December 17, 1828

. . . Fagin sat down in a chair and began to do some monetary calculations. After a while, he paused and removed his glasses to look at a clock on the wall, "My dear," he addressed me, "go light a candle and wait in the passage for a while."

I did as I was told. I grabbed a candle from a drawer, trimmed the wick, lit it, and headed into the dark passage. I leant against a wall and waited. A couple of minutes later, the bell rang. I opened the door and there were Bill and Nancy on the doorstep.

"Hi ya," said Bill.

"Come on in," I led them into the kitchen.

Fagin had put away the ink and paper, "Come in, come in, my dears. Sit down. Tom," he glanced over at me, "go mix Bill a drink, will you?"

Bill opened a suitcase that he had brought, "Here's yer share of the plunder." he addressed Fagin, "A silv'r tea service an' a couple of leather-bound books."

Fagin came over and began to examine them. A minute later, he paused with a thoughtful countenance on his face.

"Not satisfactory?" asked Bill.

"They would make some very good money, Fagin," chimed in Nancy.

"The girls right," added Bill, "Rich people love this sort o' stuff."

"I know that as well as you do, my dears, but . . ,"

"Yer ill," commented Bill. He eyed Fagin narrowly, "What happ'ned to yer arm?"

"Fire poker wound, my dears," Fagin lied. He looked a bit nervous at this point.

"Are you alright?" asked Nancy, "Who did that to you?!"

("Prob'ly did it to himself. Bound to have happ'ned someday," Bill commented more to himself than to anyone in the room.)

"I will answer no questions," said Fagin, flatly. He glanced over at me and grinned. Then, he continued, "I am not interested in those items. I have decided to retire."

"WHAT?!!!!" yelled Bill, "BUT, YER ARE RETIRED!" Bill stood up suddenly like he had sat on a spring.

"Bill, hush," Nancy laid her hand on his shoulder. He brushed it off and she fell silent, looking down at her feet.

"YER'VE BEEN RETIRED FOR AGES! YER DON'T WORK! WE WORK, THE BOYS WORK; YER DON'T!!!" Bill paused to catch is breath. Fagin had backed away almost against the wall. I was getting extremely nervous. Fagin was going to end up dead any minute if this continued much longer. I looked over at Nancy and she met my gaze. She then set to the task of stealing Bills pistol out of his pocket. Bill was in such a riled state that he didn't even notice her take the gun and stow it away in her own pocket.

Good going, Nance. I thought. Use it to get away from Bill. You now have the key; open the door and escape!

"I simply meant Bill, my dear, that I am retiring from the business of caring for pick-pockets and burglars. I want to live alone, travel, . . just relax! You can go on in your business; I just don't want to be a part of it anymore."

Bill looked stunned, "What 'bout the boys?" was all he could say.

"I know you don't want them Bill; they will go to an orphanage. It's simple. You can have the house if you like. I don't care," he paused, "I won't peach, my dears, because if I peach, someone else will peach on me. I am saving my own skin as much as I am saving yours. That is all, you may go now."

"Come on, Bill," Nancy led Bill out of the room. He was too surprised to move of his own accord.

"What happened?" I asked Fagin once they had gone.

"I was thinking back to that little vacation I took a couple of weeks ago. I enjoyed it so much that I want to continue it to my death," he finished Bills drink and began to scrub the glass afterwards.

"Are you really going to go alone?"

"Probably, my dear. Probably."

- - - - - - - - - -

The boys showed up at lunchtime. They were all carrying parcels. Fagin told them to carry the presents into the living room (this was the opposite side of the kitchen; the area with the sofa and the wooden rocker).

"Sit down,my dears," Fagin sat down in the rocker, "We are going to do Christmas early this year . . ."

"Yay!!" cried Charlie, "How early?"

"I was just getting to that, my dear," Fagin tussled Charlie's hair, "Today is our pre-Christmas gift exchange. We will open gifts."

At these words, wrapping paper flew!

"Wow, a snuff-box!" Charlie was ecstatic! He shoved it in everyone's face and danced around the room.

"It's empty," said Dodge. He gave Charlie a what's-so-fantastic-about-that expression and rolled his eyes to the sky.

"Better than the scarf you got," pointed out Charlie, "That's a dumb gift."

"Hay!" Robert gave Charlie a dirty look, "I bought that. And it's imported material from India!"

"That is very nice, my dear!" cried Fagin.

Robert stuck his tongue out at Charlie when Fagin wasn't looking.

"Here," Charlie handed Robert a small box.

Robert tore it to shreds and then looked solemnly at the contents.

"What is it, my dear," Fagin peered over Robert's shoulder.

"He, he, he got me. . . UNDERWEAR!"

The other boys screamed with glee at this finding.

"I'm never buying you a gift again, Charlie!" Robert looked very upset. He skidded the box over toward Dodge, "you can have it. I don't want it."

"Robert, my dear," interposed Fagin, "Charlie paid good money for that. You should be thankful."

Robert didn't answer and Fagin gave up persuading. Charlie didn't seem hurt or surprised anyway. I suppose that seeing Robert end up with nothing was just as good as Robert ending up with an embarrassing gift.

After everyone had opened their gifts, Fagin announced that they were going to go for a carriage ride through the snow. Dodger was incredulous the whole time and seemed ill-disposed to even leave the house.

"Come on Dodge, my dear. There is nothing to be afraid of. Ha, ha, ha! We are just going for a joy ride."

"No, thank you," replied Dodge. He slumped onto the couch and made like he would take a nap.

"If Dodge is staying," said Charlie, the loyal one, "I'm staying, too."

"Fine, my dears. You'll just miss out," Fagin motioned for me to follow and we headed outside with the rest of the boys. I remembered that it was the Dodger that had alerted me to the fact that Fagin had let go of some of the boys previously. He probably had a good idea where these one's were headed and felt threatened at the prospect. Charlie had probably caught on, too. Therefore, they both decided to not leave the house for anything. The other children were too interested in having fun to even be wary or cautious. I began to wonder what Fagin would do to get rid of them . . .

Transitional Chapter. It is slightly funny (I hope). What will Fagin do with the children? Hmm . . . Who knows? Please leave some feedback. I think this story is not so close to the end as I thought it was. - Elaine Dawkins