“Why, we can’t afford to do that just now, my dear,” replied the Jew, smiling; “and, besides,that sort of thing is not in our way; or,one of these days, I might be glad to have it done.I know what these girls are, Monks, well.As soon as the boy begins to harden,she’ll care no more for him, than for a block of wood.You want him made a thief. If he is alive,I can make him one from this time; and,if—if—” said the Jew, drawing nearer to the other,—“it’s not likely, mind,—but if the worst comes to the worst, and he is dead—”
“It’s no fault of mine if he is!” interposed the other man, with a look of terror,and clasping the Jew’s arm with trembling hands. “Mind that. Fagin!I had no hand in it. Anything but his death,I told you from the first. I won’t shed blood;it’s always found out, and haunts a man besides.If they shot him dead, I was not the cause; do you hear me?Fire this infernal den!What’s that?”
“What!” cried the Jew, grasping the coward round the body,with both arms, as he sprung to his feet. “Where?”
“Yonder!” replied the man, glaring at the opposite wall. “The shadow!I saw the shadow of a woman, in a cloak and bonnet,pass along the wainscot like a breath!”
The Jew released his hold,and they rushed tumultuously from the room. The candle,wasted by the draught,was standing where it had been placed.It showed them only the empty staircase,and their own white faces. They listened intently:a profound silence reigned throughout the house.
“It’s your fancy,” said the Jew,taking up the light and turning to his companion.
“I’ll swear I saw it!” replied Monks, trembling.“It was bending forward when I saw it first;and when I spoke, it darted away.”
The Jew glanced contemptuously at the pale face of his associate,and, telling him he could follow, if he pleased,ascended the stairs. They looked into all the rooms;they were cold, bare, and empty.They descended into the passage,and thence into the cellars below.The green damp hung upon the low walls;the tracks of the snail and slug glistened in the light of the candle;but all was still as death.
“What do you think now?” said the Jew, when they had regained the passage.“Besides ourselves,there’s not a creature in the house except Toby and the boys;and they’re safe enough. See here!”
As a proof of the fact,the Jew drew forth two keys from his pocket;and explained, that when he first went downstairs,he had locked them in,to prevent any intrusion on the conference.
This accumulated testimony effectually staggered Mr.Monks. His protestations had gradually become less and less vehement as they proceeded in their search without making any discovery; and, now, he gave vent to several very grim laughs, and confessed it could only have been his excited imagination. He declined any renewal of the conversation, however, for that night: suddenly remembering that it was past one o’clock. And so the amiable couple parted.
CHAPTER XXVII. ATONES FOR THE UNPOLITENESS OF A FORMER CHAPTER;WHICH DESERTED A LADY, MOST UNCEREMONIOUSLY
As it would be, by no means,seemly in a humble author to keep so mighty a personage as a beadle waiting,with his back to the fire,and the skirts of his coat gathered up under his arms,until such time as it might suit his pleasure to relieve him;and as it would still less become his station,or his gallantry to involve in the same neglect a lady on whom that beadle had looked with an eye of tenderness and affection, and in whose ear he had whispered sweet words, which, coming from such a quarter, might well thrill the bosom of maid or matron of whatsoever degree; the historian whose pen traces these words—trusting that he knows his place, and that he entertains a becoming reverence for those upon earth to whom high and important authority is delegated—hastens to pay them that respect which their position demands, and to treat them with all that duteous ceremony which their exalted rank, and (by consequence) great virtues, imperatively claim at his hands. Towards this end, indeed, he had purposed to introduce, in this place, a dissertation touching the divine right of beadles, and elucidative of the position, that a beadle can do no wrong: which could not fail to have been both pleasurable and profitable to the right-minded reader but which he is unfortunately compelled, by want of time and space, to postpone to some more convenient and fitting opportunity; on the arrival of which, he will be prepared to show, that a beadle properly constituted: that is to say, a parochial beadle, attached to a parochial workhouse, and attending in his official capacity the parochial church: is, in right and virtue of his office, possessed of all the excellences and best qualities of humanity; and that to none of those excellences, can mere companies’ beadles, or court-of-law beadles, or even chapel-of-ease beadles (save the last, and they in a very lowly and inferior degree), lay the remotest sustainable claim.
Mr. Bumble had re-counted the teaspoons,re-weighed the sugar-tongs,made a closer inspection of the milk-pot,and ascertained to a nicety the exact condition of the furniture,down to the very horse-hair seats of the chairs;and had repeated each process full half a dozen times;before he began to think that it was time for Mrs.Corney to return. Thinking begets thinking;as there were no sounds of Mrs. Corney’s approach,it occured to Mr. Bumble that it would be an innocent and virtuous way of spending the time, if he were further to allay his curiousity by a cursory glance at the interior of Mrs. Corney’s chest of drawers.
Having listened at the keyhole,to assure himself that nobody was approaching the chamber,Mr. Bumble, beginning at the bottom,proceeded to make himself acquainted with the contents of the three long drawers: which, being filled with various garments of good fashion and texture, carefully preserved between two layers of old newspapers, speckled with dried lavender: seemed to yield him exceeding satisfaction. Arriving, in course of time, at the right-hand corner drawer (in which was the key), and beholding therein a small padlocked box, which, being shaken, gave forth a pleasant sound, as of the chinking of coin, Mr. Bumble returned with a stately walk to the fireplace; and, resuming his old attitude, said, with a grave and determined air, “I’ll do it!” He followed up this remarkable declaration,by shaking his head in a waggish manner for ten minutes,as though he were remonstrating with himself for being such a pleasant dog;and then, he took a view of his legs in profile,with much seeming pleasure and interest.
He was still placidly engaged in this latter survey,when Mrs. Corney, hurrying into the room,threw herself, in a breathless state,on a chair by the fireside,and covering her eyes with one hand,placed the other over her heart, and gasped for breath.
“Mrs. Corney,” said Mr. Bumble,stooping over the matron, “what is this, ma’am?Has anything happened, ma’am?Pray answer me: I’m on—on—” Mr. Bumble, in his alarm,could not immediately think of the word “tenterhooks,” so he said “broken bottles.”
“Oh, Mr. Bumble!” cried the lady, “I have been so dreadfully put out!”
“Put out, ma’am!” exclaimed Mr. Bumble; “who has dared to—?I know!” said Mr. Bumble, checking himself,with native majesty, “this is them wicious paupers!”
“It’s dreadful to think of!” said the lady, shuddering.
“Then _don’t_ think of it, ma’am,” rejoined Mr. Bumble.
“I can’t help it,” whimpered the lady.
“Then take something, ma’am,” said Mr.Bumble soothingly. “A little of the wine?”