THE BURGLARY
'Hallo!' cried a loud, hoarse voice, as soon as they set foot in the passage.
'Don't make such a row,' said Sikes, bolting the door. 'Show a glim, Toby.'
'Aha! my pal!' cried the same voice. 'A glim, Barney, a glim! Show the
gentleman in, Barney; wake up first, if convenient.'
The speaker appeared to throw a boot-jack, or some such article, at the
person he addressed, to rouse him from his slumbers: for the noise of a wooden
body, falling violently, was heard; and then an indistinct muttering, as of a
man between sleep and awake.
'Do you hear?' cried the same voice. 'There's Bill Sikes in the passage with
nobody to do the civil to him; and you sleeping there, as if you took laudanum
with your meals, and nothing stronger. Are you any fresher now, or do you want
the iron candlestick to wake you thoroughly?'
A pair of slipshod feet shuffled, hastily, across the bare floor of the room,
as this interrogatory was put; and there issued, from a door on the right hand;
first, a feeble candle: and next, the form of the same individual who has been
heretofore described as labouring under the infirmity of speaking through his
nose, and officiating as waiter at the public-house on Saffron Hill.
'Bister Sikes!' exclaimed Barney, with real or counterfeit joy; 'cub id, sir;
cub id.'
'Here! you get on first,' said Sikes, putting Oliver in front of him.
'Quicker! or I shall tread upon your heels.'
Muttering a curse upon his tardiness, Sikes pushed Oliver before him; and
they entered a low dark room with a smoky fire, two or three broken chairs, a
table, and a very old couch: on which, with his legs much higher than his head,
a man was reposing at full length, smoking a long clay pipe. He was dressed in a
smartly-cut snuff-coloured coat, with large brass buttons; an orange
neckerchief; a coarse, staring, shawl-pattern waistcoat; and drab breeches. Mr.
Crackit (for he it was) had no very great quantity of hair, either upon his head
or face; but what he had, was of a reddish dye, and tortured into long corkscrew
curls, through which he occasionally thrust some very dirty fingers, ornamented
with large common rings. He was a trifle above the middle size, and apparently
rather weak in the legs; but this circumstance by no means detracted from his
own admiration of his top-boots, which he contemplated, in their elevated
situation, with lively satisfaction.
'Bill, my boy!' said this figure, turning his head towards the door, 'I'm
glad to see you. I was almost afraid you'd given it up: in which case I should
have made a personal wentur. Hallo!'
Uttering this exclamation in a tone of great surprise, as his eyes rested on
Oliver, Mr. Toby Crackit brought himself into a sitting posture, and demanded
who that was.
'The boy. Only the boy!' replied Sikes, drawing a chair towards the fire.
'Wud of Bister Fagid's lads,' exclaimed Barney, with a grin.
'Fagin's, eh!' exclaimed Toby, looking at Oliver. 'Wot an inwalable boy
that'll make, for the old ladies' pockets in chapels! His mug is a fortin' to
him.'
'There--there's enough of that,' interposed Sikes, impatiently; and stooping
over his recumbant friend, he whispered a few words in his ear: at which Mr.
Crackit laughed immensely, and honoured Oliver with a long stare of
astonishment.
'Now,' said Sikes, as he resumed his seat, 'if you'll give us something to
eat and drink while we're waiting, you'll put some heart in us; or in me, at all
events. Sit down by the fire, younker, and rest yourself; for you'll have to go
out with us again to-night, though not very far off.'
Oliver looked at Sikes, in mute and timid wonder; and drawing a stool to the
fire, sat with his aching head upon his hands, scarecely knowing where he was,
or what was passing around him.
'Here,' said Toby, as the young Jew placed some fragments of food, and a
bottle upon the table, 'Success to the crack!' He rose to honour the toast; and,
carefully depositing his empty pipe in a corner, advanced to the table, filled a
glass with spirits, and drank off its contents. Mr. Sikes did the same.
'A drain for the boy,' said Toby, half-filling a wine-glass. 'Down with it,
innocence.'
'Indeed,' said Oliver, looking piteously up into the man's face; 'indeed,
I--'
'Down with it!' echoed Toby. 'Do you think I don't know what's good for you?
Tell him to drink it, Bill.'
'He had better!' said Sikes clapping his hand upon his pocket. 'Burn my body,
if he isn't more trouble than a whole family of Dodgers. Drink it, you perwerse
imp; drink it!'
Frightened by the menacing gestures of the two men, Oliver hastily swallowed
the contents of the glass, and immediately fell into a violent fit of coughing:
which delighted Toby Crackit and Barney, and even drew a smile from the surly
Mr. Sikes.
This done, and Sikes having satisfied his appetite (Oliver could eat nothing
but a small crust of bread which they made him swallow), the two men laid
themselves down on chairs for a short nap. Oliver retained his stool by the
fire; Barney wrapped in a blanket, stretched himself on the floor: close outside
the fender.
They slept, or appeared to sleep, for some time; nobody stirring but Barney,
who rose once or twice to throw coals on the fire. Oliver fell into a heavy
doze: imagining himself straying along the gloomy lanes, or wandering about the
dark churchyard, or retracing some one or other of the scenes of the past day:
when he was roused by Toby Crackit jumping up and declaring it was half-past
one.
In an instant, the other two were on their legs, and all were actively
engaged in busy preparation. Sikes and his companion enveloped their necks and
chins in large dark shawls, and drew on their great-coats; Barney, opening a
cupboard, brought forth several articles, which he hastily crammed into the
pockets.
'Barkers for me, Barney,' said Toby Crackit.
'Here they are,' replied Barney, producing a pair of pistols. 'You loaded
them yourself.'
'All right!' replied Toby, stowing them away. 'The persuaders?'
'I've got 'em,' replied Sikes.
'Crape, keys, centre-bits, darkies--nothing forgotten?' inquired Toby:
fastening a small crowbar to a loop inside the skirt of his coat.
'All right,' rejoined his companion. 'Bring them bits of timber, Barney.
That's the time of day.'
With these words, he took a thick stick from Barney's hands, who, having
delivered another to Toby, busied himself in fastening on Oliver's cape.
'Now then!' said Sikes, holding out his hand.
Oliver: who was completely stupified by the unwonted exercise, and the air,
and the drink which had been forced upon him: put his hand mechanically into
that which Sikes extended for the purpose.
'Take his other hand, Toby,' said Sikes. 'Look out, Barney.'
The man went to the door, and returned to announce that all was quiet. The
two robbers issued forth with Oliver between them. Barney, having made all fast,
rolled himself up as before, and was soon asleep again.
It was now intensely dark. The fog was much heavier than it had been in the
early part of the night; and the atmosphere was so damp, that, although no rain
fell, Oliver's hair and eyebrows, within a few minutes after leaving the house,
had become stiff with the half-frozen moisture that was floating about. They
crossed the bridge, and kept on towards the lights which he had seen before.
They were at no great distance off; and, as they walked pretty briskly, they
soon arrived at Chertsey.
'Slap through the town,' whispered Sikes; 'there'll be nobody in the way,
to-night, to see us.'
Toby acquiesced; and they hurried through the main street of the little town,
which at that late hour was wholly deserted. A dim light shone at intervals from
some bed-room window; and the hoarse barking of dogs occasionally broke the
silence of the night. But there was nobody abroad. They had cleared the town, as
the church-bell struck two.
Quickening their pace, they turned up a road upon the left hand. After
walking about a quarter of a mile, they stopped before a detached house
surrounded by a wall: to the top of which, Toby Crackit, scarcely pausing to
take breath, climbed in a twinkling.
'The boy next,' said Toby. 'Hoist him up; I'll catch hold of him.'
Before Oliver had time to look round, Sikes had caught him under the arms;
and in three or four seconds he and Toby were lying on the grass on the other
side. Sikes followed directly. And they stole cautiously towards the house.
And now, for the first time, Oliver, well-nigh mad with grief and terror, saw
that housebreaking and robbery, if not murder, were the objects of the
expedition. He clasped his hands together, and involuntarily uttered a subdued
exclamation of horror. A mist came before his eyes; the cold sweat stood upon
his ashy face; his limbs failed him; and he sank upon his knees.
'Get up!' murmured Sikes, trembling with rage, and drawing the pistol from
his pocket; 'Get up, or I'll strew your brains upon the grass.'
'Oh! for God's sake let me go!' cried Oliver; 'let me run away and die in the
fields. I will never come near London; never, never! Oh! pray have mercy on me,
and do not make me steal. For the love of all the bright Angels that rest in
Heaven, have mercy upon me!'
The man to whom this appeal was made, swore a dreadful oath, and had cocked
the pistol, when Toby, striking it from his grasp, placed his hand upon the
boy's mouth, and dragged him to the house.
'Hush!' cried the man; 'it won't answer here. Say another word, and I'll do
your business myself with a crack on the head. That makes no noise, and is quite
as certain, and more genteel. Here, Bill, wrench the shutter open. He's game
enough now, I'll engage. I've seen older hands of his age took the same way, for
a minute or two, on a cold night.'
Sikes, invoking terrific imprecations upon Fagin's head for sending Oliver on
such an errand, plied the crowbar vigorously, but with little noise. After some
delay, and some assistance from Toby, the shutter to which he had referred,
swung open on its hinges.
It was a little lattice window, about five feet and a half above the ground,
at the back of the house: which belonged to a scullery, or small brewing-place,
at the end of the passage. The aperture was so small, that the inmates had
probably not thought it worth while to defend it more securely; but it was large
enough to admit a boy of Oliver's size, nevertheless. A very brief exercise of
Mr. Sike's art, sufficed to overcome the fastening of the lattice; and it soon
stood wide open also.
'Now listen, you young limb,' whispered Sikes, drawing a dark lantern from
his pocket, and throwing the glare full on Oliver's face; 'I'm a going to put
you through there. Take this light; go softly up the steps straight afore you,
and along the little hall, to the street door; unfasten it, and let us in.'
'There's a bolt at the top, you won't be able to reach,' interposed Toby.
'Stand upon one of the hall chairs. There are three there, Bill, with a jolly
large blue unicorn and gold pitchfork on 'em: which is the old lady's arms.'
'Keep quiet, can't you?' replied Sikes, with a threatening look. 'The
room-door is open, is it?'
'Wide,' repied Toby, after peeping in to satisfy himself. 'The game of that
is, that they always leave it open with a catch, so that the dog, who's got a
bed in here, may walk up and down the passage when he feels wakeful. Ha! ha!
Barney 'ticed him away to-night. So neat!'
Although Mr. Crackit spoke in a scarcely audible whisper, and laughed without
noise, Sikes imperiously commanded him to be silent, and to get to work. Toby
complied, by first producing his lantern, and placing it on the ground; then by
planting himself firmly with his head against the wall beneath the window, and
his hands upon his knees, so as to make a step of his back. This was no sooner
done, than Sikes, mounting upon him, put Oiver gently through the window with
his feet first; and, without leaving hold of his collar, planted him safely on
the floor inside.
'Take this lantern,' said Sikes, looking into the room. 'You see the stairs
afore you?'
Oliver, more dead than alive, gasped out, 'Yes.' Sikes, pointing to the
street-door with the pistol-barrel, briefly advised him to take notice that he
was within shot all the way; and that if he faltered, he would fall dead that
instant.
'It's done in a minute,' said Sikes, in the same low whisper. 'Directly I
leave go of you, do your work. Hark!'
'What's that?' whispered the other man.
They listened intently.
'Nothing,' said Sikes, releasing his hold of Oliver. 'Now!'
In the short time he had had to collect his senses, the boy had firmly
resolved that, whether he died in the attempt or not, he would make one effort
to dart upstairs from the hall, and alarm the family. Filled with this idea, he
advanced at once, but stealthiy.
'Come back!' suddenly cried Sikes aloud. 'Back! back!'
Scared by the sudden breaking of the dead stillness of the place, and by a
loud cry which followed it, Oliver let his lantern fall, and knew not whether to
advance or fly.
The cry was repeated--a light appeared--a vision of two terrified
half-dressed men at the top of the stairs swam before his eyes--a flash--a loud
noise--a smoke--a crash somewhere, but where he knew not,--and he staggered
back.
Sikes had disappeared for an instant; but he was up again, and had him by the
collar before the smoke had cleared away. He fired his own pistol after the men,
who were already retreating; and dragged the boy up.
'Clasp your arm tighter,' said Sikes, as he drew him through the window.
'Give me a shawl here. They've hit him. Quick! How the boy bleeds!'
Then came the loud ringing of a bell, mingled with the noise of fire-arms,
and the shouts of men, and the sensation of being carried over uneven ground at
a rapid pace. And then, the noises grew confused in the distance; and a cold
deadly feeling crept over the boy's heart; and he saw or heard no more.
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