you think, then, asked Noah, anxiously regarding him? Something in the sneaking way, where it was pretty sure work, and not much more risk than being at home. What do you think of the old ladies, asked Fagin? There's a good deal of money made in snatching their bags and parcels and running round the corner. Don't they holler out a good deal and scratch sometimes, asked Noah, shaking his head? I don't think that would answer my purpose. Ate there any other line open? Stop, said Fagin, laying his hand on Noah's knee. The kinship bay. What's that, demanded Mr. Claypole? The kinship, my dear, said Fagin, is the young children that sent on errands by their mothers with sixpences and shillings, and the lay is just to take their money away. They've always got it ready in their hands. Then knock them into the kennel, and walk off very slow, as if there were nothing else to matter but a child fallen down and hurt itself. Ha! ha! roared Mr. Claypole, kicking up his legs in an ecstasy. Lord, that's the very thing! To be sure it is, replied Fagin, and you can have a few good beech chalked out in Camden, town and battle-bridge, and neighborhoods like that, where they're always going errands, and you can upset as many kinsions as you want, any hour in the day, ha! ha! With this, Fagin poked Mr. Claypole in the side, and they joined in a burst of laughter, both long and loud. Why, that's all right, said Noah, when he had recovered himself, and Charlotte had returned. What time to-morrow, shall we say? Will tendu, asked Fagin, adding, as Mr. Claypole nodded ascent, what name shall I tell my good friend? Mr. Bolta! replied Noah, who had prepared himself for such emergency. Mr. Morris Bolta! This is Mrs. Bolta. This is Mrs. Bolta's humble servant, said Fagin, bowing with grotesque politeness. I hope I shall know her better very shortly. Do you hear the gentleman Charlotte, thundered Mr. Claypole? Yes, Noah, dear, replied Mrs. Bolta, extending her hand. She calls me Noah, as a sort of fond way of talking, said Mr. Morris Bolta, late Claypole, turning to Fagin. You understand? Oh, yes, I understand, perfectly, replied Fagin, telling the truth for once. Good night, good night! With many adduce and good wishes, Mr. Fagin went his way. Noah Claypole, bespeaking his good lady's attention, proceeded to enlighten her relative to the arrangement he had made, with all the haughtiness and air of superiority, becoming not only a member of the sternor sex, but a gentleman who appreciated the dignity of a special appointment of the kitchen, lay in London, and its vicinity. End of Chapter 42 Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, Chapter 43, wherein is shown how the artful dodger got into trouble. And so it was you that was your own friend, was it, asked Mr. Claypole, otherwise Bolta, when, by virtue of the compact entered into between them, he had removed next day to Fagin's house. God, I thought as much last night! Every man's his own friend, my dear, replied Fagin, with his most insinuating grin. He hasn't a good one as himself anywhere. Except sometimes, replied Morris Bolta, assuming the air of a man of the world. Some people are nobody's enemies, but their own, you know. Don't believe that, said Fagin. When a man's his own enemy, it's only because he's too much his own friend, not because he's careful for everybody but himself. Poo-poo! There ain't such a thing in nature. There oughtn't to be, if there is, replied Mr. Bolta. That stands to reason. Some conchers say that number three is the magic number, and some say number seven. It's neither, my friend, neither. It's number one." Ha-ha! cried Mr. Bolta. Number one forever! In a little community like ours, my dear, said Fagin, who felt it necessary to qualify this position, we have a general number one without considering me too as the same and all the other young people. Oh, the devil, exclaimed Mr. Bolta. You see, pursued Fagin, affecting to disregard this interruption, we are so mixed up together and identified in our interest that it must be so. For instance, it's your object to take care of number one, meaning yourself. Certainly, replied Mr. Bolta, you're a boat right there. Well, you can't take care of yourself, number one, without taking care of me, number one. But to you mean, said Mr. Bolta, who was largely endowed with the quality of selfishness. No, I don't, retorted Fagin. I'm of the same importance as you, as you are to yourself. I say, interrupted Mr. Bolta, you're a very nice man and I'm very fond of you, but we ain't quite so thick together as all that comes to. Only think, said Fagin, shrugging his shoulders and stretching out his hands. Only consider. You've done what's a very pretty thing and what I love you for doing, but what, at the same time, would put the cravat round your throat, that's so very easily tied and so difficult to unloose, in plain English the halter. Mr. Bolta put his hand to his neckerchief, as if he felt it inconveniently tight, and murmured an assent, qualified in tone, but not in substance. The gallows, continued Fagin. The gallows, my dear, is an ugly finger-post which points out a very short and sharp turning that has stopped many a bold fellow's career on the broad highway. To keep in the easy road, and keep it at a distance, is object number one with you. Of course it is, replied Mr. Bolta. What do you talk about such things for? Only to show you my meaning clearly, said the Jew, raising his eyebrows. To be able to do that, you depend upon me. To keep my little business all snug, I depend upon you. The first is your number one, the second my number one. The more you value your number one, the more careful you must be of mine, so we come at last to what I told you at first, that a regard for number one holds us all together, and must do so, unless we would all go to pieces in company. That's true, rejoin Mr. Bolta thoughtfully. Oh, you're a cunning old codger! Mr. Fagan saw with delight that this tribute to his powers was no mere compliment, but that he had really impressed his regroup with a sense of his wily genius, which it was most important that he should entertain in the outset of their acquaintance. To strengthen an impression so desirable and useful, he followed up the blow by equating him in some detail with the magnitude and extent of his operations, blending truth and fiction together as best served his purpose, and bringing both to bear with so much art that Mr. Bolta's respect visibly increased and became tempered at the same time, with a degree of wholesome fear which it was highly desirable to awaken. It's this mutual trust we have in each other that consoles me under heavy losses, said Fagan. My best hand was taken from me yesterday morning. You don't mean to say he died, cried Mr. Bolta. No, no, replied Fagan. Not so bad as that, not quite so bad. What! I suppose he was wanted, interposed Fagan. Yes, he was wanted. Very particular, inquired Mr. Bolta. No, replied Fagan, not very. He was charged with attempting to pick a pocket, and they found a silver snuff-box on him. His own, my dear, his own, for he took snuff himself and was very fond of it. They remanded him till to-day, for they thought they knew the owner. Ah! He was worth fifty boxes, and I'd give the price of as many to have him back. You should have known the dodger, my dear, you should have known the dodger. Well, but I shall know him, I hope, don't you think so, said Mr. Bolta. I'm doubtful about it, replied Fagan, with a sigh. If they don't get any fresh evidence, it'll only be a summary conviction, and we shall have him back again after six weeks or so. But if they do, it's a case of lagging. They know what a clever lad he is. He'll be a lifer. They'll make the artful nothing less than a lifer. What do you mean by lagging and a lifer, demanded Mr. Bolta? What's the good of talking in that way to me? Why don't you speak so I can understand you?" Fagan was about to translate these mysterious expressions into the vulgar tongue, and being interpreted, Mr. Bolta would have been informed that they represented that combination of words, transportation for life, when the dialogue was cut short by the entry of master Bates, with his hands in his britches' pockets, and his face twisted into a look of semi-comical woe. It's all up, Fagan, said Charlie, when he and his new companion had been made known to each other. What do you mean? They found the gentleman his owns the box, two or three more is a common to identify him, and the artful's booked for a passage out, replied Master Bates. I must have a full suit of mourning, Fagan, and a hat-band to visit him in, before he sets out upon his travels, to think of Jack Dawkins, Lummi Jack, the Dodger, the artful Dodger, going abroad for a common tappity-hapity-sneeze-box. I never thought he'd had done it under a gold-watch chain and seals at the lowest, or why don't he rob some rich old gentleman of all his valables, and go out as a gentleman and not as a common prig without no honour nor glory. With this expression of feeling, for his unfortunate friend, Master Bates sat himself on the nearest chair, with an aspect of chagrin and despondency. Why do you talk about his having neither honour nor glory for, exclaimed Fagan, darting an angry look at his pupil? Wasn't he always the topsoiler among you all? Is there one of you that could touch him or come near him on any saint, eh? Not one, replied Master Bates, in a voice rendered husky by regret. Not one. Then what do you talk of, replied Fagan angrily? What are you blubbering for? "'Cause it isn't on the record, is it?' said Charlie, chafed into perfect defiance of his venerable friend by the current of his regrets. "'Cause it can't cut out in the dikement, cause nobody will never know half of what he was. How will he stand in the Newgate calendar? Perhaps not be there at all. Oh, my eye, my eye, what a blow it is!' Ha! Ha! cried Fagan, extending his right hand and turning to Mr. Bolter in a fit of chuckling, which shook him as though he had the palsy. See what a pride they'd taken their profession, my dear! Ain't it beautiful?" Mr. Bolter nodded assent, and Fagan, after contemplating the grief of Charlie Bates for some seconds with evident satisfaction, stepped up to that young gentleman and patted him on the shoulder. "'Never mind, Charlie,' said Fagan, soothingly. "'It'll come out. It'll be sure to come out. They all know what a clever fellow he was. He'll show it himself and not disgrace his old pals and teachers. Think how young he is, too! What a distinction, Charlie, to be lagged at his time of life!' "'Well, it is an honour that is,' said Charlie, a little consoled. He shall have all he wants, continued the Jew. He shall be kept in the stone jug, Charlie, like a gentleman, like a gentleman, with his beer every day and money in his pocket to pitch and toss with, if he can't spend it.' "'No, Shelley, though,' cried Charlie Bates. "'I that he shall,' replied Fagan. "'And we'll have a big wig, Charlie, one that's got the greatest get to the gab to carry on his defence, and he shall make a speech for himself, too, if he likes, and we'll read it all in the papers. Artful dodger, sreeks of laughter, here the court was convulsed. Eh, Charlie, eh?' "'Ha, ha!' laughed Master Bates. What a lock that would be, wouldn't it, Fagan? I say, how the artful would bother him, wouldn't he?' "'Wood,' cried Fagan. "'He shall. He will. Ah, to be sure so he will,' repeated Charlie, rubbing his hands. "'I think I see him now,' cried the Jew, bending his eyes upon his pupil. "'So do I,' cried Charlie Bates. Ha, ha, ha! So do I. I see it all a-forming upon my soul, I do, Fagan. What a game! What a regular game! All the big-wigs tried to look solemn, and Jack Dawkins and Dressen of him as intermittent, comfortable as if he was the judge's own son making a speech out of dinner. Ha, ha, ha!' In fact Mr. Fagan had so well humoured his young friend's eccentric disposition, that Master Bates, who had at first been disposed to consider the imprisoned dodger rather in the light of a victim, now looked upon him as the chief actor in a scene of most uncommon and exquisite humour, and felt quite impatient for the arrival of the time when his old companion should have so favourable an opportunity of displaying his abilities. "'We must know how he gets on to-day by some handy means or other,' said Fagan. "'Let me think.' "'Shall I go?' asked Charlie. "'Not for the world,' replied Fagan. "'Are you mad, my dear Stark-man, that you'd walk into the very place where—' "'No, Charlie. No. One is enough to lose at a time.' "'You don't mean to go yourself, I suppose,' said Charlie, with a humorous leer. "'That wouldn't quite fit,' replied Fagan, shaking his head. "'Then why don't you send this new co-ass Master Bates laying his hand on Noah's arm? Nobody knows him.' "'Why, if he don't mind,' observed Fagan. "'Mind,' interposed Charlie, what should he have to mind?' "'Really nothing, my dear,' said Fagan, turning to Mr. Bolter. "'Really nothing.' "'Oh, I dare say about that, you know,' observed Noah, backing towards the door and shaking his head with a kind of sober alarm. "'No, no. None of that. It's not in my department that, ain't.' "'What department has he got, Fagan?' inquired Master Bates, surveying Noah's lank form, with much disgust. The cutting away when there's anything wrong, and the eating all the whittles when there's everything right, is that his branch?' "'Never mind,' retorted Mr. Bolter. "'And don't yet take liberties with your superior, little boy, or you'll find yourself in the wrong shop.' Mr. Bates laughed so vehemently at this magnificent threat, that it was some time before Fagan could interpose, and represent to Mr. Bolter, that he incurred no possible danger in visiting the police office, that inasmuch as no account of the little affair at which he had engaged, nor any description of his person had yet been forwarded to the metropolis, it was very probable that he was not even suspected of having resorted to it for shelter, and that if he were properly disguised it would be as safe a spot for him to visit as any in London, inasmuch as it would be, of all places the very last to which he could be supposed likely to resort to his own free will. Persuaded in part by these representations, but overborn in a much greater degree by his fear of Fagan, Mr. Bolter at length consented with very bad grace to undertake the expedition. By Fagan's directions he immediately substituted for his own attire a wagoner's truck, velveteen-bridges, and leather leggings, all of which articles the Jew had at hand. He was likewise furnished with a felt hat well-garnished with turnpike tickets and a carter's whip. Thus equipped he was to saunter into the office as some countryfellow from Covent Garden Market might be supposed to do for the gratification of his curiosity, and as he was as awkward, ungainly, and rob-boned as fellow as need be, Mr. Fagan had no fear but that he would look the part to perfection. These arrangements completed. He was informed of the necessary signs and tokens by which to recognize the artful dodger, and was conveyed by master-baits through dark and winding ways to within a very short distance of Bow Street. Having described the precise situation of the office, and accompanied it with copious directions how he was to walk straight up the passage, and when he got into the side and pull off his hat as he went into the room, Charlie Bates bat him hurry on a load, and promised to bide his return on the spot of their parting. Noah Claypole, or Morris Bolter, as the reader pleases, punctually followed the directions he had received, which, master Bates being pretty well equated with the locality, were so exact that he was unable to gain the magisterial presence without asking any questions or meeting with any interruption by the way. He found himself jostled among a crowd of people, chiefly women, who were huddled together in a dirty, frowsy room at the upper end of which a raised platform railed off from the rest, with a dock for the prisoners on the left hand against the wall, a box for the witnesses in the middle, and a desk for the magistrates on the right, the awful locality last named being screened off by a partition which concealed the bench from the common gaze, and left the vulgar to imagine, if they could, the full majesty of justice. There were only a couple of women in the dock who were nodding to their admiring friends, while the clock read some depositions to a couple of policemen and a man in plain clothes who lent over the table. A jailer stood reclining against the dock rail, tapping his nose listlessly with a large key, except when he repressed an undue tendency to conversation among the idlers, by proclaiming silence, or looked sternly up to bid some woman take that baby out, where the gravity of justice was disturbed by feeble cries, half smothered in the mother's shawl, the room smelt close and unwholesome, the walls were dirt-discoloured, and the ceiling blackened. There was an old smoky bust over the mantel shelf and a dusty clock above the dock. The only thing present that seemed to go on as it ought, for depravity or poverty or unhabitual acquaintance with both, had left a taint on all the animate matter, hardly less unpleasant than the thick, greasy scum on every inanimate object that frowned upon it. Noah looked eagerly about him for the dodger. But although there were several women who would have done very well for that distinguished character's mother or sister, and more than one man who might be supposed to bear a strong resemblance to his father, nobody at all answering the description given him of Mr. Dawkins was to be seen. He waited in a state of much suspense and uncertainty until the women, being committed for trial, went flaunting out, and then was quickly relieved by the appearance of another prisoner, who he felt at once could be no other than the object of his visit. It was indeed Mr. Dawkins, who shuffling into the office with the big coat-sleeves tucked up as usual, his left hand in his pocket, and his hat in his right hand preceded the jailer, with a rolling gate altogether indescribable, and taking his place in the dock requested, in an audible voice, to know what he was placed in that ere disgraceful situation for. "'Hold your tongue, will you?' said the jailer. "'I'm an Englishman, ain't I?' rejoined the dodger. "'Where are my privileges?' "'You'll get your privileges soon enough,' retorted the jailer, and pepper with him.' "'We'll see what the Secretary of State for the Home Affairs has got to say to the beaks if I doubt,' replied Mr. Dawkins. "'Now then, what is this here business? I shall thank the madstretch to dispose of this here little affair, and not to keep me while they read the paper, for I've had appointment with a gentleman in the city, and as I'm a man of my word, and wary punctual in business matters, he'll go away if I ain't there to my time, and then perhaps there won't be an action for damage against him as kept me away. Oh, no, certainly not. At this point the dodger, with a show of being very particular, with a view to proceedings to be had thereafter, desired the jailer to communicate the names of them two files as was on the bench, which so tickled the spectators that they laughed almost as heartily as Master Bates could have done if he had heard the request. "'Silence there,' cried the jailer. "'What is this?' inquired one of the magistrates. "'A pickpocketing case, your worship. Has the boy ever been here before?' "'He ought to have been a many times,' replied the jailer. "'He has been pretty well everywhere else. I know him well, your worship.' "'Oh, you know me, do you?' cried the artful, making a note of the statement. Very good. That's a case of defamation of character, anyway. Here there was another laugh and another cry of silence. "'Now, then, where are the witnesses?' said the clerk. "'Oh, that's right, out of the dodger. Where are they? I should like to see them.' The wish was immediately gratified, for a policeman stepped forward who had seen the prisoner attempt the pocket of an unknown gentleman in a crowd, and indeed take a haggach if they're from, which, being a very old one, he deliberately put back again after trying it on his own countenance. For this reason he took the dodger into custody as soon as he could get near him, and the said dodger being searched, had upon his person a silver snuff-box with the owner's name engraved upon the lid. This gentleman had been discovered on reference to the court-guide, and being then and there present, swore that the snuff-box was his and that he had missed it on the previous day the moment he had disengaged himself from the crowd before referred to. He had also remarked a young gentleman in the throng, particularly active in making his way about, and that young gentleman was the prisoner before him. "'Have you anything to ask this witness, boy?' said the magistrate. "'I wouldn't abase myself by descending to hold no conversation with him,' replied the dodger. "'Have you anything to say at all? Do you hear his worship ask if you have anything to say?' inquired the jailer, nudging the silent dodger with his elbow. "'I beg your pardon,' said the dodger, looking up with an air of abstraction. "'Did you redress yourself to me, my man?' "'I never see such an out-and-out young wagabanya-worship,' observed the officer, with a grin. "'Do you mean to say anything, you young shaver?' "'No,' replied the dodger, not here, for this ain't the shop for justice. Besides which, my attorney is a breakfasting this morning, with the vice-president of the House of Commons. "'But I shall have something to say elsewhere, and so will he. And so will a weary numerous inspectable circle of acquaintances, as I'll make them beaks wish they had never been born, or that they'd got their footmen to hang them up to their own hat-pegs, before they let him come out this morning to try it upon me. "'Oh, there, he's fully committed,' it opposed the clerk. "'Take him away. Come on,' said the jailer. "'Oh, I'll come on,' replied the dodger, brushing his hat with the paw of his hand. "'Ah, to the bench. It's no use, you're looking frighten. I won't show you no mercy, not a hipoth of it. You'll pay for this, my fine fellas. I wouldn't be you for something. I wouldn't go free now if you were to fall down on your knees and ask me. Here. Carry me off to prison. Take me away.'" With these last words the dodger suffered himself to be led off by the caller, threatening, till he got into the yard, to make a parliamentary business of it, and then grinning in the officer's face with great glee and self-approval. Having seen him locked up by himself in a little cell, Noah made the best of his way back to where he had left Master Bates. After waiting here some time he was joined by that young gentleman, who had prudently abstained from showing himself until he had looked carefully abroad from a snug retreat, and ascertained that his new friend had not been followed by any impertinent person. The two hastened back together to bear to Mr. Fagan the animating news that the dodger was doing full justice to his bringing up, and establishing for himself a glorious reputation.