Chapter 43 Chapter Forty-Two

(One of Oliver's old acquaintances displayed unmistakable genius and rose to prominence as a public figure in the capital.) Nancy put Mr. Sykes to sleep, and hurried to Ruth Maylie with a mission she had taken upon herself, and that was the night when two men walked along the Northern Highway in the direction of London. Now, this biography should show some degree of attention to both of them. One of the visitors is a man and the other is a woman, otherwise it may be more appropriate to say that they are a man and a woman.The former belonged to the kind with slender limbs, bent knees, sluggish, bony body, and their age was difficult to determine-from the perspective of their behavior, they already looked like underdeveloped adults in their youth, while When they are almost adults, they are like children who grow too fast.The female one is still young, with a solid appearance, and seems to be responsible for carrying the heavy burden hanging on her back full-time.Her companion had little luggage, except a small bag wrapped in an ordinary handkerchief, light enough at first glance, hanging dangling from the end of a stick carried on his shoulder.With this condition, and with his extraordinarily long legs, he easily had a lead of about six or seven steps over his companions.Occasionally, he shook his head impatiently and turned around, as if complaining about his companion walking too slowly and urging her to work harder.

In this way, they marched bravely along the dusty road, paying no attention to the scenery within the field of vision, and only when the mail coach was coming from the city of London at a high speed, they avoided the side of the road and gave way to the passage until the two of them passed by. Entering the archway of the high gate, the one in front stopped and shouted to his companion in a disturbed manner. "Come on, can't you walk? Charlotte, you lazy bone." "The burden is heavy, let me tell you." The woman stepped forward, almost out of breath from exhaustion, and said.

"Shen! Thank you for being able to speak out. What are you doing?" The man said while transferring his small burden to the other shoulder. "Oh, look at you, wanting to rest again. Why, what else can you do but wear out people!" "Is it still far away?" The woman sat down against the wall, raised her eyes and asked, sweat dripping down her face. "Very far? We'll be there soon," said the homeless man with slender legs, pointing to the front. "Look over there. That's the lights of London." "It's at least two full miles." The woman felt discouraged.

"Whether it's two miles or twenty miles," said Noah Claypole.It turned out to be him. "Get up and move forward, or I will kick you a few times. I have something to say first." Noah's red nose became even more rosy due to his anger. He muttered words and walked across the road, as if he really wanted to carry out his threat. He walked forward side by side. "Where are you going to spend the night, Noah?" she asked after they had walked a few hundred yards. "How do I know?" Noah replied, his temper had become quite bad because of walking. "I hope it's around," said Charlotte.

"No, not around," replied Mr. Claypole. "Listen! Not around, don't even think about it." "why not?" "When I've said something and don't intend to do a thing, that's enough, no more excuses, because of anything," replied Mr. Claypole with air. "Hey, you don't need to lose your temper like that," said the female companion. "Stay at the first inn you come across outside the city, so maybe Soulberry will stick his nose out and find us, handcuff us, and throw them into a wagon to take us back, and that's a big deal. It's bustling, isn't it?" said Mr. Claypole mockingly. "No. I'm going, I'm just going to pick the narrowest side streets and alleys, and I'll disappear if I don't find them. the most out-of-the-way abode, I wouldn't stop. Damn, you should thank your luck, if I hadn't got a good brain, if we didn't take the wrong way on purpose in the first place, and walk back across the fields, you It's been locked up a week ago, miss. You deserve it, and you're a fool."

"I know I'm not as clever as you," replied Charlotte, "but you can't blame me for being locked up. If I'm locked up anyway, you can't get away." "You took the money from the counter and you knew it was you," Mr Claypole said. "Noah, but I'm taking the money for you, my dear," replied Charlotte. "Is the money with me?" asked Mr. Claypole. "No, you trust me, let me take it with you like a baby, you are really my baby." The lady said, patted his chin, and reached out to hold his arm. This is true.However, it is not Mr. Claypole's habit to follow people blindly and be foolish enough to trust absolutely.It is here to do the gentleman's justice that he had some reason for trusting Charlotte to this point.In case they were caught, the money had been taken from her, which would give him a way out, and he could claim that he hadn't participated in any theft, which would greatly help him get away with it.Of course, he didn't want to clarify his motives at this moment, and the two walked forward lovingly.

According to this careful plan, Mr. Claypole kept walking until he came to the Angel's Restaurant near Ellington. He made a wise judgment based on the density of pedestrians and the number of vehicles. in front of you.He paused to observe which streets appeared to be the most crowded and therefore the most to be avoided.The two turned into St. John's Road, and soon disappeared in darkness. These intricate, dirty and dirty alleys are located between Gray's Hotel Alley and the London Meat Market, and belong to the most unseen leftovers after the reconstruction of central London. One of the regions of the people.

Noah Claypole walked through the alleys, Charlotte trailing behind.Sometimes he went to the side of the road and surveyed the whole appearance of a certain inn, and sometimes he walked forward slowly, as if he had imagined that there must be many people there and it was not to his liking.At last he stopped at an inn which looked meaner and more squalid than any he had seen before, and inspected the pavement across the road before solemnly announcing his lodging. "Give me the burden," Noah said, taking the package off the woman's shoulder and putting it on his own. "You don't talk unless you're asked. What's the name of the inn—three-three-three what?"

"Cripple," said Charlotte. "Three cripples," Noah repeated, "the sign is really good. Hey, don't miss a step, let's go." After finishing his instructions, he pushed open the rattling door with his arm and walked into the hotel. Followed by his female companion. There was only one young Jew at the counter, with his elbows on the counter, reading a dirty newspaper.He looked at Noah gloomyly, and Noah stared at him fiercely. If Noah had been wearing his Charity school uniform, the Jew would have had some reason to open his eyes so wide, but he had thrown away his coat and school badge and was wearing a smock over his lederhosen so For one thing, there seemed to be no particular reason for his appearance to command such intense scrutiny in a hotel.

"Is this the Three Cripples Hotel?" Noah asked. "It's the nickname," answered the Jew. "We were coming from the country, and a gentleman met us on the way, and told us about this place," said Noah, nudging Charlotte with his elbow, perhaps to call her attention to this respectable trick, and Probably to warn her not to make a fuss. "We want to stay here tonight." "It's out of my hands," says Barney, whose monster is featured in several places throughout the book. "I'll have to ask." "Take us to the bar, bring us some cold meat and beer, and then you can ask, okay?" Noah said.

Barney led them to a small inner room, and after serving the food and drinks requested by the guests, he told the two passengers that they could come down that night, and then he retreated, allowing the lovely couple to eat and rest. It turns out that this inner room is separated from the counter by only one floor, and it is a few steps lower. Anyone who is connected with this inn only needs to open a small curtain and pass through the wall of the above-mentioned room under the curtain to leave the ground. A layer of glass about five feet, not only can look down on the guests in the single room, but also don’t worry about being discovered (this glass is in a dark corner on the wall, and the peeper’s head must be connected to a straight pole from the dark corner. sticking out between the girders), you can also put your ear to the wall, and hear the conversation inside quite clearly.Less than five minutes after the shopkeeper's eyes left the observation post, Barney had just withdrawn after conveying those few words to the guests. At this time, Fagin, who had been out for activities at night, walked into the counter, wanting to inquire about one of his friends. The situation of the apprentice. "Hush!" said Barney. "There's a stranger in the next room." "Stranger," the old man repeated in a whisper. "Ah. Queer guy, too," added Barney. "Come down to the country, but can't get out of your hands, or I've misread." Fagin, apparently interested in the news, climbed onto a footstool, and cast his eyes cautiously to the glass, from which, from his secret post, Mr. Claypole could be seen eating a plate of cold beef, He drank the dark beer in the jug, and at the same time distributed some beef and beer to Charlotte in accordance with the homeopathic dietary dosage①, while she sat quietly eating and drinking. ① refers to a very small amount. "Aha," said Fagin in a low voice, turning his head to Barney. "I like the look of that boy. He'll be useful to us. He already knows how to train that girl. Don't make so much noise like a mouse, my dear, let me hear what they're saying—let me hear listen." Again Fagin put his eyes to the glass, and his ears to the wainscot, and listened intently, with the sly eagerness of an old devil. "So I intend to be a gentleman," continued Mr. Claypole, kicking his legs, and Fagin, being a step too late, missed the beginning. "Stop flattering those precious coffins, Charlotte, and live a gentleman's life, and be a lady if you please." "Of course I couldn't be happier, my dear," replied Charlotte, "but the cash-box is not open every day, and others will find out later." "Fuck the cash drawer," said Mr. Claypole. "There's plenty of work besides emptying the cash drawer." "What do you mean?" asked the companion. "Purses, women's bags, houses, mail-coaches, banks," said Mr. Claypole, who enjoyed his beer. "But you can't do all that, my dear," said Charlotte. "I'm looking for a partner who can do it," Noah replied. "They've got a way for us to use it for one thing or another. Why, you're worth fifty women yourself. If I get you out, absolutely You can't find anyone with such smooth talk and scheming." "My God, it's a pleasure to hear you say that!" cried Charlotte, pressing a kiss on his ugly face. "Ai ai, enough is enough, don't be too affectionate, lest I get angry with you," Noah said, struggling to break free. "I want to be the leader of a certain group of people, make them all obey me, and follow them everywhere without them knowing. That's what I like, as long as there is a lot of money. We just need to make friends with a few people." A gentleman of that sort, I say, would do well to spend that twenty-pound note you got—and besides, we don't quite know how to do it ourselves." After expressing his opinion, Mr. Claypole put on an inscrutable look, observed the beer tank for a while, then vigorously shook the beer in the tank, and nodded to Charlotte as a way of showing her face. , he took a sip of his beer and looked much refreshed.He was about to take another sip, but he stopped when the door opened suddenly and a stranger walked in. The stranger was Mr. Fagin.He came forward, looked very amiable, bowed deeply, sat down at the nearest table, and asked a grinning Barney for a drink. "A lovely evening, sir, though a bit cold for the season," said Fagin, rubbing his hands. "From the country, I can see, sir?" "How did you know that?" Noah Claypole asked. "We don't have so much dust in London." The old Jew pointed to the shoes of Noah and his companion, and then to the two bundles. "You have good eyesight," said Noah, "haha! Listen, Charlotte." "Yeah, it takes a little discernment to be alone in the City, my dear," whispered the old Jew in a low voice, confidingly. "That can't be faked." After saying this, Fagin tapped his nose with his right index finger—Noah tried to imitate this action, but because his nose was not big enough, he could not imitate successfully.However, Mr. Fagin seemed to regard Noah's efforts as a sign of fully agreeing with his opinion. He had a very friendly attitude and toasted the wine Barney brought to him. "Very good wine," said Mr. Claypole, smacking his lips. "Well," said Fagin, "a man who wants to have this drink all day long has to keep emptying the cash-box, or the purse, or the woman's bag, or the house, or the mail-car, or the bank. " As soon as Mr. Claypole heard the excerpts from his own discourse, he collapsed on the chair, his face was ashen, and he looked at the old Jew and then at Charlotte with extreme horror. "Don't worry, my dear," said Fagin, drawing his chair closer. "Haha. What luck, I'm the only one who overheard you talking, luckily I'm the only one." "I didn't take it," Noah stammered, no longer stretching his legs like a confident gentleman, but receding as far as he could under the chair. "She did it all. You have the money, Charlotte, and you know it's yours." "It doesn't matter who the money is, or who did it, my dear," replied Fagin, with a hawk-like glance at the girl and the two bundles. "I'm in this business myself, and that's why I like you guys." "Which line?" asked Mr. Claypole, recovering a little. "Serious business," Fagin replied, "and the same with the men in the store. You have found a real one, and there is no safer place in the whole city. See if I'm happy, I like you and this little lady very much, that's why I said that, don't worry." With this reassurance, Noah Claypole's heart may have been relieved, but his body always felt uncomfortable, and he writhed and changed into various vulgar positions while using intertwined Eyes of fear and suspicion looked at the newly-acquainted friend. "I can tell you more," said Fagin, after a friendly nod, and a few murmurs of encouragement to reassure Charlotte. "I have a friend who may be able to satisfy your longing and longing wishes and help you on the right path. With him, you can choose the department you think is most suitable for you from the beginning, and you can also use the rest learn." "You seem to be serious when you speak." Noah replied. "What good does it do me not to be serious?" asked Fagin, shrugging his shoulders. "Come here! I'll go outside and have a word with you." "There's no need to move the place, it's troublesome," Noah said, and slowly stretched out his legs again. "Let her take the time to carry the luggage upstairs. Charlotte, take care of those bags." The order was issued majestically, and carried out without objection.Charlotte saw Noah opened the door and waited for her to go out, so she quickly picked up the package and walked away. "She's trained well, hasn't she?" he asked, sitting back in his old place, sounding like a breeder who's tamed some kind of beast. "Excellent," replied Fagin, patting him on the shoulder. "You're a real genius, dear." "It goes without saying that if I wasn't a genius, I wouldn't be here," Noah replied, "but I still have to say, don't waste your time, she's coming back soon." "What do you think, then?" said Fagin, "if you like my friend, it would be better to be a partner with him?" "Whether the business he's doing is good or not, that's the problem." Noah blinked one of his two small eyes and said in response. "It's top-notch, and I hired a lot of helpers, all of whom are the best in this line of work." "All from the city?" asked Mr. Claypole. "There isn't a single countryman among them. If he hadn't been quite short of manpower at the moment, even if I recommended him, I'm afraid he wouldn't want you." Fagin replied. "Am I going to give a gift first?" Noah said, slapping the pocket of his shorts. "I'm afraid it won't work without gifts." Fei Jin's attitude was very clear. "Twenty pounds, but—that's a lot of money." "If it is a bill that cannot be sold, the situation is different." Fei Jin replied. "Have you written down the number and date? What about the bank stopping the payment? Ah! This kind of thing is of little value to him, and it can only be bought abroad in the future. It can't be sold at a good price in the market." "When can I see him?" Noah asked suspiciously. "Tomorrow morning," replied the old Jew. "where?" "Right here." "Well." Noah said, "How do you calculate the wages?" "Live like a gentleman—free board, tobacco, and drink—plus half what you get, and half what the little lady earns," replied Mr. Fagin. If Noah Claypole was a broker who could make his own decisions, it was doubtful whether he would accept such an attractive offer based on his naked greed alone.But when he thought that if he refused, the new acquaintance could immediately wrest himself to court (and even more inconceivable things had happened), he gradually relented and said that he thought it was all right. "But you have to understand," Noah explained, "Since she can do a lot of things in the future, I hope to find something very easy." "A small, amusing thing?" proposed Fagin. "Ah. Something like that," Noah replied. "What do you think is right for me right now? Not too much work, not too dangerous, you know. That's the same thing." "I've heard you talk of following other people, my dear," said Fagin. "My friend is in need of someone capable of that, very much." "Yes, I did, and I'm not against such things sometimes," Mr. Claypole replied slowly. "However, this kind of thing itself can't make money, you know." "That's true," said the old Jew, thinking, or pretending to think. "Yeah, I can't make any money." "Then what do you mean?" Noah looked at him anxiously and asked. "Maybe you can do something sneaky, as long as it's reliable and not much more dangerous than staying at home." "How about playing tricks on old ladies?" asked Fagin. "Take their handbags and parcels, and turn a corner and disappear. There's a lot of money to be made." "Sometimes, don't they want to yell and scratch with their hands?" Noah shook his head and asked, "I'm afraid that kind of thing doesn't suit me. Is there any other way?" "Yes." Fagin put one hand on Noah's knee and said. "Collect doll tax." "What is this?" Mr. Claypole couldn't understand. "Babies, my dear," said the old Jew, "are the little boys their mother sends shopping, and they always come out with some sixpence or shilling on them. To tax is to rob them of their money— They always hold money in their hands - and then push them into the ditch, and walk away slowly, as if nothing happened, isn't it just a kid who fell into the ditch and hurt himself? Haha Ha ha!" "Haha!" Noah kicked his legs straight in ecstasy and laughed loudly. "Oh yo, just do this." "It's settled," replied Fagin, "we can carve you some good land in Camden Town, at Battle Bridge, and the environ- How many dolls can be pushed into the ditch. Hahaha!" At this point Fagin poked Mr. Claypole in the ribs, and they both broke out in a loud, prolonged laugh. "Oh, everything is fine." Noah said, he had stopped laughing, and Charlotte also returned to the house. "We agreed, what time tomorrow?" "Would ten o'clock be all right?" asked Fagin, seeing Mr. Claypole's nod of approval, and adding, "What shall I call my good friend?" "Mr. Poulter," Noah replied, prepared for such emergencies. "Mr. Morris Poulter. This is Mrs. Poulter." "As Mrs. Poulter's obedient servant," said Fagin, bowing with ridiculous politeness, "I believe it will not take long to get to know Mrs. Poulter better." "Charlotte, do you hear this gentleman talking?" Mr. Claypole roared like thunder. "Yes, Noah, phew," replied Mrs. Poulter, holding out a hand. "She called me Noah, as a term of endearment," said Mr. Maurice Poulter, ex-Claypole, turning to Fagin. "do you understand?" "Oh, yes, I see--perfectly," replied Fagin, telling the truth only this time. "See you tomorrow. See you tomorrow." With many good-byes and best wishes, Mr. Fagin set out on his journey.Noah Claypole first called his wise wife's attention, and began to counsel her about matters he had settled, with a condescending, defiant air not only appropriate for a gentleman, but Just a gentleman, knowing what a dignified special appointment it is to collect a doll's tax in and around London.