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“首先，费金，”这位入室抢劫的老手说道，“比尔怎么了？” 'What!' screamed the Jew, starting from his seat. “啊！”老犹太一声惊叫，从座位上跳了起来。 'Why, you don't mean to say--' began Toby, turning pale. “嗳，你该不会是想说--”说话时托比的脸唰地变白了。 'Mean!' cried the Jew, stamping furiously on the ground. 'Where are they? Sikes and the boy! Where are they? Where have they been? Where are they hiding? Why have they not been here?' “想说！”费金叫喊着，怒不可遏地跺着地面。“他们哪儿去了？赛克斯跟那孩子。他们哪儿去了？到什么地方去了？” 'The crack failed,' said Toby faintly. “买卖搞砸了。”托比有气无力地说。 
“我就知道，”老犹太从衣袋里扯出一张报纸，指着报纸说。“还有呢？” 'They fired and hit the boy. We cut over the fields at the back, with him between us--straight as the crow flies--through hedge and ditch. They gave chase. Damme! the whole country was awake, and the dogs upon us.' “他们开了枪，打中了那孩子。我们俩架着他穿过野地--直端端的，就像乌鸦飞过一样--翻过篱笆，水沟，他们还在追。妈的。全国的人都醒过来了，狗也在后边撵。” 'The boy!' “说那个孩子。” 'Bill had him on his back, and scudded like the wind. We stopped to take him between us; his head hung down, and he was cold. They were close upon our heels; every man for himself, and each from the gallows! We parted company, and left the youngster lying in a ditch. Alive or dead, that's all I know about him.' “比尔把他背在背上，跑得飞快，跟一阵风似的。后来我们停下来，把他放在我们中间，他脑袋搭拉着，身上冷冰冰的。那些人眼看着就要追上我们了，人人为自已，谁都不想上绞刑架。我们就散伙了，把小家伙丢在一个水沟里，也不知道是死是活，我知道的就这些了。” The Jew stopped to hear no more; but uttering a loud yell, and twining his hands in his hair, rushed from the room, and from the house. 费金没再听他说下去一只是大吼一声，双手扯着头发，冲出房间，跑出大门去了。 
费金老头一直跑到街角，才开始从托比·格拉基特带来的消息造成的影响中回过神来。他丝毫也没有放慢自己异乎寻常的脚步，仍然疯疯癫癫地向前跑去。突然，一辆马车从他身边疾驶而过，行人见他险些葬身车底都不约而同地大叫起来，他这才吓得回到人行道上。老犹太尽量绕开繁华街道，躲躲闪闪地溜过一条条小路狭巷，最后来到了斯诺山。到了这里，他的步子迈得更快了，他毫不拖延，又折进了一条短巷。直到这时，他好像才意识到已经进入了自己的地盘，便又恢复了平日那副懒洋洋的步态，呼吸似乎也比较自由了。 Near to the spot on which Snow Hill and Holborn Hill meet, opens, upon the right hand as you come out of the City, a narrow and dismal alley, leading to Saffron Hill. In its filthy shops are exposed for sale huge bunches of second-hand silk handkerchiefs, of all sizes and patterns; for here reside the traders who purchase them from pick-pockets. Hundreds of these handkerchiefs hang dangling from pegs outside the windows or flaunting from the door-posts; and the shelves, within, are piled with them. Confined as the limits of Field Lane are, it has its barber, its coffee-shop, its beer-shop, and its fried-fish warehouse. It is a commercial colony of itself: the emporium of petty larceny: visited at early morning, and setting-in of dusk, by silent merchants, who traffic in dark back-parlours, and who go as strangely as they come. Here, the clothesman, the shoe-vamper, and the rag-merchant, display their goods, as sign-boards to the petty thief; here, stores of old iron and bones, and heaps of mildewy fragments of woollen-stuff and linen, rust and rot in the grimy cellars. 在斯诺山与霍尔本山相交的地方，就是从伦敦老城出来往右边走，有一条狭窄阴暗的巷子通往红花山。巷内好几家肮脏的铺子里都摆着一扎扎种类齐全、花色繁多的旧丝手绢，从小偷手里收购这些东西的商贩就住在铺子里。千百条手中在窗外的竹钉上晃来晃去，或者在门柱上迎风招展，货架上也放满了手巾。这里虽说和菲尔胡同一样狭窄闭塞，却也有自己的理发店、咖啡馆、啤酒店和卖煎鱼的小店。这是一个自成体系的商业区，小偷小摸的销赃市场。从清晨到黄昏来临，都有一些沉默寡言的商贩在这一带逛游，他们在黑黝黝的后厢房里洽谈生意，离去时也和来的时候一样神秘莫测。在这里，裁缝、鞋匠、收破烂的都把各自的货物摆出来，这对小偷来说无异于广告牌。污秽的地窖里囤积着废旧铁器、骨制品、成堆的毛麻织品的边角零料，散发着霉臭味，正在生锈腐烂。 It was into this place that the Jew turned. He was well known to the sallow denizens of the lane; for such of them as were on the look-out to buy or sell, nodded, familiarly, as he passed along. He replied to their salutations in the same way; but bestowed no closer recognition until he reached the further end of the alley; when he stopped, to address a salesman of small stature, who had squeezed as much of his person into a child's chair as the chair would hold, and was smoking a pipe at his warehouse door. 费金老头儿正是拐进了这个地方。他跟胡同里那些面黄肌瘦的住户十分熟识，走过去的时候，好些正在店铺门口做买卖的人都亲热地向他点头致意，他也同样点头回礼，只此而已，没有多的话。他一直走到这条胡同的尽头才停住脚步，跟一个身材瘦小的店家打招呼，那人硬挤在一把儿童座椅里，正坐在店门日抽烟斗。 'Why, the sight of you, Mr. Fagin, would cure the hoptalymy!' said this respectable trader, in acknowledgment of the Jew's inquiry after his health. “嗳，只要一看到你，费金先生，瞎子也能开眼。”这位可敬的买卖人说着，对老犹太向自己请安表示感谢。 'The neighbourhood was a little too hot, Lively,' said Fagin, elevating his eyebrows, and crossing his hands upon his shoulders. “这一带也太热了点，莱渥里。”费金扬起眉毛，双手交叉搭在胳臂上，说道。 
“是啊，我听说过这种牢骚，有一两次了，”老板回答，“不过很快就会凉下来的，你没发觉是这么回事？” Fagin nodded in the affirmative. Pointing in the direction of Saffron Hill, he inquired whether any one was up yonder to-night. 费金赞同地点了一下头，指着红花山方向问，今晚有没有人上那边去。 'At the Cripples?' inquired the man. “你说的是瘸子酒店？”那人问道。 The Jew nodded. 老犹太点了点头。 'Let me see,' pursued the merchant, reflecting. “我想想，”老板想了一会儿，接着说道， 
“有的，总有六七个人上那儿去了，据我所知。你朋友好像不在那儿。” 'Sikes is not, I suppose?' inquired the Jew, with a disappointed countenance. “没看见赛克斯，是吗？”老犹太带着一脸的失望问道。 'Non istwentus, as the lawyers say,' replied the little man, shaking his head, and looking amazingly sly. 'Have you got anything in my line to-night?' “用律师的说法，并未在场，”小个子摇摇头，说了一句蹩脚的拉丁语，样子十分阴险。“今晚你有什么货要给我？” 'Nothing to-night,' said the Jew, turning away. “今晚没有。”老犹太说罢转身走了。 'Are you going up to the Cripples, Fagin?' cried the little man, calling after him. 'Stop! I don't mind if I have a drop there with you!' “费金，你是不是上瘤子店去？”小个子在后边叫他，“等一等。就算在那儿陪你喝两盅也行。” 
老犹太只是扭头看了一眼，挥了挥手，表示自己情愿一个人去，再说了，那小个子要从椅子上挣脱出来也确实不容易，所以这一次瘸子酒店就失去了莱握里先生会同前往的荣幸。当他好不容易站立起来时，老犹太已经消失了。莱渥里先生踞起脚尖，满心以为还能看见他的人影，可希望落空了。他只得又把身子挤进小椅子里，跟对面铺子里一位太太彼此点头致意，其中显然搀和着种种猜疑和不信任，然后又派头十足地叼起了烟斗。 The Three Cripples, or rather the Cripples; which was the sign by which the establishment was familiarly known to its patrons: was the public-house in which Mr. Sikes and his dog have already figured. Merely making a sign to a man at the bar, Fagin walked straight upstairs, and opening the door of a room, and softly insinuating himself into the chamber, looked anxiously about: shading his eyes with his hand, as if in search of some particular person. 三瘸子，是一家酒店的招牌，一班常客习惯上管它叫瘸子店，赛克斯先生和他的狗已经在这家酒店露过面。费金跟酒吧里的一个男人打了个手势，就照直上楼，打开一扇房门，悄悄溜了进去。他用一只手挡住亮光，焦急地向四周看了看，看样子是在找人。
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