and beholding a light shining through the glass-window of the little parlour at the back of the shop, he made bold to peep in and see what was going forward; and, when he saw what was going forward, he was not a little surprised. The cloth was laid for supper, and the table was strewed with bread and butter, plates and glasses, a pewter-pot, and a wine-bottle. At the upper end of the table Mr. Noah Claypole lolled negligently in an easy-chair with his legs thrown over one of the arms, an open clasp-knife in one hand, and a mass of buttered bread in the other; close beside him stood Charlotte, opening oysters from a barrel, which Mr. Claypole condescended to swallow with remarkable avidity. A more than ordinary redness in the region of the young gentleman's nose, and a kind of fixed wink in his right eye, denoted that he was in a slight degree intoxicated; and these symptoms were confirmed by the intense relish with which he took his oysters, for which nothing but a strong appreciation of their cooling properties in cases of internal fever could have sufficiently accounted. "Here's a delicious fat one, Noah dear!" said Charlotte; "try him, do; only this one." "What a delicious thing is a oyster!" remarked Mr. Claypole after he had swallowed it. “What a pity it is a number of 'em should ever make you feel uncomfortable, isn't it, Charlotte ?" "It's quite a cruelty," said Charlotte. "So it is," acquiesced Mr. Claypole. "Ain't yer fond of oysters?" 66 Not over-much," replied Charlotte. "I like to see you eat 'em, Noah dear, better than eating them myself." "Lor'!" said Noah reflectively; "how queer!" "Have another?" said Charlotte. "Here's one with such a beautiful, delicate beard!" "I can't manage any more," said Noah. "I'm very sorry. Come here, Charlotte, and I'll kiss yer." 10 en terror. "Say it again, you vile, owdacious fellow!" said Mr. Bumble. "How dare you mention such a thing, sir? and how dare you encourage him, you insolent minx? Kiss her!" exclaimed Mr. Bumble in strong indignation. "Faugh!" "I didn't mean to do it!" said Noah, blubbering. "She's always a-kissing of me, whether I like it or not." "Oh, Noah!" cried Charlotte reproachfully. "Yer are, yer know yer are!" retorted Noah. "She's always a-doing of it, Mr. Bumble, sir; she chucks me under the chin, please sir, and makes all manner of love!" "Silence!" cried Mr. Bumble sternly. "Take yourself down stairs, ma'am! Noah, you shut up the shop, and say another word till your master comes home at your peril; and, when he does come home, tell him that Mr. Bumble said he was to send an old woman's shell after breakfast to-morrow morning. Do you hear, sir? Kissing!" cried Mr. Bumble, holding up his hands. "The sin and wickedness of the lower orders in this porochial district is frightful; if parlia ment don't take their abominable courses under consideration, this country's ruined, and the character of the peasantry gone for ever!" With these words the beadle strode, with a lofty and gloomy air, from the undertaker's premises. And now that we have accompanied him so far on his road home, and have made all necessary preparations for the old woman's funeral, let us set on foot a few inquiries after young Oliver Twist, and ascertain whether he be still lying ir the ditch where Toby Crackit left him. CHAPTER THE SIXTH. Looks after Oliver, and proceeds with his adventures. "WOLVES, tear your throats!" muttered Sikes, grinding his teeth; "I wish I was among some of you; you'd howl the hoarser for it." As Sikes growled forth this imprecation with the most desperate ferocity that his desperate nature was capable of, he rested the body of the wounded boy across his bended knee, and turned his head for an instant to look back at his pursuers. There was little to be made out in the mist and darkness; but the loud shouting of men vibrated through the air, and the barking of the neighbouring dogs, roused by the sound of the alarm bell, resounded in every direction. "Stop, you white-livered hound!" cried the robber, shouting after Toby Crackit, who, making the best use of his long legs, was already ahead,-"stop!" The repetition of the word brought Toby to a dead stand-still, for he was not quite satisfied that he was beyond the range of pistol-shot, and Sikes was in no mood to be played with. "Bear a hand with the boy," roared Sikes, beckoning furiously to his confede"Come back!" rate. Toby made a show of returning, but ventured in a low voice, broken for want of breath, to intimate considerable reluctance as he came slowly along. "Quicker!" cried Sikes, laying the boy in a dry ditch at his feet, and drawing a pistol from his pocket. "Don't play the booby with me." At this moment the noise grew louder, and Sikes again looking round, could discern that the men who had given chase were already climbing the gate of the field in which he stood, and that a couple of dogs were some paces in advance of them. "It's all up, Bill," cried Toby, "drop the kid and show 'em your heels." With this parting advice, Mr. Crackit, preferring the chance of being shot by his friend to the certainty of being taken by his enemies, fairly turned tail, and darted off at full speed. Sikes clenched his teeth, took one look round, threw over the prostrate form of Oliver the cape in which he had been hurriedly muffled, ran along the front of the hedge as if to distract the attention of those behind, from the spot where the boy lay, paused for a second before another hedge which met it at right angles, and whirling his pistol high into the air, cleared it at a bound and was gone. "Ho, ho, there!" cried a tremulous voice in the rear. "Pincher, Neptune, come here, come here!" The dogs, which, in common with their masters, seemed to have no particular relish for the sport in which they were engaged, readily answered to this command: and three men, who had by this time advanced some distance into the field, stopped to take counsel together. 66 My advice, or leastways I should say, my orders is," said the fattest man of the party, "that we 'mediately go home again." "I am agreeable to anything which is agreeable to Mr. Giles," said a shorter man, who was by no means of a slim figure, and who was very pale in the face, and very polite, as frightened men frequently are. "I shouldn't wish to appear ill-mannered, gentlemen," said the third, who had called the dogs back, "Mr. Giles ought to know." 66 Certainly," replied the shorter man; "and whatever Mr. Giles says, it isn't our place to contradict him. No, no, I know my sitiwation, thank my stars I know my sitiwation." To tell the truth, the little man did seem to know his situation, and to know perfectly well that it was by no means a desirable one, for his teeth chattered in his head as he spoke. "You are afraid, Brittles," said Mr. Giles. "I ain't," said Brittles. "You are," said Giles. "You're a falsehood, Mr. Giles," said Brittles. "You're a lie, Brittles," said Mr. Giles. Now, these four retorts arose from Mr. Giles's taunt, and Mr. Giles's taunt had arisen from his indignation at having the responsibility of going home again imposed upon himself under cover of a compliment. The third man brought the dispute to a close most philosophically. "I'll tell you what it is, gentlemen,' said he, "we 're all afraid." 66 Speak for yourself, sir," said Mr Giles, who was the palest of the party. "So I do," replied the man. "It's natural and proper to be afraid, under such circumstances: I am." "So am I," said Brittles, "only there 's no call to tell a man he is, so bounceably." These frank admissions softened Mr Giles, who at once owned that he was afraid; upon which they all three faced about and ran back again with the completest unanimity, till Mr. Giles (who had the shortest wind of the party, and was encumbered with a pitchfork) most handsomely insisted upon stopping to make an apology for his hastiness of speech. "But it's wonderful," said Mr. Giles, when he had explained, "what a man will do when his blood is up. I should have committed murder, I know I should, if we'd caught one of the rascals." As the other two were impressed with a similar presentiment, and their blood, like his, had all gone down again, some speculation ensued upon the cause of this sudden change in their temperament. "I know what it was," said Mr. Giles; "it was the gate." "I shouldn't wonder if it was," exclaimed Brittles, catching at the idea. "You may depend upon it," said Giles, "that that gate stopped the flow of the excitement. I felt all mine suddenly going away as I was climbing over it." By a remarkable coincidence the other two had been visited with the same unpleasant sensation at that precise moment; so that it was quite conclusive that it was the gate, especially as there was no doubt regarding the time at which the change had taken place, because all three remembered that they had come in sight of the robbers at the very instant of its occurrence. This dialogue was held between the two men who had surprised the burglars, and a travelling tinker, who had been sleeping in an outhouse, and who had been roused, together with his two mongrel curs, to join in the pursuit. Mr. Giles acted in the double capacity of butler and steward to the old lady of the mansion, and Brittles was a lad of all work, who having entered her service a mere child, was treated as a promising young boy still, though he was something past thirty. Encouraging each other with such converse as this, but keeping very close together notwithstanding, and looking apprehensively round whenever a fresh gust rattled through the boughs, the three men hurried back to a tree, behind which they had left their lantern, lest its light should inform the thieves in what direction to fire. Catching up the light, they made the best of their way home at a good round trot; and long after their dusky forms had ceased to be discernible, it might have been seen twinkling and dancing in the distance, like some exha lation of the damp and gloomy atmosphere through which it was swiftly borne. The air grew colder as day came slowly on, and the mist rolled along the ground like a dense cloud of smoke; the grass was wet, the pathways and low places were all mire and water, and the damp breath of an unwholesome wind went languidly by with a hollow moaning. Still Oliver lay motionless and insensible on the spot where Sikes had left him. Morning drew on apace; the air became more sharp and piercing as its first dull hue-the death of night rather than the birth of day glimmered faintly in the sky. The objects which had looked dim and terrible in the darkness grew more and more defined, and gradually resolved into their familiar shapes. The rain came down thick and fast, and pattered noisily among the leafless bushes. But Oliver felt it not, as it beat against him, for he still lay stretched, helpless and unconscious, on his bed of clay. At length a low cry of pain broke the stillness that prevailed, and uttering it, the boy awoke. His left arm, rudely bandaged in a shawl, hung heavy and useless at his side, and the bandage was saturated with blood. He was so weak that he could scarcely raise himself into a sitting posture, and when he had done so, he looked feebly round for help, and groaned with pain. Trembling in every joint from cold and exhaustion, he made an effort to stand upright, but shuddering from head to foot, fell prostrate on the ground. After a short return of the stupor in which he had been so long plunged, Oliver, urged by a creeping sickness at his heart, which seemed to warn him that if he lay there he must surely die, got upon his feet and essayed to walk. His head was dizzy, and he staggered to and fro like a drunken man; but he kept up nevertheless, and, with his head drooping languidly on his breast, went stumbling onward he knew not whither. And now, hosts of bewildering and confused ideas came crowding on his mind. He seemed to be still walking between Sikes and Crackit, who were angrily disputing, for the very words they said sounded in his ears: and when he caught his own attention, as it were, by making some violent effort to save him self from falling, he found that he was talking to them. Then he was alone with Sikes plodding on as they had done the previous day, and as shadowy people passed them by, he felt the robber's grasp upon his wrist. Suddenly he started back at the report of fire-arms, and there rose into the air loud cries and shouts; lights gleamed before his eyes, and all was noise and tumult as some unseen hand bore him hurriedly away. Through all these rapid visions there ran an undefined, uneasy, consciousness of pain which wearied and tormented him incessantly. Thus he staggered on, creeping almost mechanically between the bars of gates, or through hedge-gaps as they came in his way, until he reached a road; and here the rain began to fall so heavily that it roused him. He looked about, and saw that at no great distance there was a house, which perhaps he could reach. Seeing his condition they might have compassion on him, and if they did not, it would be better, he thought, to die near human beings than in the lonely open fields. He summoned up all his strength for one last trial, and bent his faltering steps towards it. As he drew nearer to this house, a feeling came over him that he had seen it before. He remembered nothing of its details, but the shape and aspect of the building seemed familiar to him. That garden wall! On the grass inside he had fallen on his knees last night, and prayed the two men's mercy. It was the very same house they had attempted to rob. Oliver felt such fear come over him when he recognised the place, that for the instant he forgot the agony of his wound, and thought only of fight. Flight! He could scarcely stand; and if he were in full possession of all the best powers of his slight and youthful frame, where could he fly to? He pushed against the garden gate; it was unlocked and swung open on its hinges. He tottered across the lawn, climbed the steps, knocked faintly at the door, and his whole strength failing him, sunk down against one of the pillars of the little portico. It happened that about this time Mr. Giles, Brittles, and the tinker were recruiting themselves after the fatigues and terrors of the night, with tea and sundries in the kitchen. Not that it was Mr. Giles's habit to admit to too great familiarity the humbler servants, towards whom it was rather his wont to deport himself with a lofty affability, which, while it gratified, could not fail to remind them of his superior position in society. But death, fires, and burglary make all men equals; and Mr. Giles sat with his legs stretched out before the kitchen fender, leaning his left arm on the table, while with his right he illustrated a circumstantial and minute account of the robbery, to which his hearers (but especially the cook and housemaid, who were of the party) listened with breathless interest. "It was about half-past two," said Mr. Giles, "or I would n't swear that it might n't have been a little nearer three, when I woke up, and turning round in my bed, as it might be so, (here Mr. Giles turned round in his chair, and pulled the corner of the table-cloth over him to imitate bed-clothes,) I fancied I heerd a noise." At this point of the narrative the cook turned pale, and asked the housemaid to shut the door, who asked Brittles, who asked the tinker, who pretended not to hear. "I heerd a noise," continued Mr. Giles. "I says at first, this is illusion;' and was composing myself off to sleep, when I heerd the noise again, distinct." "What sort of a noise?" asked the cook. "A kind of busting noise," replied Mr. Giles, looking round him. "More like the noise of powdering a iron bar on a nutmeg-grater," suggested Brittles. "It was, when you heerd it, sir,” rejoined Mr. Giles; "but at this time it had a busting sound. I turned down the clothes," continued Giles, rolling back the table-cloth, "sat up in bed, and listened." The cook and housemaid simultaneously ejaculated "Lor!" and drew their chairs closer together. 6 "I heerd it now, quite apparent," resumed Mr. Giles. Somebody,' I says, is forcing of a door or window, what's to be done! I'll call up that poor lad, Brittles, and save him from being murdered in his bed; or his throat,' I says, may be cut from his right ear to his left, without his ever knowing it.'" Here all eyes were turned upon Brittles, who fixed his upon the speaker, and stared at him with his mouth wide open, and his face expressive of the most unmitigated horror. 66 "I tossed off the clothes," said Giles, throwing away the table-cloth, and look |