Chapter: 'Hallo!' cried a loud, hoarse voice, as soon as they set foot in the
passage.

'Don't make such a row,' said Sikes, bolting the door.  'Show a glim,
Toby.'

'Aha! my pal!' cried the same voice.  'A glim, Barney, a glim! Show the
gentleman in, Barney; wake up first, if convenient.'

The speaker appeared to throw a boot-jack, or some such article, at the
person he addressed, to rouse him from his slumbers:  for the noise of
a wooden body, falling violently, was heard; and then an indistinct
muttering, as of a man between sleep and awake.

'Do you hear?' cried the same voice.  'There's Bill Sikes in the
passage with nobody to do the civil to him; and you sleeping there, as
if you took laudanum with your meals, and nothing stronger.  Are you
any fresher now, or do you want the iron candlestick to wake you
thoroughly?'

A pair of slipshod feet shuffled, hastily, across the bare floor of the
room, as this interrogatory was put; and there issued, from a door on
the right hand; first, a feeble candle:  and next, the form of the same
individual who has been heretofore described as labouring under the
infirmity of speaking through his nose, and officiating as waiter at
the public-house on Saffron Hill.

'Bister Sikes!' exclaimed Barney, with real or counterfeit joy; 'cub
id, sir; cub id.'

'Here! you get on first,' said Sikes, putting Oliver in front of him.
'Quicker! or I shall tread upon your heels.'

Muttering a curse upon his tardiness, Sikes pushed Oliver before him;
and they entered a low dark room with a smoky fire, two or three broken
chairs, a table, and a very old couch:  on which, with his legs much
higher than his head, a man was reposing at full length, smoking a long
clay pipe.  He was dressed in a smartly-cut snuff-coloured coat, with
large brass buttons; an orange neckerchief; a coarse, staring,
shawl-pattern waistcoat; and drab breeches.  Mr. Crackit (for he it
was) had no very great quantity of hair, either upon his head or face;
but what he had, was of a reddish dye, and tortured into long corkscrew
curls, through which he occasionally thrust some very dirty fingers,
ornamented with large common rings.  He was a trifle above the middle
size, and apparently rather weak in the legs; but this circumstance by
no means detracted from his own admiration of his top-boots, which he
contemplated, in their elevated situation, with lively satisfaction.

'Bill, my boy!' said this figure, turning his head towards the door,
'I'm glad to see you.  I was almost afraid you'd given it up:  in which
case I should have made a personal wentur.  Hallo!'

Uttering this exclamation in a tone of great surprise, as his eyes
rested on Oliver, Mr. Toby Crackit brought himself into a sitting
posture, and demanded who that was.

'The boy.  Only the boy!' replied Sikes, drawing a chair towards the
fire.

'Wud of Bister Fagid's lads,' exclaimed Barney, with a grin.

'Fagin's, eh!' exclaimed Toby, looking at Oliver.  'Wot an inwalable
boy that'll make, for the old ladies' pockets in chapels!  His mug is a
fortin' to him.'

'There--there's enough of that,' interposed Sikes, impatiently; and
stooping over his recumbant friend, he whispered a few words in his
ear:  at which Mr. Crackit laughed immensely, and honoured Oliver with
a long stare of astonishment.

'Now,' said Sikes, as he resumed his seat, 'if you'll give us something
to eat and drink while we're waiting, you'll put some heart in us; or
in me, at all events.  Sit down by the fire, younker, and rest
yourself; for you'll have to go out with us again to-night, though not
very far off.'

Oliver looked at Sikes, in mute and timid wonder; and drawing a stool
to the fire, sat with his aching head upon his hands, scarecely knowing
where he was, or what was passing around him.

'Here,' said Toby, as the young Jew placed some fragments of food, and
a bottle upon the table,  'Success to the crack!'  He rose to honour
the toast; and, carefully depositing his empty pipe in a corner,
advanced to the table, filled a glass with spirits, and drank off its
contents.  Mr. Sikes did the same.

'A drain for the boy,' said Toby, half-filling a wine-glass. 'Down with
it, innocence.'

'Indeed,' said Oliver, looking piteously up into the man's face;
'indeed, I--'

'Down with it!' echoed Toby.  'Do you think I don't know what's good
for you?  Tell him to drink it, Bill.'

'He had better!' said Sikes clapping his hand upon his pocket. 'Burn my
body, if he isn't more trouble than a whole family of Dodgers.  Drink
it, you perwerse imp; drink it!'

Frightened by the menacing gestures of the two men, Oliver hastily
swallowed the contents of the glass, and immediately fell into a
violent fit of coughing:  which delighted Toby Crackit and Barney, and
even drew a smile from the surly Mr. Sikes.

This done, and Sikes having satisfied his appetite (Oliver could eat
nothing but a small crust of bread which they made him swallow), the
two men laid themselves down on chairs for a short nap.  Oliver
retained his stool by the fire; Barney wrapped in a blanket, stretched
himself on the floor:  close outside the fender.

They slept, or appeared to sleep, for some time; nobody stirring but
Barney, who rose once or twice to throw coals on the fire. Oliver fell
into a heavy doze:  imagining himself straying along the gloomy lanes,
or wandering about the dark churchyard, or retracing some one or other
of the scenes of the past day:  when he was roused by Toby Crackit
jumping up and declaring it was half-past one.

In an instant, the other two were on their legs, and all were actively
engaged in busy preparation.  Sikes and his companion enveloped their
necks and chins in large dark shawls, and drew on their great-coats;
Barney, opening a cupboard, brought forth several articles, which he
hastily crammed into the pockets.

'Barkers for me, Barney,' said Toby Crackit.

'Here they are,' replied Barney, producing a pair of pistols. 'You
loaded them yourself.'

'All right!' replied Toby, stowing them away.  'The persuaders?'

'I've got 'em,' replied Sikes.

'Crape, keys, centre-bits, darkies--nothing forgotten?' inquired Toby:
fastening a small crowbar to a loop inside the skirt of his coat.

'All right,' rejoined his companion.  'Bring them bits of timber,
Barney.  That's the time of day.'

With these words, he took a thick stick from Barney's hands, who,
having delivered another to Toby, busied himself in fastening on
Oliver's cape.

'Now then!' said Sikes, holding out his hand.

Oliver:  who was completely stupified by the unwonted exercise, and the
air, and the drink which had been forced upon him:  put his hand
mechanically into that which Sikes extended for the purpose.

'Take his other hand, Toby,' said Sikes.  'Look out, Barney.'

The man went to the door, and returned to announce that all was quiet.
The two robbers issued forth with Oliver between them. Barney, having
made all fast, rolled himself up as before, and was soon asleep again.

It was now intensely dark.  The fog was much heavier than it had been
in the early part of the night; and the atmosphere was so damp, that,
although no rain fell, Oliver's hair and eyebrows, within a few minutes
after leaving the house, had become stiff with the half-frozen moisture
that was floating about.  They crossed the bridge, and kept on towards
the lights which he had seen before.  They were at no great distance
off; and, as they walked pretty briskly, they soon arrived at Chertsey.

'Slap through the town,' whispered Sikes; 'there'll be nobody in the
way, to-night, to see us.'

Toby acquiesced; and they hurried through the main street of the little
town, which at that late hour was wholly deserted.  A dim light shone
at intervals from some bed-room window; and the hoarse barking of dogs
occasionally broke the silence of the night.  But there was nobody
abroad.  They had cleared the town, as the church-bell struck two.

Quickening their pace, they turned up a road upon the left hand. After
walking about a quarter of a mile, they stopped before a detached house
surrounded by a wall:  to the top of which, Toby Crackit, scarcely
pausing to take breath, climbed in a twinkling.

'The boy next,' said Toby.  'Hoist him up; I'll catch hold of him.'

Before Oliver had time to look round, Sikes had caught him under the
arms; and in three or four seconds he and Toby were lying on the grass
on the other side.  Sikes followed directly.  And they stole cautiously
towards the house.

And now, for the first time, Oliver, well-nigh mad with grief and
terror, saw that housebreaking and robbery, if not murder, were the
objects of the expedition.  He clasped his hands together, and
involuntarily uttered a subdued exclamation of horror.  A mist came
before his eyes; the cold sweat stood upon his ashy face; his limbs
failed him; and he sank upon his knees.

'Get up!' murmured Sikes, trembling with rage, and drawing the pistol
from his pocket; 'Get up, or I'll strew your brains upon the grass.'

'Oh! for God's sake let me go!' cried Oliver; 'let me run away and die
in the fields.  I will never come near London; never, never!  Oh! pray
have mercy on me, and do not make me steal.  For the love of all the
bright Angels that rest in Heaven, have mercy upon me!'

The man to whom this appeal was made, swore a dreadful oath, and had
cocked the pistol, when Toby, striking it from his grasp, placed his
hand upon the boy's mouth, and dragged him to the house.

'Hush!' cried the man; 'it won't answer here.  Say another word, and
I'll do your business myself with a crack on the head.  That makes no
noise, and is quite as certain, and more genteel.  Here, Bill, wrench
the shutter open.  He's game enough now, I'll engage.  I've seen older
hands of his age took the same way, for a minute or two, on a cold
night.'

Sikes, invoking terrific imprecations upon Fagin's head for sending
Oliver on such an errand, plied the crowbar vigorously, but with little
noise.  After some delay, and some assistance from Toby, the shutter to
which he had referred, swung open on its hinges.

It was a little lattice window, about five feet and a half above the
ground, at the back of the house:  which belonged to a scullery, or
small brewing-place, at the end of the passage.  The aperture was so
small, that the inmates had probably not thought it worth while to
defend it more securely; but it was large enough to admit a boy of
Oliver's size, nevertheless.  A very brief exercise of Mr. Sike's art,
sufficed to overcome the fastening of the lattice; and it soon stood
wide open also.

'Now listen, you young limb,' whispered Sikes, drawing a dark lantern
from his pocket, and throwing the glare full on Oliver's face; 'I'm a
going to put you through there.  Take this light; go softly up the
steps straight afore you, and along the little hall, to the street
door; unfasten it, and let us in.'

'There's a bolt at the top, you won't be able to reach,' interposed
Toby. 'Stand upon one of the hall chairs.  There are three there, Bill,
with a jolly large blue unicorn and gold pitchfork on 'em:  which is
the old lady's arms.'

'Keep quiet, can't you?' replied Sikes, with a threatening look. 'The
room-door is open, is it?'

'Wide,' replied Toby, after peeping in to satisfy himself. 'The game of
that is, that they always leave it open with a catch, so that the dog,
who's got a bed in here, may walk up and down the passage when he feels
wakeful.  Ha! ha! Barney 'ticed him away to-night.  So neat!'

Although Mr. Crackit spoke in a scarcely audible whisper, and laughed
without noise, Sikes imperiously commanded him to be silent, and to get
to work.  Toby complied, by first producing his lantern, and placing it
on the ground; then by planting himself firmly with his head against
the wall beneath the window, and his hands upon his knees, so as to
make a step of his back. This was no sooner done, than Sikes, mounting
upon him, put Oliver gently through the window with his feet first;
and, without leaving hold of his collar, planted him safely on the
floor inside.

'Take this lantern,' said Sikes, looking into the room.  'You see the
stairs afore you?'

Oliver, more dead than alive, gasped out, 'Yes.'  Sikes, pointing to
the street-door with the pistol-barrel, briefly advised him to take
notice that he was within shot all the way; and that if he faltered, he
would fall dead that instant.

'It's done in a minute,' said Sikes, in the same low whisper. 'Directly
I leave go of you, do your work.  Hark!'

'What's that?' whispered the other man.

They listened intently.

'Nothing,' said Sikes, releasing his hold of Oliver.  'Now!'

In the short time he had had to collect his senses, the boy had firmly
resolved that, whether he died in the attempt or not, he would make one
effort to dart upstairs from the hall, and alarm the family.  Filled
with this idea, he advanced at once, but stealthily.

'Come back!' suddenly cried Sikes aloud.  'Back! back!'

Scared by the sudden breaking of the dead stillness of the place, and
by a loud cry which followed it, Oliver let his lantern fall, and knew
not whether to advance or fly.

The cry was repeated--a light appeared--a vision of two terrified
half-dressed men at the top of the stairs swam before his eyes--a
flash--a loud noise--a smoke--a crash somewhere, but where he knew
not,--and he staggered back.

Sikes had disappeared for an instant; but he was up again, and had him
by the collar before the smoke had cleared away.  He fired his own
pistol after the men, who were already retreating; and dragged the boy
up.

'Clasp your arm tighter,' said Sikes, as he drew him through the
window.  'Give me a shawl here.  They've hit him.  Quick!  How the boy
bleeds!'

Then came the loud ringing of a bell, mingled with the noise of
fire-arms, and the shouts of men, and the sensation of being carried
over uneven ground at a rapid pace.  And then, the noises grew confused
in the distance; and a cold deadly feeling crept over the boy's heart;
and he saw or heard no more.

 Sikes leads Oliver to a ruinous house where his partners in crime, Toby Crackit and Barney, are waiting. At half past one, Sikes and Crackit set out with Oliver. They arrive at the targeted house and climb over the wall surrounding it. Only then does Oliver realize that he will be made to participate in a robbery. Horrified, he begs Sikes to let him go. Sikes curses and prepares to shoot him, but Crackit knocks the pistol away, saying that gunfire will draw attention. Crackit clasps his hand over Oliver's mouth while Sikes pries open a tiny window. Sikes instructs Oliver to enter through the window and open the street door to let them inside, reminding him that he is within shooting range all the while. Oliver plans to dash for the stairs and warn the family. Sikes lowers him through the window. However, the residents of the house awake, and one shoots Oliver's arm. Sikes pulls Oliver back through the window. He and Crackit flee with the bleeding Oliver

