Oliver Twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-46

inquired Fagin, shrugging his shoulders. “Here! Let me have aword with you outside.”“There’s no occasion to trouble ourselves to move,” said Noah,getting his legs by gradual degrees abroad—again. “She’ll take theluggage upstairs the while. Charlotte, see to them bundles!”This mandate, which had been delivered with great majesty,was obeyed without the slightest demur; and Charlotte made thebest of her way off with the packages while Noah held the dooropen and watched her out.“She’s kept tolerably well under, ain’t she?” he asked, as heresumed his seat, in the tone of a keeper who has tamed some wildanimal.“Quite perfect,” rejoined Fagin, clapping him on the shoulder.“You’re a genius, my dear.”“Why, I suppose if I wasn’t, I shouldn’t be here,” replied Noah.“But, I say, she’ll be back if yer lose time.”“Now, what do you think?” said Fagin. “If you was to like myCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 456friend, could you do better than join him?”“Is he in a good way of business; that’s where it is!” respondedNoah, winking one of his little eyes.“The top of the tree,” said Fagin; “employs a power of hands;has the very best society in the profession.”“Regular town-maders?” asked Mr. Claypole.“Not a countryman among ’em; and I don’t think he’d take you,even on my recommendation, if he didn’t run rather short ofassistants just now,” replied Fagin.“Should I have to hand over?” said Noah, slapping his breechespocket.“It couldn’t possibly be done without,” replied Fagin, in a mostdecided manner.“Twenty pound, though—it’s a lot of money!”“Not when it’s in a note you can’t get rid of,” retorted Fagin.“Number and date taken, I suppose! Payment stopped at thebank? Ah! It’s not worth much to him. It’ll have to go abroad, andhe couldn’t sell it for a great deal in the market.”“When could I see him?” asked Noah doubtfully.“Tomorrow morning.”“Where?”“Here.”“Um!” said Noah. “What’s the wages?”“Live like a gentleman—board and lodging, pipes and spiritsfree—half of all you earn, and half of all the young woman earns,”replied Mr. Fagin.Whether Noah Claypole, whose rapacity was none of the leastcomprehensive, would have acceded even to these glowing terms,had he been a perfectly free agent, is very doubtful; but as heCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 457recollected that, in the event of his refusal it was in the power ofhis new acquaintance to give him up to justice immediately (andmore unlikely things had come to pass), he gradually relented, andsaid he thought that would suit him.“But, yer see,” observed Noah, “as she will be able to do a gooddeal, I should like to take something very light.”“A little fancy work?” suggested Fagin.“Ah! something of that sort,” replied Noah. “What do you thinkwould suit me now? Something not too trying for the strength, andnot very dangerous, you know. That’s the sort of thing!”“I heard you talk of something in the spy way upon the others,my dear,” said Fagin. “My friend wants somebody who would dothat well, very much.”“Why, I did mention that, and I shouldn’t mind turning myhand to it sometimes,” rejoined Mr. Claypole slowly; “but itwouldn’t pay by itself, you know.”“That’s true!” observed the Jew, ruminating or pretending toruminate. “No, it might not.”“What do you think, then?” asked Noah, anxiously regardinghim. “Something in the sneaking way, where it was pretty surework, and not much more risk than being at home.”“What do you think of the old ladies?” asked Fagin. “There’s agood deal of money made in snatching their bags and parcels, andrunning round the corner.”“Don’t they holler out a good deal, and scratch sometimes?”asked Noah, shaking his head. “I don’t think that would answermy purpose. Ain’t there any other line open?”“Stop!” said Fagin, laying his hand on Noah’s knee. “Thekinchin lay.”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 458“What’s that?” demanded Mr. Claypole.“The kinchins, my dear,” said Fagin, “is the young childrenthat’s sent on errands by their mothers, with sixpences andshillings; and the lay is just to take their money away—they’vealways got it ready in their hands—then knock ’em into a kennel,and walk off very slow, as if there were nothing else the matter buta child fallen down and hurt itself. Ha! ha! ha!”“Ha! ha!” roared Mr. Claypole, kicking up his legs in an ecstasy.“Lord, that’s the very thing!”“To be sure it is,” replied Fagin; “and you can have a few goodbeats chalked out in Camden Town, and Battle Bridge, andneighbourhoods like that, where they’re always going errands; andyou can upset as many kinchins as you want, any hour in the day.Ha! ha! ha!”With this, Fagin poked Mr. Claypole in the side, and they joinedin a burst of laughter both long and loud.“Well, that’s all right!” said Noah, when he had recoveredhimself, and Charlotte had returned. “What time tomorrow shallwe say?”“Will ten do?” asked Fagin, adding, as Mr. Claypole noddedassent, “What name shall I tell my good friend?”“Mr. Bolter,” replied Noah, who had prepared himself for suchan emergency. “Mr. Morris Bolter. This is Mrs. Bolter.”“Mrs. Bolter’s humble servant,” said Fagin, bowing withgrotesque politeness. “I hope I shall know her better very shortly.”“Do you hear the gentleman, Charlotte?” thundered Mr.Claypole.“Yes, Noah, dear!” replied Mrs. Bolter, extending her hand.“She calls me Noah, as a sort of fond way of talking,” said Mr.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 459Morris Bolter, late Claypole, turning to Fagin. “You understand?”“Oh, yes, I understand—perfectly,” replied Fagin, telling thetruth for once. “Good-night! Good-night!”With many adieus and good wishes, Mr. Fagin went his way.Noah Claypole, bespeaking his good lady’s attention, proceeded toenlighten her relative to the arrangement he had made, with allthat haughtiness and air of superiority, becoming, not only amember of the sterner sex, but a gentleman who appreciated thedignity of a special appointment on the kinchin lay, in London andits vicinity.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 460Chapter 43Wherein Is Shown How The Artful Dodger Got IntoTrouble.“A nd so it was you that was your own friend, wasit?” asked Mr. Claypole, otherwise Bolter, when,by virtue of the compact entered into betweenthem, he had removed next day to Fagin’s house. “’Cod, I thoughtas much last night!”“Every man’s his own friend, my dear,” replied Fagin, with hismost insinuating grin. “He hasn’t as good a one as himselfanywhere.”“Except sometimes,” replied Morris Bolter, assuming the air ofa man of the world. “Some people are nobody’s enemies but theirown, yer know.”“Don’t believe that,” said Fagin. “When a man’s his own enemy,it’s only because he’s too much his own friend; not because he’scareful for everybody but himself. Pooh! pooh! There ain’t such athing in nature.”“There oughtn’t to be, if there is,” replied Mr. Bolter.“That stands to reason,” said Fagin. “Some conjurers say thatnumber three is the magic number, and some say number seven.It’s neither, my friend, neither. It’s number one.”“Ha! ha!” cried Mr. Bolter. “Number one for ever.”“In a little community like ours, my dear,” said Fagin, who feltit necessary to qualify his position, “we have a general numberone; that is, you can’t consider yourself as number one, withoutCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 461considering me too as the same, and all the other young people.”“Oh, the devil!” exclaimed Mr. Bolter.“You see,” pursued Fagin, affecting to disregard thisinterruption, awe are so mixed up together, and identified in ourinterests, that it must be so. For instance, it’s your object to takecare of number one—meaning yourself.”“Certainly,” replied Mr. Bolter. “Yer about right there.”“Well! You can’t take care of yourself, number one, withouttaking care of me, number one.”“Number two, you mean,” said Mr. Bolter, who was largelyendowed with the quality of selfishness.“No, I don’t!” retorted Fagin. “I’m of the same importance toyou, as you are to yourself.”“I say,” interrupted Mr. Bolter, “yer a very nice man, and I’mvery fond of yer; but we ain’t quite so thick together, as all thatcomes to.”“Only think,” said Fagin, shrugging his shoulders, andstretching out his hands; “only consider. You’ve done what’s avery pretty thing, and what I love you for doing; but what at thesame time would put the cravat round your throat, that’s so veryeasily tied and so very difficult to unloose—in plain English, thehalter!”Mr. Bolter put his hand to his neckerchief, as if he felt itinconveniently tight; and murmured an assent, qualified in tonebut not in substance.“The gallows,” continued Fagin—“the gallows, my dear, is anugly finger-post, which points out a very short and sharp turningthat has stopped many a bold fellow’s career on the broadhighway. To keep in the easy road, and keep it at a distance, isCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 462object number one with you.”“Of course it is,” replied Mr. Bolter. “What do yer talk aboutsuch things for?”“Only to show you my meaning clearly,” said the Jew, raisinghis eyebrows. “To be able to do that, you depend upon me. Tokeep my little business all snug, I depend upon you. The first isyour number one, the second my number one. The more you valueyour number one, the more careful you must be of mine; so wecome at last to what I told you at first—that a regard for numberone holds us all together, and must do so, unless we would all go topieces in company.”“That’s true,” rejoined Mr. Bolter thoughtfully. “Oh! yer acunning old codger!”Mr. Fagin saw, with delight, that this tribute to his powers wasno mere compliment, but that he had really impressed his recruitwith a sense of his wily genius, which it was most important thathe should entertain in the outset of their acquaintance. Tostrengthen an impression so desirable and useful, he followed upthe blow by acquainting him, in some detail, with the magnitudeand extent of his operations; blending truth and fiction together,as best served his purpose; and bringing both to bear, with somuch art, that Mr. Bolter’s respect visibly increased, and becametempered at the same time, with a degree of wholesome fear,which it was highly desirable to awaken.“It’s this mutual trust we have in each other that consoles meunder heavy losses,” said Fagin. “My best hand was taken fromme, yesterday morning.”“You don’t mean to say he died?” cried Mr. Bolter.“No, no,” replied Fagin, “not so bad as that. Not quite so bad.”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 463“What, I suppose he was—”“Wanted,” interposed Fagin. “Yes, he was wanted.”“Very particular?” inquired Mr. Bolter.“No,” replied Fagin, “not very. He was charged with attemptingto pick a pocket, and they found a silver snuff-box on him—hisown, my dear, his own, for he took snuff himself, and was veryfond of it. They remanded him till today, for they thought theyknew the owner. Ah! he was worth fifty boxes, and I’d give theprice of as many to have him back. You should have known theDodger, my dear; you should have known the Dodger.”“Well, but I shall know him, I hope; don’t yer think so?” saidMr. Bolter.“I’m doubtful about it,” replied Fagin, with a sigh. “If they don’tget any fresh evidence, it’ll only be a summary conviction, and weshall have him back again after six weeks or so; but, if they do, it’sa case of lagging. They know what a clever lad he is; he’ll be a lifer.They’ll make the Artful nothing less than a lifer.”“What do yer mean by lagging and a lifer?” demanded Mr.Bolter. “What’s the good of talking in that way to me; why don’tyer speak so as I can understand yer?”Fagin was about to translate these mysterious expressions intothe vulgar tongue; and, being interpreted, Mr. Bolter would havebeen informed that they represented that combination of words,“transportation for life,” when the dialogue was cut short by theentry of Master Bates, with his hands in his breeches pockets, andhis face twisted into a look of semi-comical woe.“It’s all up, Fagin,” said Charley, when he and his newcompanion had been made known to each other.“What do you mean?”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsOliver Twist 464“They’ve found the gentleman as owns the box; two or threemore’s a-coming to ’dentify him; and the Artful’s booked for apassage out,” replied Master Bates. “I must have a full suit ofmourning, Fagin, and a hatband, to wisit him in, afore he sets outupon his travels. To think of Jack Dawkins—lummy Jack—theDodger—the Artful Dodger—going abroad for a commontwopenny-halfpenny sneeze-box! I never thought he’d a done itunder a gold watch, chain, and seals, at the lowest. Oh, why didn’the rob some rich old gentleman of all his walables, and go out as agentleman, and not like a common prig, without no honour norglory!”With this expression of feeling for his unfortunate friend,Master Bates sat himself on the nearest chair with an aspect ofchagrin and despondency.“What do you talk about his having neither honour nor gloryfor!” exclaimed Fagin, darting an angry look at his pupil. “Wasn’the always top-sawyer among you all! Is there one of you that couldtouch him or come near him on any scent! Eh?”“Not one,” replied Master Bates, in a voice rendered husky byregret; “not one.”“Then what do you talk of?” replied Fagin angrily; “what areyou blubbering for?”“‘Cause it isn’t on the record, is it?” said Charley, chafed intoperfect defiance of his venerable friend by the current of hisregrets; “’cause it can’t come out in the ’dictment; ’cause nobodywill never know half of what he was. How will be stand in theNewgate Calendar? P’r’aps not be there at all. Oh, my eye, my eye,wot a blow it is!”“Ha! ha!” cried Fagin, extending his right hand, and turning toCharles Dickens ElecBook Classics