peating his request in a peremptory manner, he unlocked the door, and requested him to close it softly, while he got a light.
"It's as dark as the grave," said the man, groping forward a few steps. "Make haste. I hate this!"
"Shut the door," whispered Fagin from the end of the passage. As he spoke, it closed with a loud noise.
"That wasn't my doing," said the other man, feeling his way. "The wind blew it to, or it shut of its own accord; one or the other. Look sharp with the light, or I shall knock my brains out against something in this confounded hole."
Fagin stealthily descended the kitchen stairs, and, after a short absence, returned with a lighted candle, and the intelligence that Toby Crackit was asleep in the back-room below, and the boys in the front one. Beckoning the other man to follow him, he led the way up stairs.
"We can say the few words we've got to say in here, my dear," said the Jew, throwing open
