Chapter XXXI

Oliver Twist

by Charles Dickens

Involves a Critical Position

'Who's that?' inquired Brittles, opening the door a little way,
with the chain up, and peeping out, shading the candle with his
hand.

'Open the door,' replied a man outside; 'it's the officers from
Bow Street, as was sent to to-day.'

Much comforted by this assurance, Brittles opened the door to
its full width, and confronted a portly man in a great-coat; who
walked in, without saying anything more, and wiped his shoes on the
mat, as coolly as if he lived there.

'Just send somebody out to relieve my mate, will you, young
man?' said the officer; 'he's in the gig, a-minding the prad. Have
you got a coach 'us here, that you could put it up in, for five or
ten minutes?'

Brittles replying in the affirmative, and pointing out the
building, the portly man stepped back to the garden-gate, and helped
his companion to put up the gig: while Brittles lighted them, in a
state of great admiration. This done, they returned to the house,
and, being shown into a parlour, took off their great-coats and hats,
and showed like what they were.

The man who had knocked at the door, was a stout personage of
middle height, aged about fifty: with shiny black hair, cropped
pretty close; half-whiskers, a round face, and sharp eyes. The other
was a red-headed, bony man, in top-boots; with a rather ill-favoured
countenance, and a turned-up sinister-looking nose.

'Tell your governor that Blathers and Duff is here, will you?'
said the stouter man, smoothing down his hair, and laying a pair of
handcuffs on the table. 'Oh! Good-evening, master. Can I have a
word or two with you in private, if you please?'

This was addressed to Mr. Losberne, who now made his appearance;
that gentleman, motioning Brittles to retire, brought in the two
ladies, and shut the door.

'This is the lady of the house,' said Mr. Losberne, motioning
towards Mrs. Maylie.

Mr. Blathers made a bow. Being desired to sit down, he put his
hat on the floor, and taking a chair, motioned to Duff to do the
same. The latter gentleman, who did not appear quite so much
accustomed to good society, or quite so much at his ease in it--one
of the two--seated himself, after undergoing several muscular
affections of the limbs, and the head of his stick into his mouth,
with some embarrassment.

'Now, with regard to this here robbery, master,' said Blathers.
'What are the circumstances?'

Mr. Losberne, who appeared desirous of gaining time, recounted
them at great length, and with much circumlocution. Messrs. Blathers
and Duff looked very knowing meanwhile, and occasionally exchanged a
nod.

'I can't say, for certain, till I see the work, of course,' said
Blathers; 'but my opinion at once is,--I don't mind committing myself
to that extent,--that this wasn't done by a yokel; eh, Duff?'

'Certainly not,' replied Duff.

'And, translating the word yokel for the benefit of the ladies,
I apprehend your meaning to be, that this attempt was not made by a
countryman?' said Mr. Losberne, with a smile.

'That's it, master,' replied Blathers. 'This is all about the
robbery, is it?'

'All,' replied the doctor.

'Now, what is this, about this here boy that the servants are
a-talking on?' said Blathers.

'Nothing at all,' replied the doctor. 'One of the frightened
servants chose to take it into his head, that he had something to do
with this attempt to break into the house; but it's nonsense: sheer
absurdity.'

'Wery easy disposed of, if it is,' remarked Duff.

'What he says is quite correct,' observed Blathers, nodding his
head in a confirmatory way, and playing carelessly with the
handcuffs, as if they were a pair of castanets. 'Who is the boy?

What account does he give of himself? Where did he come from?
He didn't drop out of the clouds, did he, master?'

'Of course not,' replied the doctor, with a nervous glance at
the two ladies. 'I know his whole history: but we can talk about
that presently. You would like, first, to see the place where the
thieves made their attempt, I suppose?'

'Certainly,' rejoined Mr. Blathers. 'We had better inspect the
premises first, and examine the servants afterwards. That's the usual
way of doing business.'

Lights were then procured; and Messrs. Blathers and Duff,
attended by the native constable, Brittles, Giles, and everybody else
in short, went into the little room at the end of the passage and
looked out at the window; and afterwards went round by way of the
lawn, and looked in at the window; and after that, had a candle
handed out to inspect the shutter with; and after that, a lantern to
trace the footsteps with; and after that, a pitchfork to poke the
bushes with. This done, amidst the breathless interest of all
beholders, they came in again; and Mr. Giles and Brittles were put
through a melodramatic representation of their share in the previous
night's adventures: which they performed some six times over:
contradiction each other, in not more than one important respect, the
first time, and in not more than a dozen the last. This consummation
being arrived at, Blathers and Duff cleared the room, and held a long
council together, compared with which, for secrecy and solemnity, a
consultation of great doctors on the knottiest point in medicine,
would be mere child's play.

Meanwhile, the doctor walked up and down the next room in a very
uneasy state; and Mrs. Maylie and Rose looked on, with anxious
faces.

'Upon my word,' he said, making a halt, after a great number of
very rapid turns, 'I hardly know what to do.'

'Surely,' said Rose, 'the poor child's story, faithfully
repeated to these men, will be sufficient to exonerate him.'

'I doubt it, my dear young lady,' said the doctor, shaking his
head. 'I don't think it would exonerate him, either with them, or
with legal functionaries of a higher grade. What is he, after all,
they would say? A runaway. Judged by mere worldly considerations
and probabilities, his story is a very doubtful one.'

'You believe it, surely?' interrupted Rose.

'_I_ believe it, strange as it is; and perhaps I may be an old
fool for doing so,' rejoined the doctor; 'but I don't think it is
exactly the tale for a practical police-officer, nevertheless.'

'Why not?' demanded Rose.

'Because, my pretty cross-examiner,' replied the doctor:
'because, viewed with their eyes, there are many ugly points about
it; he can only prove the parts that look ill, and none of those that
look well. Confound the fellows, they will have the way and the
wherefore, and will take nothing for granted. On his own showing,
you see, he has been the companion of thieves for some time past; he
has been carried to a police-officer, on a charge of picking a
gentleman's pocket; he has been taken away, forcibly, from that
gentleman's house, to a place which he cannot describe or point out,
and of the situation of which he has not the remotest idea. He is
brought down to Chertsey, by men who seem to have taken a violent
fancy to him, whether he will or no; and is put through a window to
rob a house; and then, just at the very moment when he is going to
alarm the inmates, and so do the very thing that would set him all to
rights, there rushes into the way, a blundering dog of a half-bred
butler, and shoots him! As if on purpose to prevent his doing any
good for himself! Don't you see all this?'

'I see it, of course,' replied Rose, smiling at the doctor's
impetuosity; 'but still I do not see anything in it, to criminate the
poor child.'

'No,' replied the doctor; 'of course not! Bless the bright eyes
of your sex! They never see, whether for good or bad, more than one
side of any question; and that is, always, the one which first
presents itself to them.'

Having given vent to this result of experience, the doctor put
his hands into his pockets, and walked up and down the room with even
greater rapidity than before.

'The more I think of it,' said the doctor, 'the more I see that
it will occasion endless trouble and difficulty if we put these men
in possession of the boy's real story. I am certain it will not be
believed; and even if they can do nothing to him in the end, still
the dragging it forward, and giving publicity to all the doubts that
will be cast upon it, must interfere, materially, with your
benevolent plan of rescuing him from misery.'

'Oh! what is to be done?' cried Rose. 'Dear, dear! whyddid they
send for these people?'

'Why, indeed!' exclaimed Mrs. Maylie. 'I would not have had
them here, for the world.'

'All I know is,' said Mr. Losberne, at last: sitting down with
a kind of desperate calmness, 'that we must try and carry it off with
a bold face. The object is a good one, and that must be our excuse.
The boy has strong symptoms of fever upon him, and is in no condition
to be talked to any more; that's one comfort. We must make the best
of it; and if bad be the best, it is no fault of ours. Come in!'

'Well, master,' said Blathers, entering the room followed by his
colleague, and making the door fast, before he said any more. 'This
warn't a put-up thing.'

'And what the devil's a put-up thing?' demanded the doctor,
impatiently.

'We call it a put-up robbery, ladies,' said Blathers, turning to
them, as if he pitied their ignorance, but had a contempt for the
doctor's, 'when the servants is in it.'

'Nobody suspected them, in this case,' said Mrs. Maylie.

'Wery likely not, ma'am,' replied Blathers; 'but they might have
been in it, for all that.'

'More likely on that wery account,' said Duff.

'We find it was a town hand,' said Blathers, continuing his
report; 'for the style of work is first-rate.'

'Wery pretty indeed it is,' remarked Duff, in an undertone.

'There was two of 'em in it,' continued Blathers; 'and they had
a boy with 'em; that's plain from the size of the window. That's all
to be said at present. We'll see this lad that you've got upstairs
at once, if you please.'

'Perhaps they will take something to drink first, Mrs. Maylie?'
said the doctor: his face brightening, as if some new thought had
occurred to him.

'Oh! to be sure!' exclaimed Rose, eagerly. 'You shall have it
immediately, if you will.'

'Why, thank you, miss!' said Blathers, drawing his coat-sleeve
across his mouth; 'it's dry work, this sort of duty. Anythink that's
handy, miss; don't put yourself out of the way, on our accounts.'

'What shall it be?' asked the doctor, following the young lady
to the sideboard.

'A little drop of spirits, master, if it's all the same,'
replied Blathers. 'It's a cold ride from London, ma'am; and I always
find that spirits comes home warmer to the feelings.'

This interesting communication was addressed to Mrs. Maylie, who
received it very graciously. While it was being conveyed to her, the
doctor slipped out of the room.

'Ah!' said Mr. Blathers: not holding his wine-glass by the
stem, but grasping the bottom between the thumb and forefinger of his
left hand: and placing it in front of his chest; 'I have seen a good
many pieces of business like this, in my time, ladies.'

'That crack down in the back lane at Edmonton, Blathers,' said
Mr. Duff, assisting his colleague's memory.

'That was something in this way, warn't it?' rejoined Mr.
Blathers; 'that was done by Conkey Chickweed, that was.'

'You always gave that to him' replied Duff. 'It was the Family
Pet, I tell you. Conkey hadn't any more to do with it than I
had.'

'Get out!' retorted Mr. Blathers; 'I know better. Do you mind
that time when Conkey was robbed of his money, though? What a start
that was! Better than any novel-book _I_ ever see!'

'What was that?' inquired Rose: anxious to encourage any
symptoms of good-humour in the unwelcome visitors.

'It was a robbery, miss, that hardly anybody would have been
down upon,' said Blathers. 'This here Conkey Chickweed--'

'Conkey means Nosey, ma'am,' interposed Duff.

'Of course the lady knows that, don't she?' demanded Mr.
Blathers. 'Always interrupting, you are, partner! This here Conkey
Chickweed, miss, kept a public-house over Battlebridge way, and he
had a cellar, where a good many young lords went to see
cock-fighting, and badger-drawing, and that; and a wery intellectural
manner the sports was conducted in, for I've seen 'em off'en. He
warn't one of the family, at that time; and one night he was robbed
of three hundred and twenty-seven guineas in a canvas bag, that was
stole out of his bedrrom in the dead of night, by a tall man with a
black patch over his eye, who had concealed himself under the bed,
and after committing the robbery, jumped slap out of window: which
was only a story high.

He was wery quick about it. But Conkey was quick, too; for he
fired a blunderbuss arter him, and roused the neighbourhood. They set
up a hue-and-cry, directly, and when they came to look about 'em,
found that Conkey had hit the robber; for there was traces of blood,
all the way to some palings a good distance off; and there they lost
'em. However, he had made off with the blunt; and, consequently, the
name of Mr. Chickweed, licensed witler, appeared in the Gazette among
the other bankrupts; and all manner of benefits and subscriptions,
and I don't know what all, was got up for the poor man, who was in a
wery low state of mind about his loss, and went up and down the
streets, for three or four days, a pulling his hair off in such a
desperate manner that many people was afraid he might be going to
make away with himself. One day he came up to the office, all in a
hurry, and had a private interview with the magistrate, who, after a
deal of talk, rings the bell, and orders Jem Spyers in (Jem was a
active officer), and tells him to go and assist Mr. Chickweed in
apprehending the man as robbed his house. "I see him, Spyers," said
Chickweed, "pass my house yesterday morning," "Why didn't you up,
and collar him!" says Spyers. "I was so struck all of a heap, that
you might have fractured my skull with a toothpick," says the poor
man; "but we're sure to have him; for between ten and eleven o'clock
at night he passed again." Spyers no sooner heard this, than he put
some clean linen and a comb, in his pocket, in case he should have to
stop a day or two; and away he goes, and sets himself down at one of
the public-house windows behind the little red curtain, with his hat
on, all ready to bolt out, at a moment's notice. He was smoking his
pipe here, late at night, when all of a sudden Chickweed roars out,
"Here he is! Stop thief! Murder!" Jem Spyers dashes out; and there
he sees Chickweed, a-tearing down the street full cry. Away goes
Spyers; on goes Chickweed; round turns the people; everybody roars
out, "Thieves!" and Chickweed himself keeps on shouting, all the
time, like mad. Spyers loses sight of him a minute as he turns a
corner; shoots round; sees a little crowd; dives in; "Which is the
man?" "D--me!" says Chickweed, "I've lost him again!" It was a
remarkable occurrence, but he warn't to be seen nowhere, so they went
back to the public-house. Next morning, Spyers took his old place,
and looked out, from behind the curtain, for a tall man with a black
patch over his eye, till his own two eyes ached again. At last, he
couldn't help shutting 'em, to ease 'em a minute; and the very moment
he did so, he hears Chickweed a-roaring out, "Here he is!" Off he
starts once more, with Chickweed half-way down the street ahead of
him; and after twice as long a run as the yesterday's one, the man's
lost again! This was done, once or twice more, till one-half the
neighbours gave out that Mr. Chickweed had been robbed by the devil,
who was playing tricks with him arterwards; and the other half, that
poor Mr. Chickweed had gone mad with grief.'

'What did Jem Spyers say?' inquired the doctor; who had returned
to the room shortly after the commencement of the story.

'Jem Spyers,' resumed the officer, 'for a long time said nothing
at all, and listened to everything without seeming to, which showed
he understood his business. But, one morning, he walked into the
bar, and taking out his snuffbox, says "Chickweed, I've found out who
done this here robbery." "Have you?" said Chickweed. "Oh, my dear
Spyers, only let me have wengeance, and I shall die contented! Oh,
my dear Spyers, where is the villain!" "Come!" said Spyers, offering
him a pinch of snuff, "none of that gammon! You did it yourself."
So he had; and a good bit of money he had made by it, too; and nobody
would never have found it out, if he hadn't been so precious anxious
to keep up appearances!' said Mr. Blathers, putting down his
wine-glass, and clinking the handcuffs together.

'Very curious, indeed,' observed the doctor. 'Now, if you
please, you can walk upstairs.'

'If you please, sir,' returned Mr. Blathers. Closely following
Mr. Losberne, the two officers ascended to Oliver's bedroom; Mr.
Giles preceding the party, with a lighted candle.

Oliver had been dozing; but looked worse, and was more feverish
than he had appeared yet. Being assisted by the doctor, he managed
to sit up in bed for a minute or so; and looked at the strangers
without at all understanding what was going forward--in fact, without
seeming to recollect where he was, or what had been passing.

'This,' said Mr. Losberne, speaking softly, but with great
vehemence notwithstanding, 'this is the lad, who, being accidently
wounded by a spring-gun in some boyish trespass on Mr. What-d'
ye-call-him's grounds, at the back here, comes to the house for
assistance this morning, and is immediately laid hold of and
maltreated, by that ingenious gentleman with the candle in his hand:
who has placed his life in considerable danger, as I can
professionally certify.'

Messrs. Blathers and Duff looked at Mr. Giles, as he was thus
recommended to their notice. The bewildered butler gazed from them
towards Oliver, and from Oliver towards Mr. Losberne, with a most
ludicrous mixture of fear and perplexity.

'You don't mean to deny that, I suppose?' said the doctor,
laying Oliver gently down again.

'It was all done for the--for the best, sir,' answered Giles. 'I
am sure I thought it was the boy, or I wouldn't have meddled with
him. I am not of an inhuman disposition, sir.'

'Thought it was what boy?' inquired the senior officer.

'The housebreaker's boy, sir!' replied Giles. 'They--they
certainly had a boy.'

'Well? Do you think so now?' inquired Blathers.

'Think what, now?' replied Giles, looking vacantly at his
questioner.

'Think it's the same boy, Stupid-head?' rejoined Blathers,
impatiently.

'I don't know; I really don't know,' said Giles, with a rueful
countenance. 'I couldn't swear to him.'

'What do you think?' asked Mr. Blathers.

'I don't know what to think,' replied poor Giles. 'I don't
think it is the boy; indeed, I'm almost certain that it isn't. You
know it can't be.'

'Has this man been a-drinking, sir?' inquired Blathers, turning
to the doctor.

'What a precious muddle-headed chap you are!' said Duff,
addressing Mr. Giles, with supreme contempt.

Mr. Losberne had been feeling the patient's pulse during this
short dialogue; but he now rose from the chair by the bedside, and
remarked, that if the officers had any doubts upon the subject, they
would perhaps like to step into the next room, and have Brittles
before them.

Acting upon this suggestion, they adjourned to a neighbouring
apartment, where Mr. Brittles, being called in, involved himself and
his respected superior in such a wonderful maze of fresh
contradictions and impossibilities, as tended to throw no particular
light on anything, but the fact of his own strong mystification;
except, indeed, his declarations that he shouldn't know the real boy,
if he were put before him that instant; that he had only taken Oliver
to be he, because Mr. Giles had said he was; and that Mr. Giles had,
five minutes previously, admitted in the kitchen, that he begain to
be very much afraid he had been a little too hasty.

Among other ingenious surmises, the question was then raised,
whether Mr. Giles had really hit anybody; and upon examination of the
fellow pistol to that which he had fired, it turned out to have no
more destructive loading than gunpowder and brown paper: a discovery
which made a considerable impression on everybody but the doctor, who
had drawn the ball about ten minutes before. Upon no one, however,
did it make a greater impression than on Mr. Giles himself; who,
after labouring, for some hours, under the fear of having mortally
wounded a fellow-creature, eagerly caught at this new idea, and
favoured it to the utmost. Finally, the officers, without troubling
themselves very much about Oliver, left the Chertsey constable in the
house, and took up their rest for that night in the town; promising
to return the next morning.

With the next morning, there came a rumour, that two men and a
boy were in the cage at Kingston, who had been apprehended over night
under suspicious circumstances; and to Kingston Messrs. Blathers and
Duff journeyed accordingly. The suspicious circumstances, however,
resolving themselves, on investigation, into the one fact, that they
had been discovered sleeping under a haystack; which, although a
great crime, is only punishable by imprisonment, and is, in the
merciful eye of the English law, and its comprehensive love of all
the King's subjects, held to be no satisfactory proof, in the absence
of all other evidence, that the sleeper, or sleepers, have committed
burglary accompanied with violence, and have therefore rendered
themselves liable to the punishment of death; Messrs. Blathers and
Duff came back again, as wise as they went.

In short, after some more examination, and a great deal more
conversation, a neighbouring magistrate was readily induced to take
the joint bail of Mrs. Maylie and Mr. Losberne for Oliver's
appearance if he should ever be called upon; and Blathers and Duff,
being rewarded with a couple of guineas, returned to town with
divided opinions on the subject of their expedition: the latter
gentleman on a mature consideration of all the circumstances,
inclining to the belief that the burglarious attempt had originated
with the Family Pet; and the former being equally disposed to concede
the full merit of it to the great Mr. Conkey Chickweed.

Meanwhile, Oliver gradually throve and prospered under the
united care of Mrs. Maylie, Rose, and the kind-hearted Mr. Losberne.
If fervent prayers, gushing from hearts overcharged with gratitude,
be heard in heaven--and if they be not, what prayers are!--the
blessings which the orphan child called down upon them, sunk into
their souls, diffusing peace and happiness.