s Oliver was kept a prisoner. He was free to wander about
the mildewed old house, but every outer door was locked and every window
had closed iron shutters. All the light came in through small round
holes at the top, which made the rooms gloomy and full of shadows.
Spiderwebs were over all the walls, and often the mice would go
scampering across the floor. There was only one window to look out of,
and that was in a back garret, but it had iron bars and looked out only
on to the housetops.

He found only one book to read: this was a history of the lives of great
criminals and was full of stories of secret thefts and murders. For the
old Jew, having tortured his mind by loneliness and gloom, had left the
volume in his way, hoping it would instil into his soul the poison that
would blacken it for ever.

But Oliver's blood ran cold as he read, and he pushed the book away in
horror, and, falling on his knees, prayed that he might be spared from
such deeds and rescued from that terrible place.

He was still on his knees when Nancy came in and told him he must get
ready at once to go on a journey with Bill Sikes. She had been crying
and her face was bruised as though she had been beaten. Oliver saw she
was very sorry for him, and, indeed, she told him she would help him if
she could, but that there was no use trying to escape now, because they
were watched all the time, and if he got away Sikes would certainly kill
her.

Nancy took him to the house where Sikes lived, and the next morning the
latter started out, making Oliver go with him. Sikes had a loaded pistol
in his overcoat pocket, and he showed this to Oliver and told him if he
spoke to anybody on the road or tried to get away he would shoot him
with it.

They walked a long way out of London, once or twice riding in carts
which were going in their direction. Whenever this happened Sikes kept
his hand in the pocket where the pistol was, so that Oliver was afraid
to appeal for help. Late at night they came to an old deserted mansion
in the country, and in the basement of this, where a fire had been
kindled, they joined two other men whom Oliver had seen more than once
in Fagin's house in London.

The journey had been cold and long and Oliver was very hungry, but he
could scarcely eat the supper that was given him for fear of what they
intended to do with him in that lonely spot. He was so tired, however,
that he finally went fast asleep and knew nothing more till tw