The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
every one interested to keep themselves on the look-out concerning the
rascal."
"You think you will have him again?"
"Oh, yes. He must be without resources, or, at all events, comparatively
so; and under such circumstances, we shall soon trace him. Besides, he
is rather a remarkable man, and one who, once seen, is not only easily
known again, but easily described; so that when I set all the agencies
on foot which I have at my command to find him out, he cannot for long
elude me."
"I sincerely wish you every success."
"Thank you, colonel, for I must now be off, for I have to get to Chelsea
to warn the Ingestries of the possible, if not the probable danger of
Todd trying some delectable scheme of revenge against them, for he is
most furious I know against Johanna."
"Off with you, Sir Richard, at once. Do not let me detain you, when you
are upon such an errand. I would not have any harm come to Mrs.
Ingestrie for worlds."
"Nor I. Good morning."
The magistrate mounted his horse again, and waving his hand to the
colonel, he again started at a good round trot, and made the best of his
way by the nearest possible route he could to Chelsea, where Mr. and
Mrs. Ingestrie had set up housekeeping in Cheyne Walk.
That portion of Chelsea was then very fashionable, and from the
appearance of the houses even now, it is very easy to see that it must
have been a very desirable place at one time. All the evidences of
wealthy ease meet you on every hand, as you look at those broad,
well-put together, aristocratic residences, with their pretty bit of
highly cultivated garden in front of them, and their massive doorways.
It was in one of these houses that Johanna and her young husband had
taken up their residence. The string of pearls had been actually
purchased by royalty of Johanna, and had produced a sum of money that
had not only placed the young couple above all the ordinary pecuniary
accidents of life, but had enabled them to surround Mr. and Mrs. Oakley
with comforts, although the old spectacle-maker, from very habit, would
stick to his shop, declaring, and no doubt with great truth, that his
daily labour was now such a thing of habit that he would be miserable
without it.
It was a very different thing, though, for old Mr. Oakley now to work at
the bench in his shop, when he felt that he was placed above the real
necessity for doing so, to when he had worked very hard indeed to
support himself and Johanna, during the period, too, when in consequence
of Mrs. Oakley's rather insane predilection for the Reverend Josiah
Lupin, there was no comfort in the house, and, but for Johanna, all
would have gone to rack and ruin.
The frightfully dirty ditch that lies before and beyond Cheyne Walk,
Chelsea, was not then in existence, so that the really handsome row of
residences was not destroyed--as it is now--by such dubious
companionship. The river, too, was much clearer than now of craft, and
likewise much sweeter, so that really at times, when the sun shone upon
its ripples, it really deserved the title of "The Silver Thames."
It was still an early hour when Sir Richard Blunt reached Chelsea--that
is to say, it was what then was considered an early hour, for all the
world was not in the hurry that is the fashion now, and people did
everything in a much more easy and deliberate way than they do now.
What is gained, or pretended to be gained, by all the hurry-skurry and
jostling and driving that characterises society at present? We must
confess ourselves at a loss to imagine, and we are decidedly of opinion
that people were both happier and better when everything was taken in an
easy way, and when folks did not disturb their dignities by all sorts of
frantic manoeuvres to save time, as if the whole end and aim of life was
to get through as much of what is called business as possible, and as if
the principal business of everybody was not to be as quiet and
comfortable as possible.
The magistrate could not but pause for a moment as he reached Cheyne
Walk and saw the bright sun shining upon the water, and gilding with
beauty the sails of some small craft that were taking advantage of a
light pleasant breeze to get along without labour.
"A pretty enough place this," he said, "and I don't know any that I
should prefer to idle away my life in, if I had nothing to do, as I hope
to have some of these odd days--but not yet."
CHAPTER CXLI.
SHOWS HOW TODD MADE UP HIS MIND TO VENGEANCE.
Sir Richard drew bridle opposite the house of Mr. Ingestrie, and called
to an urchin who was passing to ring the bell for him.
The boy complied and in a few moments a servant made an appearance, to
whom Sir Richard said--
"If your master is stirring, pray tell him that a gentleman wishes to
speak to him for a few moments."
These words were hardly past the lips of the magistrate, when some one,
with a bunch of flowers in her hand, and one of the prettiest of pretty
morning dresses, came to the door. It was our old, dear, young, kind
friend, Johanna! We cannot help calling her Johanna still, although,
perhaps, it would be more proper for us to name her Mrs. Ingestrie; but
it seems so odd to append that title of "Mrs." to our gentle, youthful
Johanna, whose dangers in Todd's shop we have watched and trembled at so
often in times past.
"Ah! my dear friend," she cried, when she saw who it was. "I am so glad
to see you!"
"And I am equally glad to see you," said Sir Richard, "particularly as
you look so well and so happy."
"Yes, I am happy. Mark! Mark! here is Sir Richard come to breakfast with
us."
"Nay, I did not think of dismounting."
"Oh, but you must. I will hold the bridle of the horse, and you will
have to ride over me if you attempt to go away. Mark--Mark! where are
you!"
Upon these repeated calls, Mark Ingestrie make his appearance at the
door, and looked pleased enough to see Sir Richard, who, finding that
they would take no sort of denial, he felt that he could not do
otherwise than dismount and enter the house. A servant of the Ingestries
took charge of his horse, and he was soon in the breakfast-room of the
pretty house, inhabited by the young couple.
It did not escape the observation of Johanna that there was a cloud of
seriousness upon the countenance of Sir Richard Blunt; but she did not
make any remark, although each moment she felt more and more convinced
that it was some matter of business that called the magistrate to their
abode so early; for it will be remembered that although he had
transacted a good quantity of business, the day was yet very young.
Mark Ingestrie did not appear to have any idea beyond the fact that it
was very kind of the magistrate to visit them; but the reader will
easily excuse him for not being so acute an observer as Johanna.
"I hope," said Mark, "that you will often take a canter over here, Sir
Richard, before the business of the day commences, and breakfast with
us. I know how very hopeless it is to expect you often at any other
time."
"It is rather so," replied Sir Richard, "and my stay now must be very
limited indeed. How do you both like your new house?"
"It is charming," said Johanna, "and the view from the windows is full
of animation for the greater part of the day."
"It's the view in-doors," smiled Mark, "that to me is so delightful and
so full of animation."
"That is just what I should have supposed," said the magistrate,
glancing at Johanna with a smile.
"Now, positively, I must go and take my breakfast in some other room,"
said Johanna, "if there are to be any compliments. They are quite
absurd, you know, among married folks."
"And a little unfair," said Sir Richard, "at meal times, I think, above
all others."
"Indeed?" said Mark.
"Yes, to be sure," added Johanna, "for you know one is either obliged to
hear the compliments, which feed no one but with false viands, or leave
the table upon which there may be something much more substantial and
decidedly more palatable."
"I give in," said Mark, "I give in. I don't for one moment profess to be
a match for you alone, my dear; but when you get Sir Richard to side
with you, I feel that I had better say as little as possible."
"A graceful defeat," said Sir Richard, "is almost as good as a clumsy
victory."
"Much better," said Johanna, "a great deal better. But now, Sir Richard,
you have not ridden over here to help us at our breakfast, or to talk
badinage."
Mark opened his eyes very wide indeed, and looked from Johanna to the
magistrate, and from the magistrate to Johanna, with evident surprise.
An expression of great anxiety was each moment gathering over the face
of Johanna, which Sir Richard saw, and with all that tact which with him
was a kind of second nature, he said--
"I have had the pleasure of seeing your father this morning, and they
are all well at the old house, and as comfortable as can be."
Johanna drew a long breath of relief, and then Mark Ingestrie cried in a
voice of surprise--
"What? Do you mean to say you have been in the city before you came
here, sir?"
"I have, my friend, and I have been to Colonel Jeffery's, too, before I
came here. If I had not, I should not be able to indulge myself with the
pleasure of staying here for even the short time that I have been
beneath your roof. I must, however, go."
"Something has happened!" said Johanna.
"So there has," said the magistrate with a smile, "but it cannot be
anything very serious, you know, as all our dear friends are well.
Anything falls light in comparison with the health and happiness of
those whom we love."
"Oh, yes--yes," said Johanna. "You are right, and you are very good to
preface bad news in so kind a manner, Sir Richard. It is good, and kind,
and grateful, and like you in all respects. I thank you from my heart."
"But what's it all about?" cried Mark Ingestrie. "Good gracious, what's
it all about? Who talks of bad news? If all our friends are well, how
can there be bad news? Do not keep us in suspense, Sir Richard!"
"No--no," said Johanna.
"I will not."
Both Johanna and Mark Ingestrie looked most intently at the magistrate,
as he said in his quiet way--
"Sweeney Todd has escaped from Newgate, and is now at large!"
Mark Ingestrie sprang to his feet, and Johanna, for a moment, turned
rather pale.
"The villain!" cried Mark.
"Hush!" said Johanna. "Oh, hush, Mark!"
"It was of the utmost importance," continued Sir Richard Blunt, speaking
quite calmly, "that all who were in any way comprehended in the list of
what Sweeney Todd would call his enemies, should be speedily informed of
this fact, and that is what has brought me to Chelsea at so early an
hour in the morning."
"We thank you from our hearts," said Johanna.
"We do, indeed," said Mark. "But let him beware of me. He dare not,
villain as he is, come within the reach of my arm. The spirit of my poor
murdered friend, Thornhill, will cry aloud for vengeance, and nothing
should save the murderer from death."
"Oh, Mark--Mark!" said Johanna, "do not speak in such a strain. You do
not know Todd. You know nothing of the character and of the capabilities
of that man. He is not only one of the most wicked, but he is likewise
one of the most crafty and unscrupulous."
"That is true," said the magistrate. "He does not know him. Do you
suppose for one moment, Mr. Ingestrie, that I would have ridden over
here to give you such a special warning concerning this man, if I
apprehended any open attack? No--that I could have trusted to you to
ward off. Your life has been one of danger and adventure; but not you,
nor I, nor all the world, can be prepared against what Todd may, in the