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Although
Oliver
had
enough
to
occupy
his
attention
in
keeping
sight
of
his
leader
,
he
could
not
help
bestowing
a
few
hasty
glances
on
either
side
of
the
way
,
as
he
passed
along
.
A
dirtier
or
more
wretched
place
he
had
never
seen
.
The
street
was
very
narrow
and
muddy
,
and
the
air
was
impregnated
with
filthy
odours
.
There
were
a
good
many
small
shops
;
but
the
only
stock
in
trade
appeared
to
be
heaps
of
children
,
who
,
even
at
that
time
of
night
,
were
crawling
in
and
out
at
the
doors
,
or
screaming
from
the
inside
.
The
sole
places
that
seemed
to
prosper
amid
the
general
blight
of
the
place
,
were
the
public-houses
;
and
in
them
,
the
lowest
orders
of
Irish
were
wrangling
with
might
and
main
.
Covered
ways
and
yards
,
which
here
and
there
diverged
from
the
main
street
,
disclosed
little
knots
of
houses
,
where
drunken
men
and
women
were
positively
wallowing
in
filth
;
and
from
several
of
the
door-ways
,
great
ill-looking
fellows
were
cautiously
emerging
,
bound
,
to
all
appearance
,
on
no
very
well-disposed
or
harmless
errands
.
Oliver
was
just
considering
whether
he
had
n't
better
run
away
,
when
they
reached
the
bottom
of
the
hill
.
His
conductor
,
catching
him
by
the
arm
,
pushed
open
the
door
of
a
house
near
Field
Lane
;
and
drawing
him
into
the
passage
,
closed
it
behind
them
.
'
Now
,
then
!
'
cried
a
voice
from
below
,
in
reply
to
a
whistle
from
the
Dodger
.
'
Plummy
and
slam
!
'
was
the
reply
.
This
seemed
to
be
some
watchword
or
signal
that
all
was
right
;
for
the
light
of
a
feeble
candle
gleamed
on
the
wall
at
the
remote
end
of
the
passage
;
and
a
man
's
face
peeped
out
,
from
where
a
balustrade
of
the
old
kitchen
staircase
had
been
broken
away
.
'
There
's
two
on
you
,
'
said
the
man
,
thrusting
the
candle
farther
out
,
and
shielding
his
eyes
with
his
hand
.
'
Who
's
the
t
'
other
one
?
'
'
A
new
pal
,
'
replied
Jack
Dawkins
,
pulling
Oliver
forward
.
'
Where
did
he
come
from
?
'
