The Artful Dodger

Chapter 12

The next morning dawned brightly, and the Dodger pulled Rose out of bed early to grab breakfast before the long day ahead. Neither were particularly hungry, and so they waited in silence for Fagin and the other boys to rise. After a while, the man stirred and exited his den.

"Mornin'."

"Mornin' sir." said Dodger and Rose.

"Glad to see you up early, you can leave soon, before the boys wake up an' start fussing." said Fagin.

They nodded solemnly and ate their bread, which tasted like cardboard.

Fagin started to fry sausages in his little corner. After a while he saw that Dodger and Rose were finished, and poked his head out.

"Nancy should'a been here by now, but never mind. You two go, make sure yer run straight here an' tell me if we're in trouble!" said the old Jew, ushering them out.

Dodger knew the way to the courthouse well, for he remembered several trials he had been forced to attend for Fagin before. Luckily, he had never been called up, but the possibility was getting closer every day, with every robbery he carried out. They walked in silence much of the way, through the grimy streets. After 30 minutes, the uncouth crowds bartering in all the marketplaces were getting thinner, and the streets wider and cleaner. This part of London was nicer, but the courthouse stuck out like a sore thumb, because of all the ragged people sitting on the steps waiting to fight some case or another. Peter was not among them, for he had been arrested rather than called to court.

Dodger and Rose walked quickly and carefully between them. There was a short, fat man at the entrance, wearing a blue uniform.

"Admission here. What case are you up for?" he asked them, almost bored.

"None, we're audience. Can we watch the Quarter session please?" asked Dodger confidently.

"Do you have relations with any of the accused? asked the man suspiciously.

"No, sir, I don't know anyone. I'm interested in studying law, you see. I like watching trials." said the Dodger brightly.

The man nodded briefly and stepped aside. He didn't quite believe the short boy in the top hat, but hadn't wanted to bother himself with a scene, so he leaned back on the door and shut his eyes, ready to enjoy a short standing nap.

Dodger and Rose ran along the long corridor, trying to find the right room. They had no idea when the trial started, so they hoped it hadn't already. Finally they found a large courtroom with an open door, marked with a sign: 'Borough Court Quarter Session'.

"That's it, Rose. It hasn't started yet." said Dodger and they strode in and got some seats near the front. A few people were seated in the room already, eating, soothing their babies, and coughing.

Rose closed her eyes in exhaustion, and the next time she opened them was when the Dodger pinched her, pointing to the line of prisoners being brought in.

"They try a lot of people at the same in these quarter courts, Rose." he said, in reply to her confused expression. Peter was not visible yet, and Rose strained to see him.

The room was dirty and small. There was a raised platform which was railed off from the rest, and a dock for the prisoners on the left hand side against the wall, a box for the witnesses in the middle, and a desk for the magistrates on the right, which was concealed from the common gaze. There were groups of people all around, sitting in the seats talking, all waiting for the trial to start.

There was a bust over the mantelpiece and a dusty clock over this, which the Dodger pointed to. It was five minutes to nine.

"It's got to start at nine, I reckon." he said. Rose nodded, and casted an eye back to the prisoners.