The old man was up early the next morning, waiting impatiently for his new associate. After a delay that seemed to last forever, Noah finally appeared and immediately began to eat his breakfast greedily.
“Bolter,” said Fagin, drawing up a chair and seating himself opposite the young man.
“Well, here I am,” Noah replied. “What is it? Don’t ask me to do anything until I’ve finished eating. That’s the problem with this place—you never get enough time for your meals.”
“You can talk while you eat, can’t you?” Fagin asked, cursing his young friend’s selfishness from the bottom of his heart.
“Oh yes, I can talk. I actually get on better when I talk,” said Noah, cutting an enormous slice of bread. “Where’s Charlotte?”
“She’s out,” said Fagin. “I sent her out this morning with the other young woman because I wanted us to be alone.”
“Oh!” said Noah. “I wish you’d told her to make some buttered toast first. Well, talk away. You won’t interrupt me.”
There seemed to be no danger of anything interrupting Noah’s appetite, as he had evidently sat down with the determination to consume as much as possible.
“You did brilliantly yesterday, my dear,” said Fagin. “Six shillings and ninepence on your very first day! The ‘kinchin lay’ will make you a fortune.”
“Don’t forget the three pint-pots and the milk-can,” added Mr. Bolter.
“No, no, my dear. The pint-pots were a stroke of genius, but the milk-can was a perfect masterpiece.”
“Not bad for a beginner, I think,” remarked Mr. Bolter complacently. “I took the pots off the railings of some houses, and the milk-can was just standing by itself outside a pub. I thought it might get rusty in the rain, or catch a cold, you know? Ha! ha! ha!”
Fagin pretended to laugh heartily. Once Noah had finished his own laugh, he took several large bites of bread and butter before starting on a second helping.
“I want you, Bolter,” said Fagin, leaning over the table, “to carry out a piece of work for me that requires great care and caution.”
“Now, listen,” Bolter interrupted. “Don’t go pushing me into danger or sending me to any more police stations. That doesn’t suit me at all, and I’m telling you now.”
“There isn’t the slightest bit of danger in it—not the smallest,” said the Jew. “It’s only to follow a woman.”
“An old woman?” Noah demanded.
“A young one,” Fagin replied.
“I can do that well enough,” said Bolter. “I was a notorious sneak when I was at school. Why am I following her? Is it to—?”
“Not to do anything,” Fagin clarified, “but to tell me where she goes, who she sees, and if possible, what she says. You must remember the street and the house, and bring back all the information you can.”
“What will you give me?” Noah asked, setting down his cup and looking his employer eagerly in the face.
“If you do it well, I’ll give you a pound, my dear. One pound,” said Fagin, wanting to ensure the spy was as motivated as possible. “And that is more than I have ever paid for a job where there wasn’t any stolen property to be gained.”
“Who is she?” Noah inquired.
“One of our own.”
“Oh!” Noah cried, wrinkling his nose. “So, you’re suspicious of her, are you?”
“She has found some new friends, my dear, and I must find out who they are,” Fagin replied.
“I see,” said Noah. “Just so you can have the pleasure of meeting them if they’re respectable people, eh? Ha! ha! ha! I’m your man.”
“I knew you would be,” Fagin cried, delighted that his proposal had been accepted.
“Of course. Where is she? Where should I wait for her?”
“I will tell you all of that. I’ll point her out to you at the right time,” said Fagin. “You stay ready, and leave the rest to me.”
That night, and for the next two nights, the spy sat ready in his carter’s disguise, prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. Six nights passed—six long, weary nights—and each time Fagin returned with a disappointed face, stating that it was not yet time. On the seventh night, however, he returned earlier, unable to hide his excitement. It was Sunday.
“She’s going out tonight,” said Fagin, “and I’m certain she’s up to something. She has been alone all day, and the man she is afraid of won’t be back until dawn. Come with me. Quick!”
Noah jumped up without a word. Fagin was in such a state of intense excitement that it made Noah nervous too. They left the house stealthily and hurried through a maze of narrow streets until they arrived at a pub. Noah recognized it as the place where he had stayed on his first night in London.
It was past eleven o'clock, and the door was closed. However, it opened softly when Fagin gave a low whistle. They entered quietly, and the door was locked behind them.
Hardly daring to whisper, Fagin and the young man who had let them in pointed toward a small pane of glass in the wall. They signaled for Noah to look through it at the person in the next room.
“Is that the woman?” he whispered.
Fagin nodded.
“I can’t see her face very well,” Noah whispered back. “She’s looking down, and the candle is behind her.”
“Wait there,” Fagin whispered. He signaled to Barney, who left the room. A moment later, the boy entered the adjoining room. Under the pretense of adjusting the candle, he moved it into a better position and spoke to the girl, causing her to look up.
“I see her now,” the spy whispered.
“Clearly?”
“I’d recognize her among a thousand people.”
Noah quickly climbed down as the door opened and the girl came out. Fagin pulled him behind a small curtained partition. They held their breath as she passed within a few feet of their hiding place and left through the same door they had used.
“Now!” whispered the boy at the door.
Noah exchanged a quick look with Fagin and darted out into the street.
“To the left,” the boy whispered after him. “Stay on the left and keep to the other side of the road.”
Noah followed these instructions. By the light of the streetlamps, he saw the girl’s retreating figure in the distance. He advanced as near as he considered prudent, keeping to the opposite side of the street so he could better observe her movements. She looked around nervously several times and once stopped to let two men pass her. As she continued, she seemed to gather courage, walking with a steadier and firmer step. The spy maintained his distance and followed silently, his eyes fixed on her every move.