er the cowardly tormentor who now lay
crouching at his feet; and defied him with an energy he had never known
before.

"He'll murder me!" blubbered Noah. "Charlotte! missis! Here's the new
boy a-murdering of me! Help! help! Oliver's gone mad! Char--lotte!"

Noah's shouts were responded to by a loud scream from Charlotte and a
louder from Mrs. Sowerberry; the former of whom rushed into the kitchen
by a side-door, while the latter paused on the staircase till she was
quite certain that it was safe to come farther down.

"Oh, you little wretch!" screamed Charlotte, seizing Oliver with her
utmost force, which was about equal to that of a moderately strong man
in particularly good training. "Oh, you little un-grate-ful,
mur-de-rous, hor-rid villain!" And between every syllable Charlotte gave
Oliver a blow with all her might.

Charlotte's fist was by no means a light one; and Mrs. Sowerberry
plunged into the kitchen and assisted to hold him with one hand, while
she scratched his face with the other. In this favorable position of
affairs, Noah rose from the ground and pommeled him behind.

When they were all wearied out, and could tear and beat no longer, they
dragged Oliver, struggling and shouting, but nothing daunted, into the
dust-cellar, and there locked him up. This being done, Mrs. Sowerberry
sunk into a chair and burst into tears.

"Oh! Charlotte," said Mrs. Sowerberry. "Oh! Charlotte, what a mercy we
have not all been murdered in our beds!"

"Ah! mercy indeed, ma'am," was the reply. "I only hope this'll teach
master not to have any more of these dreadful creatures, that are born
to be murderers and robbers from their very cradle. Poor Noah! he was
all but killed, ma'am, when I come in."

"Poor fellow!" said Mrs. Sowerberry, looking piteously on the
charity-boy.

"What's to be done!" exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. "Your master's not at
home; there's not a man in the house, and he'll kick that door down in
ten minutes." Oliver's vigorous plunges against the door did seem as if
he would break it.

"Dear, dear! I don't know, ma'am," said Charlotte, "unless we send for
the police officers."

"Or the millingtary," suggested Noah.

"No, no," said Mrs. Sowerberry: bethinking herself of Oliver's old
friend. "Run to Mr. Bumble, Noah, and tell him to come here directly,
and not to lose a minute; never mind your cap! Make haste!"

Noah set off with all his might, and paused not once for breath until he
reached the wo