“As you like, my dear, as you like,” replied the Jew. “Is there no help wanted, but yours and Toby's?”

“None,” said Sikes. “'Cept a centre-bit and a boy. The first we've both got; the second you must find us.”

“A boy!” exclaimed the Jew. “Oh! then it's a panel, eh?”

“Never mind wot it is!” replied Sikes. “I want a boy, and he mustn't be a big un. Lord!” said Mr. Sikes, reflectively, “if I'd only got that young boy of Ned, the chimbleysweeper's! He kept him small on purpose, and let him out by the job. But the father gets lagged; and then the Juvenile Delinquent Society comes, and takes the boy away from a trade where he was arning money, teaches him to read and write, and in time makes a 'prentice of him. And so they go on,” said Mr. Sikes, his wrath rising with the recollection of his wrongs, “so they go on; and, if they'd got money enough (which it's a Providence they haven't,) we shouldn't have half-a-dozen boys left in the whole trade, in a year or two.”

“No more we should,” acquiesced the Jew, who had been considering during this speech, and had only caught the last sentence. “Bill!”

“What now?” inquired Sikes.

The Jew nodded his head towards Nancy, who was still gazing at the fire; and intimated, by a sign, that he would have her told to leave the room. Sikes shrugged his shoulders impatiently, as if he thought the precaution unnecessary; but complied, nevertheless, by requesting Miss Nancy to fetch him a jug of beer.

“You don't want any beer,” said Nancy, folding her arms, and retaining her seat very composedly.

“I tell you I do!” replied Sikes.

“Nonsense,” rejoined the girl coolly. “Go on, Fagin. I know what he's going to say, Bill; he needn't mind me.”

The Jew still hesitated. Sikes looked from one to the other in some surprise.

“Why, you don't mind the old girl, do you, Fagin?” he asked at length. “You've known her long enough to trust her, or the Devil's in it. She ain't one to blab. Are you, Nancy?”

I should think not!” replied the young lady: drawing her chair up to the table, and putting her elbows upon it.

“No, no, my dear, I know you're not,” said the Jew; “but – ” and again the old man paused.

“But wot?” inquired Sikes.

“I didn't know whether she mightn't p'r'aps be out of sorts, you know, my dear, as she was the other night,” replied the Jew.

At this confession, Miss Nancy burst into a loud laugh; and, swallowing a glass of brandy, shook her head with an air of defiance, and burst into sundry exclamations of “Keep the game a-going!” “Never say die!” and the like. These seemed to have the effect of re-assuring both gentlemen; for the Jew nodded his head with a satisfied air, and resumed his seat: as did Mr. Sikes likewise.

“Now, Fagin,” said Nancy with a laugh. “Tell Bill at once, about Oliver!”

“Ha! you're a clever one, my dear; the sharpest girl I ever saw!” said the Jew, patting her on the neck. “It was about Oliver I was going to speak, sure enough. Ha! ha! ha!”


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