'On your business, my dear,' replied the Jew, glancing uneasilyat his companion, and slackening his pace as he spoke.  'On yourbusiness all night.'

　　'Oh, of course!' said the stranger, with a sneer.  'Well; andwhat's come of it?'

　　'Nothing good,' said the Jew.

　　'Nothing bad, I hope?' said the stranger, stopping short, andturning a startled look on his companion.

　　The Jew shook his head, and was about to reply, when thestranger, interrupting him, motioned to the house, before whichthey had by this time arrived:  remarking, that he had better saywhat he had got to say, under cover:  for his blood was chilledwith standing about so long, and the wind blew through him.

　　Fagin looked as if he could have willingly excused himself fromtaking home a visitor at that unseasonable hour; and, indeed,muttered something about having no fire; but his companionrepeating his request in a peremptory manner, he unlocked thedoor, and requested him to close it softly, while he got a light.

　　'It's as dark as the grave,' said the man, groping forward a fewsteps.  'Make haste!'

　　'Shut the door,' whispered Fagin from the end of the passage. Ashe spoke, it closed with a loud noise.

　　'That wasn't my doing,' said the other man, feeling his way. 'Thewind blew it to, or it shut of its own accord: one or the other.Look sharp with the light, or I shall knock my brains out againstsomething in this confounded hole.'

　　Fagin stealthily descended the kitchen stairs.  After a shortabsence, he returned with a lighted candle, and the intelligencethat Toby Crackit was asleep in the back room below, and that theboys were in the front one.  Beckoning the man to follow him, heled the way upstairs.

　　'We can say the few words we've got to say in here, my dear,'said the Jew, throwing open a door on the first floor; 'and asthere are holes in the shutters, and we never show lights to ourneighbours, we'll set the candle on the stairs.  There!'