Oliver Twist Capitulo XXV

CHAPTER XXV

WHEREIN THIS HISTORY REVERTS TO MR. FAGIN AND COMPANY

While these things were passing in the country workhouse, Mr. Fagin sat in the old

den--the same from which Oliver had been removed by the girl--brooding over a dull,

smoky fire. He held a pair of bellows upon his knee, with which he had apparently been

endeavouring to rouse it into more cheerful action; but he had fallen into deep thought;

and with his arms folded on them, and his chin resting on his thumbs, fixed his eyes,

abstractedly, on the rusty bars.

At a table behind him sat the Artful Dodger, Master Charles Bates, and Mr. Chitling: all

intent upon a game of whist; the Artful taking dummy against Master Bates and Mr.

Chitling. The countenance of the first-named gentleman, peculiarly intelligent at all

times, acquired great additional interest from his close observance of the game, and his

attentive perusal of Mr. Chitling's hand; upon which, from time to time, as occasion

served, he bestowed a variety of earnest glances: wisely regulating his own play by the

result of his observations upon his neighbour's cards. It being a cold night, the Dodger

wore his hat, as, indeed, was often his custom within doors. He also sustained a clay

pipe between his teeth, which he only removed for a brief space when he deemed it

necessary to apply for refreshment to a quart pot upon the table, which stood ready

filled with gin-and-water for the accommodation of the company.

Master Bates was also attentive to the play; but being of a more excitable nature than

his accomplished friend, it was observable that he more frequently applied himself to

the gin-and-water, and moreover indulged in many jests and irrelevant remarks, all

highly unbecoming a scientific rubber. Indeed, the Artful, presuming upon their close

attachment, more than once took occasion to reason gravely with his companion upon

these improprieties; all of which remonstrances, Master Bates received in extremely

good part; merely requesting his friend to be 'blowed,' or to insert his head in a sack, or

replying with some other neatly-turned witticism of a similar kind, the happy

application of which, excited considerable admiration in the mind of Mr. Chitling. It

was remarkable that the latter gentleman and his partner invariably lost; and that the

circumstance, so far from angering Master Bates, appeared to afford him the highest

amusement, inasmuch as he laughed most uproariously at the end of every deal, and

protested that he had never seen such a jolly game in all his born days.

'That's two doubles and the rub,' said Mr. Chitling, with a very long face, as he drew

half-a-crown from his waistcoat-pocket. 'I never see such a feller as you, Jack; you win

everything. Even when we've good cards, Charley and I can't make nothing of 'em.'

Either the master or the manner of this remark, which was made very ruefully, delighted

Charley Bates so much, that his consequent shout of laughter roused the Jew from his

reverie, and induced him to inquire what was the matter.

'Matter, Fagin!' cried Charley. 'I wish you had watched the play. Tommy Chitling

hasn't won a point; and I went partners with him against the Artfull and dumb.'

'Ay, ay!' said the Jew, with a grin, which sufficiently demonstrated that he was at no

loss to understand the reason. 'Try 'em again, Tom; try 'em again.'

'No more of it for me, thank 'ee, Fagin,' replied Mr. Chitling;

'I've had enough. That 'ere Dodger has such a run of luck that there's no standing again'

him.'

'Ha! ha! my dear,' replied the Jew, 'you must get up very early in the morning, to win

against the Dodger.'

'Morning!' said Charley Bates; 'you must put your boots on over-night, and have a

telescope at each eye, and a opera-glass between your shoulders, if you want to come

over him.'

Mr. Dawkins received these handsome compliments with much philosophy, and offered

to cut any gentleman in company, for the first picture-card, at a shilling at a time.

Nobody accepting the challenge, and his pipe being by this time smoked out, he

proceeded to amuse himself by sketching a ground-plan of Newgate on the table with

the piece of chalk which had served him in lieu of counters; whistling, meantime, with

peculiar shrillness.

'How precious dull you are, Tommy!' said the Dodger, stopping short when there had

been a long silence; and addressing Mr. Chitling. 'What do you think he's thinking of,

Fagin?'

'How should I know, my dear?' replied the Jew, looking round as he plied the bellows.

'About his losses, maybe; or the little retirement in the country that he's just left, eh?

Ha! ha! Is that it, my dear?'

'Not a bit of it,' replied the Dodger, stopping the subject of discourse as Mr. Chitling

was about to reply. 'What do YOU say, Charley?'

'_I_ should say,' replied Master Bates, with a grin, 'that he was uncommon sweet upon

Betsy. See how he's a-blushing! Oh, my eye! here's a merry-go-rounder! Tommy

Chitling's in love! Oh, Fagin, Fagin! what a spree!'

Thoroughly overpowered with the notion of Mr. Chitling being the victim of the tender

passion, Master Bates threw himself back in his chair with such violence, that he lost his

balance, and pitched over upon the floor; where (the accident abating nothing of his

merriment) he lay at full length until his laugh was over, when he resumed his former

position, and began another laugh.

'Never mind him, my dear,' said the Jew, winking at Mr. Dawkins, and giving Master

Bates a reproving tap with the nozzle of the bellows. 'Betsy's a fine girl. Stick up to

her, Tom. Stick up to her.'

'What I mean to say, Fagin,' replied Mr. Chitling, very red in the face, 'is, that that isn't

anything to anybody here.'

'No more it is,' replied the Jew; 'Charley will talk. Don't mind him, my dear; don't mind

him. Betsy's a fine girl. Do as she bids you, Tom, and you will make your fortune.'

'So I DO do as she bids me,' replied Mr. Chitling; 'I shouldn't have been milled, if it

hadn't been for her advice. But it turned out a good job for you; didn't it, Fagin! And

what's six weeks of it? It must come, some time or another, and why not in the winter

time when you don't want to go out a-walking so much; eh, Fagin?'

'Ah, to be sure, my dear,' replied the Jew.

'You wouldn't mind it again, Tom, would you,' asked the Dodger, winking upon Charley

and the Jew, 'if Bet was all right?'

'I mean to say that I shouldn't,' replied Tom, angrily. 'There, now. Ah! Who'll say as

much as that, I should like to know; eh, Fagin?'

'Nobody, my dear,' replied the Jew; 'not a soul, Tom. I don't know one of 'em that

would do it besides you; not one of 'em, my dear.'

'I might have got clear off, if I'd split upon her; mightn't I, Fagin?' angrily pursued the

poor half-witted dupe. 'A word from me would have done it; wouldn't it, Fagin?'

'To be sure it would, my dear,' replied the Jew.

'But I didn't blab it; did I, Fagin?' demanded Tom, pouring question upon question with

great volubility.

'No, no, to be sure,' replied the Jew; 'you were too

stout-hearted for that. A deal too stout, my dear!'

'Perhaps I was,' rejoined Tom, looking round; 'and if I was, what's to laugh at, in that;

eh, Fagin?'

The Jew, perceiving that Mr. Chitling was considerably roused, hastened to assure him

that nobody was laughing; and to prove the gravity of the company, appealed to Master

Bates, the principal offender. But, unfortunately, Charley, in opening his mouth to

reply that he was never more serious in his life, was unable to prevent the escape of

such a violent roar, that the abused Mr. Chitling, without any preliminary ceremonies,

rushed across the room and aimed a blow at the offender; who, being skilful in evading

pursuit, ducked to avoid it, and chose his time so well that it lighted on the chest of the

merry old gentleman, and caused him to stagger to the wall, where he stood panting for

breath, while Mr. Chitling looked on in intense dismay.

'Hark!' cried the Dodger at this moment, 'I heard the tinkler.'

Catching up the light, he crept softly upstairs.

The bell was rung again, with some impatience, while the party were in darkness. After

a short pause, the Dodger reappeared, and whispered Fagin mysteriously.

'What!' cried the Jew, 'alone?'

The Dodger nodded in the affirmative, and, shading the flame of the candle with his

hand, gave Charley Bates a private intimation, in dumb show, that he had better not be

funny just then. Having performed this friendly office, he fixed his eyes on the Jew's

face, and awaited his directions.

The old man bit his yellow fingers, and meditated for some seconds; his face working

with agitation the while, as if he dreaded something, and feared to know the worst. At

length he raised his head.

'Where is he?' he asked.

The Dodger pointed to the floor above, and made a gesture, as if to leave the room.

'Yes,' said the Jew, answering the mute inquiry; 'bring him down.

Hush! Quiet, Charley! Gently, Tom! Scarce, scarce!'

This brief direction to Charley Bates, and his recent antagonist, was softly and

immediately obeyed. There was no sound of their whereabout, when the Dodger

descended the stairs, bearing the light in his hand, and followed by a man in a coarse

smock-frock; who, after casting a hurried glance round the room, pulled off a large

wrapper which had concealed the lower portion of his face, and disclosed: all haggard,

unwashed, and unshorn: the features of flash Toby Crackit.

'How are you, Faguey?' said this worthy, nodding to the Jew. 'Pop that shawl away in

my castor, Dodger, so that I may know where to find it when I cut; that's the time of

day! You'll be a fine young cracksman afore the old file now.'

With these words he pulled up the smock-frock; and, winding it round his middle, drew

a chair to the fire, and placed his feet upon the hob.

'See there, Faguey,' he said, pointing disconsolately to his top boots; 'not a drop of Day

and Martin since you know when; not a bubble of blacking, by Jove! But don't look at

me in that way, man. All in good time. I can't talk about business till I've eat and

drank; so produce the sustainance, and let's have a quiet fill-out for the first time these

three days!'

The Jew motioned to the Dodger to place what eatables there were, upon the table; and,

seating himself opposite the housebreaker, waited his leisure.

To judge from appearances, Toby was by no means in a hurry to open the conversation.

At first, the Jew contented himself with patiently watching his countenance, as if to gain

from its expression some clue to the intelligence he brought; but in vain.

He looked tired and worn, but there was the same complacent repose upon his features

that they always wore: and through dirt, and beard, and whisker, there still shone,

unimpaired, the self-satisfied smirk of flash Toby Crackit. Then the Jew, in an agony of

impatience, watched every morsel he put into his mouth; pacing up and down the room,

meanwhile, in irrepressible excitement. It was all of no use. Toby continued to eat with

the utmost outward indifference, until he could eat no more; then, ordering the Dodger

out, he closed the door, mixed a glass of spirits and water, and composed himself for

talking.

'First and foremost, Faguey,' said Toby.

'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; then placing his feet against the low mantelpiece, so as to bring his boots

to about the level of his eye, he quietly resumed.

'First and foremost, Faguey,' 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. Damme! the

whole country was awake, and the dogs upon us.'

'The boy!'

'Bill had him on his back, and scudded like the wind. We stopped to take him 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 about 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.