Suddenly, he took the desperate resolution to going
back to London.
‘There’s somebody to speak to there, at
all event,’ he thought. ’A good hiding-place,
too. They’ll never expect to nab me there,
after this country scent. Why can’t I lie
by for a week or so, and, forcing blunt from Fagin,
get abroad to France? Damme, I’ll risk
it.’
He acted upon this impulse without delay, and choosing
the least frequented roads began his journey back,
resolved to lie concealed within a short distance
of the metropolis, and, entering it at dusk by a circuitous
route, to proceed straight to that part of it which
he had fixed on for his destination.
The dog, though. If any description of him were
out, it would not be forgotten that the dog was missing,
and had probably gone with him. This might lead
to his apprehension as he passed along the streets.
He resolved to drown him, and walked on, looking
about for a pond: picking up a heavy stone and
tying it to his handkerchief as he went.
The animal looked up into his master’s face
while these preparations were making; whether his
instinct apprehended something of their purpose, or
the robber’s sidelong look at him was sterner
than ordinary, he skulked a little farther in the
rear than usual, and cowered as he came more slowly
along. When his master halted at the brink of
a pool, and looked round to call him, he stopped outright.
‘Do you hear me call? Come here!’
cried Sikes.
The animal came up from the very force of habit; but
as Sikes stooped to attach the handkerchief to his
throat, he uttered a low growl and started back.
‘Come back!’ said the robber.
The dog wagged his tail, but moved not. Sikes
made a running noose and called him again.
The dog advanced, retreated, paused an instant, and
scoured away at his hardest speed.
The man whistled again and again, and sat down and
waited in the expectation that he would return.
But no dog appeared, and at length he resumed his
journey.
MONKS AND MR. BROWNLOW AT LENGTH MEET. THEIR
CONVERSATION, AND THE INTELLIGENCE THAT INTERRUPTS
IT
The twilight was beginning to close in, when Mr.
Brownlow alighted from a hackney-coach at his own
door, and knocked softly. The door being opened,
a sturdy man got out of the coach and stationed himself
on one side of the steps, while another man, who had
been seated on the box, dismounted too, and stood
upon the other side. At a sign from Mr. Brownlow,
they helped out a third man, and taking him between
them, hurried him into the house. This man was
Monks.
They walked in the same manner up the stairs without
speaking, and Mr. Brownlow, preceding them, led the
way into a back-room. At the door of this apartment,
Monks, who had ascended with evident reluctance, stopped.
The two men looked at the old gentleman as if for
instructions.
