“Yes, yes!” interposed the Jew, drawing up his chair. Mr. Crackit stopped to take a draught of spirits and water, and to declare that the gin was excellent; and then, placing his feet against the low mantelpiece, so as to bring his boots to about the level of his eye, quietly resumed. “First and foremost, Fagey,” said the housebreaker, “how’s Bill?” “What!” screamed the Jew, starting from his seat. “Why, you don’t mean to say——” began Toby, turning pale. “Mean!” cried the Jew, stamping furiously on the ground. “Where are they?—Sikes and the boy—where are they?—where have they been?—where are they hiding?—why have they not been here?” “The crack failed,” said Toby, faintly. “I know it,” replied the Jew, tearing a newspaper from his pocket, and pointing to it. “What more?” “They fired and hit the boy. We cut over the fields at the back with him between us—straight as the crow flies—through hedge and ditch. They gave chase. D—me! the whole country was awake, and the dogs upon us.” “The boy!” gasped the Jew. “Bill had him on his back, and scudded like the wind. We stopped to take him again between us; his head hung down, and he was cold. They were close upon our heels: every man for himself, and each from the gallows. We parted company, and left the youngster lying in a ditch. Alive or dead, that’s all I know of him.” The Jew stopped to hear no more; but uttering a loud yell, and twining his hands in his hair, rushed from the room and from the house. CHAPTER XXVI. IN WHICH A MYSTERIOUS CHARACTER APPEARS UPON THE SCENE, AND MANY THINGS INSEPARABLE FROM THIS HISTORY ARE DONE AND PERFORMED. THE old man had gained the street corner before he began to recover the effect of Toby Crackit’s intelligence. He had relaxed nothing of his unusual speed, but was still pressing onward in the same wild and disordered manner, when the sudden dashing past of a carriage, and a boisterous cry from the foot-passengers, who saw his danger, drove him back upon the pavement. Avoiding as much as possible all the main streets, and skulking only through the byways and alleys, he at length emerged on Snow Hill. Here he walked even faster than before; nor did he linger until he had again turned into a court, when, as if conscious that he was now in his proper element, he fell into his usual shuffling pace, and seemed to breathe more freely.