Chapter 23 Chapter Twenty Two

(Night robbers.) "Hello!" a hoarse voice yelled as soon as they stepped into the aisle. "Don't make such a fuss," said Sikes, bolting the door. "Toby, shine a light." "Aha! my old chap," cried the voice, "shine on, Barney, shine a light on that gentleman, Barney, please, wake up." The speaker seemed to throw something like a shoehorn at the guy he was calling to wake him up from his deep sleep, only to hear a piece of wood fall to the ground with a crash, followed by a burst of people chatting in the middle of the night. That indistinct murmur that comes out when you're half asleep.

"Did you hear?" cried the same voice, "Bill Sikes is in the corridor, and no one greets you, and you're sleeping here, as if you'd eaten your opium balls with your meal." , It couldn’t be more efficacious. Now that you are more awake, do you want to use an iron candlestick to wake you up completely?” As soon as the questioning stopped, a pair of feet in slippers hurriedly wiped the bare floor of the room and walked over.From the door on the right, first a faint candlelight flashed, and then a figure appeared. This person has been recorded before, that is, the guy who worked as a waiter in the Honghuashan Tavern. Talking problem.

"Mr. Sikes," cried Barney, with unsure veracity, "come in, sir, come in." "Listen. You get dressed first," said Sikes, drawing Oliver forward. "Hurry up. Be careful I step on your heels." Sikes, complaining of Oliver's slowness, muttered a curse, and pushed him forward.They entered a low, dim, smoky room.There were two or three broken chairs, a dining table, and a very worn settee.A man lay stretched out on a bench, his legs raised higher than his head, and was smoking a long clay pipe.The man wore a well-made snuff-coloured coat with brass buttons, an orange scarf, a tacky and harsh shawl vest, and light-brown breeches.Mr. Crackit (it was he) had very little hair on his head or face, the few that were dyed reddish and curled into long spirals like corkscrews, and from time to time he brushed a few dirty Outrageous fingers stuck in curly hair, fingers covered with large cheap rings.He was a little taller than average, and his legs were decidedly problematic, but that did not in any way detract from his admiration for his riding boots, which he was now contemplating with contentment.

"Bill, man." The character turned his head toward the door. "Glad to see you. I'm almost afraid you won't do it, so I'll have to take the risk alone. Ouch." Mr. Zabi Crackett uttered this exclamation in a rather surprised tone, and his eyes fell on Oliver, who, sitting up, asked who it was. "The boy, that's the boy," replied Sikes, drawing a chair up to the fire. "It must be Mr. Fagin's apprentice." Barney announced loudly with a smile. "It's Fagin's, oh," cried Toby, looking at Oliver. "He's a darling when it comes to cleaning the pockets of those old ladies in the chapel. Face is his cash cow."

"Don't—don't go too far." Sikes took up the conversation impatiently, bent over to his friend reclining on the couch, and whispered something in his ear, which made Mr. Crackett laugh out loud. , and stared at Oliver in amazement for a long time. "There," said Sikes, seated again in his chair. "While we sit here, give us something to eat and drink, as if it were for us, or for me, to cheer up. Little boy, sit down and warm yourself, and rest for a while, you have to be with us tonight. Go out, although the road is not too far." Oliver made no sound, but looked at Sikes timidly and perplexedly, drew a stool by the fire, and sat down, resting his swollen head on his hands.He had no idea where he was or what was going on around him.

"Come," said Toby, and the younger Jew had put some odds and ends and a bottle of wine on the table. "I wish you success." In order to make a toast, he stood up specially, carefully put the empty pipe aside, then walked to the table, filled a glass of wine, gulped it down, and Mr. Sykes also had a glass. "Give the boy a drink," said Toby, pouring out half a glass. "Drink this down, naive." "Really," said Oliver, looking up pitifully into the man's face. "I really--" "Drink it," said Toby. "You think I don't know what's good for you? Tell him to drink it, Bill."

"He can't stand it," said Sikes, clapping his hand on his pocket. "Damn it, this kid is more troublesome than a bunch of clever ghosts, drink, you ignorant brat, drink." Oliver, terrified by the menacing appearance of the two fellows, swallowed his glass quickly, and then coughed furiously, to the delight of Toby Crackett and Barney, who sullenly Mr. Sykes put on a smile too. The matter was settled, Sikes had a good meal (Oliver could eat nothing, and they forced him to swallow a small piece of bread), and the two fell into their chairs and dozed.Oliver was still sitting on his stool by the fire.Barney wrapped himself in a blanket and stretched himself out on the floor next to the dustboard.

They fell asleep, or appeared to be asleep, and for a while, no one stirred except Barney got up to add coal to the stove once or twice.Oliver dozed off drowsily, imagining himself lost in a dark alley, or wandering in a churchyard, and this and that of the past day came back to him. , At this moment, Toby Crackett jumped up and said that it was half past one.Oliver was awakened by him. In the blink of an eye, the other two also stood up and rushed into busy preparations together.Sykes and his partner each wrapped their necks and chins in large black shawls, and put on overcoats.Barney opened the cupboard, took out a few things, and stuffed them hastily into their pockets.

"Barney, give me your voice," said Zabi Crackit. "Here it is," Barney replied, drawing out two pistols. "You take the medicine yourself." "Okay." Toby replied, hiding the pistol away. "Where's your guy?" "I have it," replied Sikes. "The veil, the keys, the eye-piercing black lights—nothing left behind?" asked Toby, fastening a small iron crowbar to a loop on the inside of his coat. "Don't forget," replied the companion, "bring 'em some sticks, Barney. It's time." So saying, he took a big stick from Barney, who had already handed the other to Toby, and was busy putting on Oliver's cloak.

"Come along," said Sikes, holding out a hand. Oliver, bewildered by the rare travel, the atmosphere, the wine which he had been forced to drink, gave Sikes his hand mechanically, and it was for this purpose that he held out his hand. "Toby, take his hand," said Sikes. "Barney, look out." The guy walked towards the door and came back to report that nothing happened.The two robbers went out the door with Oliver between them.Barney closed the door, bolted it, wrapped himself tightly as before, and fell asleep after a while. It was getting dark outside.The fog was much thicker than in the previous midnight.Although it was not raining, the air was still so humid that within a few minutes of being outside Oliver's hair and eyebrows were tensed by the half-condensed vapors floating around.They crossed the bridge and walked toward the patch of lights he had seen earlier.The journey was not too far, and they walked fairly quickly, and they soon came to Jets.

"Cross the town," murmured Sikes, "no one will see us on the road to-night." Toby agreed.They hurried through the main street of the small town.The night became darker, the street was lonely and desolate, sometimes a dim light flickered in the bedroom of a resident, and occasionally a few hoarse dog barking pierced the silence of the night.There was no sound on the street.They were leaving town just as the church clock struck two. They quickened their pace and set foot on a road to the left.After walking about a quarter of a mile, the three stopped in front of a lonely walled house.Toby Crackitt hardly had a moment to catch his breath, and was climbing up the wall in an instant. "Pass that kid first," Toby said, "lift him up, and I'll grab him." Before Oliver had time to look round, Sikes had seized him by the arms, and three or four seconds later he and Toby were lying on the grass beyond the wall, and Sikes was jumping after him. Come in.The three tiptoed towards the house. Only then did Oliver realize that even if the purpose of this long trip was not murder, it was also burglary. Pain and fear intertwined and made him almost lose his mind.He put his hands together and couldn't help but let out a suppressed exclamation, his eyes turned black, his pale face was covered with cold sweat, his legs couldn't be controlled, and he fell to his knees all at once_ "Get up," cried Sikes in a low voice, trembling with anger, drawing his pistol from his pocket. "Get up, or I'll splash your brains on the grass." "Ah. For God's sake, let me go," cried Oliver. "Let me run away and die in the field. I shall never come to this side of London again, never again." No, no more. Ah. Please have mercy on me, don't tell me to steal. For the sake of all the angels of light in heaven, spare me." Hearing this pleading to him, the guy couldn't help cursing viciously, and pulled the trigger. Toby knocked out the gun in his hand, covered the child's mouth with one hand, and dragged He goes to the house. "Shh," cried the fellow, "that's not the thing here. Say one more word, and I'll blow your brains out of you. It's quieter, sure as hell, and more refined. Come on, Bill. The shutters are pried open. I swear he's got more guts. I've seen some veterans his age do this on a cold night, and they'll be fine in a minute or two." Sikes, giving Oliver such an errand by scolding Fagin so badly, set to work with the crowbar as quietly as he could, with all his might.After tossing for a while, Toby stepped forward to help again, and the window panel he had chosen wobbled open. It was a small latticed window, about five and a half feet above the ground, at the end of a corridor at the back of the house, where there might have been a scullery or a small workshop.The opening was so small that those in the house might not think it worthwhile to take precautions here, yet it was large enough to admit a child of Oliver's size.Mr. Sykes subdued the shuttered pane by some trickery, and the window opened wide in an instant. "Listen here, little rascal," said Sikes in a low voice, drawing a shady lamp from his day-sack, and aiming it at Oliver's face. "I'll send you in here. Take this lamp, and walk quietly up the steps in front of you, through the little hall, to the gate, and open it for us to come in." "There's a latch over the gate that you can't reach," put in Toby. "There's chairs in the hall, get yourself up on them. There's three chairs, Bill, with a big blue unicorn and A golden pitchfork is the coat of arms of this old lady." "You can't miss a word, eh?" Sikes gave him a look. "Is the door to the room open?" "It's wide open," Toby replied, peering inside just to be on the safe side. "It's nice that they always leave the door open and hook it up, and the dog has a den there so he can walk up and down the corridors when he can't sleep. Ha! Barney put the The dog got away. Nice job." Though Crackit spoke in a barely audible voice, and did not laugh, Sikes demanded imperiously that he shut his mouth and get to work.Toby shut up.He took out his own lamp, set it on the ground, and put his head against the wall below the window, and put his hands on his knees, and stood firmly, making a step with his back.As soon as the steps were raised, Sikes climbed up, and lightly picking Oliver's feet through the window, lowered him firmly to the ground, without letting go of his collar. "Take this lamp," said Sikes, looking into the room. "See the stairs before you?" Oliver was so frightened out of his wits that he said "I see" with difficulty.Sikes pointed the muzzle of his gun at the street gate, and briefly reminded Oliver that he was always within pistol range, and that if he flinched he would be killed at once. "It'll be done in a minute," said Sikes, still in a low voice. "As soon as I let go, you go to ten. Listen!" "What's up?" the other guy whispered. They listened nervously. "Nothing," said Sikes, letting Oliver go. "Go." During this short time, Oliver regained consciousness.He made up his mind that he must rush upstairs from the hall and call the police, even if it would kill him.Having made up his mind, he immediately walked forward lightly. "Come back," cried Sikes suddenly. "Come back. Come back." The deathly stillness all around was broken suddenly, followed by another cry, and Oliver dropped the lamp in his hand, and he did not know whether to go forward or to run away. The shouting came again—a little light appeared ahead—and before his eyes floated a phantom of two panicked men above the stairs.The disheveled man—a flash of fire—a loud bang—smoke—crash, something shattered somewhere—he stumbled back. Sikes had disappeared, but reappeared in an instant, grabbing Oliver by the collar before the smoke cleared.He fired his pistol at the men behind, and as the two fell back, he hastily dragged Oliver up. "Keep your arms tight," said Sikes, pulling him out of the window. "Give me a scarf, he's shot. Quick. The boy's bleeding so much." There was a loud chime of bells mixed with gunshots.There was a cry of people, and Oliver felt that someone was carrying him on the uneven ground like a gust of wind.The noise from far away gradually blurred, and a cold feeling crept into the child's heart. He couldn't see or hear anything clearly.