CHAPTER XXVIII. LOOKS AFTER OLIVER, AND PROCEEDS WITH HIS ADVENTURES

)listenedwithbreathlessinterest. “Itwasabouthalf-pasttwo,”saidMr.Giles,“orIwouldn’tswearthatitmightn’thavebeenalittlenearerthree,whenIwokeup,and,turningroundinmybed,asitmightbeso,(hereMr.Gilesturnedroundinhischair,andpulledthecornerofthetable-clothoverhimtoimitatebed-clothes,)IfanciedIheerdanoise.” Atthispointofthenarrativethecookturnedpale,andaskedthehousemaidtoshutthedoor:whoaskedBrittles,whoaskedthetinker,whopretendednottohear. “—Heerdanoise,”continuedMr.Giles.“Isays,atfirst,‘Thisisillusion’andwascomposingmyselfofftosleep,whenIheerdthenoiseagain,distinct.” “Whatsortofanoise?”askedthecook. “Akindofabustingnoise,”repliedMr.Giles,lookingroundhim. “Morelikethenoiseofpowderingaironbaronanutmeg-grater,”suggestedBrittles. “Itwas,whenyouheerdit,sir,”rejoinedMr.Giles“but,atthistime,ithadabustingsound.Iturneddowntheclothes”continuedGiles,rollingbackthetable-cloth,“satupinbedandlistened.” Thecookandhousemaidsimultaneouslyejaculated“Lor!”anddrewtheirchairsclosertogether. “Iheerditnow,quiteapparent,”resumedMr.Giles.“‘Somebody,’Isays,‘isforcingofadoor,orwindowwhat’stobedone?I’llcallupthatpoorlad,Brittles,andsavehimfrombeingmurderedinhisbedorhisthroat,’Isays,‘maybecutfromhisrighteartohisleft,withouthiseverknowingit.’” Here,alleyeswereturneduponBrittles,whofixedhisuponthespeaker,andstaredathim,withhismouthwideopen,andhisfaceexpressiveofthemostunmitigatedhorror. “Itossedofftheclothes,”saidGiles,throwingawaythetable-cloth,andlookingveryhardatthecookandhousemaid,“gotsoftlyoutofbeddrewonapairof—” “Ladiespresent,Mr.Giles,”murmuredthetinker. “—Ofshoes,sir,”saidGiles,turninguponhim,andlayinggreatemphasisontheword“seizedtheloadedpistolthatalwaysgoesupstairswiththeplate-basketandwalkedontiptoestohisroom.‘Brittles,’Isays,whenIhadwokehim,‘don’tbefrightened!’” “Soyoudid,”observedBrittles,inalowvoice. “‘We’redeadmen,Ithink,Brittles,’Isays,”continuedGiles“‘butdon’tbefrightened.’” “Washefrightened?”askedthecook. “Notabitofit,”repliedMr.Giles.“Hewasasfirm—ah!prettynearasfirmasIwas.” “Ishouldhavediedatonce,I’msure,ifithadbeenme,”observedthehousemaid. “You’reawoman,”retortedBrittles,pluckingupalittle. “Brittlesisright,”saidMr.Giles,noddinghishead,approvingly“fromawoman,nothingelsewastobeexpected.We,beingmen,tookadarklanternthatwasstandingonBrittle’shob,andgropedourwaydownstairsinthepitchdark,—asitmightbeso.” Mr.Gileshadrisenfromhisseat,andtakentwostepswithhiseyesshut,toaccompanyhisdescriptionwithappropriateaction,whenhestartedviolently,incommonwiththerestofthecompany,andhurriedbacktohischair.Thecookandhousemaidscreamed. “Itwasaknock,”saidMr.Giles,assumingperfectserenity.“Openthedoor,somebody.” Nobodymoved. “Itseemsastrangesortofathing,aknockcomingatsuchatimeinthemorning,”saidMr.Giles,surveyingthepalefaceswhichsurroundedhim,andlookingveryblankhimself“butthedoormustbeopened.Doyouhear,somebody?” Mr.Giles,ashespoke,lookedatBrittlesbutthatyoungman,beingnaturallymodest,probablyconsideredhimselfnobody,andsoheldthattheinquirycouldnothaveanyapplicationtohimatallevents,hetenderednoreply.Mr.Gilesdirectedanappealingglanceatthetinkerbuthehadsuddenlyfallenasleep.Thewomenwereoutofthequestion. “IfBrittleswouldrather