out at one of the public-house windows behind a little red curtain, with his hat on, already to bolt at a moment's notice. He was smoking his pipe here late at night, when all of a sudden Chickweed roars "Here he is! Stop thief! Murder!' Jem Spyers dashes out; and there he sees Chickweed tearing down the street full-cry. Away goes Spyers; on keeps Chickweed; round turns the people; everybody roars out, 'Thieves!' and Chickweed himself keeps on shouting all the time, like mad. Spyers loses sight of him a minute as he turns a corner shoots round. sees a little crowd dives in. "Which is the man?' 'D-me!" says Chickweed, 'I've lost him again!' ---- "It was a remarkable occurrence, but he warn't to be seen nowhere, so they went back to the public-house; and next morning, Spyers took his old place, and looked out from behind the curtain for a tall man with a black patch over his eye, till his own two eyes ached again. At last, he couldn't help shutting 'em to ease 'em a minute, and the very moment he did so, he hears Chickweed roaring out, 'Here he is!' Off he starts one more, with Chickweed half-way down the street a-head of him; and after twice as long a run as the yesterday's one, the man's lost again! This was done once or twice more, till one-half the neighbours gave out that Mr. Chickweed had been robbed by the devil, who was playing tricks with him arterwards; and the other half, that poor Mr. Chickweed had gone mad with grief." 'What did Jem Spyers say?" inquired the doctor, who had returned to the room shortly after the commencement of the story. "Jem Spyers," resumed the officer, "for a long time said nothing at all, and listened to everything without seeming to, which showed he understood his business. But one morning he walked into the bar, and taking out his snuff-box, said, 'Chickweed, I've found out who 's done this here robbery.' 'Have you?' said Chickweed. - 'Oh, my dear Spyers, only let me have wengeance, and I shall die contented! Oh, my dear Spyers, where is the villain?' 'Come!' said Spyers, offering him a pinch of snuff, 'none of that gammon! You did it yourself.' So he had; and a good bit of money he had made by it, too; and nobody would ever have found it out, if he hadn't been so precious anxious to keep up appearances; that's more!" said Mr. Blathers, putting down his wine-glass, and clinking the handcuffs together. "Very courious, indeed," observed the doctor. "Now, if you please, you can walk up stairs." "If you please, Sir," returned Mr. Blathers; and closely following Mr. Losberne, the two officers ascended to Oliver's bedroom, Mr. Giles preceding the party with a lighted candle. Oliver had been dozing, but looked worse, and was more feverish than he had appeared yet. Being assisted by the doctor, he managed to sit up in bed for a minute or so, and looked at the strangers without at all understanding what was going forward, and, in fact, without seeming to recollect where he was, or what had been passing. "This," said Mr. Losberne, speaking softly, but with vehemence notwithstanding, "this is the lad, who, being accidentally wounded by a spring-gun in some boyish trespass on Mr. What-d'ye-call-him's grounds, at the back here, comes to the house for assistance this morning, and is immediately laid hold of and maltreated by that ingenious gentleman with the candle in his hand, who has placed his life in considerable danger, as I can professionally certify." Messrs. Blathers and Duff looked at Mr. Giles, as he was thus recommended to their notice; and the bewildered butler gazed from them towards Oliver, and from Oliver towards Mr. Losberne, with a most ludicrous mixture of fear and perplexity. "You don't mean to deny that, I suppose?" said the doctor, laying Oliver gently down again. "It was all done for the - for the best, Sir!" answered Giles. "I am sure I thought it was the boy, or I wouldn't have meddled with him. I am not of an inhuman disposition, Sir.” Thought it was what boy?" inquired the senior officer. "The housebreaker's boy, Sir!" replied Giles. "They they certainly had a boy." 'Well, do you think so now?" inquired Blathers. "Think what, now?" replied Giles, looking vacantly at his questioner. Oliver Twist. 16 "Think it's the same boy, stupid-head?" rejoined Mr. Blathers, impatiently. "I don't know; I really don't know," said Giles, with a rueful countenance. "I couldn't swear to him." "What do you think?" asked Mr. Blathers. "I don't know what to think," replied poor Giles. "I don't think it is the boy; indeed, I'm almost certain that it isn't. You know it can't be." "Has this man been a-drinking, Sir?" inquired Blathers, turning to the doctor. “ What a precious muddle-headed chap you are!" said Duff, addressing Mr. Giles, with supreme contempt. Mr. Losberne had been feeling the patient's pulse during this short dialogue; but he now rose from the chair by the bedside, and remarked, that if the officers had any doubts upon the subject, they would perhaps like to step into the next room, and have Brittles before them. Acting upon this suggestion, they adjourned to a neighbouring apartment, where Mr. Brittles, being called in, involved himself and his respected superior in such a wonderful maze of fresh contradictions and impossibilities as tended to throw no particular light upon any thing, save the fact of his own strong mystification; except, indeed, his declarations that he shouldn't know the real boy if he were put before him that instant; that he had only taken Oliver to be he, because Mr. Giles had said he was; and that Mr. Giles had, five minutes previously, admitted in the kitchen that he began to be very much afraid he had been a little too hasty. Among other ingenious surmises, the question was then raised, whether Mr. Giles had really hit anybody, and upon examination of the fellow pistol to that which he had fired, it turned out to have no more destructive loading than gunpowder and brown paper, a discovery which made a considerable impression on every body but the doctor, who had drawn the ball about ten minutes before. Upon no one, however, did it make a greater impression than on Mr. Giles himself; who, after labouring for some hours under the fear of having mortally wounded a fellow creature, eagerly caught at this new idea, and favoured it to the utmost. Finally, the officers, without troubling themselves very much about Oliver, left the Chertsey constable in the house, and took up their rest for that night in the town, promising to return next morning. With the next morning there came a rumour that two men and a boy were in the cage at Kingston, who had been apprehended over-night under suspicious circumstances; and to Kingston Messrs. Blathers and Duff journeyed occordingly. The suspicious circumstances, however, resolving themselves, on investigation, into the one fact, that they had been discovered sleeping under a haystack, which although a great crime, is only punishable by imprisonment, and is, in the merciful eye of the English law, and its comprehensive love of all the king's subjects, held to be no satisfactory proof, in the absence of all other evidence, that the sleeper, or sleepers, have committed burglary accompanied with violence, and have therefore rendered themselves liable to the punishment of death Messrs. Blathers and Duff came back again as wise as they went. In short, after some more examination, and a great deal more conversation, a neighbouring magistrate was readily induced to take the joint bail of Mrs. Maylie and Mr. Losberne for Oliver's appearance if he should ever be called upon; and Blathers and Duff, being rewarded with a couple of guineas, returned to town with divided opinions on the subject of their expedition: the latter gentleman, on a mature consideration of all the circumstances, inclining to the belief that the burglarious attempt had originated with the Family Pet; and the former being equally disposed to concede the full merit of it to the great Mr. Conkey Chickweed. Meanwhile, Oliver gradually throve and prospered under the united care of Mrs. Maylie, Rose, and the kind-hearted Mr. Losberne. If fervent prayers, gushing from hearts overcharged with gratitude, be heard in heaven and if they be not, what prayers are? the blessings which the orphan child called down upon them sunk into their souls, diffusing peace and happiness. CHAPTER XXXI. Of the happy life Oliver began to lead with his kind friends. which hung about OLIVER'S ailings were neither slight nor few. In addition to the pain and delay attendant upon a broken limb, his exposure to the wet and cold had brought on fever and ague, him for many weeks, and reduced him sadly. But at length he began, by slow degrees, to get better, and to be able to say sometimes, in a few tearful words, how deeply he felt the goodness of the two sweet ladies, and how ardently he hoped that, when he grew strong and well again, he could do something to show his gratitude; only something which would let them see the love and duty with which his breast was full; something, however slight, which would prove to them that their gentle kindness had not been cast away, but that the poor boy whom their charity had rescued from misery, or death, was eager and anxious to serve them with all his heart and soul. "Poor fellow!" said Rose, when Oliver had been one day feebly endeavouring to utter the words of thankfulness that rose to his pale lips, "you shall have many opportunities of serving us, if you will. We are going into the country, and my aunt intends that you shall accompany us. The quiet place, the pure air, and all the pleasures and beauties of spring, will restore you in a few days, and we will employ you in a hundred ways when you can bear the trouble." "The trouble!" cried Oliver. "Oh! dear lady, if I could but work for you - if I could only give you pleasure by watering your flowers, or watching your birds, or running up and down the whole day long to make you happy, what would I give to do it?" "You shall give nothing at all," said Miss Maylie, smiling; "for, as I told you before, we shall employ you in hundred ways; and if you only take half the trouble to please us that you promise now, you will make me very happy indeed." "Happy, ma'am!" cried Oliver; "oh, how kind of you to say so!" "You will make me happier than I can tell you," replied the |