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whom Oliver had never seen before； but who was accosted by the
Dodger as Tom Chitling； and who； having lingered on the stairs to
exchange a few gallantries with the lady； now made his
appearance。
Mr。 Chitling was older in years than the Dodger； having
perhaps numbered eighteen winters； but there was a degree of
deference in his deportment towards the young gentleman which
seemed to indicate that he felt himself conscious of a slight
inferiority in point of genius and professional acquirements。 He
had small； twinkling eyes； and a pock…marked face； wore a fur cap；
a dark corduroy jacket； greasy fustian trousers； and an apron。 His
wardrobe was； in truth； rather out of repair； but he excused
himself to the company by stating that his “time” was only out an
hour before； and that； in consequence of having worn the
regimentals for six weeks past； he had not been able to bestow any
attention on his private clothes。 Mr。 Chitling added； with strong
marks of irritation； that the new way of fumigating clothes up
yonder was infernal unconstitutional； for it burned holes in them；
and there was no remedy against the county。 The same remark he
considered to apply to the regulation mode of cutting the hair；
which he held to be decidedly unlawful。 Mr。 Chitling wound up his
observations by stating that he had not touched a drop of anything
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for forty…two mortal long hard…working days； and that he “Wished
he might be busted if he warn’t as dry as a lime…basket。”
“Where do you think the gentleman has come from； Oliver”？
inquired the Jew； with a grin； as the other boys put a bottle of
spirits on the table。
“I—I—don’t know； sir；” replied Oliver。
“Who’s that？” inquired Tom Chitling； casting a contemptuous
look at Oliver。
“A young friend of mine； my dear；” replied the Jew。
“He’s in luck； then；” said the young man； with a meaning look
at Fagin。 “Never mind where I come from； young ’un； you’ll find
your way there； soon enough； I’ll bet a crown！”
At this sally； the boys laughed。 After some more jokes on the
same subject； they exchanged a few short whispers with Fagin；
and withdrew。
After some words apart between the last comer and Fagin； they
drew their chairs towards the fire： and the Jew； telling Oliver to
come and sit by him； led the conversation to the topics most
calculated to interest his hearers。 These were； the great
advantages of the trade； the proficiency of the Dodger； and
amiability of Charles Bates； and the liberality of the Jew himself。
At length these subjects displayed signs of being thoroughly
exhausted； and Mr。 Chitling did the same； for the house of
correction becomes fatiguing after a week or two。 Miss Betsy
accordingly withdrew； and left the party to their repose。
From this day； Oliver was seldom left alone； but was placed in
almost constant communication with the two boys； who played the
old game with the Jew every day： whether for their own
improvement or Oliver’s； Mr。 Fagin best knew。 At other times the
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Oliver Twist 194
old man would tell them stories of robberies he had committed in
his younger days； mixed up with so much that was droll and
curious； that Oliver could not help laughing heartily； and showing
that he was amused in spite of all his better feelings。
In short； the wily old Jew had the boy in his toils； and having
prepared his mind； by solitude and gloom； to prefer any society to
the companionship of his own sad thoughts in such a dreary place；
was now slowly instilling into his soul the poison which he hoped
would blacken it； and change its hue for ever。
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Chapter 19
In Which A Notable Plan Is Discussed And
Determined On。
It was a chill； damp； windy night； when the Jew； buttoning his
greatcoat tight round his shrivelled body； and pulling the
collar up over his ears so as completely to obscure the lower
part of his face； emerged from his den。 He paused on the step as
the door was locked and chained behind him； and having listened
while the boys made all secure； and until their retreating footsteps
were no longer audible； slunk down the street as quickly as he
could。
The house to which Oliver had been conveyed； was in the
neighbourhood of Whitechapel。 The Jew stopped for an instant at
the corner of the street； and； glancing suspiciously round； crossed
the road； and struck off in the direction of Spitalfields。
The mud lay thick upon the stones； and a black mist hung over
the streets； the rain fell sluggishly down； and everything felt cold
and clammy to the touch。 It seemed just the night when it befitted
such a being as the Jew to be abroad。 As he glided stealthily along；
creeping beneath the shelter of the walls and doorways； the
hideous old man seemed like some loathsome reptile； engendered
in the slime and darkness through which he moved； crawling
forth； by night； in search of some rich offal for a meal。
He kept on his course； through many winding and narrow
ways； until he reached Bethnal Green； then； turning suddenly off
to the left； he soon became involved in a maze of the mean and
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dirty streets which abound in that close and densely populated
quarter。
The Jew was evidently too familiar with the ground he
traversed to be at all bewildered； either by the darkness of the
night； or the intricacies of the way。 He hurried through several
alleys and streets； and at length turned into one； lighted only by a
single lamp at the farther end。 At the door of a house in this street；
he knocked； and having exchanged a few muttered words with the
person who opened it； he walked upstairs。
A dog growled as he touched the handle of a room door； and a
man’s voice demanded who was there。
“Only me； Bill； only me； my dear；” said the Jew； looking in。
“Bring in your body then；” said Sikes。 “Lie down； you stupid
brute！ Don’t you know the devil when he’s got a greatcoat on？”
Apparently； the dog had been somewhat deceived by Mr。
Fagin’s outer garment； for as the Jew unbuttoned it； and threw it
over the back of a chair； he retired to the corner from which he
had risen； wagging his tail as he went； to show that he was as well
satisfied as it was in his nature to be。
“Well！” said Sikes。
“Well； my dear；” replied the Jew。—“Ah！ Nancy。”
The latter recognition was uttered with just enough of
embarrassment to imply a doubt of its reception； for Mr。 Fagin
and his young friend had not met； since she had interfered in
behalf of Oliver。 All doubts upon the subject； if he had any； were
speedily removed by the young lady’s behaviour。 She took her feet
off the fender； pushed back her chair； and bade Fagin draw up his；
without saying more about it； for it was a cold night； and no
mistake。
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“It is cold； Nancy； dear；” said the Jew； as he warmed his skinny
hands over the fire。 “It seems to go right through one；” added the
old man； touching his side。
“It must be a piercer； if it finds its way through your heart；”
said Mr。 Sikes。 “Give him something to drink； Nancy。 Burn my
body； make haste！ It’s enough to turn a man ill； to see his lean old
carcass shivering in that way； like a ugly ghost just rose from the
grave。”
Nancy quickly brought a bottle from a cupboard； in which there
were many； which； to judge from the diversity of their appearance；
were filled with several kinds of liquids。 Sikes； pouring out a glass
of brandy； bade the Jew drink it off。
“Quite enough； quite； thank ye； Bill” replied the Jew； putting
down the glass after just setting his lips to it。
“What！ You’re afraid of our getting the better of you； are you？”
inquired Sikes； fixing his eyes on the Jew。 “Ugh！” With a hoarse
grunt of contempt； Mr。 Sikes seized the glass； and threw the
remainder of its contents into the ashes： as a preparatory
ceremony to filling it again for himself； which he did at once。
The Jew glanced round the room； as his companion tossed
down the second glassful； not in curiosity； for he had seen it often
before； but in a restless and suspicious manner habitual to him。 It
was a meanly furnished apartment； with nothing but the contents
of the closet to induce the belief that its occupier was anything but
a working man； and with no more suspicious articles displayed to
view than two or three heavy bludgeons which stood in a corner
and a “life…preserver” that hung over the chimney…piece。
“There；” said Sikes； smacking his lips。 “Now I’m ready。”
“For business？” inquired the Jew。
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“For business；” replied Sikes； “so say what you’ve got to say。”
“About the crib at Chertsey； Bill？” said the Jew； drawing his
chair forward； and speaking in a very low voice。
“Yes。 Wot about it？” inquired Sikes。
“Ah！ you know what I