upon an old table and three chairs that were placed beneath it.“Now,” said Monks, when they had all three seated themselves,“the sooner we come to our business, the better for all. Thewoman knows what it is, does she?”The question was addressed to Bumble; but his wife anticipatedhis reply, by intimating that she was perfectly acquainted with it.“He is right in saying that you were with this hag the night shedied; and that she told you something—”“About the mother of the boy you named,” replied the matron,interrupting him. “Yes.”“The first question is, of what nature was her communication?”said Monks.“That’s the second,” observed the woman, with muchdeliberation. “The first is, what may the communication beworth?”“Who the devil can tell that, without knowing of what kind itCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 397is?” asked Monks.“Nobody better than you, I am persuaded,” answered Mrs.Bumble, who did not want for spirit, as her yoke-fellow couldabundantly testify.“Humph!” said Monks significantly, and with a look of eagerinquiry; “there may be money’s worth to get, eh?”“Perhaps there may,” was the composed reply.“Something that was taken from her,” said Monks. “Somethingthat she wore. Something that—”“You had better bid,” interrupted Mrs. Bumble. “I have heardenough, already, to assure me that you are the man I ought to talkto.”Mr. Bumble, who had not yet been admitted by his better halfinto any greater share of the secret than he had originallypossessed, listened to this dialogue with outstretched neck anddistended eyes, which he directed towards his wife and Monks, byturns, in undisguised astonishment—increased, if possible, whenthe latter sternly demanded what sum was required for thedisclosure.“What’s it worth to you?” asked the woman, as collectedly asbefore.“It may be nothing; it may be twenty pounds,” replied Monks.“Speak out, and let me know which.”“Add five pounds to the sum you have named; give me five-andtwenty pounds in gold,” said the woman; “and I’ll tell you all Iknow. Not before.”“Five-and-twenty pounds!” exclaimed Monks, drawing back.“I spoke as plainly as I could,” replied Mrs. Bumble. “It’s not alarge sum, either.”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 398“Not a large sum for a paltry secret, that may be nothing whenit’s told!” cried Monks impatiently; “and which has been lyingdead for twelve years past or more!”“Such matters keep well, and, like good wine, often double theirvalue in course of time,” answered the matron, still preserving theresolute indifference she had assumed. “As to lying dead, thereare those who will lie dead for twelve thousand years to come, ortwelve million, for anything you or I know, who will tell strangetales at last!”“What if I pay it for nothing?” asked Monks hesitatingly.“You can easily take it away again,” replied the matron. “I ambut a woman, alone here, and unprotected.”“Not alone, my dear, nor unprotected neither,” submitted Mr.Bumble, in a voice tremulous with fear; “I am here, my dear. Andbesides,” said Mr. Bumble, his teeth chattering as he spoke, “Mr.Monks is too much of a gentleman to attempt any violence onporochial persons. Mr. Monks is aware that I am not a young man,my dear, and also that I am a little run to seed, as I may say; but hehas heerd—I say I have no doubt Mr. Monks has heerd, my dear—that I am a very determined officer, with very uncommonstrength, if I’m once roused. I only want a little rousing; that’s all.”As Mr. Bumble spoke, he made a melancholy feint of graspinghis lantern with fierce determination; and plainly showed, by thealarmed expression of every feature, that he did want a littlerousing, and not a little, prior to making any very warlikedemonstration—unless, indeed, against paupers, or other personor persons trained down for the purpose.“You are a fool,” said Mrs. Bumble, in reply; “and had betterhold your tongue.”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 399“He had better have cut it out, before he came, if he can’t speakin a lower tone,” said Monks grimly. “So! He’s your husband, eh?”“He my husband!” tittered the matron, parrying the question.“I thought as much, when you came in,” rejoined Monks,marking the angry glance which the lady darted at her spouse asshe spoke. “So much the better; I have less hesitation in dealingwith two people, when I find that there’s only one will betweenthem. I’m in earnest. See here!” He thrust his hand into a side-pocket; and, producing a canvas bag, told out twenty-fivesovereigns on the table, and pushed them over to the woman.“Now,” he said, “gather them up; and when this cursed peal ofthunder, which I feel is coming up to break over the house-top, isgone, let’s hear your story.”The thunder, which seemed in fact much nearer and to shiverand break almost over their heads, having subsided, Monks,raising his face from the table, bent forward to listen to what thewoman should say. The faces of the three nearly touched, as thetwo men leaned over the small table in their eagerness to hear,and the woman also leaned forward to render her whisper audible.The sickly rays of the suspended lantern falling directly uponthem, aggravated the paleness and anxiety of their countenances,which, encircled by the deepest gloom and darkness, lookedghastly in the extreme.“When this woman, that we called old Sally, died,” the matronbegan, “she and I were alone.”“Was there no one by?” asked Monks, in the same hollowwhisper; “no sick wretch or idiot in some other bed? No one whocould hear, and might, by possibility, understand?”“Not a soul,” replied the woman; “we were alone. I stood aloneCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 400beside the body when death came over it.”“Good,” said Monks, regarding her attentively. “Go on.”“She spoke of a young creature,” resumed the matron, “whohad brought a child into the world some years before; not merelyin the same room, but in the same bed, in which she then laydying.”‘‘Ay?” said Monks, with quivering lip, and glancing over hisshoulder. “Blood! How things come about!”“The child was the one you named to him last night,” said thematron, nodding carelessly towards her husband; “the mother thisnurse had robbed.”“In life?” asked Monks.“In death,” replied the woman, with something like a shudder.“She stole from the corpse, when it had hardly turned to one, thatwhich the dead mother had prayed her, with her last breath, tokeep for the infant’s sake.”“She sold it?” cried Monks, with desperate eagerness; “did shesell it? Where! When? To whom? How long before?”“As she told me, with great difficulty, that she had done this,”said the matron, “she fell back and died.”“Without saying more?” cried Monks, in a voice which, from itsvery suppression, seemed only the more furious. “It’s a lie! I’ll notbe played with. She said more. I’ll tear the life out of you both, butI’ll know what it was.”“She didn’t utter another word,” said the woman, to allappearance unmoved (as Mr. Bumble was very far from being) bythe strange man’s violence; “but she clutched my gown, violently,with one hand, which was partly closed; and when I saw that shewas dead, and so removed the hand by force, I found it clasped aCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 401scrap of dirty paper.”“Which contained—” interposed Monks, stretching forward.“Nothing,” replied the woman; “it was a pawnbroker’sduplicate.”“For what?” demanded Monks.“In good time I’ll tell you,” said the woman. “I judge that shehad kept the trinket, for some time, in the hope of turning it tobetter account; and then had pawned it; and had saved or scrapedtogether money to pay the pawnbroker’s interest year by year, andprevent it running out; so that if anything came of it, it could stillbe redeemed. Nothing had come of it; and, as I tell you, she diedwith the scrap of paper, all worn and tattered, in her hand. Thetime was out in two days; I thought something might one day comeof it too; and so redeemed the pledge.”“Where is it now?” asked Monks quickly.“There,” replied the woman. And, as if glad to be relieved of it,she hastily threw upon the table a small kid bag scarcely largeenough for a French watch, which Monks pouncing upon, toreopen with trembling hands. It contained a little gold locket, inwhich were two locks of hair, and a plain gold wedding-ring.“It has the word ‘Agnes’ engraved on the inside,” said thewoman. “There is a blank left for the surname; and then followsthe date; which is within a year before the child was born. I foundout that.”“And this is all?” said Monks, after a close and eager scrutiny ofthe contents of the little packet.“All,” replied the woman.Mr. Bumble drew a long breath, as if he were glad to find thatthe story was over, and no mention made of taking the five-and-Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 402twenty pounds back again; and now he took courage to wipe offthe perspiration which had been trickling over his nose,unchecked, during the whole of the previous dialogue.“I know nothing of the story, beyond what I can guess at,” saidhis wife, addressing Monks, after a short silence; “and I want toknow nothing; for it’s safer not. But I may ask you two questions,may I?”“You may ask,” said Monks, with some show of surprise; “butwhether I answer or not is another question.”“Which makes three,” observed Mr. Bumble, essaying a strokeof facetiousness.“Is that what you expected to get from me?” demanded thematron “It is,” replied Monks. “The other question?”“What do you propose to do with it? Can it be used againstme?”“Never,” rejoined Monks; “nor against me either. See here! Butdon’t move a step forward, or your life is not worth a bulrush.”With these words, he suddenly wheeled the table aside, andpulling an iron ring in the boarding, threw back a large trapdoorwhich opened close at Mr. Bumble’s feet, and caused thatgentleman to retire several paces backward, with greatprecipitation.“Look down,” said Monks, lowering the lantern into the gulf.“Don’t fear me. I could have let you down, quietly enough, whenyou were seated over it, if that had been my game.”Thus encouraged, the matron drew near to the brink; and evenMr. Bumble himself, impelled by curiosity, ventured to do thesame. The turbid water, swollen by the heavy rain, was rushingrapidly on below; and all other sounds were lost in the noise of itsCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 403plashing and eddying against the green and slimy piles. There hadonce been a water-mill beneath; the tide foaming and chafinground the few rotten stakes, and fragments of machinery that yetremained, seemed to dart onward, with a new impulse, when freedfrom the obstacles which had unavailingly attempted to stem itsheadlong course.“If you flung a man’s body down there, where would it be bytomorrow morning?” said Monks, swinging the lantern to and froin the dark well.“Twelve miles down the river, and cut to pieces besides,”replied Bumble, recoiling at the thought.Monks drew the little packet from his breast, where he hadhurriedly thrust it; and tying it to a leaden weight, which hadformed a part of some pulley, and was lying on the floor, droppedit into the stream. It fell straight, and true as a die; clove the waterwith a scarcely audible splash; and was gone.The three, looking into each other’s faces, seemed to breathemore freely.“There!” said Monks, closing the trap-door, which fell heavilyback into its former position. “If the sea ever gives up its dead, asbooks say it will, it will keep its gold and silver to itself, and thattrash among it. We have nothing more to say, and may break upour pleasant party.”“By all means,” observed Mr. Bumble, with great alacrity.“You’ll keep a quiet tongue in your head, will you?” saidMonks, with a threatening look. “I am not afraid of your wife.”“You may depend upon me, young man,” answered Mr.Bumble, bowing himself gradually towards the ladder, withexcessive politeness. “On everybody’s account, young man; on myCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 404own, you know, Mr. Monks.”“I am glad, for your sake, to hear it,” remarked Monks. “Lightyour lantern! And get away from here as fast as you can.”It was fortunate that the conversation terminated at this point,or Mr. Bumble, who had bowed himself to within six inches of theladder, would infallibly have pitched headlong into the roombelow. He lighted his lantern from that which Monks haddetached the rope, and now carried in his hand; and, making noeffort to prolong the discourse, descended in silence, followed byhis wife. Monks brought up the rear, after pausing on the steps tosatisfy himself that there were no other sounds to be heard thanthe beating of the rain without, and the rushing of the water.They traversed the lower room, slowly, and with caution; forMonks started at every shadow; and Mr. Bumble, holding hislantern a foot above the ground, walked not only with remarkablecare, but with a marvellously light step for a gentleman of hisfigure, looking nervously about him for hidden trap-doors. Thegate at which they had entered, was softly unfastened and openedby Monks; and, merely exchanging a nod with their mysteriousacquaintance, the married couple emerged into the wet anddarkness outside.They were no sooner gone, than Monks, who appeared toentertain an invincible repugnance to being left alone, called to aboy who had been hidden somewhere below. Bidding him go first,and bear the light, he returned to the chamber he had just quitted.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 405Chapter 39Introduces Some Respectable Characters WithWhom The Reader Is Already Acquainted, AndShows How Monks And The Jew Laid Their WorthyHeads TogetherO n the evening following that upon which the threeworthies mentioned in the last chapter, disposed of theirlittle matter of business as therein narrated, Mr. WilliamSikes, awakening from a nap, drowsily growled forth an inquirywhat time of night it was.The room in which Mr. Sikes propounded this question, wasnot one of those he had tenanted, previous to the Chertseyexpedition, although it was in the same quarter of the town, andwas situated at no great distance from his former lodgings. It wasnot, in appearance, so desirable a habitation as his old quarters,being a mean and badly-furnished apartment, of very limited size;lighted only by one small window in the shelving roof, andabutting on a close and dirty lane. Nor were there wanting otherindications of the good gentleman’s having gone down in theworld of late; for a great scarcity of furniture and total absence ofcomfort, together with the disappearance of all such smallmovables as spare clothes and linen, bespoke a state of extremepoverty; while the meagre and attenuated condition of Mr. Sikeshimself would have fully confirmed these symptoms, if they hadstood in any need of corroboration.The housebreaker was lying on the bed, wrapped in his white