43 Oliver Twist - Read By Stephanie Poppins

"Oliver Twist," written by Charles Dickens in the 19th century, tells the story of an orphan boy and his adventures in London's slums. In this episode, there is a shock in the night that disrupts the fragile peace of the darkened city streets, propelling Oliver into unforeseen challenges and encounters.

In this episode, birds of a feather, flock together.

Transcript

Hello.

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to romantic podcast that guarantees you a calm and entertaining transition into a great night's sleep.

Come with me as we immerse ourselves in a romantic journey to a time long since forgotten.

But before we begin,

Let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

Now close your eyes and feel yourself sink deeper into the support beneath you.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Chapter 42 An old acquaintance of Oliver's,

Exhibiting decided marks of genius,

Becomes a public character in the metropolis.

Upon the night when Nancy,

Having lulled Mr.

Sykes to sleep,

Hurried on her self-imposed mission to Rosemaley,

They were advanced towards London by the Great North Road,

Two persons upon whom it is expedient this history should bestow some attention.

They were a man and woman,

Or perhaps they would be better described as a male and female,

For the former was one of those long-limbed,

Knock-kneed,

Shambling,

Bony people,

To whom it is difficult to assign any precise age,

Looking as they do,

When they are yet boys,

Like undergrown men,

And when they are almost men,

Like undergrown boys.

The woman was young but of a robust and hardy make,

As she need have been to wear the weight of the heavy bundle which was strapped to her back.

Her companion was not encumbered with much luggage,

As they're merely dangled from a stick which he carried over his shoulder,

A small parcel wrapped in a common handkerchief,

And apparently light enough.

This circumstance,

Added to the length of his legs,

Which were of unusual extent,

Enabled him with much ease to keep some half-dozen paces in advance of his companion,

To whom he occasionally turned with an impatient jerk of the head,

As if reproaching her tardiness and urging her to great exertion.

Thus they had toiled along the dusty road,

Taking little heed of any object within sight,

Save what they stepped aside to allow a wider passage for the male coaches,

Which were whirling out of town,

Until they passed through Highgate Archway,

When the foremost traveller stopped and called impatiently to his companion.

Come on,

Can't you?

What lazy bones you are,

Charlotte!

It's a heavy load,

I tell you,

Said the female,

Coming up almost breathless with fatigue.

Heavy what you're talking about,

What you're made for!

Oh,

There you are,

He rejoined,

Changing his own little bundle.

If you ain't enough to tire anyone's patience out,

I don't know what is.

Is it much farther?

Said the woman,

Resting herself against a bank.

Much farther,

You're as good as there,

Said the long-legged tramper.

There the lights of London,

Look!

They're a good two mile off,

At least,

Said the woman.

Never mind whether they're two mile off,

Said Noah Cleepole,

For here it was.

But get up and come on,

Or I'll kick you and I'll give you notice.

As Noah's red nose grew redder with anger,

And as he crossed the road while speaking as if fully prepared to put his threat into execution,

The woman rose without any further remark and trudged onward by his side.

Where do you mean to stop for the night,

Noah?

She asked,

After they'd walked a few hundred yards.

How do I know?

Near,

I hope.

Not near,

Not near,

I don't think it.

Why not?

If I tell you I don't mean to do a thing,

That's enough,

Without any why or because either.

It ain't be so cross.

A pretty thing it would be,

Wouldn't it,

To go and stop at the very first public house outside the town,

So that Salbury,

If he came up after us,

Might poke in his old nose and have us taken back in a cart with handcuffs on.

No,

I'll go and lose myself among the narrowest streets I can find,

And I'll not stop till we come to the very out of the wayst house I can set my eyes upon.

Thank my lucky stars I got an ed.

If we ain't gone at first,

And come back away across country,

You'd have been locked up hard and fast a week ago,

My lady,

And serve your right for being such a fool.

Don't put all the blame on me,

Replied Charlotte,

And say I should have been locked up.

You would have been if I'd have been anyway.

It was you who took the money from the till,

You know you did,

Said Mr Cleepole.

I took it for you,

Noah dear,

She rejoined.

But did I keep it,

Added Mr Cleepole.

You trusted in me and let me carry it like a deer,

And so you are,

Said the lady,

Chucking him under the chin,

And drawing her arm through his.

This was indeed the case.

But as it was not Mr Cleepole's habit to repose a blind and foolish confidence in anyone,

It should be observed,

In justice to that gentleman,

He trusted Charlotte to this extent,

In order that if they were pursued,

Their money might be found on her,

Which would leave him an opportunity of asserting his innocence of any theft.

At length,

He stopped in front of a public house,

One more humble in appearance and dirty than he'd ever seen yet.

And having crossed over and surveyed it from the opposite pavement,

Graciously announced his intention of putting up there for the night.

Give us the bundle,

He said,

Unstrapping it from the woman's shoulders and slinging it over his own.

Don't you speak unless you're spoken to.

Now what's the name of the house?

Three what?

Cripples,

Said Charlotte.

After a brief conversation,

They were ushered into the back room.

And Mr Cleepole looked into the port-a-pot he was given with an aspect of deep wisdom.

Having well shaken its contents,

He nodded condescendingly to Charlotte and took a draught,

Wherewith he appeared greatly refreshed.

He was meditating another when the sudden opening of the door in the appearance of a stranger interrupted him.

The stranger was Mr Fagin,

And very amiable he looked.

A very low bow he made as he advanced.

And he set himself down at the nearest table and ordered something to drink of the grinning barman.

Pleasant night,

Sir,

But cool for this time of year,

He said,

Rubbing his hands.

From the country I see,

Sir.

How do you say that?

Asked Noah Cleepole.

We've not so much dust as that in London,

Replied Fagin.

You're a sharp fella,

Said Noah.

Hear that,

Charlotte?

One need to be sharp in this town,

My dear,

Replied the Jew,

And that's the truth.

Fagin followed up this remark by striking the side of his nose with his right forefinger.

A gesture which Noah attempted to imitate,

Though not with complete success,

In consequence of his own nose not being large enough for the purpose.

However,

Mr Fagin seemed to interpret the endeavour as expressing a perfect coincidence with his opinion,

And put about the liquor which the barman appeared with in a very friendly manner.

Good stuff,

That,

Observed Mr Cleepole,

Smacking his lips.

Dear,

Said Fagin,

A man need always be emptying a till,

A pocket,

Or a woman's reticule,

Or a house,

Or a mail coach,

Or a bank,

If he drinks it regularly.

Mr Cleepole no sooner heard this extract from his own remarks than he fell back in his chair.

Hadn't he just been saying the same thing to Charlotte?

Don't mind me,

My dear,

Said Fagin,

Drawing his chair closer.

It was lucky it was only me that overheard you.

By chance,

It was lucky it was only me.

I didn't take it,

Stammered Noah,

No longer stretching out his legs like an independent gentleman,

But coiling them up as well as he could under his chair.

It was all we're doing.

You got it now,

Charlotte.

You know you have.

No matter who's got it or who did it,

My dear,

Replied Fagin,

Glancing nevertheless with a hawk's eye at the girl and the two bundles.

I'm in that way myself,

And I like you for it.

In what way?

Asked Mr Cleepole,

A little recovering.

In that way of business.

And so are the people of this house.

You've hit the right place here.

You're as safe as you could be.

There's not a safer place in all this town than is the Cripples.

That is when I like to make it so.

And I take it a fancy to you in this,

Young woman.

So I said the word,

And you may make your minds easy.

Noah Cleepole's mind might have been at ease after this assurance,

But his body was certainly not.

He shuffled and writhed about into various uncouth positions,

Eyeing his new friend,

Meanwhile,

With mingled fear and suspicion.

I'll tell you more,

Said Fagin.

I've got a friend I think I can gratify your darling wish and put you in the right way,

Where you can take whatever department of the business you think will suit you.

Serve you best at first,

And be taught all the others.

Do speak as if you were in earnest,

Said Noah.

What advantage would it be to me to be anything else?

Inquired Fagin.

Here,

Let me have a word with you outside.

There's no occasion to trouble ourselves to move,

Said Noah,

Getting his legs by gradual degrees abroad again.

She'll take the luggage upstairs the while,

Won't you,

Charlotte?

See to them bundles.

This mandate,

Which had been delivered with great majesty,

Was obeyed without the slightest demur.

And Charlotte made the best of her way off with the packages,

While Noah held the door open and watched her out.

Now,

What do you think,

Said Fagin?

If you was to like my friend,

Could you do better than join him?

Is he in a good way of business?

That's where it is,

Responded Noah.

The top of the tree employs the power of hands as the very best society in the profession.

Regular tailmaiders,

Asked Mr Cleeple,

Not a countryman among them.

Should I have to hand over,

Said Noah,

Slapping his breeches pocket.

It could possibly be done without,

Replied Fagin.

Twenty pound,

Though,

Is a lot of money.

Not when it's in a note you can't get rid of,

Retorted Fagin.

Number and date taken,

I suppose,

Payment stopped at the bank.

It's not much worth to him.

It'll have to go abroad,

And he couldn't sell it for a great deal in the market.

When could I see him?

Tomorrow morning.

Where?

Here.

And what's the wages?

Live like a gentleman.

Bold and lodging,

Pipes and spirits free.

Half of all you earn,

And half of all the young woman earns.

But you see,

Observed Noah,

She'll be able to do a good deal.

I'd like to take something very light.

A little fancy work.

Oh,

Something of that sort,

Said Noah.

What do you think would suit me now?

Something not too trying for the strength and not too dangerous,

You know.

That's the sort of thing I like.

Mmm,

Said Fagin.

My friend wants somebody who'd do that well.

Very much.