Bildungsromans; Boys -- Fiction; Criminals -- Fiction; Kidnapping victims -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
“There’s no occasion to trouble ourselves to move,” said Noah, getting
his legs by gradual degrees abroad again. “She’ll take the luggage
upstairs the while. Charlotte, see to them bundles.”
This mandate, which had been delivered with great majesty, was obeyed
without the slightest demur; and Charlotte made the best of her way off
with the packages while Noah held the door open and watched her out.
“She’s kept tolerably well under, ain’t she?” he asked as he resumed
his seat: in the tone of a keeper who had tamed some wild animal.
“Quite perfect,” rejoined Fagin, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re
a genius, my dear.”
“Why, I suppose if I wasn’t, I shouldn’t be here,” replied Noah. “But,
I say, she’ll be back if yer lose time.”
“Now, what do you think?” said Fagin. “If you was to like my friend,
could you do better than join him?”
“Is he in a good way of business; that’s where it is!” responded Noah,
winking one of his little eyes.
“The top of the tree; employs a power of hands; has the very best
society in the profession.”
“Regular town-maders?” asked Mr. Claypole.
“Not a countryman among ’em; and I don’t think he’d take you, even on
my recommendation, if he didn’t run rather short of assistants just
now,” replied Fagin.
“Should I have to hand over?” said Noah, slapping his breeches-pocket.
“It couldn’t possibly be done without,” replied Fagin, in a most
decided manner.
“Twenty pound, though—it’s a lot of money!”
“Not when it’s in a note you can’t get rid of,” retorted Fagin. “Number
and date taken, I suppose? Payment stopped at the Bank? Ah! It’s not
worth much to him. It’ll have to go abroad, and he couldn’t sell it for
a great deal in the market.”
“When could I see him?” asked Noah doubtfully.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
“Um!” said Noah. “What’s the wages?”
“Live like a gentleman—board and lodging, pipes and spirits free—half
of all you earn, and half of all the young woman earns,” replied Mr.
Fagin.
Whether Noah Claypole, whose rapacity was none of the least
comprehensive, would have acceded even to these glowing terms, had he
been a perfectly free agent, is very doubtful; but as he recollected
that, in the event of his refusal, it was in the power of his new
acquaintance to give him up to justice immediately (and more unlikely
things had come to pass), he gradually relented, and said he thought
that would suit him.
“But, yer see,” observed Noah, “as she will be able to do a good deal,
I should like to take something very light.”
“A little fancy work?” suggested Fagin.
“Ah! something of that sort,” replied Noah. “What do you think would
suit me now? Something not too trying for the strength, and not very
dangerous, you know. That’s the sort of thing!”
“I heard you talk of something in the spy way upon the others, my
dear,” said Fagin. “My friend wants somebody who would do that well,
very much.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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