Oliver Twist. Volume 2 of 3. Чарльз Диккенс

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way,” rejoined the girl, affecting to laugh. “For no good, then.”

      Oliver could see that he had some power over the girl’s better feelings, and for an instant thought of appealing to her compassion on his helpless state. But then the thought darted across his mind that it was barely eleven o’clock, and that many people were still in the streets, of whom surely some might be found to give credence to his tale. As the reflection occurred to him, he stepped forward, and said somewhat hastily that he was ready.

      Neither his brief consideration nor its purport were lost upon his companion. She eyed him narrowly while he spoke, and cast upon him a look of intelligence which sufficiently shewed that she guessed what had been passing in his thoughts.

      “Hush!” said the girl, stooping over him, and pointing to the door as she looked cautiously round. “You can’t help yourself. I have tried hard for you, but all to no purpose. You are hedged round and round, and if ever you are to get loose from here, this is not the time.”

      Struck by the energy of her manner, Oliver looked up in her face with great surprise. She seemed to speak the truth; her countenance was white and agitated, and she trembled with very earnestness.

      “I have saved you from being ill-used once, and I will again, and I do now,” continued the girl aloud; “for those who would have fetched you, if I had not, would have been far more rough than me. I have promised for your being quiet and silent; if you are not, you will only do harm to yourself and me too, and perhaps be my death. See here! I have borne all this for you already, as true as God sees me shew it.”

      She pointed hastily to some livid bruises upon her neck and arms, and continued with great rapidity.

      “Remember this, and don’t let me suffer more for you just now. If I could help you I would, but I have not the power. They don’t mean to harm you, and whatever they make you do, is no fault of yours. Hush! every word from you is a blow for me. Give me your hand – make haste, your hand!”

      She caught the hand which Oliver instinctively placed in hers, and, blowing out the light, drew him after her up the stairs. The door was opened quickly by some one shrouded in the darkness, and as quickly closed when they had passed out. A hackney-cabriolet was in waiting; and, with the same vehemence which she had exhibited in addressing Oliver, the girl pulled him in with her, and drew the curtains close. The driver wanted no directions, but lashed his horse into full speed without the delay of an instant.

      The girl still held Oliver fast by the hand, and continued to pour into his ear the warnings and assurances she had already imparted. All was so quick and hurried that he had scarcely time to recollect where he was, or how he came there, when the carriage stopped at the same house to which the Jew’s steps had been directed on the previous evening.

      For one brief moment Oliver cast a hurried glance along the empty street, and a cry for help hung upon his lips. But the girl’s voice was in his ear, beseeching him in such tones of agony to remember her, that he had not the heart to utter it; while he hesitated, the opportunity was gone, for he was already in the house, and the door was shut.

      “This way,” said the girl, releasing her hold for the first time. “Bill!”

      “Hallo!” replied Sikes, appearing at the head of the stairs with a candle. “Oh! that’s the time of day. Come on!”

      This was a very strong expression of approbation, and an uncommonly hearty welcome from a person of Mr. Sikes’s temperament. Nancy, appearing much gratified thereby, saluted him cordially.

      “Bullseye’s gone home with Tom,” observed Sikes, as he lighted them up. “He’d have been in the way.”

      “That’s right,” rejoined Nancy.

      “So you’ve got the kid,” said Sikes, when they had all reached the room: closing the door as he spoke.

      “Yes, here he is,” replied Nancy.

      “Did he come quiet?” inquired Sikes.

      “Like a lamb,” rejoined Nancy.

      “I’m glad to hear it,” said Sikes, looking grimly at Oliver, “for the sake of his young carcase, as would otherways have suffered for it. Come here, young un, and let me read you a lectur’, which is as well got over at once.”

      Thus addressing his new protégé, Mr. Sikes pulled off his cap and threw it into a corner; and then, taking him by the shoulder, sat himself down by the table, and stood Oliver in front of him.

      “Now first, do you know wot this is?” inquired Sikes, taking up a pocket-pistol which lay on the table.

      Oliver replied in the affirmative.

      “Well then, look here,” continued Sikes. “This is powder, that ’ere’s a bullet, and this is a little bit of a old hat for waddin’.”

      Oliver murmured his comprehension of the different bodies referred to, and Mr. Sikes proceeded to load the pistol with great nicety and deliberation.

      “Now it’s loaded,” said Mr. Sikes, when he had finished.

      “Yes, I see it is, sir,” replied Oliver, trembling.

      “Well,” said the robber, grasping Oliver’s wrist tightly, and putting the barrel so close to his temple that they touched, at which moment the boy could not repress a shriek; “if you speak a word when you’re out o’doors with me, except when I speak to you, that loading will be in your head without notice – so, if you do make up your mind to speak without leave, say your prayers first.”

      Having bestowed a scowl upon the object of this warning, to increase its effect, Mr. Sikes continued, —

      “As near as I know, there is’nt anybody as would be asking very partickler arter you, if you was disposed of; so I needn’t take this devil-and-all of trouble to explain matters to you if it warn’t for your own good. D’ye hear me?”

      “The short and the long of what you mean,” said Nancy, speaking very emphatically, and slightly frowning at Oliver as if to bespeak his serious attention to her words, “is, that if you’re crossed by him in this job you have on hand, you’ll prevent his ever telling tales afterwards by shooting him through the head, and take your chance of swinging for it as you do for a great many other things in the way of business every month of your life.”

      “That’s it!” observed Mr. Sikes, approvingly; “women can always put things in fewest words, except when it’s blowing up, and then they lengthens it out. And now that he’s thoroughly up to it, let’s have some supper, and get a snooze afore starting.”

      In pursuance of this request, Nancy quickly laid the cloth, and, disappearing for a few minutes, presently returned with a pot of porter and a dish of sheep’s heads, which gave occasion to several pleasant witticisms on the part of Mr. Sikes, founded upon the singular coincidence of “jemmies” being a cant name common to them and an ingenious implement much used in his profession. Indeed, the worthy gentleman, stimulated perhaps by the immediate prospect of being in active service, was in great spirits and good humour; in proof whereof it may be here remarked that he humorously drank all the beer at a draught, and did not utter, on a rough calculation, more than fourscore oaths during the whole progress of the meal.

      Supper being ended – it may be easily conceived that Oliver had no great appetite for it – Mr. Sikes disposed of a couple of glasses of spirits and water, and threw himself upon the bed, ordering Nancy, with many imprecations in case

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