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
When she reached the more wealthy quarter of the town, the streets
were comparatively deserted; and here her headlong progress excited
a still greater curiosity in the stragglers whom she hurried past.
Some quickened their pace behind, as though to see whither she was
hastening at such an unusual rate; and a few made head upon her, and
looked back, surprised at her undiminished speed; but they fell off
one by one; and when she neared her place of destination, she was
alone.
It was a family hotel in a quiet but handsome street near Hyde Park.
As the brilliant light of the lamp which burnt before its door,
guided her to the spot, the clock struck eleven. She had loitered
for a few paces as though irresolute, and making up her mind to
advance; but the sound determined her, and she stepped into the
hall. The porter’s seat was vacant. She looked round with an air of
incertitude, and advanced towards the stairs.
‘Now, young woman!’ said a smartly-dressed female, looking out from
a door behind her, ‘who do you want here?’
‘A lady who is stopping in this house,’ answered the girl.
‘A lady!’ was the reply, accompanied with a scornful look. ‘What
lady?’
‘Miss Maylie,’ said Nancy.
The young woman, who had by this time, noted her appearance, replied
only by a look of virtuous disdain; and summoned a man to answer
her. To him, Nancy repeated her request.
‘What name am I to say?’ asked the waiter.
‘It’s of no use saying any,’ replied Nancy.
‘Nor business?’ said the man.
‘No, nor that neither,’ rejoined the girl. ‘I must see the lady.’
‘Come!’ said the man, pushing her towards the door. ‘None of this.
Take yourself off.’
‘I shall be carried out if I go!’ said the girl violently; ‘and I
can make that a job that two of you won’t like to do. Isn’t there
anybody here,’ she said, looking round, ‘that will see a simple
message carried for a poor wretch like me?’
This appeal produced an effect on a good-tempered-faced man-cook,
who with some of the other servants was looking on, and who stepped
forward to interfere.
‘Take it up for her, Joe; can’t you?’ said this person.
‘What’s the good?’ replied the man. ‘You don’t suppose the young
lady will see such as her; do you?’
This allusion to Nancy’s doubtful character, raised a vast quantity
of chaste wrath in the bosoms of four housemaids, who remarked,
with great fervour, that the creature was a disgrace to her sex; and
strongly advocated her being thrown, ruthlessly, into the kennel.
‘Do what you like with me,’ said the girl, turning to the men again;
‘but do what I ask you first, and I ask you to give this message for
God Almighty’s sake.’
The soft-hearted cook added his intercession, and the result was
that the man who had first appeared undertook its delivery.
‘What’s it to be?’ said the man, with one foot on the stairs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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