"I mean," said Fagin, showing that he felt all disguise was now useless, "not too violent for safety. Be crafty, Bill, and not too bold."
Sikes made no reply; but pulling open the door, of which the Jew had turned the lock, dashed into the silent streets.
Without one pause, or moment's consideration; without once turning his head to the right or left, or raising his eyes to the sky or lowering them to the ground, but looking straight before him with savage resolution: his teeth so tightly compressed that the strained jaw seemed starting through his skin, the robber held on his headlong course, nor muttered a word, nor relaxed a muscle, until he reached his own door. He opened it, softly, with a key; strode lightly up the stairs; and entering his own room, double-locked the door, and lifting the heavy table against it, drew back the curtain of the bed.
The girl was lying, half dressed, upon it. He had roused her from her sleep, for she raised herself with a hurried and startled look.
"Get up!" said the man.
"It is you, Bill!" said the girl, with an expression of pleasure at his return.
"It is," was the reply. "Get up."
There was a candle burning, but the man hastily drew it from the candlestick and hurled it under the grate. Seeing the faint light of early day, without, the girl rose to undraw the curtain.
"Let it be," said Sikes, thrusting his hand before her. "There's light enough for wot I've got to do."
"Bill," said the girl, in a low voice of alarm, "why do you look like that at me?"