“You that keep this house,” said Sikes, turning his face to Crackit, “do you mean to sell me, or to let me lie here till this hunt is over?” “You may stop here, if you think it safe,” returned the person addressed, after some hesitation. Sikes carried his eyes slowly up the wall behind him, rather trying to turn his head than actually doing it, and said, “Is—it—the body—is it buried?” They shook their heads. “Why isn’t it!” said the man with the same glance behind him. “Wot do they keep such ugly things as _that_, above the ground for?—Who’s that knocking?” Crackit intimated by a motion of his hand as he left the room that there was nothing to fear, and directly came back with Charley Bates behind him. Sikes sat opposite the door, so that the moment the boy entered the room he encountered his figure. “Toby,” said the boy falling back as Sikes turned his eyes towards him. “Why didn’t you tell me this, down stairs?” There had been something so tremendous in the shrinking off of the three, that the wretched man was willing to propitiate even this lad. Accordingly he nodded and made as though he would shake hands with him. “Let me go into some other room,” said the boy retreating still further. “Why, Charley?” said Sikes stepping forward. “Don’t you—don’t you know me?” “Don’t come nearer me,” answered the boy, still retreating and looking with horror in his eyes upon the murderer’s face. “You monster.” The man stopped half-way, and they looked at each other; but Sikes’s eyes sunk gradually to the ground. “Witness you three,” cried the boy, shaking his clenched fist, and becoming more and more excited as he spoke. “Witness you three—I’m not afraid of him—if they come here after him, I’ll give him up; I will. I tell you out at once; he may kill me for it if he likes or if he dares, but if I’m here I’ll give him up. I’d give him up if he was to be boiled alive. Murder! Help! If there’s the pluck of a man among you three, you’ll help me. Murder. Help. Down with him.” Pouring out these cries, and accompanying them with violent gesticulation, the boy actually threw himself single-handed upon the strong man, and in the intensity of his energy and the suddenness of his surprise brought him heavily to the ground. The three spectators seemed quite transfixed and stupified. They offered no interference, and the boy and man rolled on the ground together, the former heedless of the blows that showered upon him, wrenching his hands tighter and tighter in the garments about the murderer’s breast, and never ceasing to call for help with all his might.