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The Jew rubbed his hands; and, sitting down at the table, affected to laugh at the pleasantry of his friend. He was obviously very ill at ease, however.

“Grin away,” said Sikes, replacing the poker, and surveying him with savage contempt; “grin away. You’ll never have the laugh at me, though, unless it’s behind a night-cap.aq I’ve got the upper hand over you, Fagin; and, d—me, I’ll keep it. There! If I go, you go; so take care of me.”

“Well, well, my dear,” said the Jew, “I know all that; we—we—have a mutual interest, Bill,—a mutual interest.”

“Humph,” said Sikes, as if he thought the interest lay rather more on the Jew’s side than on his. “Well, what have you got to say to me?”

“It’s all passed safe through the melting-pot,” replied Fagin, “and this is your share. It’s rather more than it ought to be, my dear; but as I know you’ll do me a good turn another time, and—”

“Stow that gammon,” interposed the robber, impatiently. “Where is it? Hand over!”

“Yes, yes, Bill; give me time, give me time,” replied the Jew, soothingly. “Here it is! All safe!” As he spoke, he drew forth an old cotton handkerchief from his breast, and untying a large knot in one corner, produced a small brownpaper packet. Sikes, snatching it from him, hastily opened it; and proceeded to count the sovereigns it contained.

“This is all, is it?” inquired Sikes.

“All,” replied the Jew.

“You haven’t opened the parcel and swallowed one or two as you come along, have you?” inquired Sikes, suspiciously. “Don’t put on an injured look at the question; you’ve done it many a time. Jerk the tinkler.”

These words, in plain English, conveyed an injunction to ring the bell. It was answered by another Jew: younger than Fagin, but nearly as vile and repulsive in appearance.

Bill Sikes merely pointed to the empty measure. The Jew, perfectly understanding the hint, retired to fill it: previously exchanging a remarkable look with Fagin, who raised his eyes for an instant, as if in expectation of it, and shook his head in reply; so slightly that the action would have been almost imperceptible to an observant third person. It was lost upon Sikes, who was stooping at the moment to tie the boot-lace which the dog had torn. Possibly, if he had observed the brief interchange of signals, he might have thought that it boded no good to him.

“Is anybody here, Barney?” inquired Fagin; speaking, now that Sikes was looking on, without raising his eyes from the ground.

“Dot a shoul,” replied Barney; whose words: whether they came from the heart or not: made their way through the nose.

“Nobody?” inquired Fagin, in a tone of surprise: which perhaps might mean that Barney was at liberty to tell the truth.

“Dobody but Biss Dadsy,” replied Barney.

“Nancy!” exclaimed Sikes. “Where? Strike me blind, if I don’t honour that ’ere girl, for her native talents.”

“She’s bid havid a plate of boiled beef id the bar,” replied Barney.

“Send her here,” said Sikes, pouring out a glass of liquor. “Send her here.”

Barney looked timidly at Fagin, as if for permission; the Jew remaining silent, and not lifting his eyes from the ground, he retired; and presently returned, ushering in Nancy; who was decorated with the bonnet, apron, basket, and street-door key, complete.

“You are on the scent, are you, Nancy?” inquired Sikes, proffering the glass.

“Yes, I am, Bill,” replied the young lady, disposing of its contents; “and tired enough of it I am, too. The young brat’s been ill and confined to the crib; and—”

“Ah, Nancy, dear!” said Fagin, looking up.

Now, whether a peculiar contraction of the Jew’s red eyebrows, and a half-closing of his deeply-set eyes, warned Miss Nancy that she was disposed to be too communicative, is not a matter of much importance. The fact is all we need care for here; and the fact is, that she suddenly checked herself, and with several gracious smiles upon Mr. Sikes, turned the conversation to other matters. In about ten minutes’ time, Mr. Fagin was seized with a fit of coughing; upon which Nancy pulled her shawl over her shoulders, and declared it was time to go.