Oliver rescued by the Maylies

Oliver rescued by the Maylies is the decisive turning point of the novel, the moment when the orphan, shot and left for dead after the failed Chertsey burglary, is taken into the household of the very people he was forced to rob. This rescue does not merely save his life from the physical effects of his wound and the ensuing fever; it removes him permanently from the orbit of Fagin and Bill Sikes, places him under the protection of benevolent strangers who believe his story, and sets in motion the chain of revelations that will uncover his true parentage and secure his inheritance. The event transforms Oliver from a hunted fugitive into a beloved child, and it introduces the Maylie household as the moral and emotional center of the novel's second half.

The Wounded Boy at the Door

After Sikes and Toby Crackit abandoned him in a ditch, Oliver lay motionless and insensible through the cold morning, his left arm rudely bandaged in a shawl that was saturated with blood. When he finally awoke, he was so weak that he could scarcely raise himself into a sitting posture, and he staggered to and fro like a drunken man as he tried to walk. Driven by a creeping sickness at his heart that warned him he must surely die if he remained, he stumbled onward, not knowing where he was going, until he reached a road and saw a house at no great distance. As he drew nearer, a feeling came over him that he had seen it before, and then he recognized the garden wall: it was the very house they had attempted to rob. Overcome with fear, he thought only of flight, but he could scarcely stand. He pushed against the garden gate, found it unlocked, tottered across the lawn, climbed the steps, and knocked faintly at the door before his whole strength failed him and he sunk down against one of the pillars of the little portico.

The Household's Response

The knock came at a moment when Mr. Giles, Brittles, and a traveling tinker were in the kitchen, still recovering from the terrors of the night and recounting the burglary to the cook and housemaid. After much fearful hesitation and elaborate precautions—including pinching the dogs' tails to make them bark—Brittles opened the door to find not a dangerous criminal but poor little Oliver Twist, speechless and exhausted, who raised his heavy eyes and mutely solicited their compassion. Mr. Giles, seizing the boy by one leg and one arm (fortunately not the broken limb), lugged him straight into the hall and deposited him on the floor, bawling up the staircase that he had captured one of the thieves. But a sweet female voice from the stair-head quelled the commotion: it was Rose Maylie, who asked whether the poor creature was much hurt and directed that he be carried carefully upstairs to Mr. Giles's room, and that Brittles should saddle the pony and fetch a constable and doctor from Chertsey. When Mr. Giles urged her to take a look at him, she refused, saying, "Poor fellow! Oh! treat him kindly, Giles for my sake!"

The Inmates of the House

The house belonged to Mrs. Maylie, an upright old lady dressed with utmost nicety in a quaint mixture of by-gone costume, and her niece Rose, a young woman not past seventeen, cast in so slight and exquisite a mould, so mild and gentle, so pure and beautiful, that earth seemed not her element. Rose was busily engaged in the little offices of the breakfast-table when the doctor, Mr. Losberne, arrived—a fat, good-humored, eccentric bachelor who was the surgeon in the neighborhood. When he went up to examine Oliver, he was absent much longer than expected, and when he returned he closed the door carefully and declared the case a very extraordinary thing. He led the ladies to the bedside, where, instead of the dogged, black-visaged ruffian they had expected to behold, there lay a mere child, worn with pain and exhaustion, sunk into a deep sleep, his wounded arm bound and splintered up, his head reclined upon the other arm. Rose glided softly past, seated herself by the bedside, gathered Oliver's hair from his face, and as she stooped over him, her tears fell upon his forehead.

The Decision to Protect Oliver

Mrs. Maylie declared that the poor child could never have been the pupil of robbers, but the surgeon warned that vice takes up her abode in many temples. Rose passionately argued that even if he had been wicked, he was so young, might never have known a mother's love, and might have been driven to guilt by ill-usage and want. She implored her aunt not to let them drag this sick child to a prison, which would be the grave of all his chances of amendment. Mrs. Maylie, folding the weeping girl to her bosom, asked, "Do you think I would harm a hair of his head?" and declared that her days were drawing to their close and may mercy be shown to her as she showed it to others. Mr. Losberne then devised a plan: he would bully Giles and Brittles into doubting their identification of Oliver as the burglar, and he stipulated that he should examine the boy in the ladies' presence, and if he proved to be a real and thorough bad one, he should be left to his fate. The conference that followed was a long one; Oliver told them all his simple history, often compelled to stop by pain and want of strength, and when he had finished, the doctor, after wiping his eyes, went downstairs to confront the servants. By a combination of browbeating, the discovery that the pistol had been loaded only with gunpowder and brown paper, and the convenient arrival of Bow Street officers Blathers and Duff, who were easily confused and sent off on a false scent, Oliver was kept safe. A neighboring magistrate was induced to take the joint bail of Mrs. Maylie and Mr. Losberne for Oliver's appearance, and the boy was allowed to remain.

Aftermath and New Life

Oliver gradually throve and prospered under the united care of Mrs. Maylie, Rose, and the kind-hearted Mr. Losberne. His recovery was slow—the broken limb, the fever and ague brought on by exposure to wet and cold, hung about him for many weeks—but at length he began to get better, and to say in tearful words how deeply he felt the goodness of the two sweet ladies. Rose assured him that he should have many opportunities of serving them, and that they were going into the country, where the quiet place, the pure air, and all the pleasures and beauties of spring would restore him. When he was well enough, Mr. Losberne took him to London to find Mr. Brownlow, but the house was empty and Mr. Brownlow had reportedly gone to the West Indies—a bitter disappointment that caused Oliver much sorrow even in the midst of his happiness. Nevertheless, the Maylies took him with them to a cottage in the country, where he entered on a new existence: he learned to read and write with a white-headed old gentleman, walked with Mrs. Maylie and Rose, listened to Rose play the piano and sing, and spent his days roaming the fields and gathering wild flowers. For three months he lived in true felicity, and by the end of that short time he had become completely domesticated with the old lady and her niece, his fervent attachment repaid by their pride in and attachment to himself.