In the obscure parlour of a low public-house, in the filthiest part ofLittle Saffron Hill; a dark and gloomy den, where a flaring gas-lightburnt all day in the winter-time; and where no ray of sun ever shone inthe summer: there sat, brooding over a little pewter measure and a smallglass, strongly impregnated with the smell of liquor, a man in a velvet-een coat, drab shorts, half boots and stockings, who even by that dimlight no experienced agent of police would have hesitated to recognise asMr. William Sikes. At his feet, sat a white-coated, red-eyed dog; whooccupied himself, alternately, in winking at his master with both eyes atthe same time; and in licking a large, fresh cut on one side of hismouth, which appeared to be the result of some recent conflict.
"Keep quiet, you warmint ! Keep quiet !"said Mr. Sikes, suddenlybreaking silence. Whether his meditations were so intense as to be dis-turbed by the dog's winking, or whether his feelings were so wrought up-on by, his reflections that they required all the relief derivable from kic-king an unoffending animal to allay them, is matter for argument andconsideration. Whatever was the cause, the effect was a kick and acurse, bestowed upon the dog simultaneously.
Dogs are not generally apt to revenge injuries inflicted upon them bytheir masters; but Mr. Sikes's dog, having faults of temper in commonwith his owner, and labouring, perhaps at this moment, under a power-ful sense of injury, made no more ado but at once fixed his teeth in oneof the half-boots. Having given it a hearty shake, he retired, growling,under a form; just escaping the pewter measure which Mr. Sikes lev-elled at his head.
"You would, would you?"said Sikes, seizing the poker in one hand,and deliberately opening with the other a large clasp knife, which hedrew from his pocket. "Come here, you born devil! Come here! D'yehear?"
The dog no doubt heard; because Mr. Sikes spoke in the very hars-hest key of a very harsh voice; but, appearing to entertain some unac-countable objection to having his throat cut, he remained where he was,and growled more fiercely than before: at the same time grasping the endof the poker between his teeth, and biting at it like a wild beast.
This resistance only infuriated Mr. Sikes the more; who, dropping onhis knees, began to assail the animal most furiously. The dog jumpedfrom right to left, and from left to right: snapping, growling, and bar-king; the man thrust and swore, and struck and blasphemed; and thestruggle was reaching a most critical point for one or other; when, thedoor suddenly opening, the dog darted out: leaving Bill Sikes with thepoker and the clasp knife in his hands.
P139-140
