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XII . The Locket Mr Bumble had married Mrs Corney . He had also become the master of the workhouse , and he no longer wore his beadle’s coat and hat . But his marriage had not made him happy . Mrs Bumble was a hard woman with a sharp tongue , and after two months it was clear to everybody in the workhouse who gave the orders . One day she even threw him out of the room in front of the paupers . That evening Mr Bumble walked sadly into a small public house to forget his troubles . A tall , dark man in a cloak was sitting in the corner . He had a red mark on his throat , and his eyes moved restlessly round the room . After a while he came over to the beadle . “ You were the beadle here once , were you not ? ” he asked . “ I want some information from you , and I will pay you for it . ” He put two gold coins on the table . “ Think back twelve years ago , last winter . A boy was born in the workhouse , and his mother died . They called him Oliver Twist . ” “ Young Oliver ! I remember him , of course , ” said Mr Bumble . “ There wasn’t a worse young villain … ” “ It’s not of him I want to hear , ” said the stranger . “ I’ve heard enough of him . I want to hear about the old woman who nursed his mother . Where is she ? ” “ She died last winter , ” said Mr Bumble . Then he remembered something . His wife had been with old Sally when she died , and she had never told him what the old woman had said . “ But there is a woman who was with her at the end , ” he added carefully , “ and she might be able to tell you something . ” The stranger told him to bring this woman to an old building by the river the next night , at nine o’clock . He wrote the address on a piece of paper . His name , he said , was Monks . The next night there was a terrible storm . Mr and Mrs Bumble walked through the rain to a lonely , half - ruined building beside the river . It had once been a factory , but now it was empty and falling to pieces . Monks let them in and took them up to a large dark room . Rain was beating on the roof , and thunder shook the walls . “ Now , ” said Monks . “ What did the old woman tell you , and what is it worth ? ” “ It may be worth nothing , or it may be worth twenty pounds , ” said Mrs Bumble calmly . “ Give me five and twenty pounds in gold , and I will tell you all I know . ” Monks counted out the money onto the table . Then Mrs Bumble told him how old Sally had died . Before her death , the old woman had placed in her hand a small piece of paper . It was a ticket from a pawnbroker’s shop . Sally had left something there years ago , and Mrs Bumble had paid the money and taken it out . She now put it on the table . It was a little leather bag , and inside it was a gold locket and a plain gold wedding ring .
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