cried the Jew: with a still fiercer look than before: and a threatening attitude.

‘Upon my word I was not, sir,’ replied Oliver, earnestly. ‘I was not, indeed, sir.’

‘Tush, tush, my dear!’ said the Jew, abruptly resuming his old manner, and playing with the knife a little, before he laid it down; as if to induce the belief that he had caught it up, in mere sport. ‘Of course I know that, my dear. I only tried to frighten you. You’re a brave boy. Ha! ha! you’re a brave boy, Oliver.’ The Jew rubbed his hands with a chuckle, but glanced uneasily at the box, notwithstanding.

‘Did you see any of these pretty things, my dear?’ said the Jew, laying his hand upon it after a short pause.