Oliver Twist; or, The Parish Boy's Progress. IllustratedDickens, Charles
General
Oliver Twist; or, The Parish Boy's Progress. Illustrated
Dickens, Charles
Bildungsromans; Boys -- Fiction; Criminals -- Fiction; Kidnapping victims -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
A long silence ensued; during which the Jew was plunged in deep
thought, with his face wrinkled into an expression of villainy
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 me 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?’ 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. ‘Oh! then it’s a panel, eh?’
‘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 chimbley-sweeper’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 earning 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, ‘so they go on; and, if they’d got money enough (which it’s
a Providence they haven’t,) 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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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