Cruikshank, George, 1792-1878; Illustration of books -- Great Britain -- 19th century; Watercolor painting, British
Fagin walked towards his home, intent upon the thoughts that were
working within his brain. He had conceived the idea--not from what
had just passed though that had tended to confirm him, but slowly
and by degrees--that Nancy, wearied of the housebreaker’s brutality,
had conceived an attachment for some new friend. Her altered manner,
her repeated absences from home alone, her comparative indifference
to the interests of the gang for which she had once been so zealous,
and, added to these, her desperate impatience to leave home that
night at a particular hour, all favoured the supposition, and
rendered it, to him at least, almost matter of certainty. The
object of this new liking was not among his myrmidons. He would be a
valuable acquisition with such an assistant as Nancy, and must (thus
Fagin argued) be secured without delay.
There was another, and a darker object, to be gained. Sikes knew too
much, and his ruffian taunts had not galled Fagin the less, because
the wounds were hidden. The girl must know, well, that if she shook
him off, she could never be safe from his fury, and that it would
be surely wreaked--to the maiming of limbs, or perhaps the loss of
life--on the object of her more recent fancy.
‘With a little persuasion,’ thought Fagin, ‘what more likely than
that she would consent to poison him? Women have done such things,
and worse, to secure the same object before now. There would be
the dangerous villain: the man I hate: gone; another secured in
his place; and my influence over the girl, with a knowledge of this
crime to back it, unlimited.’
These things passed through the mind of Fagin, during the short time
he sat alone, in the housebreaker’s room; and with them uppermost in
his thoughts, he had taken the opportunity afterwards afforded him,
of sounding the girl in the broken hints he threw out at parting.
There was no expression of surprise, no assumption of an inability
to understand his meaning. The girl clearly comprehended it. Her
glance at parting showed _that_.
But perhaps she would recoil from a plot to take the life of Sikes,
and that was one of the chief ends to be attained. ‘How,’ thought
Fagin, as he crept homeward, ‘can I increase my influence with her?
What new power can I acquire?’
Such brains are fertile in expedients. If, without extracting a
confession from herself, he laid a watch, discovered the object of
her altered regard, and threatened to reveal the whole history to
Sikes (of whom she stood in no common fear) unless she entered into
his designs, could he not secure her compliance?
‘I can,’ said Fagin, almost aloud. ‘She durst not refuse me then.
Not for her life, not for her life! I have it all. The means are
ready, and shall be set to work. I shall have you yet!’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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