CHAPTER XXI. THE EXPEDITION

ingwiththefog,whichseemedtorestuponthechimney-tops,hungheavilyabove.Allthepensinthecentreofthelargearea,andasmanytemporarypensascouldbecrowdedintothevacantspace,werefilledwithsheeptieduptopostsbytheguttersidewerelonglinesofbeastsandoxen,threeorfourdeep.Countrymen,butchers,drovers,hawkers,boys,thieves,idlers,andvagabondsofeverylowgrade,weremingledtogetherinamassthewhistlingofdrovers,thebarkingdogs,thebellowingandplungingoftheoxen,thebleatingofsheep,thegruntingandsqueakingofpigs,thecriesofhawkers,theshouts,oaths,andquarrellingonallsidestheringingofbellsandroarofvoices,thatissuedfromeverypublic-housethecrowding,pushing,driving,beating,whoopingandyellingthehideousanddiscordantdimthatresoundedfromeverycornerofthemarketandtheunwashed,unshaven,squalid,anddirtyfiguresconstantlyrunningtoandfro,andburstinginandoutofthethrongrendereditastunningandbewilderingscene,whichquiteconfoundedthesenses. Mr.Sikes,draggingOliverafterhim,elbowedhiswaythroughthethickestofthecrowd,andbestowedverylittleattentiononthenumeroussightsandsounds,whichsoastonishedtheboy.Henodded,twiceorthrice,toapassingfriendand,resistingasmanyinvitationstotakeamorningdram,pressedsteadilyonward,untiltheywereclearoftheturmoil,andhadmadetheirwaythroughHosierLaneintoHolborn. “Now,young’un!”saidSikes,lookingupattheclockofSt.Andrew’sChurch,“harduponseven!youmuststepout.Come,don’tlagbehindalready,Lazy-legs!” Mr.Sikesaccompaniedthisspeechwithajerkathislittlecompanion’swristOliver,quickeninghispaceintoakindoftrotbetweenafastwalkandarun,keptupwiththerapidstridesofthehouse-breakeraswellashecould. Theyheldtheircourseatthisrate,untiltheyhadpassedHydeParkcorner,andwereontheirwaytoKensington:whenSikesrelaxedhispace,untilanemptycartwhichwasatsomelittledistancebehind,cameup.Seeing“Hounslow”writtenonit,heaskedthedriverwithasmuchcivilityashecouldassume,ifhewouldgivethemaliftasfarasIsleworth. “Jumpup,”saidtheman.“Isthatyourboy?” “Yeshe’smyboy,”repliedSikes,lookinghardatOliver,andputtinghishandabstractedlyintothepocketwherethepistolwas. “Yourfat