the more, and add to the severity of his sentence, he hazarded a guess.
"He says his name's Tom White, your worship," said this kind-hearted thief-taker.
"Oh, he won't speak out, won't he?" said Fang. "Very well, very well. Where does he live?"
"Where he can, your worship," replied the officer, again pretending to receive Oliver's answer.
"Has he any parents?" inquired Mr. Fang.
"He says they died in his infancy, your worship," replied the officer, hazarding the usual reply.
At this point of the inquiry Oliver raised his head, and, looking round with imploring eyes, murmured a feeble prayer for a draught of water.
"Stuff and nonsense!" said Mr. Fang; "don't try to make a fool of me."
"I think he really is ill, your worship," remonstrated the officer.
"I know better," said Mr. Fang.
