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
Fagin, troubled by no grave emotions, looked eagerly from face
to face while these proceedings were in progress; but apparently
without meeting that of which he was in search. Succeeding, at
length, in catching the eye of the man who occupied the chair, he
beckoned to him slightly, and left the room, as quietly as he had
entered it.
‘What can I do for you, Mr. Fagin?’ inquired the man, as he followed
him out to the landing. ‘Won’t you join us? They’ll be delighted,
every one of ‘em.’
The Jew shook his head impatiently, and said in a whisper, ‘Is _he_
here?’
‘No,’ replied the man.
‘And no news of Barney?’ inquired Fagin.
‘None,’ replied the landlord of the Cripples; for it was he. ‘He
won’t stir till it’s all safe. Depend on it, they’re on the scent
down there; and that if he moved, he’d blow upon the thing at once.
He’s all right enough, Barney is, else I should have heard of him.
I’ll pound it, that Barney’s managing properly. Let him alone for
that.’
‘Will _he_ be here to-night?’ asked the Jew, laying the same
emphasis on the pronoun as before.
‘Monks, do you mean?’ inquired the landlord, hesitating.
‘Hush!’ said the Jew. ‘Yes.’
‘Certain,’ replied the man, drawing a gold watch from his fob; ‘I
expected him here before now. If you’ll wait ten minutes, he’ll
be--’
‘No, no,’ said the Jew, hastily; as though, however desirous he
might be to see the person in question, he was nevertheless relieved
by his absence. ‘Tell him I came here to see him; and that he must
come to me to-night. No, say to-morrow. As he is not here, to-morrow
will be time enough.’
‘Good!’ said the man. ‘Nothing more?’
‘Not a word now,’ said the Jew, descending the stairs.
‘I say,’ said the other, looking over the rails, and speaking in a
hoarse whisper; ‘what a time this would be for a sell! I’ve got Phil
Barker here: so drunk, that a boy might take him!’
‘Ah! But it’s not Phil Barker’s time,’ said the Jew, looking up.
‘Phil has something more to do, before we can afford to part with
him; so go back to the company, my dear, and tell them to lead merry
lives--_while they last_. Ha! ha! ha!’
The landlord reciprocated the old man’s laugh; and returned to his
guests. The Jew was no sooner alone, than his countenance resumed
its former expression of anxiety and thought. After a brief
reflection, he called a hack-cabriolet, and bade the man drive
towards Bethnal Green. He dismissed him within some quarter of a
mile of Mr. Sikes’s residence, and performed the short remainder of
the distance, on foot.
‘Now,’ muttered the Jew, as he knocked at the door, ‘if there is any
deep play here, I shall have it out of you, my girl, cunning as you
are.’
She was in her room, the woman said. Fagin crept softly upstairs,
and entered it without any previous ceremony. The girl was alone;
lying with her head upon the table, and her hair straggling over it.
‘She has been drinking,’ thought the Jew, cooly, ‘or perhaps she is
only miserable.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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