CHAPTER XLIV -- THE TIME ARRIVES FOR NANCY TO REDEEM HER PLEDGE TO

ROSE MAYLIE. SHE FAILS.

Adept as she was, in all the arts of cunning and dissimulation, the

girl Nancy could not wholly conceal the effect which the knowledge

of the step she had taken, wrought upon her mind. She remembered

that both the crafty Jew and the brutal Sikes had confided to

her schemes, which had been hidden from all others: in the full

confidence that she was trustworthy and beyond the reach of their

suspicion. Vile as those schemes were, desperate as were their

originators, and bitter as were her feelings towards Fagin, who had

led her, step by step, deeper and deeper down into an abyss of crime

and misery, whence was no escape; still, there were times when, even

towards him, she felt some relenting, lest her disclosure should

bring him within the iron grasp he had so long eluded, and he should

fall at last--richly as he merited such a fate--by her hand.

But, these were the mere wanderings of a mind unable wholly to

detach itself from old companions and associations, though enabled

to fix itself steadily on one object, and resolved not to be turned

aside by any consideration. Her fears for Sikes would have been more

powerful inducements to recoil while there was yet time; but she had

stipulated that her secret should be rigidly kept, she had dropped

no clue which could lead to his discovery, she had refused, even

for his sake, a refuge from all the guilt and wretchedness that

encompasses her--and what more could she do! She was resolved.

Though all her mental struggles terminated in this conclusion, they

forced themselves upon her, again and again, and left their traces

too. She grew pale and thin, even within a few days. At times,

she took no heed of what was passing before her, or no part in

conversations where once, she would have been the loudest. At other

times, she laughed without merriment, and was noisy without a moment

afterwards--she sat silent and dejected, brooding with her head upon

her hands, while the very effort by which she roused herself, told,

more forcibly than even these indications, that she was ill at ease,

and that her thoughts were occupied with matters very different and

distant from those in the course of discussion by her companions.

It was Sunday night, and the bell of the nearest church struck the

hour. Sikes and the Jew were talking, but they paused to listen. The

girl looked up from the low seat on which she crouched, and listened

too. Eleven.

‘An hour this side of midnight,’ said Sikes, raising the blind to

look out and returning to his seat. ‘Dark and heavy it is too. A

good night for business this.’

‘Ah!’ replied Fagin. ‘What a pity, Bill, my dear, that there’s none

quite ready to be done.’

‘You’re right for once,’ replied Sikes gruffly. ‘It is a pity, for

I’m in the humour too.’

Fagin sighed, and shook his head despondingly.

‘We must make up for lost time when we’ve got things into a good

train. That’s all I know,’ said Sikes.

‘That’s the way to talk, my dear,’ replied Fagin, venturing to pat

him on the shoulder. ‘It does me good to hear you.’

‘Does you good, does it!’ cried Sikes. ‘Well, so be it.’

‘Ha! ha! ha!’ laughed Fagin, as if he were relieved by even this

concession. ‘You’re like yourself to-night, Bill. Quite like

yourself.’

‘I don’t feel like myself when you lay that withered old claw on my

shoulder, so take it away,’ said Sikes, casting off the Jew’s hand.

‘It make you nervous, Bill,--reminds you of being nabbed, does it?’

said Fagin, determined not to be offended.

‘Reminds me of being nabbed by the devil,’ returned Sikes. ‘There

never was another man with such a face as yours, unless it was your

father, and I suppose _he_ is singeing his grizzled red beard by

this time, unless you came straight from the old ‘un without any

father at all betwixt you; which I shouldn’t wonder at, a bit.’

Fagin offered no reply to this compliment: but, pulling Sikes by the

sleeve, pointed his finger towards Nancy, who had taken advantage of

the foregoing conversation to put on her bonnet, and was now leaving

the room.

‘Hallo!’ cried Sikes. ‘Nance. Where’s the gal going to at this time

of night?’

‘Not far.’

‘What answer’s that?’ retorted Sikes. ‘Do you hear me?’

‘I don’t know where,’ replied the girl.

‘Then I do,’ said Sikes, more in the spirit of obstinacy than

because he had any real objection to the girl going where she

listed. ‘Nowhere. Sit down.’

‘I’m not well. I told you that before,’ rejoined the girl. ‘I want a

breath of air.’

‘Put your head out of the winder,’ replied Sikes.

‘There’s not enough there,’ said the girl. ‘I want it in the

street.’

‘Then you won’t have it,’ replied Sikes. With which assurance he

rose, locked the door, took the key out, and pulling her bonnet from

her head, flung it up to the top of an old press. ‘There,’ said the

robber. ‘Now stop quietly where you are, will you?’

‘It’s not such a matter as a bonnet would keep me,’ said the girl

turning very pale. ‘What do you mean, Bill? Do you know what you’re

doing?’

‘Know what I’m--Oh!’ cried Sikes, turning to Fagin, ‘she’s out of

her senses, you know, or she daren’t talk to me in that way.’

‘You’ll drive me on the something desperate,’ muttered the girl

placing both hands upon her breast, as though to keep down by force

some violent outbreak. ‘Let me go, will you,--this minute--this

instant.’

‘No!’ said Sikes.

‘Tell him to let me go, Fagin. He had better. It’ll be better for

him. Do you hear me?’ cried Nancy stamping her foot upon the ground.

‘Hear you!’ repeated Sikes turning round in his chair to confront

her. ‘Aye! And if I hear you for half a minute longer, the dog shall

have such a grip on your throat as’ll tear some of that screaming

voice out. Wot has come over you, you jade! Wot is it?’

‘Let me go,’ said the girl with great earnestness; then sitting

herself down on the floor, before the door, she said, ‘Bill, let me

go; you don’t know what you are doing. You don’t, indeed. For only

one hour--do--do!’

‘Cut my limbs off one by one!’ cried Sikes, seizing her roughly by

the arm, ‘If I don’t think the gal’s stark raving mad. Get up.’

‘Not till you let me go--not till you let me go--Never--never!’

screamed the girl. Sikes looked on, for a minute, watching

his opportunity, and suddenly pinioning her hands dragged her,

struggling and wrestling with him by the way, into a small room

adjoining, where he sat himself on a bench, and thrusting her into

a chair, held her down by force. She struggled and implored by turns

until twelve o’clock had struck, and then, wearied and exhausted,

ceased to contest the point any further. With a caution, backed by

many oaths, to make no more efforts to go out that night, Sikes left

her to recover at leisure and rejoined Fagin.

‘Whew!’ said the housebreaker wiping the perspiration from his face.

‘Wot a precious strange gal that is!’

‘You may say that, Bill,’ replied Fagin thoughtfully. ‘You may say

that.’

‘Wot did she take it into her head to go out to-night for, do you

think?’ asked Sikes. ‘Come; you should know her better than me. Wot

does it mean?’

‘Obstinacy; woman’s obstinacy, I suppose, my dear.’

‘Well, I suppose it is,’ growled Sikes. ‘I thought I had tamed her,

but she’s as bad as ever.’

‘Worse,’ said Fagin thoughtfully. ‘I never knew her like this, for

such a little cause.’

‘Nor I,’ said Sikes. ‘I think she’s got a touch of that fever in her

blood yet, and it won’t come out--eh?’

‘Like enough.’

‘I’ll let her a little blood, without troubling the doctor, if she’s

took that way again,’ said Sikes.

Fagin nodded an expressive approval of this mode of treatment.

‘She was hanging about me all day, and night too, when I was

stretched on my back; and you, like a blackhearted wolf as you are,

kept yourself aloof,’ said Sikes. ‘We was poor too, all the time,

and I think, one way or other, it’s worried and fretted her; and

that being shut up here so long has made her restless--eh?’

‘That’s it, my dear,’ replied the Jew in a whisper. ‘Hush!’

As he uttered these words, the girl herself appeared and resumed her

former seat. Her eyes were swollen and red; she rocked herself

to and fro; tossed her head; and, after a little time, burst out

laughing.

‘Why, now she’s on the other tack!’ exclaimed Sikes, turning a look

of excessive surprise on his companion.

Fagin nodded to him to take no further notice just then; and, in

a few minutes, the girl subsided into her accustomed demeanour.

Whispering Sikes that there was no fear of her relapsing, Fagin took

up his hat and bade him good-night. He paused when he reached the

room-door, and looking round, asked if somebody would light him down

the dark stairs.

‘Light him down,’ said Sikes, who was filling his pipe. ‘It’s a pity

he should break his neck himself, and disappoint the sight-seers.

Show him a light.’

Nancy followed the old man downstairs, with a candle. When they

reached the passage, he laid his finger on his lip, and drawing

close to the girl, said, in a whisper.

‘What is it, Nancy, dear?’

‘What do you mean?’ replied the girl, in the same tone.

‘The reason of all this,’ replied Fagin. ‘If _he_’--he pointed with

his skinny fore-finger up the stairs--‘is so hard with you (he’s a

brute, Nance, a brute-beast), why don’t you--’

‘Well?’ said the girl, as Fagin paused, with his mouth almost

touching her ear, and his eyes looking into hers.

‘No matter just now. We’ll talk of this again. You have a friend

in me, Nance; a staunch friend. I have the means at hand, quiet and

close. If you want revenge on those that treat you like a dog--like

a dog! worse than his dog, for he humours him sometimes--come to me.

I say, come to me. He is the mere hound of a day, but you know me of

old, Nance.’

‘I know you well,’ replied the girl, without manifesting the least

emotion. ‘Good-night.’

She shrank back, as Fagin offered to lay his hand on hers, but said

good-night again, in a steady voice, and, answering his parting look

with a nod of intelligence, closed the door between them.

Fagin walked towards his home, intent upon the thoughts that were

working within his brain. He had conceived the idea--not from what

had just passed though that had tended to confirm him, but slowly

and by degrees--that Nancy, wearied of the housebreaker’s brutality,

had conceived an attachment for some new friend. Her altered manner,

her repeated absences from home alone, her comparative indifference

to the interests of the gang for which she had once been so zealous,

and, added to these, her desperate impatience to leave home that

night at a particular hour, all favoured the supposition, and

rendered it, to him at least, almost matter of certainty. The

object of this new liking was not among his myrmidons. He would be a

valuable acquisition with such an assistant as Nancy, and must (thus

Fagin argued) be secured without delay.

There was another, and a darker object, to be gained. Sikes knew too

much, and his ruffian taunts had not galled Fagin the less, because

the wounds were hidden. The girl must know, well, that if she shook

him off, she could never be safe from his fury, and that it would

be surely wreaked--to the maiming of limbs, or perhaps the loss of

life--on the object of her more recent fancy.

‘With a little persuasion,’ thought Fagin, ‘what more likely than

that she would consent to poison him? Women have done such things,

and worse, to secure the same object before now. There would be

the dangerous villain: the man I hate: gone; another secured in

his place; and my influence over the girl, with a knowledge of this

crime to back it, unlimited.’

These things passed through the mind of Fagin, during the short time

he sat alone, in the housebreaker’s room; and with them uppermost in

his thoughts, he had taken the opportunity afterwards afforded him,

of sounding the girl in the broken hints he threw out at parting.

There was no expression of surprise, no assumption of an inability

to understand his meaning. The girl clearly comprehended it. Her

glance at parting showed _that_.

But perhaps she would recoil from a plot to take the life of Sikes,

and that was one of the chief ends to be attained. ‘How,’ thought

Fagin, as he crept homeward, ‘can I increase my influence with her?

What new power can I acquire?’

Such brains are fertile in expedients. If, without extracting a

confession from herself, he laid a watch, discovered the object of

her altered regard, and threatened to reveal the whole history to

Sikes (of whom she stood in no common fear) unless she entered into

his designs, could he not secure her compliance?

‘I can,’ said Fagin, almost aloud. ‘She durst not refuse me then.

Not for her life, not for her life! I have it all. The means are

ready, and shall be set to work. I shall have you yet!’

He cast back a dark look, and a threatening motion of the hand,

towards the spot where he had left the bolder villain; and went

on his way: busying his bony hands in the folds of his tattered

garment, which he wrenched tightly in his grasp, as though there

were a hated enemy crushed with every motion of his fingers.

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