Chapter 48 Chapter Forty Seven

(Fatal consequences.) It was almost two hours before dawn, an hour in autumn that could indeed be called the dead of night, when the streets were so lonely and desolate that even the sounds seemed to be falling asleep, and lust and commotion staggered home to sleep.It was at such a moment of complete silence that Fagin sat guard in his lair.His facial features were distorted, his face was pale, and his red eyes were bloodshot. Rather than saying that he looked like a human being, he looked like a hideous and terrifying ghost. He crawled out of the grave wetly, but was harassed by evil gods.

He sat hunched over in front of the cold fireplace, wrapped in a threadbare sheet, facing a dying candle on the table beside him.Lost in thought, he raised his right hand to his lips, nibbling his long, black nails with his mouth, and some fangs, which were said to only be found in the mouths of dogs or mice, were exposed in the gums where his teeth had fallen out. On the floor, Noah Claypole was stretched out on a mattress, fast asleep.The old man glanced at him now and then, and then turned his eyes to the candle again. The burnt wick was pulled down and almost snapped in two, and hot wax dripped onto the table. absent-minded.

indeed so.He was annoyed at the failure of his clever scheme, hated the girl who had the audacity to go out with strangers, could not believe for a moment that she was sincere in her refusal to denounce, and was deeply disappointed at the lost opportunity of revenge against Sikes. Fearing that the law would not escape, that his home would be destroyed, and that he would die, all this fanned a furious rage--one after another, these irritating thoughts spun through Fagin's mind at high speed without interruption, one by one. An evil idea, one extremely dark idea was churning in his heart.

He sat there without changing his posture at all, and seemed completely oblivious to the time, until his keen hearing seemed to be caught by the sound of footsteps in the street. "It's finally here," he murmured as he wiped his parched lips, "It's finally here." While speaking, the doorbell rang softly.He crept up the stairs, walked to the door, and in a short while led back a man with a scarf wrapped around his chin and a package under his arm.The man sat down and took off his overcoat, revealing Sikes' burly figure. "Here." He put the package on the table. "Put this away and sell it for as much money as you can. It took a while to get it. I thought I'd be here three hours ago."

Fagin snatched up the bag, locked it in the cupboard, and sat down again, still without saying a word.However, before and after this action, he never took his eyes off the robber for a moment.Now that they were sitting face to face, he stared at Sikes, and his lips trembled so much that not only did his feelings take possession of him, but his appearance changed too, and the robber moved his chair back involuntarily. , looked at him carefully, that frightened look was by no means a faux pas. "What's the matter?" cried Sikes. "Why do you look at people like that?" Fagin raised his right hand and waggled his trembling forefinger in the air, but he was too impulsive to speak for a moment.

"Damn it," said Tossex, feeling his chest in confusion, "he's gone mad. I've got to be careful here." "No, no," said Fagin, at last, "it's not—not your business, Bill. I'm not—not trying to blame you." "Oh, you're not, are you?" Sikes looked at him viciously, putting the pistol into a better pocket on purpose. "It's luck—there's always one of us."It doesn't matter which one is lucky. " "I have something to tell you, Bill," said Fagin, drawing his chair closer, "that will be more painful to you than mine."

"Huh?" The robber looked a little disbelieving, "Speak out. Hurry up, or Nancy will think something happened to me." "Something happened!" cried Fagin. "In her own heart, she has already planned this matter." Sikes stared at Fagin's face in bewilderment, but couldn't find a satisfactory explanation from his face, so he grabbed Fagin by the collar and shook him firmly several times. "Speak, speak," he said, "if you don't speak, you'll die. Open your mouth, and say what you want to say, straight and fast. Speak it, you thunder-struck old dog, Say it."

"If, lad lying there—" began Fagin. Sikes turned his face away from where Noah lay, as if he hadn't noticed him at first. "Uh." He snorted and resumed his previous posture. "Suppose the lad," went on the old Jew, "is going to snitch—to stab us all out—to find the right people first, and then meet them in the street, in order to get our faces Write down the characteristics, each one clearly, so that we can be recognized, and then tell them which den can easily catch us. Suppose he intends to do this package, plus we all The one thing he had more or less a part in—it was purely his own imagination, and he wasn't caught, or snared, or prodded by the priest, and he wasn't out of food and drink—purely He's thinking wildly of his own, willingly, and sneaks out nights and nights to find and tell on the people who love us the most. Did you hear me?" roared the old Jew, with rage in his eyes, "if he does After all this, what are you going to do?"

"What!" Sikes uttered a vicious curse, "if he's alive before I come in, I'll crush his head to pieces with the iron heels of my boots, how many hairs he has, pieces That's how many pieces." "If I did it!" almost howled the old Jew, "I know too much to hang so many people except myself." "I don't know," replied Sikes, gritting his teeth and livid at the mere supposition. "Maybe I'll do something in prison and let them put me in irons. If I'm on trial with you, I'll jump on you in the courtroom and knock your brains out in irons in front of everyone. Come out. I have the strength." The robber raised a muscular arm, raised it, and muttered. "I'll mash your head to a pulp like a wagon full of goods drove past."

"You can really do it?" "That goes without saying," said Sikes, "try it if you don't believe me." "If it's Charlie, or Smarty, or Bette, or—" "Whoever it is," said Sikes impatiently, "it doesn't matter who it is, I'll serve it all the same. " Fagin stared fixedly at the robber, motioned him to be silent, and bent down on the bunk, shook the sleeping man, intending to wake him up.Sikes sat hunched in a chair, with his hands on his knees, watching, looking a little bewildered as to what conclusion he was trying to draw from all the questions that had something to say. .

"Poulter, Poulter. Poor young man." Fagin raised his head, with the expression of a devil waiting for a good show. He spoke very slowly, and the emphasis was obvious. "He's exhausted--tired of keeping her so long--staying with her, Bill." "What did you say?" asked Sikes, leaning back. Fagin made no answer, but once again stooped over the sleeper, and dragged him to sit up.Noah waited until his pseudonym was called several times, then rubbed his eyes, yawned heavily, and looked around sleepily. "Tell me that again--tell it again, and let him hear it too," said the old Jew, pointing to Sikes. "What can I tell you?" Boss Noah, who was sleepy, twisted his body unhappily and asked. "That about--Nancy," said Fagin, taking Sikes' wrist, as if to prevent him from rushing out of the house without hearing the truth. "You followed her?" "yes." "To London Bridge?" "Yes." "Where did she meet two people?" "That's what happened." "It was an old gentleman, and a lady, who had been to others once before. They asked her to name all her accomplices, first of all Monks, which she did--to describe his face, She did--asked her to tell what the house was like where we met and came and went, she did--best place to watch from, she said--when did everybody go there, she said She did it all. She just said it, without a word, and no one made her—did she do it—did she not?” cried Fagin, Going mad with anger. "That's right," Noah scratched his scalp and replied, "That's what it is." "What did they say about last Sunday?" "What happened last Sunday," Noah replied while thinking, "Didn't I tell you?" "Say it again, say it again," cried Fagin, spitting, clutching Sikes with one hand, and waving the other up and down. "They asked her," said Noah, who had regained his consciousness a little bit, and he seemed to be vaguely aware of Sykes' identity, "they asked her why she didn't come at her appointment last Sunday. She said she couldn't come." .” "Why not come—why? Tell him that." "Because Bill, the one who mentioned it to them before, locked her up at home," Noah replied. "What else did she say about him?" cried Fagin. "What else did she say about the man she told them about? Tell him." "Well, she couldn't get out easily unless he knew where she was going," said Noah, "so, the first time I went to see the lady, she—hahaha! When she talked about it, It amused me, really—she gave him a little laudanum." "Damn it!" growled Sikes, and wrenched himself free from the old Jew's hand. "Get out of the way!" He threw old Fagin aside, ran out of the room, and climbed the stairs furiously. "Bill, Bill!" cried the old Jew, hastily following him. "Listen to me, just one word." There was too little time to say this, but luckily the burglar was unable to open the door, and while Sikes was hurling at the door in vain, and swearing, the old Jew came up, panting. "Let me out," said Sikes, "don't talk to me, and take care of me. Do you hear me, let me out." "Listen," said Fagin, putting his hand on the lock, "you won't—" "Say." The other party replied. "Bill, you're not - too - reckless, are you?" It was dawn, and the doorway was bright enough for them to see each other's faces.They glanced at each other, and there was an unmistakable fire in both eyes. "I mean," said Fagin, evidently aware that all the rhetoric was of no use at the moment, "to be on the safe side, don't be too rash. Be quick, Bill, don't be too rash." Sikes made no answer, for the old Jew had already turned the lock on the door, and he opened the door himself, and rushed into the quiet street. The robber didn't stop for a step, didn't think for a moment, neither looked around, raised his eyes to the sky, and didn't cast his eyes to the ground.He made up his mind and stared straight ahead, his teeth were clenched together tightly, and his tense jaw seemed to be about to pierce the skin.He didn't mutter a word, nor did he relax a muscle, he ran all the way to the door of the house.He gently opened the door with the key, quickly stepped up the stairs, walked into his room, and added a double lock on the door.He pushed a heavy table up against the door and drew back the curtain. Miss Nancy lay disheveled on the bed.Sikes woke her up from her sleep, she opened her eyes in surprise, and hurriedly stood up. "Get up!" said the guy. "So it's you, Bill." The girl looked very pleased to see him back. "It's me," replied Sikes, "get up." A candle was burning in the room, and the man tore it from the candlestick, and threw it under the grate.Seeing that it was dawn outside the window, the girl jumped out of bed, intending to pull the curtains aside. "Let it go," said Sikes, holding out his hand to stop her, "that's enough light for my business." "Bill," said the girl in a low voice, alarmed, "why are you looking at me like that?" The robber sat down, his nostrils puffed out, his chest heaved and heaved, and looked at her for a few seconds, then he seized the girl by the head and neck, dragged her into the middle of the room, glanced towards the door, and pulled a large Cover her mouth with a slap. "Bill, Bill." The girl gasped and struggled, strength brought to her by the threat of death--"I--I won't shout--not at all--listen to me--tell me — Tell me what the hell I did." "You know, you ghost woman," replied the robber, trying not to gasp aloud, "you're being watched tonight, and everything you say is being heard." "Then, for heaven's sake, spare my life as I spared yours," replied the girl, putting her arms around him, "Bill, dear Bill, you won't have the heart to kill me." Yes. Oh, come to think of it, this one night alone, I gave up everything for you. You've got time to think before you commit a great crime. I won't let go, and you won't let me go. Bill, Bill , for good God's sake, for your own sake and mine, do not let your hands be stained with my blood. On my own guilty soul, I am worthy of you." The man jumped into a rage and wanted to break free from his hand, but the girl's arms hugged him tightly, and no matter how much he twisted, he couldn't break her arm. "Bill," cried the girl, trying to rest her head on his chest, "the old gentleman and the lovely young lady have promised to give me a home in a foreign country tonight, and let me live in peace and quiet." For the rest of my life, I will go to them again, kneel down and beg them to show such compassion and kindness to you, let us both leave this terrible place, you and I stay far away, and live a clean life, except for those who pray Out of time, forgetting the days we used to live, never seeing each other. It's never too late to repent, that's what they say to me--now I know--but we need time--just a little time." At last the robber freed an arm and took hold of his pistol.Even though he was in the middle of the fire, the thought flashed through his mind: as long as he fired a gun, he would definitely be exposed in no time.With all his strength, he looked at the girl's upturned face (almost touching his own), and struck twice with the butt of the gun. She fell down with a sway, and blood gushed out from a deep gash on her forehead, almost blinding her eyes, but she struggled to get up on her knees, and took out a white handkerchief from her bosom——Ruth A handkerchief of Melai—strengthening her limp body, crossing her hands, holding the handkerchief, and raising it high to the sky, praying in a low voice to the God who created her, begging for forgiveness. The sight was horrific to look at.The murderer staggered back against the wall, shielding his view with one hand, while with the other he grabbed a thick club and knocked her down.