Bildungsromans; Boys -- Fiction; Criminals -- Fiction; Kidnapping victims -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
He acted upon this impulse without delay, and choosing the least
frequented roads began his journey back, resolved to lie concealed
within a short distance of the metropolis, and, entering it at dusk by
a circuitous route, to proceed straight to that part of it which he had
fixed on for his destination.
The dog, though. If any description of him were out, it would not be
forgotten that the dog was missing, and had probably gone with him.
This might lead to his apprehension as he passed along the streets. He
resolved to drown him, and walked on, looking about for a pond: picking
up a heavy stone and tying it to his handkerchief as he went.
The animal looked up into his master’s face while these preparations
were making; whether his instinct apprehended something of their
purpose, or the robber’s sidelong look at him was sterner than
ordinary, he skulked a little farther in the rear than usual, and
cowered as he came more slowly along. When his master halted at the
brink of a pool, and looked round to call him, he stopped outright.
“Do you hear me call? Come here!” cried Sikes.
The animal came up from the very force of habit; but as Sikes stooped
to attach the handkerchief to his throat, he uttered a low growl and
started back.
“Come back!” said the robber.
The dog wagged his tail, but moved not. Sikes made a running noose and
called him again.
The dog advanced, retreated, paused an instant, and scoured away at his
hardest speed.
The man whistled again and again, and sat down and waited in the
expectation that he would return. But no dog appeared, and at length he
resumed his journey.
CHAPTER XLIX.
MONKS AND MR. BROWNLOW AT LENGTH MEET. THEIR CONVERSATION, AND THE
INTELLIGENCE THAT INTERRUPTS IT
The twilight was beginning to close in, when Mr. Brownlow alighted from
a hackney-coach at his own door, and knocked softly. The door being
opened, a sturdy man got out of the coach and stationed himself on one
side of the steps, while another man, who had been seated on the box,
dismounted too, and stood upon the other side. At a sign from Mr.
Brownlow, they helped out a third man, and taking him between them,
hurried him into the house. This man was Monks.
They walked in the same manner up the stairs without speaking, and Mr.
Brownlow, preceding them, led the way into a back-room. At the door of
this apartment, Monks, who had ascended with evident reluctance,
stopped. The two men looked at the old gentleman as if for
instructions.
“He knows the alternative,” said Mr. Browlow. “If he hesitates or moves
a finger but as you bid him, drag him into the street, call for the aid
of the police, and impeach him as a felon in my name.”
“How dare you say this of me?” asked Monks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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