boy in his toils; and, having prepared a dreary place, was now slowly instil. his mind, by solitude and gloom, to ling into his soul the poison which he prefer any society to the companion- hoped would blacken it, and change ship of his own sad thoughts in such its hue for ever. CHAPTER XIX IN WHICH A NOTABLE PLAN IS DISCUSSED AND DETERMINED ON. Ir was a chill, damp, windy night, soon became involved in a maze of when the Jew: buttoning his great- the mean and dirty streets which coat tight round his shrivelled body, abound in that close and denselyand pulling the collar up over his ears populated quarter. so as completely to obscure the lower part of his face emerged from his den. He paused on the step as the door was locked and chained behind him; and having listened while the boys made all secure, and until their retreating footsteps were no longer audible, slunk down the street as quickly as he could. The house to which Oliver had been conveyed, was in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel. The Jew stopped for an instant at the corner of the street; and, glancing suspiciously round, crossed the road, and struck off in the direction of Spitalfields. The mud lay thick upon the stones: and a black mist hung over the streets; the rain fell sluggishly down: and everything felt cold and clammy to the touch. It seemed just the night when it befitted such a being as the Jew, to be abroad. As he glided stealthily along, creeping beneath the shelter of the walls and doorways, the hideous old man seemed like some loathsome reptile, engendered in the slime and darkness through which he moved crawling forth, by night, in search of some rich offal for a meal. The Jew was evidently too familiar with the ground he traversed, however, to be at all bewildered, either by the darkness of the night, or the intricacies of the way. He hurried through several alleys and streets; and at length turned into one, lighted only by a single lamp at the farther end. At the door of a house in this street, he knocked; and having exchanged a few muttered words with the person who opened it, walked up stairs. A dog growled as he touched the handle of a room-door; and a man's voice demanded who was there. "Only me, Bill; only me, my dear," said the Jew, looking in. "Bring in your body then," said Sikes. "Lie down, you stupid brute! Don't you know the devil when he's got a great-coat on?" Apparently, the dog had been somewhat deceived by Mr. Fagin's outer garment; for as the Jew unbuttoned it, and threw it over the back of a chair, he retired to the corner from which he had risen: wagging his tail as he went, to show that he was as well satisfied as it was in his nature to be. "Well!" said Sikes. He kept on his course, through many winding and narrow ways, until he reached Bethnal Green; then," turning suddenly off to the left, he "Well, my dear," replied the Jew. Ah! Nancy." The latter recognition was uttered with just enough of embarrassment restless and suspicious manner which was habitual to him. It was a meanly furnished apartment, with nothing but the contents of the closet to induce the belief that its occupier was anything but a working man; and with no more suspicious articles displayed to view than two or three heavy bludgeons which stood in a corner, and a "life-preserver" that hung over the chimney-piece. to imply a doubt of its reception; for Mr. Fagin and his young friend had not met, since she had interfered in behalf of Oliver. All doubts upon the subject, if he had any, were speedily removed by the young lady's behaviour. She took her feet off the fender; pushed back her chair; and bade Fagin draw up his, without saying more about it: for it was a cold night, and no mistake. "It is cold, Nancy dear," said the Jew, as he warmed his skinny hands over the fire. "It seems to go right through one," added the old man, touching his side. "It must be a piercer, if it finds its way through your heart," said Mr. Sikes. "Give him something to drink, Nancy. Burn my body, make haste! It's enough to turn a man ill, to see his lean old carcase shivering in that way, like a ugly ghost just rose from the grave." Nancy quickly brought a bottle from a cupboard, in which there were many which, to judge from the diversity of their appearance, were filled with several kinds of liquids. Sikes, pouring out a glass of brandy, bade the Jew drink it off. "Quite enough, quite, thankye, Bill," replied the Jew, putting down the glass, after just setting his lips to it. "What! you're afraid of our getting the better of you, are you?" inquired Sikes, fixing his eyes on the Jew. "Ugh!" With a hoarse grunt of contempt, Mr. Sikes seized the glass, and threw the remainder of its contents into the ashes as a preparatory ceremony to filling it again for himself: which he did at once. "There," said Sikes, smacking his lips, "Now I'm ready." "For business?" inquired the Jew. "For business," replied Sikes; 66 SO say what you've got to say.” "About the crib at Chertsey, Bill?" said the Jew, drawing his chair forward, and speaking in a very low voice. "Yes. Wot about it," inquired Sikes. "Ah! you know what I mean, my dear," said the Jew. "He knows what I mean, Nancy; don't he?" "No, he don't," sneered Mr. Sikes. "Or he won't; and that's the same thing. Speak out, and call things by their right names; don't sit there, winking and blinking, and talking to me in hints: as if you warn't the very first that thought about the robbery. Wot d'ye mean?" "Hush, Bill, hush!" said the Jew who had in vain attempted to stop this burst of indignation; "somebody will hear us, my dear. Somebody will hear us." "Let 'em hear!" said Sikes; "I don't care." But as Mr. Sikes did care, upon reflection, he dropped his voice as he said the words, and grew calmer. "There, there," said the Jew coaxingly. "It was only my cautionnothing more. Now, my dear, about The Jew glanced round the room, that crib at Chertsey; when is it to as his companion tossed down the be done, Bill, eh? When is it to be second glassful; not in curiosity for done? Such plate, my dear, such he had seen it often before; but in a plate!" said the Jew: rubbing his hands, and elevating his eyebrows in with a deep sigh, that if flash Toby Crackit reported aright, he feared the game was up. a rapture of anticipation. "Not at all," replied Sikes coldly. "Not to be done at all!" echoed the Jew, leaning back in his chair. "No, not at all," rejoined Sikes. "At least it can't be a put-up job, as we expected." "Then it hasn't been properly gone about," said the Jew, turning pale with anger. "Don't tell me." "But I will tell you," retorted Sikes. "Who are you that's not to be told? I tell you that Toby Crackit has been hanging about the place for a fortnight; and he can't get one of the servants into a line." : "Do you mean to tell me, Bill," said the Jew softening as the other grew heated: that neither of the two men in the house can be got over?" 66 Yes, I do mean to tell you so," replied Sikes. "The old lady has had 'em these twenty year; and, if you were to give 'em five hundred pound, they wouldn't be in it." "But do you mean to say, my dear," remonstrated the Jew, "that the women can't be got over?" "Not a bit of it," replied Sikes. "Not by flash Toby Crackit?" said the Jew incredulously. "Think what women are, Bill." "No; not even by flash Toby Crackit," replied Sikes. "He says he's worn sham whiskers, and a canary waistcoat, the whole blessed time he's been loitering down there; and it s all of no use." "He should have tried mustachios and a pair of military trousers, my dear," said the Jew. "So he did," rejoined Sikes, "and they warn't of no more use than the other plant." The Jew looked very blank at this information. After ruminating for some minutes with his chin sunk on his breast, he raised his head, and said, "And yet," said the old man, dropping his hands on his knees, "it's a sad thing, my dear, to lose so much when we had set our hearts upon it." "So it is," said Mr. Sikes. "Worse luck!" A long silence ensued; during which, the Jew was plunged in deep thought: with his face wrinkled into an expression of villany perfectly demoniacal. Sikes eyed him furtively from time to time; Nancy, apparently fearful of irritating the housebreaker, sat with her eyes fixed upon the fire, as if she had been deaf to all that passed. "Fagin," said Sikes, abruptly breaking the stillness that prevailed, “is it worth fifty shiners extra, if it's safely done from the outside?" "Yes," said the Jew, as suddenly rousing himself. "Is it a bargain?" inquired Sikes. "Yes, my dear, yes," rejoined the Jew; his eyes glistening, and every muscle in his face working, with the excitement that the inquiry had awakened. "Then," said Sikes, thrusting aside the Jew's hand, with some disdain, "let it come off as soon as you like. Toby and I were over the garden-wall the night afore last, sounding the panels of the door and shutters. The crib's barred up at night like a jail; but there's one part we can crack, safe and softly." "Which is that, Bill?" asked the Jew eagerly. "Why," whispered Sikes, " as you cross the lawn "Yes, yes," said the Jew, bending his head forward, with his eyes almost starting out of it. "Umph!" cried Sikes, stopping short, as the girl: scarcely moving her head: looked suddenly round, and pointed for an instant to the Jew's face. "Never mind which part it is. You can't do it without me, I know; but it's best to be on the safe side when one deals with you." "As you like my dear, as you like," replied the Jew. "Is there no help wanted, but yours and Toby's?" "None," said Sikes. "'Cept a centre-bit and a boy. The first we've both got; the second you must find us." "A boy!" exclaimed the Jew. enough to trust her, or the Devil's in "Oh! then it's a panel, eh?" it. She ain't one to blab. Are you, Nancy?" "Never mind wot it is!" replied Sikes. "I want a boy; and he musn't be a big un. Lord!" said Mr. Sikes, reflectively, "if I'd only got that young boy of Ned, the chimbleysweeper's! He kept him small on purpose, and let him out by the job. But the father gets lagged; and then the Juvenile Delinquent Society comes, and takes the boy away from a trade where he was arning money: teaches him to read and write and in time makes a 'prentice of him. And so they go on," said Mr. Sikes, his wrath rising with the recollection of his wrongs, 66 so they go on; and, if they'd got money enough (which it's a Providence they have not,) we shouldn't have half-a-dozen boys left in the whole trade, in a year or two." "No more we should," acquiesced the Jew, who had been considering during this speech, and had only caught the last sentence. "Bill!" "What now?" inquired Sikes. The Jew nodded his head towards Nancy, who was still gazing at the fire; and intimated, by a sign, that he would have her told to leave the room. Sikes shrugged his shoulders impatiently, as if he thought the precaution unnecessary; but complied, nevertheless, by requesting Miss Nancy to fetch him a jug of beer. "You don't want any beer," said "I should think not!" replied the young lady: drawing her chair up to the table, and putting her elbows upon it. and "No, no, my dear, I know you're not," said the Jew; "but again the old man paused. "But wot?" inquired Sikes. "I didn't know whether she mightn't p'r'aps be out of sorts, you know, my dear, as she was the other night," replied the Jew. At this confession, Miss Nancy burst into a loud laugh; and, swallowing a glass of brandy, shook her head with an air of defiance, and burst into sundry exclamations of "Keep the game a-going!" "Never say die!" and the like. These seemed at once to have the effect of re-assuring both gentlemen; for the Jew nodded his head with a satisfied air, and resumed his seat: as did Mr. Sikes likewise. "Now, Fagin," said Nancy with a laugh. "Tell Bill at once, about Oliver!" "Ha! you're a clever one, my dear; the sharpest girl I ever saw!" said the Jew, patting her on the neck. "It was about Oliver I was going to speak, sure enough. Ha! ha! ha!" "What about him?" demanded Sikes. "He's the boy for you, my dear," replied the Jew in a hoarse whisper; "And will do everything you want, Bill, my dear," interposed the Jew; "he can't help himself. That is, if you frighten him enough." makes you take so much pains about one chalk-faced kid, when you know there are fifty boys snoozing about Common Garden every night, as you might pick and choose from?" "Because they 're of no use to me, my dear," replied the Jew with some confusion, "not worth the taking. Their looks convict 'em when they get into trouble; and I lose 'em all. With this boy, properly managed, my dears, I could do what I couldn't with twenty of them. Besides," said the Jew, recovering his self-possession, "he has us now if he could only give us leg. "Well, he is just the size I want," bail again; and he must be in the said Mr. Sikes, ruminating. same boat with us. Never mind how he came there; it's quite enough for my power over him that he was in a robbery; that's all I want. Now, how much better this is, than being obliged to put the poor leetle boy out of the way: which would be dangerous and we should lose by it besides." 66 Frighten him!" echoed Sikes. "It'll be no sham frightening, mind you. If there's anything queer about him when we once get into the work; in for a penny, in for a pound. You won't see him alive again, Fagin. Think of that, before you send him. Mark my words!" said the robber, poising a crowbar: which he had drawn from under the bedstead. 'I've thought of it all," said the Jew with energy. "I've-I've had my eye upon him, my dears, closeclose. Once let him feel that he is one of us; once fill his mind with the idea that he has been a thief; and he's ours! Ours for his life. Oho! It couldn't have come about better!" The old man crossed his arms upon his breast; and, drawing his head and shoulders into a heap, literally hugged himself for joy. "Ours!" said Sikes. "Yours, you mean." "When is it to be done?" asked Nancy stopping some turbulent exclamation on the part of Mr. Sikes, expressive of the disgust with which he received Fagin's affectation of humanity. "Ah, to be sure," said the Jew, "when is it to be done, Bill?" "I planned with Toby, the night arter to-morrow," rejoined Sikes in a surly voice, " if he heerd nothing from me to the contrairy." "Good," said the Jew; moon." "No," rejoined Sikes. "there's no "It's all arranged about bringing off the swag,* is it?" asked the Jew. Sikes nodded. "And about" "Oh, ah, it's all planned, rejoined Sikes, interrupting him. "Never mind particulars. You'd better bring the boy here, to-morrow night; I shall * Booty. |