"Why, that she couldn't very easily get out-of-doors unless he knew where she was going to," said Noah; "and so the first time she went to see the lady, she—ha! ha! ha! it made me laugh when she said it, that it did—she gave him a drink of laudanum."
"Hell's fire!" cried Sikes, breaking fiercely from the Jew. "Let me go!"
Flinging the old man from him, he rushed from the room, and darted, wildly and furiously, up the stairs.
"Bill, Bill!" cried the Jew, following him hastily. "A word. Only a word."
The word would not have been exchanged, but that the housebreaker was unable to open the door, on which he was expending fruitless oaths and violence when the Jew came panting up.
"Let me out," said Sikes. "Don't speak to me; it's not safe. Let me out, I say."
"Hear me speak a word," rejoined the Jew, laying his hand upon the lock. "You won't be—"
"Well?" replied the other.
"You won't be—too—violent, Bill?" whined the Jew.
The day was breaking, and there was light enough for the men to see each other's faces. They exchanged one brief glance; there was a fire in the eyes of both which could not be mistaken.