Introduces Some Respectable Characters With Whom the Reader Is Already Acquainted, and Shows How Monks and the Jew Laid Their Worthy Heads Together

On the evening following the meeting described in the previous chapter, Bill Sikes woke from a nap and drowsily growled an inquiry about the time. The room where Mr. Sikes lay was not the same one he had occupied before the Chertsey expedition, although it was in the same part of town and not far from his former lodgings. It was a miserable and poorly furnished apartment of very limited size, lit only by one small window in the sloping roof. The room overlooked a narrow, filthy lane. There were many signs that Sikes had fallen on hard times recently; the lack of furniture and total absence of comfort, along with the disappearance of spare clothes and linen, suggested extreme poverty. Sikes himself looked thin and sickly, confirming his desperate situation. The housebreaker was lying on the bed, wrapped in his white greatcoat as if it were a dressing gown. His face, already harsh, looked even worse due to the ghostly paleness of illness, a dirty nightcap, and a stiff, black week-old beard. His dog sat by the bedside, sometimes watching his master with a hopeful look and sometimes growling softly when a noise in the street or downstairs caught his attention. Seated by the window, busy patching an old waistcoat, was a woman. She was so pale and exhausted from lack of sleep and food that it would have been difficult to recognise her as Nancy, had it not been for her voice when she replied to Sikes. "It’s just after seven," the girl said. "How do you feel tonight, Bill?" "As weak as water," Sikes replied, adding a curse. "Here, give me a hand, and let me get off this miserable bed." Illness had certainly not improved Sikes's temper. As the girl helped him up and led him to a chair, he muttered various insults about her awkwardness and even struck her. "Are you crying now?" Sikes demanded. "Come on! Don’t stand there sobbing. If you can’t do anything better than that, leave altogether. Do you hear me?" "I hear you," the girl replied, turning her face away and forcing a laugh. "What has upset you now?" "Oh, so you’ve changed your mind, have you?" growled Sikes, noticing a tear in her eye. "It's better for you that you have." "Surely you don't mean to be hard on me tonight, Bill," the girl said, laying her hand on his shoulder. "Why not?" Mr. Sikes snapped. "Because of all the nights I’ve been patient with you," she said with a touch of tenderness that made her voice sound almost sweet. "I’ve nursed you and cared for you as if you were a child. This is the first time I’ve seen you acting like yourself again. You wouldn’t have treated me like that just now if you had thought of that, would you?" "Well, then," Sikes rejoined, "I wouldn’t. But look, the girl is crying again!" "It’s nothing," Nancy said, sitting down in a chair. "Don’t mind me. It will soon be over." "What will be over?" Sikes demanded savagely. "What nonsense are you up to now? Get up and get busy, and don’t bother me with your female dramatics." Normally, this harsh tone would have worked, but the girl was truly weak. Her head dropped over the back of the chair and she fainted before Sikes could finish his threats. Not knowing what to do in this unusual emergency—as Nancy’s typical outbursts were usually much more violent—Sikes tried swearing at her. When that proved ineffective, he finally called for help. "What’s the matter here, my dear?" said Fagin, looking in. "Help the girl, can't you?" Sikes replied impatiently. "Don't just stand there grinning at me!" With an exclamation of surprise, Fagin hurried to help Nancy. He was followed by the Artful Dodger, who carried a large bundle, and Charley Bates. The Dodger quickly took a bottle from Charley, uncorked it with his teeth, and poured some of the liquid down Nancy’s throat—taking a small sip himself first to make sure it was alright. "Give her some air with the bellows, Charley," the Dodger commanded, "and Fagin, you slap her hands while Bill loosens her clothes." These energetic efforts soon had the desired effect. Nancy gradually regained consciousness and staggered to a chair by the bedside, hiding her face in the pillow. Sikes, meanwhile, watched his visitors with astonishment. "What wind has blown you here?" he asked Fagin. "No evil wind at all, my dear," Fagin replied, "for I’ve brought something good that you’ll be glad to see. Dodger, open the bundle and show Bill the trifles we bought this morning." The Dodger untied the bundle, which was wrapped in an old tablecloth. He handed the items one by one to Charley Bates, who placed them on the table while praising their quality. "Look at this rabbit pie, Bill!" Charley exclaimed. "It’s so tender the bones melt in your mouth. And here is some very strong tea, a pound and a half of sugar, fresh bread, butter, and some excellent cheese! And to finish it off, some of the finest liquor you’ve ever tasted!" Charley produced a wine bottle from his pocket, while the Dodger poured out a glass of spirits for Sikes, who drank it down without hesitation. "Ah!" said Fagin, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "You’ll be fine now, Bill." "Fine!" Sikes exclaimed. "I might have died twenty times over before you did anything to help me. Why did you leave me in this state for three weeks, you liar?" "Listen to him, boys!" Fagin said, shrugging his shoulders. "And after we brought him all these beautiful things." "The things are fine," Sikes observed, looking over the table, "but why did you leave me here with no health and no money? You ignored me as if I were that dog." "I was away from London for a week on a job, my dear," Fagin replied. "And what about the other two weeks?" Sikes demanded. "Why did you leave me lying here like a sick rat in a hole?" "I couldn’t help it, Bill. I can’t explain everything in front of the others, but I promise you, I couldn’t help it." "Your promise means nothing!" Sikes growled. "One of you, cut me a piece of that pie before I choke." "Don’t be angry, my dear," Fagin urged submissively. "I never forgot you, Bill. Never once." "I’m sure you didn’t," Sikes replied with a bitter grin. "You’ve been plotting and planning while I’ve been shivering with fever. You probably thought Bill would do this or that for a low price as soon as he got well and was poor enough to be desperate. If it hadn’t been for Nancy, I might have died." "There you go, Bill," Fagin said, quickly seizing the opportunity. "If it hadn’t been for the girl! And who but old Fagin provided you with such a helpful girl?" "He’s telling the truth there," Nancy said, coming forward. "Leave him alone." Nancy’s appearance changed the mood. The boys, following a secret signal from Fagin, began to offer her drink, though she took very little. Fagin acted as if he were in high spirits, treating Sikes's threats as a joke and laughing at his rough humour until the housebreaker was in a better mood. "That's all very well," Sikes said eventually, "but I must have some money from you tonight." "I don’t have a single coin on me," Fagin replied. "Then you’ve got plenty at home," Sikes retorted. "I must have some tonight, and that’s final." "Well, well," Fagin said with a sigh, "I’ll send the Dodger round later." "No, you won't," Sikes replied. "The Dodger is too clever; he’d find an excuse not to come. Nancy shall go to your house and fetch it to make sure. I’ll sleep while she’s gone." After a lot of arguing, Fagin managed to reduce the amount Sikes wanted from five pounds to just over three. He claimed this would leave him almost penniless. The boys put the food away, and Fagin left with Nancy and the boys, while Sikes lay down to sleep. When they arrived at Fagin’s house, they found Toby Crackit and Tom Chitling playing cards. Tom had just lost his last sixpence, much to the amusement of the others. Toby Crackit, who acted like a fashionable gentleman, asked about Sikes and then prepared to leave. "Has anyone been here, Toby?" Fagin asked. "Not a soul," Toby answered, adjusting his collar. "It’s been incredibly dull. You should pay me well for staying here so long, Fagin." Toby gathered his winnings and swaggered out with an air of great importance. Tom Chitling watched him with admiration, telling the company that knowing such a "fine gentleman" was worth the money he had lost. "Now," Fagin said, once the boys had been sent out to work, "I’ll go and get that cash for you, Nancy. This is just the key to a small cupboard where I keep a few things. I have no real money to lock up, my dear—none at all. It’s a poor business, Nancy. Hush!" he said, suddenly hiding the key. "Who’s that? Listen!" Nancy, who had been sitting quietly, showed no interest until she heard a man’s voice. Instantly, she moved with lightning speed, taking off her bonnet and shawl and hiding them under the table. When Fagin turned around, she complained about the heat in a tired voice, successfully hiding her sudden movements. "It’s the man I expected," Fagin whispered. "Don’t say a word about the money while he’s here, Nance. He won’t stay long." Fagin took a candle to the door as footsteps were heard on the stairs. The visitor entered quickly—it was Monks. He drew back when he saw Nancy. "It’s only one of my people," Fagin said. "Don’t move, Nancy." Nancy looked at Monks with a careless expression, but as soon as he turned to talk to Fagin, she gave him a look so intense and full of purpose that she seemed like a different person. "Any news?" Fagin asked. "Great news," Monks replied. "And is it good?" Fagin asked hesitantly. "Not bad, anyway," Monks said with a smile. "I’ve been fast enough this time. Let me speak with you in private." Nancy stayed where she was, even though Monks was pointing at her. Fagin, perhaps afraid she would mention the money if he tried to make her leave, led Monks upstairs instead. Nancy heard Monks complain about the "infernal hole" they had met in before. As soon as the footsteps faded, Nancy slipped off her shoes. She muffled her arms in her gown and crept up the stairs with incredible silence, disappearing into the shadows. The room remained empty for fifteen minutes. Then, Nancy glided back just as silently. Soon after, the two men were heard coming down. Monks left immediately, and Fagin went back upstairs to get the money for Sikes. When he returned, Nancy was putting on her shawl. "Nancy!" Fagin exclaimed, startled by her appearance. "How pale you are!" "Pale?" Nancy echoed, shielding her eyes. "You look horrible. What have you been doing?" "Nothing, except sitting in this stuffy room too long," Nancy replied carelessly. "Come on, give me the money. I need to get back." Fagin counted the money into her hand with a sigh for every coin. They said a brief goodnight and parted. Once she was in the street, Nancy sat on a doorstep, appearing completely overwhelmed. Suddenly, she rose and began to run in the opposite direction from Sikes’s house. She ran until she was exhausted, then stopped to catch her breath. She wrung her hands and burst into tears, appearing deeply distressed about something she could not do. Eventually, she turned back and hurried toward Sikes’s lodgings, perhaps trying to make up for lost time. If she was still agitated when she saw Sikes, he didn't notice. He merely asked for the money, and when she gave it to him, he went back to sleep. The next day, Sikes was occupied with eating and drinking, which put him in a better mood. He didn't notice Nancy’s nervous behaviour. Fagin would have suspected something immediately, but Sikes was not that observant. He saw nothing unusual in her manner. As the day ended, Nancy's excitement grew. By nightfall, she was watching Sikes, waiting for him to fall asleep. She was so pale and her eyes were so bright that even Sikes noticed. "You look like a corpse come to life!" he said, staring at her. "What’s the matter?" "Nothing," Nancy replied. "Why are you staring at me?" "What is this nonsense?" Sikes demanded, grabbing her arm. "What are you thinking about?" "Many things, Bill," she replied, shivering and covering her eyes. Her forced cheerfulness seemed to worry Sikes more than her previous look. "I tell you what," he said, "if you haven't caught the fever, then something dangerous is happening. You wouldn't betray me... no, you wouldn't do that!" "Do what?" Nancy asked. "There isn't a more loyal girl alive," Sikes muttered to himself. "It must be the fever." Satisfied with this explanation, Sikes drank his gin and asked for his medicine. Nancy jumped up quickly and poured it out, keeping her back to him. She held the cup to his lips as he drank it. "Now," the robber said, "sit by me and act normally." Nancy obeyed. Sikes held her hand and fell back onto the pillow. His eyes opened and closed several times, and he moved restlessly, but soon the powerful sleeping draught took effect. He fell into a deep, heavy sleep, and his hand relaxed. "The laudanum has worked at last," Nancy whispered. "I may be too late, even now." She quickly put on her bonnet and shawl, looking around fearfully as if she expected Sikes to wake up. She leaned over and kissed him, then quietly left the house. It was half-past nine. She knew she had a long way to go to reach the West End. She hurried through the narrow streets, pushing past people and darting under horses' heads. People thought she was mad as she rushed away. When she reached the wealthier part of town, the streets were quieter. Her rapid pace attracted curiosity from the few people she passed, but she ignored them. Finally, she reached her destination: a quiet, handsome hotel near Hyde Park. The clock struck eleven. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the hall. "Who do you want here?" a smartly dressed maid asked scornfully. "A lady staying in this house," Nancy replied. "Miss Maylie." The maid looked at Nancy’s poor clothes with disdain and called a waiter. Nancy repeated her request to him. "What name shall I give?" the waiter asked. "There’s no use giving a name," Nancy said. "I must see the lady." "Come on," the man said, pushing her toward the door. "Leave now." "I will not leave!" Nancy said violently. "Is there nobody here who will deliver a simple message for a poor woman like me?" A kind-hearted cook stepped forward to help. "Deliver it for her, Joe," he said to the waiter. "What’s the point?" Joe replied. "The young lady won't see someone like her." The housemaids began to insult Nancy, calling her a disgrace, but Nancy ignored them. "Do what you like with me," she said to the men, "but please, give the lady this message for God’s sake." The cook persuaded the waiter to go upstairs. Nancy told him to say that a young woman earnestly asked to speak to Miss Maylie alone. If the lady heard just the first few words, she would know whether to listen or have her turned out. The man ran upstairs. Nancy waited, pale and breathless, enduring the insults of the maids. To their shock, the man returned and said the young woman was to go upstairs. Regardless of their scorn, Nancy followed the man with trembling limbs to a small room. There, he left her alone to wait for Rose Maylie.

Vocabulaire

Contenus

Expression orale et entraînement

Outils

Vocafy

Oliver Twist

Bon retour parmi nous !