‘You don’t want any beer,’ said Nancy, folding her arms, and retaining her seat very composedly. ‘I tell you I do!’ replied Sikes. ‘Nonsense,’ rejoined the girl coolly, ‘Go on, Fagin. I know what he’s going to say, Bill; he needn’t mind me.’ The Jew still hesitated. Sikes looked from one to the other in some surprise. ‘Why, you don’t mind the old girl, do you, Fagin?’ he asked at length. ‘You’ve known her long enough to trust her, or the Devil’s in it. She ain’t one to blab. Are you Nancy?’ ‘_I_ should think not!’ replied the young lady: drawing her chair up to the table, and putting her elbows upon it. ‘No, no, my dear, I know you’re not,’ said the Jew; ‘but--’ and again the old man paused. ‘But wot?’ inquired Sikes. ‘I didn’t know whether she mightn’t p’r’aps be out of sorts, you know, my dear, as she was the other night,’ replied the Jew. At this confession, Miss Nancy burst into a loud laugh; and, swallowing a glass of brandy, shook her head with an air of defiance, and burst into sundry exclamations of ‘Keep the game a-going!’ ‘Never say die!’ and the like. These seemed to have the effect of re-assuring both gentlemen; for the Jew nodded his head with a satisfied air, and resumed his seat: as did Mr. Sikes likewise. ‘Now, Fagin,’ said Nancy with a laugh. ‘Tell Bill at once, about Oliver!’ ‘Ha! you’re a clever one, my dear: the sharpest girl I ever saw!’ said the Jew, patting her on the neck. ‘It _was_ about Oliver I was going to speak, sure enough. Ha! ha! ha!’ ‘What about him?’ demanded Sikes. ‘He’s the boy for you, my dear,’ replied the Jew in a hoarse whisper; laying his finger on the side of his nose, and grinning frightfully. ‘He!’ exclaimed. Sikes. ‘Have him, Bill!’ said Nancy. ‘I would, if I was in your place. He mayn’t be so much up, as any of the others; but that’s not what you want, if he’s only to open a door for you. Depend upon it he’s a safe one, Bill.’ ‘I know he is,’ rejoined Fagin. ‘He’s been in good training these last few weeks, and it’s time he began to work for his bread. Besides, the others are all too big.’ ‘Well, he is just the size I want,’ said Mr. Sikes, ruminating. ‘And will do everything you want, Bill, my dear,’ interposed the Jew; ‘he can’t help himself. That is, if you frighten him enough.’ ‘Frighten him!’ echoed Sikes. ‘It’ll be no sham frightening, mind you. If there’s anything queer about him when we once get into the work; in for a penny, in for a pound. You won’t see him alive again, Fagin. Think of that, before you send him. Mark my words!’ said the robber, poising a crowbar, which he had drawn from under the bedstead.