CHAPTER XLVII. FATAL CONSEQUENCES

Itwasnearlytwohoursbeforeday-breakthattimewhichintheautumnoftheyear,maybetrulycalledthedeadofnightwhenthestreetsaresilentanddesertedwhenevensoundsappeartoslumber,andprofligacyandriothavestaggeredhometodreamitwasatthisstillandsilenthour,thatFaginsatwatchinginhisoldlair,withfacesodistortedandpale,andeyessoredandblood-shot,thathelookedlesslikeaman,thanlikesomehideousphantom,moistfromthegrave,andworriedbyanevilspirit. Hesatcrouchingoveracoldhearth,wrappedinanoldtorncoverlet,withhisfaceturnedtowardsawastingcandlethatstooduponatablebyhisside.Hisrighthandwasraisedtohislips,andas,absorbedinthought,hehithislongblacknails,hedisclosedamonghistoothlessgumsafewsuchfangsasshouldhavebeenadog’sorrat’s. Stretcheduponamattressonthefloor,layNoahClaypole,fastasleep.Towardshimtheoldmansometimesdirectedhiseyesforaninstant,andthenbroughtthembackagaintothecandlewhichwithalong-burntwickdroopingalmostdouble,andhotgreasefallingdowninclotsuponthetable,plainlyshowedthathisthoughtswerebusyelsewhere. Indeedtheywere.MortificationattheoverthrowofhisnotableschemehatredofthegirlwhohaddaredtopalterwithstrangersandutterdistrustofthesincerityofherrefusaltoyieldhimupbitterdisappointmentatthelossofhisrevengeonSikesthefearofdetection,andruin,anddeathandafierceanddeadlyragekindledbyallthesewerethepassionateconsiderationswhich,followingcloseuponeachotherwithrapidandceaselesswhirl,shotthroughthebrainofFagin,aseveryevilthoughtandblackestpurposelayworkingathisheart. Hesatwithoutchanginghisattitudeintheleast,orappearingtotakethesmallestheedoftime,untilhisquickearseemedtobeattractedbyafootstepinthestreet. “Atlast,”hemuttered,wipinghisdryandfeveredmouth.“Atlast!” Thebellranggentlyashespoke.Hecreptupstairstothedoor,andpresentlyreturnedaccompaniedbyamanmuffledtothechin,whocarriedabundleunderonearm.Sittingdownandthrowingbackhisoutercoat,themandisplayedtheburlyframeofSikes. “There!”hesaid,layingthebundleonthetable.“Takecareofthat,anddothemostyoucanwithit.It’sbeentroubleenoughtogetIthoughtIshouldhavebeenhere,threehoursago.” Faginlaidhishanduponthebundle,andlockingitinthecupboard,satdownagainwithoutspeaking.Buthedidnottakehiseyesofftherobber,foraninstant,duringthisactionandnowthattheysatoveragainsteachother,facetoface,helookedfixedlyathim,withhislipsquiveringsoviolently,andhisfacesoalter