Chapter XV

by Charles Dickens

　　Showing How Very Fond of Oliver Twist, The Merry Old Jew and Miss Nancy WereIn the obscure parlour of a low public-house, in the filthiestpart of Little Saffron Hill; a dark and gloomy den, where aflaring gas-light burnt all day in the winter-time; and where noray of sun ever shone in the summer: there sat, brooding over alittle pewter measure and a small glass, strongly impregnatedwith the smell of liquor, a man in a velveteen coat, drab shorts,half-boots and stockings, whom even by that dim light noexperienced agent of the police would have hesitated to recogniseas Mr. William Sikes. At his feet, sat a white-coated, red-eyeddog; who occupied himself, alternately, in winking at his masterwith both eyes at the same time; and in licking a large, freshcut on one side of his mouth, which appeared to be the result ofsome recent conflict.'Keep quiet, you warmint! Keep quiet!' said Mr. Sikes, suddenlybreaking silence. Whether his meditations were so intense as tobe disturbed by the dog's winking, or whether his feelings wereso wrought upon by his reflections that they required all therelief derivable from kicking an unoffending animal to allaythem, is matter for argument and consideration. Whatever was thecause, the effect was a kick and a curse, bestowed upon the dogsimultaneously.Dogs are not generally apt to revenge injuries inflicted uponthem by their masters; but Mr. Sikes's dog, having faults oftemper in common with his owner, and labouring, perhaps, at thismoment, under a powerful sense of injury, made no more ado but atonce fixed his teeth in one of the half-boots. Having given in ahearty shake, he retired, growling, under a form; just escapingthe pewter measure which Mr. Sikes levelled at his head.'You would, would you?' said Sikes, seizing the poker in onehand, and deliberately opening with the other a largeclasp-knife, which he drew from his pocket. 'Come here, you borndevil! Come here! D'ye hear?'The dog no doubt heard; because Mr. Sikes spoke in the veryharshest key of a very harsh voice; but, appearing to entertainsome unaccountable objection to having his throat cut, heremained where he was, and growled more fiercely than before: atthe same time grasping the end of the poker between his teeth,and biting at it like a wild beast.This resistance only infuriated Mr. Sikes the more; who, droppingon his knees, began to assail the animal most furiously. The dogjumped from right to left, and from left to right; snapping,growling, and barking; the man thrust and swore, and struck andblasphemed; and the struggle was reaching a most critical pointfor one or other; when, the door suddenly opening, the dog dartedout: leaving Bill Sikes with the poker and the clasp-knife inhis hands.There must always be two parties to a quarrel, says the oldadage. Mr. Sikes, being disappointed of the dog's participation,at once transferred his share in the quarrel to the new comer.'What the devil do you come in between me and my dog for?' saidSikes, with a fierce gesture.'I didn't know, my dear, I didn't know,' replied Fagin, humbly;for the Jew was the new comer.'Didn't know, you white-livered thief!' growled Sikes. 'Couldn'tyou hear the noise?''Not a sound of it, as I'm a living man, Bill,' replied the Jew.'Oh no! You hear nothing, you don't,' retorted Sikes with afierce sneer. 'Sneaking in and out, so as nobody hears how youcome or go! I wish you had been the dog, Fagin, half a minuteago.''Why?' inquired the Jew with a forced smile.'Cause the government, as cares for the lives of such men as you,as haven't half the pluck of curs, lets a man kill a dog how helikes,' replied Sikes, shutting up the knife with a veryexpressive look; 'that's why.'The Jew rubbed his hands; and, sitting down at the table,affected to laugh at the pleasantry of his friend. He wasobviously very ill at ease, however.'Grin away,' said Sikes, replacing the poker, and surveying himwith savage contempt; 'grin away. You'll never have the laugh atme, though, unless it's behind a nightcap. I've got the upperhand over you, Fagin; and, d--me, I'll keep it. There! If I go,you go; so take care of me.''Well, well, my dear,' said the Jew, 'I know all that;we--we--have a mutual interest, Bill,--a mutual interest.''Humph,' said Sikes, as if he though the interest lay rather moreon the Jew's side than on his. 'Well, what have you got to sayto me?''It's all passed safe through the melting-pot,' replied Fagin,'and this is your share. It's rather more than it ought to be,my dear; but as I know you'll do me a good turn another time,and--''Stow that gammon,' interposed the robber, impatiently. 'Where isit? Hand over!''Yes, yes, Bill; give me time, give me time,' replied the Jew,soothingly. 'Here it is! All safe!' As he spoke, he drew forthan old cotton handkerchief from his breast; and untying a largeknot in one corner, produced a small brown-paper packet. Sikes,snatching it from him, hastily opened it; and proceeded to countthe sovereigns it contained.'This is all, is it?' inquired Sikes.'All,' replied the Jew.'You haven't opened the parcel and swallowed one or two as youcome along, have you?' inquired Sikes, suspiciously. 'Don't puton an injured look at the question; you've done it many a time.Jerk the tinkler.'These words, in plain English, conveyed an injunction to ring thebell. It was answered by another Jew: younger than Fagin, butnearly as vile and repulsive in appearance.Bill Sikes merely pointed to the empty measure. The Jew,perfectly understanding the hint, retired to fill it: previouslyexchanging a remarkable look with Fagin, who raised his eyes foran instant, as if in expectation of it, and shook his head inreply; so slightly that the action would have been almostimperceptible to an observant third person. It was lost uponSikes, who was stooping at the moment to tie the boot-lace whichthe dog had torn. Possibly, if he had observed the briefinterchange of signals, he might have thought that it boded nogood to him.'Is anybody here, Barney?' inquired Fagin; speaking, now thatthat Sikes was looking on, without raising his eyes from theground.'Dot a shoul,' replied Barney; whose words: whether they camefrom the heart or not: made their way through the nose.'Nobody?' inquired Fagin, in a tone of surprise: which perhapsmight mean that Barney was at liberty to tell the truth.'Dobody but Biss Dadsy,' replied Barney.'Nancy!' exclaimed Sikes. 'Where? Strike me blind, if I don'thonour that 'ere girl, for her native talents.''She's bid havid a plate of boiled beef id the bar,' repliedBarney.'Send her here,' said Sikes, pouring out a glass of liquor. 'Sendher here.'Barney looked timidly at Fagin, as if for permission; the Jewreamining silent, and not lifting his eyes from the ground, heretired; and presently returned, ushering in Nancy; who wasdecorated with the bonnet, apron, basket, and street-door key,complete.'You are on the scent, are you, Nancy?' inquired Sikes,proffering the glass.'Yes, I am, Bill,' replied the young lady, disposing of itscontents; 'and tired enough of it I am, too. The young brat'sbeen ill and confined to the crib; and--''Ah, Nancy, dear!' said Fagin, looking up.Now, whether a peculiar contraction of the Jew's red eye-brows,and a half closing of his deeply-set eyes, warned Miss Nancy thatshe was disposed to be too communicative, is not a matter of muchimportance. The fact is all we need care for here; and the factis, that she suddenly checked herself, and with several gracioussmiles upon Mr. Sikes, turned the conversation to other matters.In about ten minutes' time, Mr. Fagin was seized with a fit ofcoughing; upon which Nancy pulled her shawl over her shoulders,and declared it was time to go. Mr. Sikes, finding that he waswalking a short part of her way himself, expressed his intentionof accompanying her; they went away together, followed, at alittle distant, by the dog, who slunk out of a back-yard as soonas his master was out of sight.The Jew thrust his head out of the room door when Sikes had leftit; looked after him as we walked up the dark passage; shook hisclenched fist; muttered a deep curse; and then, with a horriblegrin, reseated himself at the table; where he was soon deeplyabsorbed in the interesting pages of the Hue-and-Cry.Meanwhile, Oliver Twist, little dreaming that he was within sovery short a distance of the merry old gentleman, was on his wayto the book-stall. When he got into Clerkenwell, he accidentlyturned down a by-street which was not exactly in his way; but notdiscovering his mistake until he had got half-way down it, andknowing it must lead in the right direction, he did not think itworth while to turn back; and so marched on, as quickly as hecould, with the books under his arm.He was walking along, thinking how happy and contented he oughtto feel; and how much he would give for only one look at poorlittle Dick, who, starved and beaten, might be weeping bitterlyat that very moment; when he was startled by a young womanscreaming out very loud. 'Oh, my dear brother!' And he hadhardly looked up, to see what the matter was, when he was stoppedby having a pair of arms thrown tight round his neck.'Don't,' cried 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 lamentationsfrom the young woman who had embraced him; and who had a littlebasket and a street-door key in her hand.'Oh my gracious!' said the young woman, 'I have found him! Oh!Oliver! Oliver! Oh you naughty boy, to make me suffer suchdistress on your account! Come home, dear, come. Oh, I've foundhim. Thank gracious goodness heavins, I've found him!' Withthese incoherent exclamations, the young woman burst into anotherfit of crying, and got so dreadfully hysterical, that a couple ofwomen who came up at the moment asked a butcher's boy with ashiny head of hair anointed with suet, who was also looking on,whether he didn't think he had better run for the doctor. Towhich, the butcher's boy: who appeared of a lounging, not to sayindolent disposition: replied, that he thought not.'Oh, no, no, never mind,' said the young woman, grasping Oliver'shand; 'I'm better now. Come home directly, you cruel boy!Come!''Oh, ma'am,' replied the young woman, 'he ran away, near a monthago, from his parents, who are hard-working and respectablepeople; and went and joined a set of thieves and bad characters;and almost broke his mother's heart.''Young wretch!' said one woman.'Go home, do, you little brute,' said the other.'I am not,' replied Oliver, greatly alarmed. 'I don't know her.I haven't any sister, or father and mother either. I'm anorphan; I live at Pentonville.''Only hear him, how he braves it out!' cried the young woman.'Why, it's Nancy!' exclaimed Oliver; who now saw her face for thefirst time; and started back, in irrepressible astonishment.'You see he knows me!' cried Nancy, appealing to the bystanders.'He can't help himself. Make him come home, there's good people,or he'll kill his dear mother and father, and break my heart!''What the devil's this?' said a man, bursting out of a beer-shop,with a white dog at his heels; 'young Oliver! Come home to yourpoor mother, you young dog! Come home directly.''I don't belong to them. I don't know them. Help! help! criedOliver, struggling in the man's powerful grasp.'Help!' repeated the man. 'Yes; I'll help you, you young rascal!What books are these? You've been a stealing 'em, have you?Give 'em here.' With these words, the man tore the volumes fromhis grasp, and struck him on the head.'That's right!' cried a looker-on, from a garret-window. 'That'sthe only way of bringing him to his senses!''To be sure!' cried a sleepy-faced carpenter, casting anapproving look at the garret-window.'It'll do him good!' said the two women.'And he shall have it, too!' rejoined the man, administeringanother blow, and seizing Oliver by the collar. 'Come on, youyoung villain! Here, Bull's-eye, mind him, boy! Mind him!'Weak with recent illness; stupified by the blows and thesuddenness of the attack; terrified by the fierce growling of thedog, and the brutality of the man; overpowered by the convictionof the bystanders that he really was the hardened little wretchhe was described to be; what could one poor child do! Darknesshad set in; it was a low neighborhood; no help was near;resistance was useless. In another moment he was dragged into alabyrinth of dark narrow courts, and was forced along them at apace which rendered the few cries he dared to give utterance to,unintelligible. It was of little moment, indeed, whether theywere intelligible or no; for there was nobody to care for them,had they been ever so plain.* * * * * * * * *The gas-lamps were lighted; Mrs. Bedwin was waiting anxiously atthe open door; the servant had run up the street twenty times tosee if there were any traces of Oliver; and still the two oldgentlemen sat, perseveringly, in the dark parlour, with the watchbetween them.