MISSION
The old man was up, betimes, next morning, and waited impatiently
for the appearance of his new associate, who after a delay that
seemed interminable, at length presented himself, and commenced a
voracious assault on the breakfast.
‘Bolter,’ said Fagin, drawing up a chair and seating himself
opposite Morris Bolter.
‘Well, here I am,’ returned Noah. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t yer ask
me to do anything till I have done eating. That’s a great fault in
this place. Yer never get time enough over yer meals.’
‘You can talk as you eat, can’t you?’ said Fagin, cursing his dear
young friend’s greediness from the very bottom of his heart.
‘Oh yes, I can talk. I get on better when I talk,’ said Noah,
cutting a monstrous slice of bread. ‘Where’s Charlotte?’
‘Out,’ said Fagin. ‘I sent her out this morning with the other young
woman, because I wanted us to be alone.’
‘Oh!’ said Noah. ‘I wish yer’d ordered her to make some buttered
toast first. Well. Talk away. Yer won’t interrupt me.’
There seemed, indeed, no great fear of anything interrupting him, as
he had evidently sat down with a determination to do a great deal of
business.
‘You did well yesterday, my dear,’ said Fagin. ‘Beautiful! Six
shillings and ninepence halfpenny on the very first day! The kinchin
lay will be a fortune to you.’
‘Don’t you forget to add three pint-pots and a milk-can,’ said Mr.
Bolter.
‘No, no, my dear. The pint-pots were great strokes of genius: but
the milk-can was a perfect masterpiece.’
‘Pretty well, I think, for a beginner,’ remarked Mr. Bolter
complacently. ‘The pots I took off airy railings, and the milk-can
was standing by itself outside a public-house. I thought it might
get rusty with the rain, or catch cold, yer know. Eh? Ha! ha! ha!’
Fagin affected to laugh very heartily; and Mr. Bolter having had his
laugh out, took a series of large bites, which finished his first
hunk of bread and butter, and assisted himself to a second.
‘I want you, Bolter,’ said Fagin, leaning over the table, ‘to do a
piece of work for me, my dear, that needs great care and caution.’
‘I say,’ rejoined Bolter, ‘don’t yer go shoving me into danger, or
sending me any more o’ yer police-offices. That don’t suit me, that
don’t; and so I tell yer.’
‘That’s not the smallest danger in it--not the very smallest,’ said
the Jew; ‘it’s only to dodge a woman.’
‘An old woman?’ demanded Mr. Bolter.
‘A young one,’ replied Fagin.
‘I can do that pretty well, I know,’ said Bolter. ‘I was a regular
cunning sneak when I was at school. What am I to dodge her for? Not
to--’
‘Not to do anything, but to tell me where she goes, who she sees,
and, if possible, what she says; to remember the street, if it is a
street, or the house, if it is a house; and to bring me back all the
information you can.’
‘What’ll yer give me?’ asked Noah, setting down his cup, and looking
his employer, eagerly, in the face.
‘If you do it well, a pound, my dear. One pound,’ said Fagin,
wishing to interest him in the scent as much as possible. ‘And
that’s what I never gave yet, for any job of work where there wasn’t
valuable consideration to be gained.’
‘Who is she?’ inquired Noah.
‘One of us.’
‘Oh Lor!’ cried Noah, curling up his nose. ‘Yer doubtful of her, are
yer?’
‘She has found out some new friends, my dear, and I must know who
they are,’ replied Fagin.
‘I see,’ said Noah. ‘Just to have the pleasure of knowing them, if
they’re respectable people, eh? Ha! ha! ha! I’m your man.’
‘I knew you would be,’ cried Fagin, elated by the success of his
proposal.
‘Of course, of course,’ replied Noah. ‘Where is she? Where am I to
wait for her? Where am I to go?’
‘All that, my dear, you shall hear from me. I’ll point her out at
the proper time,’ said Fagin. ‘You keep ready, and leave the rest to
me.’
That night, and the next, and the next again, the spy sat booted
and equipped in his carter’s dress: ready to turn out at a word from
Fagin. Six nights passed--six long weary nights--and on each, Fagin
came home with a disappointed face, and briefly intimated that it
was not yet time. On the seventh, he returned earlier, and with an
exultation he could not conceal. It was Sunday.
‘She goes abroad to-night,’ said Fagin, ‘and on the right errand,
I’m sure; for she has been alone all day, and the man she is afraid
of will not be back much before daybreak. Come with me. Quick!’
Noah started up without saying a word; for the Jew was in a state
of such intense excitement that it infected him. They left the house
stealthily, and hurrying through a labyrinth of streets, arrived at
length before a public-house, which Noah recognised as the same in
which he had slept, on the night of his arrival in London.
It was past eleven o’clock, and the door was closed. It opened
softly on its hinges as Fagin gave a low whistle. They entered,
without noise; and the door was closed behind them.
Scarcely venturing to whisper, but substituting dumb show for words,
Fagin, and the young Jew who had admitted them, pointed out the
pane of glass to Noah, and signed to him to climb up and observe the
person in the adjoining room.
‘Is that the woman?’ he asked, scarcely above his breath.
Fagin nodded yes.
‘I can’t see her face well,’ whispered Noah. ‘She is looking down,
and the candle is behind her.
‘Stay there,’ whispered Fagin. He signed to Barney, who withdrew. In
an instant, the lad entered the room adjoining, and, under pretence
of snuffing the candle, moved it in the required position, and,
speaking to the girl, caused her to raise her face.
‘I see her now,’ cried the spy.
‘Plainly?’
‘I should know her among a thousand.’
He hastily descended, as the room-door opened, and the girl came
out. Fagin drew him behind a small partition which was curtained
off, and they held their breaths as she passed within a few feet of
their place of concealment, and emerged by the door at which they
had entered.
‘Hist!’ cried the lad who held the door. ‘Dow.’
Noah exchanged a look with Fagin, and darted out.
‘To the left,’ whispered the lad; ‘take the left had, and keep od
the other side.’
He did so; and, by the light of the lamps, saw the girl’s retreating
figure, already at some distance before him. He advanced as near as
he considered prudent, and kept on the opposite side of the street,
the better to observe her motions. She looked nervously round, twice
or thrice, and once stopped to let two men who were following close
behind her, pass on. She seemed to gather courage as she advanced,
and to walk with a steadier and firmer step. The spy preserved the
same relative distance between them, and followed: with his eye upon
her.