Oldal 116 [116]
OCR
78 CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH. In which a notable plan is discussed and determined on. Ir was a chill, damp, windy night, when the Jew, buttoning his great-coat tight round his shrivelled body, and pulling the collar up over his ears 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 rb ee 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. He kept on his course through many winding and narrow ways until he reached Bethnal Green; then turning suddenly off to the left, he soon became involved in amaze of the mean dirty streets which abound in that close and densely-populated quarter. he 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 the door, walked up stairs. A dog growled as he touched the handle of a 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,” said Sikes. * Lie down, you stupid brute! Don’t you know the devil when he’s got a greatcoat 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. 6 Well!" said Sikes. “Well, my dear,” replied the Jew. “Ah! Nancy.” The latter recognition was uttered with just enough of embarrassment 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, however, 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 any more about it, for it was a cold night, and no mistake. Miss Nancy prefixed to the word "cold" another adjective, derived from the name of an unpleasant instrument of death, which, as the word is seldom mentioned to ears polite in any other form than as a substantive, I have omitted in this chronicle. “Tt 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 left side. “Tt must be a piercer if it finds its way throughly 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; and Sikes, pouring out a glass of brandy, bade the Jew drink it off. 6 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 gettin the better of you, are you?” inquire Sikes, fixing his eyes on the Jew; “ugh!” With a hoarse grunt of contempt Mr. Sikes seized the glass and emptied it, as a preparatory ites! to filling it again for himself, which he did at once. The Jew glanced round the room as his companion tossed down the second glassful; not in curiosity, for he had seen it often before, but in a restless and sus
