though she pleaded with
him pitifully to come with her to some foreign country (as Miss Rose had
begged her to do), where they might both lead better lives. Fury had
made him mad. As she clung to his knees, he seized a heavy club and
struck her down.

So poor Nancy died, with only time for a feeble prayer to God for mercy.

Of all bad deeds that Sikes had ever done, that was the worst. The sun
shone through the window and lit the room where Nancy lay. He tried to
shut it out, but he could not. He grew suddenly afraid. Horror came
upon him. He crept out of the room, locked the door behind him, and
plunged into the crowded street.

He walked for miles and miles, here and there, without purpose.
Whichever way he went he could not rid himself of that horror. When
night came he crawled into a disused shed, but he could not sleep.
Whenever he closed his eyes he seemed to see Nancy's eyes looking at
him. He got up and wandered on again, desperately lonely for some one to
talk to.

He heard a man telling another about the murder as he read the account
in a newspaper, and knew that he must hide. He hastened then to a den he
knew in a house beside the river, dirty and dismal and the haunt of
thieves. Some of his old companions were there, but even they shrank
from him.

He had been seen to enter the place, however, and in a few minutes the
street was full of people, all yelling for his capture. He barred the
doors and windows, but they began to break down the shutters with
sledge-hammers.

He ran to the roof with a rope, thinking to let himself down on the side
next the river and so escape. Here he fastened one end of the rope to
the chimney, and, making a loop in the other end, put it over his head.

Just at that instant he imagined he saw Nancy's eyes again looking at
him. He staggered back in terror, missed his footing, and fell over the
edge of the roof. He had not had time to draw the noose down under his
arms, so that it slipped up around his neck, and there he hung, dead,
with a broken neck.

Meanwhile Mr. Brownlow had acted very quickly, so that Monks had got no
warning. He had had men watching for the latter and now, having found
out all he wanted to know, he had him seized in the street, put into a
coach and driven to his office, where he brought him face to face with
Oliver.

The old gentleman told Monks he could do one of two things: either he
could confess before witnesses the whole infamous plot he had