CHAPTER XI

In Fagin's Hands Once More

"Where's Oliver?" said the Jew, rising with a threatening look on seeing the Dodger and Charlie Bates without him. "Where's the boy?"

The young thieves looked uneasily at each other, but they made no reply.

"What's become of the boy?" said the Jew, seizing the Dodger tightly by the coat-collar, and shaking him. "Speak out, or I'll strangle you!"

"Why, the police have got him, and that's all about it," said the Dodger angrily. "Come, let go of me, will you!" and pulling himself violently out of the big coat, which he left in the Jew's hand, the Dodger snatched up the toasting fork and would have thrust it into the Jew's breast had not the latter stepped back in time. Then, seizing up a pot of beer, Fagin prepared to throw it at the Dodger's head, but the Dodger avoiding the pot in time, the beer hit another member of the gang who had just arrived.

It was Bill Sikes, followed by his dog. Bill was a strongly built fellow of about thirty-five years of age with an angry-looking face and a beard of three days' growth.

"Who threw that beer at me? It is well it is the beer, and not the pot which hit me, or I'd have killed somebody. I might have known that nobody but a rich, plundering old Jew could afford to throw away any drink but water. What is it all about, Fagin? What are you up to? Ill-treating the boys, you greedy old thief? I wonder they don't murder you. I would, if I was in their place."

"Hush! hush! Mr. Sikes," said the Jew, trembling; "don't speak so loud."

"None of your mistering," replied the ruffian; "you always mean mischief when you call me mister. You know my name: out with it."

"Well, well, then—Bill Sikes," said the Jew humbly. "You seem out of humour, Bill."

"Perhaps I am," replied Sikes, and then he demanded a glass of spirits; "and mind you don't poison it," he added, putting his hat on the table.

The young robbers told Sikes how Oliver Twist had been captured and how the police had arrested him.

"I'm afraid," said the Jew, "that he may say something which may get us into trouble."

"That's very likely," returned Sikes.

"And I'm afraid, you see," added the Jew, "that if the game was up with us, it might be up with a good many more, and that it would come out rather worse for you than it would for me, my dear."

"Somebody must find out what has happened at the magistrate's office," said Sikes; "if he hasn't informed, and is found guilty, there's no fear till he comes out again, and then he must be taken care of. You must get hold of him somehow."

The Jew nodded assent.

The prudence of this line of action was obvious; but unfortunately neither the Jew, nor Sikes, nor the Dodger nor Bates had any desire to go near a police-station. Presently two young ladies entered whom Oliver had seen on a former occasion.

"The very thing!" said the Jew. "Bet will go; won't you, my dear?"

"Where?" inquired the young lady.

"Only just up to the magistrate's office, my dear," said the Jew.

Bet refused to go, and Fagin turned to Nancy.

"Nancy, my dear," he said, "what do you say?"

"That I shan't go either," said she.

"She'll go, Fagin," said Sikes.

And Mr. Sikes was right. By alternate threats, promises and bribes Nancy was at last prevailed upon to accept the mission.

She made her way to the police-office and when she came to the police-officer she burst into tears and began to cry aloud, apparently in great distress, saying:

"Oh, my brother! What has become of him? Where have they taken him to? Oh! Do have pity and tell me what's been done with the dear boy, if you please, sir!"

The officer informed the deeply affected sister that Oliver had been taken ill in the office and released because a witness had proved the robbery to have been committed by another boy. He told her that the gentleman who had accused Oliver had carried him away to his own house, somewhere at Pentonville.

In a dreadful state of uncertainty the young woman walked to the gate, and then she ran as fast as she could, by the most complicated route she could think of, to the Jew's house.

Mr. Bill Sikes no sooner heard her account than he called up his white dog and quickly departed.

Fagin instructed Nancy, Charlie and the Dodger to do nothing but loiter about until they brought home some news of him. He unlocked the drawer and gave them some money, telling them that he would shut up his house that night, and that they knew where to find him.

Then he pushed them from the room and, carefully locking and barring the door behind them, he drew from its hiding-place the box which Oliver had seen him examine. He hastily took out the watches and the jewellery and hiding them under his clothes, he left the house.

Oliver Twist was on his way to the bookshop. He was walking along, thinking how happy and contented he ought to feel, when he was startled by a young woman screaming out very loud, "Oh, my dear brother!" and he had hardly looked up, to see what the matter was, when he was stopped by having a pair of arms thrown tight around his neck.

"Don't!" said Oliver, struggling. "Let go of me. Who is it? What are you stopping me for?"

The only reply to this was a great number of loud screams from the young woman who had embraced him. They were answered by the arrival of a brutal-looking man, whom Nancy, for the young woman was she, addressed by the name of Bill Sikes. He was closely followed by a miserable dog.

Darkness had set in, it was a low neighbourhood; no help was near; resistance was useless. In another moment Oliver was dragged into a maze of dark, narrow streets, and was forced along them at such speed as made his cries useless.

Meanwhile, in Mr. Brownlow's house, the gas-lamps were lighted; Mrs. Bedwin was waiting anxiously at the open door; the servant had run up the streets twenty times to see if there were any traces of Oliver; and still the two old gentlemen sat, in the dark parlour, with the watch between them.

The narrow streets at length ended in a large open space. Having crossed that, Oliver's captors turned into a very dirty narrow street, nearly full of old-clothes shops. The dog ran forward and stopped before the door of a shop that was closed and apparently unoccupied; the house was in a poor state of repair and on the door was nailed a to let sign-board which looked as if it had hung there for many years.

"All right," cried Sikes, looking cautiously about.

Nancy bent below the shutters, and Oliver heard the sound of a bell. They crossed to the opposite side of the street, and stood for a few moments under a lamp. A little window was gently opened; soon afterwards the door softly opened. Mr. Sikes then seized the terrified boy by the collar, and all three were soon inside the house.

The passage was perfectly dark. They waited, while the person who had let them in chained and barred the door.

"Is Fagin here?" asked the robber.

"Yes," replied the voice; "won't he be glad to see you? Oh, no!"

The style of this reply, as well as the voice which uttered it, seemed familiar to Oliver's ears; in fact it was the Artful Dodger, who presently lit a candle and led them in. They crossed an empty kitchen, and, opening the door of a small back room, they were received with a shout of laughter.

"Oh, Fagin, look at him! Fagin, do look at him! I can't bear it; it is such a jolly game, I can't bear it. Hold me, somebody, while I laugh it out."

It was Master Bates who, unable to control his merriment, laid himself flat on the floor and laughed noisily for five minutes.

The Jew, taking off his nightcap, made a great number of low bows to the amazed boy. Meanwhile, the Artful was busy picking Oliver's pockets.

"Look at his suit, Fagin!" said Charlie Bates; "fine cloth and a swell cut. And his books, too! Nothing but a gentleman, Fagin!"

"Delighted to see you looking so well, my dear," said the Jew, bowing with mock humility. "The Artful shall give you another suit, my dear, for fear you should spoil that Sunday one. Why didn't you write, my dear, and say you were coming? We'd have got something warm for supper."

At this Master Bates roared again, so loud that Fagin himself relaxed, and even the Dodger smiled. At that instant the Dodger drew forth the five-pound note.

"Hallo! what's that?" inquired Sikes, stepping forward as the Jew seized the note. "That's mine, Fagin."

"No, no, my dear," said the Jew. "Mine, Bill, mine. You shall have the books."

"If that isn't mine," said Bill Sikes, putting on his hat with a determined air, "mine and Nancy's, that is, I'll take the boy back again."

The Jew started.

"Come! Hand it over, will you?" said Sikes.

"This is hardly fair, Bill; hardly fair, is it, Nancy?" inquired the Jew.

"Fair or not fair," replied Sikes, "hand over, I tell you. Do you think Nancy and me has got nothing else to do with our precious time but to spend it in capturing every young boy who gets caught through you? Give it here, you greedy old thief, give it here."

With these words Sikes snatched the note from between the Jew's finger and thumb, folded it up and tied it in his handkerchief. He told the Jew he might keep the books, if he was fond of reading; if not, he could sell them.

"They belong to the old gentleman," said Oliver; "to the kind old gentleman who took me into his house, and had me nursed when I was nearly dying of the fever. Oh, please send them back; send him back the books and money. He'll think I stole them; the old lady, too; she will think I stole them. Oh, do have mercy upon me, and send them back."

With these words Oliver fell upon his knees at the Jew's feet.

"The boy is right," remarked Fagin. "You're right, Oliver, you're right; they will think you have stolen them. Ha! ha! It couldn't have happened better, if we had chosen our time!"

"Of course it couldn't," replied Sikes; "I knew that as soon as I saw him coming with the books under his arm. It's all right enough. They're soft-hearted people, or they wouldn't have taken him at all; and they'll ask no questions after him, lest they should be obliged to have him arrested and brought before a court of law. He's safe enough."

On hearing these words Oliver jumped suddenly to his feet and tore wildly from the room, uttering loud cries for help.

"Keep back the dog, Bill!" cried Nancy, jumping to the door and closing it, as the Jew and his two pupils rushed out in pursuit. "Keep back the dog; he'll tear the boy to pieces."

"Serve him right!" cried Sikes, struggling to free himself from the girl's grasp. "Stand off from me, or I'll split your head against the wall."

He pushed the girl from him to the farther end of the room, just as the Jew and the two boys returned, dragging Oliver among them.

"So you wanted to run away, my dear, did you?" said the Jew, taking up a short heavy stick which lay in a corner of the fire-place.

Oliver made no reply, but he watched the Jew's motions, and breathed quickly.

"Wanted to get help; called for the police, did you?" said the Jew, catching the boy by the arm. "We'll cure you of that, my young master."

He gave Oliver a hard blow on the shoulders with the stick, and was raising it for a second when the girl, rushing forward, snatched it from his hand and threw it violently into the fire.

"I won't stand by and see it done, Fagin," cried the girl. "You've got the boy, and what more would you have? Leave him alone—leave him alone—or I'll kill you."

"Why, Nancy!" said the Jew, "you're more clever than ever tonight. Ha! ha! my dear, you are acting beautifully."

"Am I?" said the girl. "Take care I don't overdo it. You will be the worse for it, Fagin, if I do; and so I tell you in good time to keep clear of me."

"What do you mean by this?" said Sikes. "Do you know who you are, and what you are?"

"Oh, yes, I know all about it," replied the girl.

"Well, then, keep quiet," growled Sikes, "or I'll quiet you for a good long time to come. You're a nice one, to take up the humane side and make a friend of the boy!"

"God help me, I am!" cried the girl passionately, "and I wish I had been struck dead in the street before I had lent a hand in bringing him here. He's a thief, a liar, a devil, all that's bad, from this night forth. Isn't that enough for the old wretch, without blows?"

"Come, come," said the Jew, "we must have civil words; civil words."

"Civil words!" cried the girl, whose anger was frightful to see. "Civil words, you villain! Yes, you deserve them from me. I robbed for you when I was a child not half as old as this!" pointing to Oliver. "I have been in the same trade for twelve years, don't you know it? Speak out! Don't you know it?"

"Well, well," replied the Jew, "and if you have, it's your living!"

"Aye, it is!" returned the girl. "It is my living; and the cold, wet, dirty streets are my home; and you're the wretch that drove me to them long ago, and that'll keep me there, day and night, day and night, till I die!"

"I shall do you more harm than that," said the Jew, "if you say any more!"

The girl said nothing more, but tearing her hair and dress in a fit of passion, made such a rush at the Jew as would have left marks of her revenge upon him, had not her wrists been seized by Sikes at the right moment. She struggled in vain, and then she fainted.