“The boy's right,” remarked Fagin, looking covertly round, and knitting his shaggy eyebrows into a hard knot. “You're right, Oliver, you're right; they will think you have stolen 'em. Ha! ha!” chuckled the Jew, rubbing his hands; “it couldn't have happened better, if we had chosen our time!”

“Of course it couldn't,” replied Sikes; “I know'd that, directly I see him coming through Clerkenwell, with the ooks under his arm. It's all right enough. They're softhearted psalm-singers, or they wouldn't have taken him in at all; and they'll ask no questions after him, fear they should be obliged to prosecute, and so get him lagged. He's safe enough.”

Oliver had looked from one to the other, while these words were being spoken, as if he were bewildered, and could scarcely understand what passed; but when Bill Sikes concluded, he jumped suddenly to his feet, and tore wildly from the room: uttering shrieks for help, which made the bare old house echo to the roof.

“Keep back the dog, Bill!” cried Nancy, springing before the door, and closing it, as the Jew and his two pupils darted out in pursuit. “Keep back the dog; he'll tear the boy to pieces.”

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

“I don't care for that, Bill, I don't care for that,” screamed the girl, struggling violently with the man: “the child shan't be torn down by the dog, unless you kill me first.”

“Shan't he!” said Sikes, setting his teeth. “I'll soon do that, if you don't keep off.”

The housebreaker flung the girl from him to the further end of the room, just as the Jew and the two boys returned, dragging Oliver among them.

“What's the matter here!” said Fagin, looking round.

“The girl's gone mad, I think,” replied Sikes, savagely.

“No, she hasn't,” said Nancy, pale and breathless from the scuffle; “no, she hasn't, Fagin; don't think it.”

“Then keep quiet, will you?” said the Jew, with a threatening look.

“No, I won't do that, neither,” replied Nancy, speaking very loud. “Come! What do you think of that?”

Mr. Fagin was sufficiently well acquainted with the manners and customs of that particular species of humanity to which ancy belonged, to feel tolerably certain that it would be rather unsafe to prolong any conversation with her, at present. With the view of diverting the attention of the company, he turned to Oliver.

“So you wanted to get away, my dear, did you?” said the Jew, taking up a jagged and knotted club which lay in a corner of the fireplace; “eh?”

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

“Wanted to get assistance; called for the police; did you?” sneered the Jew, catching the boy by the arm. “We'll cure you of that, my young master.”

The Jew inflicted a smart blow on Oliver's shoulders with the club; and was raising it for a second, when the girl, rushing forward, wrested it from his hand. She flung it into the fire, with a force that brought some of the glowing coals whirling out into the room.