“Is it a bargain?” inquired Sikes.
“Yes, my dear, yes,” rejoined the Jew; his eyes glistening, and every muscle in his face working, with the excitement that the inquiry had awakened.
“Then,” said Sikes, thrusting aside the Jew’s hand, with some disdain, “let it come off as soon as you like. Toby and me were over the garden-wall the night afore last, sounding the panels of the door and shutters. The crib’s barred up at night like a jail; but there’s one part we can crack, safe and softly.”
“Which is that, Bill?” asked the Jew eagerly.
“Why,” whispered Sikes, “as you cross the lawn—”
“Yes?” said the Jew, bending his head forward, with his eyes almost starting out of it.
“Umph!” cried Sikes, stopping short, as the girl, scarcely moving her head, looked suddenly round, and pointed for an instant to the Jew’s face. “Never mind which part it is. You can’t do it without me, I know; but it’s best to be on the safe side when one deals with you.”
“As you like, my dear, as you like” replied the Jew. “Is there no help wanted, but yours and Toby’s?”
“None,” said Sikes, “’cept a centre-bit and a boy. The first we’ve both got; the second you must find us.”
“A boy!” exclaimed the Jew. “Oh! then it’s a panel, eh?”