Chapter 17 Chapter Sixteen

(The situation after Oliver Twist was taken away by Nancy.) In a spacious open space, the narrow alleys and courtyards finally come to an end, and there are some railings standing around to close the livestock, indicating that this is a cattle and horse market.At this point, Sykes slowed down and walked fast along the way, and Miss Nancy couldn't bear it any longer.Sikes turned to Oliver, and ordered him sharply to take Nancy's hand. "Do you hear?" growled Sikes, seeing Oliver flinch and look back. The place where they stayed was a dark corner, and there were no traces of pedestrians around.Resistance was utterly useless, as Oliver saw most clearly.He stretched out a hand, which was immediately grasped firmly by Nancy.

"Give me the other hand," said Sikes, taking Oliver's free hand. "Come here, Bullseye." The dog raised its head and barked twice. "Look here, darling," said Sikes, pointing to Oliver's throat with his other hand, "and bite him if he whispers a word. Understand?" The dog barked again, licked his lips, and fixed his eyes on Oliver, as if wishing to have his windpipe down at once. "He's as good as a Christian, and if he's not, make me blind." Sikes looked at the brute with a ferocious approval. "Hey, sir, now you know what you're going to get. Shout what you like, and the dog will tell you the trick in a blink of an eye. Come on, little guy."

Bull's-eye wagged his tail in gratitude for this uncharacteristically affectionate compliment, barked again as a piece of advice to Oliver, and led the way. The clearing they were crossing was Smithfield, London's meat market, but it might have been Grosvenor Square, Oliver didn't know anyway.The night was dark and foggy.The lights in the shop could barely pass through the thicker and thicker fog, and the streets and houses were all wrapped in hazy turbidity. This strange place became more mysterious and unpredictable in Oliver's eyes, and his uneasy mood became more and more disturbed. Getting depressed.

They had just walked a few steps in a hurry when a deep church bell began to strike the time. With the first ringing of the bell, the two guides stopped at the same time and turned their heads in the direction of the bell. "Eight o'clock, Bill," said Nancy, when the bell stopped. "You don't need to talk, I can hear you," replied Sikes. "Don't know if they can hear you." "Nevertheless," replied Sikes, "it was Bartholomew when I went in, and there was nothing I couldn't hear, even the tiniest little trumpet in the show. Heard. At night, after I was locked up, there was a lot of noise and noise outside, which made the old prison even more dead silent, and I almost knocked my head on the iron post on the door."

① Bartholomew is one of the twelve apostles of Christ. This festival refers to the market day on August 24 every year. "Poor man." Nancy still faced the direction of the bell when she spoke. "Bill, those pretty boys." "Yes, that's all you women think of," returned Sikes, "beautiful lads. Well, let's treat them dead, so it's not much better." Mr. Sikes, as if intending to quell the rising jealousy with these soothing words, seized Oliver's wrist more firmly, and bade him go on. "Wait a minute," said Miss Nancy, "even if it were you who came out to the scaffold the next time eight o'clock struck, Bill, I wouldn't hurry away. I'll just walk around the place until I Until I fall down, even if there is snow on the ground, and I don’t even have a scarf on my body.”

"How would that be?" said Mr. Sikes icily, "unless you can get a file knife, and twenty yards of strong rope, and you can walk fifty miles, or not at all. , I don't care. Come on, don't stand there praying." The girl gave a chuckle, wrapped her scarf tightly, and they were on their way.Oliver, however, felt her hands tremble, and raising his eyes as he passed a gas lamp, saw her pale. They walked for half an hour along the dirty back-street, meeting almost no one, and the few whom they met could be guessed from their dress and manner, as socially as Mr. Sikes. .At last they turned into a very dirty side street, which was almost full of shops selling second-hand clothes.The dog seemed to realize that he no longer had to serve as a guard, and kept running until he came to the door of a shop.The door of the shop was closed tightly, and there was obviously no one living inside.The house was dilapidated, and a wooden sign for rent was nailed to the door, which looked like it had been hung for many years.

"Here we are," cried Sikes, casting a deliberate glance about him. Nancy slipped under the shutter, and Oliver heard the ringing of a bell.They walked across the street and stood for a moment under a street lamp.A sound came, like the sound of a window frame being lifted up and down, and the door opened without a sound.Mr. Sykes grabbed Oliver by the collar, who was terrified out of his wits, and the three of them walked in quickly. It was dark in the passage.They stopped and waited for the door to be closed and fastened by the man who had led them into the house. "Anyone?" asked Sikes.

"No," answered a voice which Oliver fancied he had heard before. "Is the old fellow here?" asked the robber. "Yes," answered the voice, "sighs and sighs. How could he be glad to see you? No, no." The tone of the reply, and the voice, were somewhat familiar to Oliver, but in the darkness he could not distinguish the outline of the speaker. "Let's see," said Sikes, "or we'll break our necks, or kick a dog. If you kick a dog, watch your legs. Go." "Wait a while, I'll fetch it for you." The voice replied, and then the speaker's footsteps were heard.A minute later, the figure of Mr. John Dakins, that is to say, the speedy Dodger, appeared, holding in his right hand a splintered stick with a candle stuck in the end.

The little gentleman just greeted him with a comical grin, then turned around and told the visitor to follow him down the stairs.They walked through an empty kitchen to an earthy room that seemed to have been built in a small backyard.The door opened, and there was a burst of loud laughter. "Oh, I'm laughing, I'm laughing," cried Master Charlie Bates, for the laughter was coming from his lungs. "Here he is. Oh, cry, here he is. Well, Fagin, look at him, Fagin, look at him. I'm laughing, it's such a fun game, I'm laughing. Pull me up." Come on, who the hell, just let me laugh enough."

The joy was so rapid that Master Bates fell to the ground, kicking and kicking for five minutes with great delight.Then he jumped up, snatched the broken stick from the Dodger's hand, and going forward, looked and looked round Oliver.At this moment the old Jew took off his nightcap, and bowed to the bewildered Oliver, bowing low.The Dodger, who was of a rather sombre disposition, seldom followed the booing, and if such amusements were any hindrance, he now plucked Oliver's pockets in no uncertain terms. "Look how he's dressed, Fagin," said Charles, moving the lamp nearer to Oliver's new coat, and nearly igniting it. "Look at it. First-class material, cut to scream. Oh, my God, it's splendid. And books, too. A gentleman all over, Fagin."

"It's a pleasure to see you in such splendor, my dear," the old Jew nodded with mock humility, "the Dodger will give you another suit, my dear, so you won't get your Sunday clothes dirty. Why don't you write and let us know, dear? We'll get something hot for supper, too." Master Bates laughed again at this, so loudly that Fagin was relieved, and even the Dodger smiled a little.But, now that the Dodger had recovered the five-pound note by this time, it was difficult to say whether it was Fagin's quips or his own discovery that aroused his interest. "Hello. What's that?" asked Sikes, as soon as the old Jew had passed the note, "It's mine, Fagin." "No, no, my dear," said the old Jew, "it's mine, Bill, mine, and those books are yours." "It ain't mine," said Bill Sikes, putting on his hat with an air of determination. "Nancy and I, tell you, I will send this child back.". The old Jew was startled, and Oliver was startled too, but from quite different reasons, for he thought that if he sent himself back the quarrel would really be over. "Hello. Hand it over, will you?" said Sikes. "It's not fair, Bill, it's not fair, is it, Nancy?" suggested the old Jew. "What's fair and what's not," retorted Sikes, "bring it here, I'll tell you. You think Nancy and I have lost our precious time, except to be spies to bring back the little boy who slipped from your grasp." , there is nothing else to do? You bring it to me, you old man, you only have a handful of bones left, and you are so greedy, you bring it to me." Following this gentle persuasion, Mr. Sykes snatched the banknote from the old Jew's fingers, gave the old man a cold look, folded the banknote into small pieces, and tied it in his scarf. "That's what we deserve," said Sikes, "not even half of it. If you like reading, keep it, and if you don't, sell it." "The books are not bad," said Charlie Bates, making various faces, pretending to be reading one of the books. "It's really well written, Oliver, what do you think?" Seeing Oliver hanging his head down and staring at his tormentors, Master Bates, who was born with a sense of humor, laughed wildly again, even more than at the beginning. Come fast. "It's the old gentleman's book," said Oliver, wringing his hands, "that kind, good old gentleman who took me to his house when I had a fever and nearly died, and looked after me, please. You guys, send the book back, return the book and the money, you can stay here forever, but please send it back. He will think I stole it, and the old lady ——They are so kind to me, they will think that I stole it, ah, have pity on me, send the book and money back." Oliver was in agony, and after saying these words, he fell at Fagin's feet, clasped his hands, and begged desperately. "This kid has a point." Fagin turned his head and glanced secretly, and said with his thick eyebrows tightly twisted into a knot. "You are right, Oliver, it makes sense, they will think that you stole these things. Haha!" The old Jew rubbed his hands and laughed. "Even if we were to choose the timing, it wouldn't be such a coincidence." "Of course not," replied Sikes. "The moment I saw him coming from Clerkenwell with some books under his arm, I knew it better. I couldn't have been better. They were bodhisattvas." Heart, can only sing hymns, or they won't take him in at all. They won't say a word about him in the future, so as not to have to report to the police, or lock him up. He's fine now .” While the words were coming out of their mouths, Oliver looked from one to the other, as if lost in a cloud, and bewildered at all that happened.No sooner had Sikes shut up than he sprang up, and, rushing recklessly out the door, screaming for help, the roof of the empty old house roared. "Bill, call the dog." Fagin and his two disciples chased them out, and Nancy ran to the door, barking loudly, and closed it. "Bring the dog back, he'll tear the boy to pieces." "It deserves it," cried Sikes, struggling to free himself from the girl's hand. "Stand aside, or I'll smash your head against the wall." "I don't care, Bill, I don't care," cried Miss Nancy, wrestling the fellow desperately. "I will never let a child be killed by a dog unless you kill me first." "Kill him to death." Sikes gritted his teeth. "If you don't let go, I'm really going to do that." The robber threw the girl across the room, and at that moment the old Jew returned with Oliver on his arms. "What's the matter here?" said Fagin, looking round. "The little girl's gone mad, I'm afraid she is," replied Sikes viciously. "No, the little girl is not crazy." The melee made Nancy's face ashen and out of breath. "She's not mad, Fagin, don't take it seriously." "Be quiet, then, will you?" said the old Jew murderously. "No, I don't!" Nancy answered loudly. "Hello. What are you going to do?" Mr. Fagin was well aware of the style and habits of a woman of special status like Nancy.One thing he knew very well, it would be risky to argue with her any longer.In order to divert the big fellow's attention, he turned to Oliver. "So you want to run, my dear, don't you?" said the old Jew, taking in his hand a knobby and jagged stick that stood in the corner of the fireplace. "Uh?" Oliver made no answer, but breathed heavily, and watched every movement of the old Jew. "You want help, and the police, don't you?" Fagin sneered, and seized Oliver by the shoulder. "My little master, we will cure you of this problem." Fagin swung his stick, and struck Oliver hard on the shoulder.He raised the stick and was about to hit it a second time, when Miss Nancy pounced on her, snatched the stick out of his hand, and threw it into the fire with all her strength, splashing out many red lumps of coal and spinning around in the room. "I won't stand idly by, Fagin," cried Nancy, "you've got the boy, what more?—let him go—you let him go, or I'll give you the poke too Cover it a few times, and send me to the gallows in advance." The girl stomped the floor vigorously to make this threat.With parted lips and clasped hands, she looked at the old Jew and the robber in turn, without a trace of color in her face, which was caused by irritation. "Well, Nancy," said Fagin and Mr. Sikes, after a moment, looking at each other in bewilderment, in a soft tone, "you—you've never been so sensible as you were tonight, ha ha. .My dear, the play is beautiful." "So what," said Nancy. "Be careful, don't let me go too far. If you do go too far, Fagin, you're going to be out of luck, so I tell you, don't mess with me before it's too late." When a woman gets angry—especially if she adds reckless impulsiveness to all the other passions—there is something in him that few men are willing to provoke.The old Jew found that if he tried to pretend to misunderstand the reality of Miss Nancy's anger, things would become irreparable.He could not help stepping back, and gave Sikes a half-pleading, half-cowardly look, as if to show that he was the most suitable person to continue the conversation. Faced with this silent call, perhaps because he felt that his own honor and influence would be related to whether Miss Nancy could be brought back to her senses immediately, Sykes uttered about forty kinds of expletives, threats, these things The quickness of his arrival shows that he has a great talent for invention and creativity.However, this set did not produce obvious effects on the target, and he had to rely on more practical evidence. "What do you mean?" asked Sikes, using a very common curse, involving one of the most beautiful of the five senses of man, of which only one out of fifty thousand mortal utterances To be heard by God once would make blindness as common as the measles. "What do you mean? Damn it. You know who you are and what you are?" ① Sykes curse often refers to the eyes. "Oh, I know, I know all about it." The girl laughed hysterically, shaking her head to and fro, her indifference pretending to be forced. "Well, you'll be quiet, then," growled Sikes, in his usual dog-calling tone, "or I'll keep you quiet for a while." The girl laughed again, even more restlessly than before, and with a quick glance at Sikes, her head turned sideways, and the blood trickled from her biting lips. "You've got guts," said Sikes, looking at her contemptuously. "You also want to learn the heart of a Bodhisattva and become a superior person. You call him a child, but he is a pretty character. You should make friends with him." "God Almighty, bless me, I will," cried the girl impulsively, "if I had known I would have done my part to get him here, I would have been killed in the street, or with anyone we passed by tonight." The people in that place change seats. From tonight, he is a thief, a liar, and a devil, and he is as bad as that. Does the old bastard have to be satisfied with picking him up?" "Hey, hey, Sykes," Fagin reminded in a persuasive voice, pointing to a few teenagers standing aside, who stared wide-eyed at what happened. "Be gentle, everybody, be gentle, Bill." "Be polite!" cried Nancy.She was scowling and frightening to watch. "Be gentle, you wretch! Yes, it's for me to say these things to you. When I was a boy, not half his age, I stole for you." She pointed to Oliver. . "I've been in this business and this business for twelve years. Don't you know? Tell me. Do you know?" "Yes, yes," Fagin said with all his heart to make peace with the matter, "even if that's the case, you're just doing it for a living." "Well, for a living," answered the girl, not speaking, but pouring out the words in a series of sharp shouts. "I lived and lived, and the cold, wet dirty streets were my home, and it was you, the villain, who drove me out into the streets a long time ago and made me stay there, day and night, night and day, until I die." "If you talk too much, I will turn against you." The old Jew was enraged by the insult and interrupted her. "I turned my face even more disrespectful." The girl didn't say any more, she tore her hair and clothes furiously, and ran towards the old Jew, and if Sikes hadn't been quick to grab her by the wrist, she might have left the mark of revenge on him.She struggled feebly a few times before passing out. "She's all right now," said Sikes, laying her down in a corner. "She has such a fit, her arms are so strong." Fagin wiped his forehead and smiled slightly, as if he was relieved that the turmoil was over.Yet neither he, Sikes, the dog, nor the children seemed to agree that it was a trivial matter of common occurrence. "It's terrible luck with women," said Fagin, replacing the stick; "but they're pretty clever, and we can't do without them. Take Oliver to bed, Charlie." "Fagin, I'm afraid he won't wear such a fine dress to-morrow, will he?" asked Charlie Bates. "Of course not," replied the Jew, with the same grin that Charlie had asked. Master Baze was evidently happy to accept the task.He took the broken stick, and led Oliver into the adjoining kitchen, where there were two or three bunks, where Oliver used to sleep.Charlie could not help making several hahahas before he brought out the shabby suit which Oliver had so gratefully discarded at Mr. Brownlow's, and which the Jew who had bought it happened to show Fagin, Fagin thus obtained the first clue as to his whereabouts. "Take off this beautiful suit," said Charlie, "and I'll put it in Fagin's safe. It's very interesting." The wretched Oliver did so reluctantly, and Master Bates rolled up his new clothes under his arm, locked the door behind him, and went away, leaving Oliver alone in the darkness. From next door came Charlie's boisterous laughter and Miss Bette's voice.She came just in time, her best friend was in need of some cold water, doing some unmanly things to wake her up.In any environment more comfortable than Oliver's, Charlie's laughter and Bet's voice would have kept many from sleeping; .