CHAPTER XXII

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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