ok-stall. I saw
three boys loitering on the opposite side of the way when this gentleman
was reading. The robbery was committed by another boy. I saw it done; and
I saw that this boy was perfectly amazed and stupified by it!"

Having by this time recovered a little breath, the bookstall keeper
proceeded to relate in a more coherent manner the exact circumstances of
the robbery, in consequence of which explanation Oliver Twist was
discharged, and carried off, still white and faint, in a coach, by the
kind-hearted old gentleman whose name was Brownlow, who seemed to feel
himself responsible for the boy's condition, and resolved to have him
cared for in his own home.

After Charley Bates and the Dodger had seen Oliver dragged away by the
police officer, they scoured off with great rapidity. Coming to a halt
Master Bates burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

"What's the matter?" inquired the Dodger.

"I can't help it," said Charley, "I can't help it! To see him splitting
away at that pace, and cutting round the corners, and knocking up against
the posts, and starting on again as if he was made of iron, and me with
the wipe in my pocket, singing out arter him--oh, my eye!" The vivid
imagination of Master Bates presented the scene before him in too strong
colours, and he rolled upon a door-step and laughed louder than before.

"What'll Fagin say?" inquired the Dodger, and the question sobered Master
Bates at once, as both boys stood in great dread of the Jew. And their
worst fears were realised. Fagin was livid with rage at the loss of his
promising pupil, as well as fearful of the disclosures he might make.
After long consultation on the subject, it was agreed by the band that
Nancy was to go to the police station in a disguised dress, to find out
what had been done with Oliver, for whom she was to search as her "dear
little lost brother."

Meanwhile Oliver lay for many days burning with fever and unconscious of
his surroundings, in the quietly comfortable home of Mr. Brownlow at
Pentonville. At length, weak, and thin, and pallid, he awoke from what
seemed a dream, and found himself being nursed by Mrs. Bedwin, Mr.
Brownlow's motherly old house-keeper, and visited constantly by the
doctor. Gradually he grew stronger, and soon could sit up a little. Those
were happy, peaceful days of his recovery, the only happy ones he had ever
known. Everybody was so kind and gentle that it seemed like Heaven itself,
as he sa