Give me your hand.

Make haste! Your hand!' She caught the hand which Oliver instinctively placed in hers, and, blowing out the light, drew him after her up the stairs.

The door was opened, quickly, by some one shrouded in the darkness, and was as quickly closed, when they had passed out.

A hackney-cabriolet was in waiting; with the same vehemence which she had exhibited in addressing Oliver, the girl pulled him in with her, and drew the curtains close.
The driver wanted no directions, but lashed his horse into full speed, without the delay of an instant.
The girl still held Oliver fast by the hand, and continued to pour into his ear, the warnings and assurances she had already imparted.

All was so quick and hurried, that he had scarcely time to recollect where he was, or how he came there, when the carriage stopped at the house to which the Jew's steps had been directed on the previous evening.
For one brief moment, Oliver cast a hurried glance along the empty street, and a cry for help hung upon his lips.