Oliver Twist
NOAH CLAYPOLE IS EMPLOYED BY FAGIN ON A SECRET MISSION
The old man was up, betimes, next morning, and waited for the of his new associate, who after a that interminable, at length presented himself, and a on the breakfast.
“Bolter,” said Fagin, up a chair and seating himself opposite Morris Bolter.
“Well, here I am,” returned Noah. “What’s the matter? Don’t ask me to do anything till I have done eating. That’s a great fault in this place. Yer time over meals.”
“You can talk as you eat, can’t you?” said Fagin, his dear friend’s from the very of his heart.
“Oh yes, I can talk. I on when I talk,” said Noah, a slice of bread. “Where’s Charlotte?”
“Out,” said Fagin. “I sent her out this with the other woman, I wanted us to be alone.”
“Oh!” said Noah. “I wish yer’d ordered her to make some toast first. Well. Talk away. Yer won’t me.”
There seemed, indeed, no great of anything him, as he had sat with a to do a great of business.
“You did well yesterday, my dear,” said Fagin. “Beautiful! Six and on the very day! The will be a to you.”
“Don’t you to add three pint-pots and a milk-can,” said Mr. Bolter.
“No, no, my dear. The pint-pots were great of genius: but the milk-can was a perfect masterpiece.”
“Pretty well, I think, for a beginner,” Mr. Bolter complacently. “The I took off railings, and the milk-can was by itself a public-house. I it might with the rain, or catch cold, know. Eh? Ha! ha! ha!”
Fagin to laugh very heartily; and Mr. Bolter having had his laugh out, took a series of large bites, which his of and butter, and himself to a second.
“I want you, Bolter,” said Fagin, over the table, “to do a piece of work for me, my dear, that needs great and caution.”
“I say,” Bolter, “don’t go me into danger, or sending me any more o’ police-offices. That don’t me, that don’t; and so I tell yer.”
“That’s not the smallest in it—not the very smallest,” said the Jew; “it’s only to a woman.”
“An old woman?” Mr. Bolter.
“A one,” Fagin.
“I can do that well, I know,” said Bolter. “I was a regular when I was at school. What am I to 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 the street, if it is a street, or the house, if it is a house; and to me all the you can.”
“What’ll give me?” asked Noah, setting his cup, and looking his employer, eagerly, in the face.
“If you do it well, a pound, my dear. One pound,” said Fagin, to him in the as much as possible. “And that’s what I gave yet, for any job of work where there wasn’t valuable to be gained.”
“Who is she?” Noah.
“One of us.”
“Oh Lor!” Noah, up his nose. “Yer of her, are yer?”
“She has out some new friends, my dear, and I must know who they are,” Fagin.
“I see,” said Noah. “Just to have the of them, if they’re people, eh? Ha! ha! ha! I’m your man.”
“I you would be,” Fagin, by the success of his proposal.
“Of course, of course,” Noah. “Where is she? Where am I to wait for her? Where am I to go?”
“All that, my dear, you shall from me. I’ll point her out at the proper time,” said Fagin. “You keep ready, and the to me.”
That night, and the next, and the next again, the sat and in his carter’s dress: to turn out at a word from Fagin. Six nights passed—six long nights—and on each, Fagin came home with a face, and that it was not yet time. On the seventh, he returned earlier, and with an he not conceal. It was Sunday.
“She goes to-night,” said Fagin, “and on the right errand, I’m sure; for she has been alone all day, and the man she is of will not be much daybreak. Come with me. Quick!”
Noah started up without saying a word; for the Jew was in a of such that it him. They left the house stealthily, and through a of streets, at length a public-house, which Noah as the same in which he had slept, on the night of his in London.
It was past eleven o’clock, and the door was closed. It opened on its as Fagin gave a low whistle. They entered, without noise; and the door was closed them.
Scarcely to whisper, but for words, Fagin, and the Jew who had them, pointed out the of to Noah, and to him to climb up and the person in the room.
“Is that the woman?” he asked, above his breath.
Fagin yes.
“I can’t see her well,” Noah. “She is looking down, and the is her.
“Stay there,” Fagin. He to Barney, who withdrew. In an instant, the entered the room adjoining, and, under of the candle, moved it in the position, and, speaking to the girl, her to her face.
“I see her now,” the spy.
“Plainly?”
“I should know her among a thousand.”
He descended, as the room-door opened, and the girl came out. Fagin him a small partition which was off, and they their as she passed a of their place of concealment, and by the door at which they had entered.
“Hist!” the who the door. “Dow.”
Noah a look with Fagin, and out.
“To the left,” 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 figure, already at some him. He as near as he prudent, and on the opposite of the street, the to her motions. She looked round, twice or thrice, and once stopped to let two men who were close her, pass on. She to as she advanced, and to walk with a and step. The the same relative them, and followed: with his upon her.
