December 7, 1828
... The lunch proved to be a great moral booster. We all arrived back home at two and several of the boys left for "work." The house was fairly quiet now and I could sit down and think through things properly.
Nancy had written the note. Did she still want to be rescued? She had left pretty suddenly and that seemed a bit strange...was she going to tell Bill? Was she only pretending? I now remembered reading a book once in which the main character awoke one morning and found his name on the wall written in blood. Each succeeding night, a letter was erased until the name was gone. Then, the man was stabbed to death - for me, it would be shot to death! I tried to push this thought out of my head. It couldn't be, after all... Nancy had appeared honestly distressed... She seemed very nice... was niceness something I could count on? My head said 'no.'
The Dodger came into the kitchen, carrying the wooden box that he had taken earlier. He quickly replaced it on the shelf and turned around to head back up the stairs.
"Hold on Dodge. What were you doing with that?" I gave a slightly disapproving look.
"Nothin' worth yer know'n," he simply replied.
"Can I see the box?"
"Sure..," he grabbed it off the shelf and handed it over. I looked inside, but it was only full of handkerchiefs.
I pulled one out and examined it, "taking out the monograms?" I asked after seeing many small holes in one of the corners.
"Yes sir," Dodge smiled and tipped his hat slightly in mock politeness.
I grinned at him and pulled my wallet out of my trousers. I then handed him three pounds in coins and he smiled all the more brighter, "For telling on Nance," I added.
"Thanks," and with that, he tilted his head towards me and made his way out of the room.
----
At around four, Fagin returned.
I had been reading out of a book that I had found in one of the rooms. It was a horrible book on famous murders and it made my blood chill. I was in the middle of the seventh chapter - one that was especially bloody. About a man who was killed by the piercing of something sharp through his middle - when, the elderly gentleman loomed into my peripheral vision, fire poker in hand. Before I could stop myself, I screamed.
All the children that had stayed behind came running down the stairs. It must have been quite an alarming picture - Fagin bent over me with the fire poker in his right hand and I, crouched down in the chair with a startled look in my face and with my chest rapidly rising and falling.
Fagin stepped backward a few paces, "My dear, I didn't mean to startle you...I was tending the fire and wanted to ask if you would please get some more firewood out of the cellar."
Some of the children giggled ( Charlie being one of them ) and then they went back upstairs. Only the Dodger and Charlie stayed behind. They sat down at the table and began to play cards.
I put the book down and headed for the cellar.
The cellar was down below and was accessed by a trapdoor. It was cold and the walls were covered with moisture. I was just reaching to grab the first log when, I heard voices.
"What is it, my dear?"
"Top secret stuff," came Dodge's voice from above.
"Is it too secret, my dear?" I heard something metal hit the ground. I guessed that the elderly gentleman had tapped the floor with the poker as a threat.
"No... it's jus' that... Nance is trying to peach on us."
At that, I ran back out of the cellar as fast as I could...
Hello! Thanks for reading my story! Please leave a review. I know this chapter is kind of boring, but it will get much better in the next one! - Elaine Dawkins