The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
the town, to take a considerable sum of money; but he never came back
with it, and from that day to this we have heard nothing of him,
although, from inquiry that my father made, he ascertained that he
received the money, and that he met an acquaintance in the Strand, who
parted from him at the corner of Milford-lane, and to whom he said that
he intended to call at Sweeney Todd's, the barber, in Fleet-street, to
have his hair dressed, because there was to be a regatta on the Thames,
and he was determined to go to it whether my father liked or not."
"And he was never heard of?"
"Never. Of course, my father made every inquiry upon the subject, and
called upon Sweeney Todd for the purpose; but, as he declared that no
such person had ever called at his shop, the inquiry there terminated."
"'Tis very strange."
"And most mysterious; for the friends of the youth were indeed
indefatigable in their searches for him; and, by subscribing together
for the purpose, they offered a large reward to any one who could or
would give them information regarding his fate."
"And was it all in vain?"
"All; nothing could be learned whatever. Not even the remotest clue was
obtained, and there the affair has rested, in the most profound of
mysteries."
Johanna shuddered, and for some few moments the two young girls were
silent. It was Johanna who broke that silence, by exclaiming--
"Arabella, assist me with what advice you can, so that I may set about
what I purpose with the best prospect of success and the least danger;
not that I shrink on my own account from risk, but if any misadventure
were to occur to me, I might thereby be incapacitated from pursuing that
object, to which I will now devote the remainder of my life."
"But what can you do, my dear Johanna? It was but a short time since
there was a placard in the barber's window to say that he wanted a lad
as an assistant in his business, but that has been removed, or we might
have procured some one to take the situation for the express purpose of
playing the spy upon the barber's proceedings."
"But, perchance, still there may be an opportunity of accomplishing
something in that way, if you knew of any one that would undertake the
adventure."
"There will be no difficulty, Johanna, in discovering one willing to do
so, although we might be long in finding one of sufficient capacity that
we could trust; but I am adventurous, Johanna, as you know, and I think
I could have got my cousin Albert to personate the character, only that
I think he's rather a giddy youth, and scarcely to be trusted with a
mission of so much importance."
"Yes, and a mission likewise, Arabella, which, by a single false step,
might be made frightfully dangerous."
"It might indeed."
"Then it will be unfair to place it upon any one but those who feel most
deeply for its success."
"Johanna, the enthusiasm with which you speak awakens in me a thought
which I shrink from expressing to you, and which, I fear, perhaps more
originates from a certain feeling of romance, which, I believe, is a
besetting sin, than from any other cause."
"Name it, Arabella; name it."
"It would be possible for you or I to accomplish the object, by going
disguised to the barber's, and accepting such a situation, if it were
vacant, for a period of about twenty-four hours, in order that during
that time an opportunity might be taken of searching in his house for
some evidence upon the subject nearest to your heart."
"It is a happy thought," said Johanna, "and why should I hesitate at
encountering any risk, or toil, or difficulty, for him who has risked so
much for me? What is there to hinder me from carrying out such a
resolution? At any moment, if great danger should beset me, I can rush
into the street, and claim protection from the passers-by."
"And moreover, Johanna, if you went on such a mission, remember you go
with my knowledge, and that consequently I would bring you assistance,
if you appeared not in the specified time for your return."
"Each moment, Arabella, the plan assumes to my mind a better shape. If
Sweeney Todd be innocent of contriving anything against the life and
liberty of those who seek his shop, I have nothing to fear; but if, on
the contrary, he be guilty, danger to me would be the proof of such
guilt, and that is a proof which I am willing to chance encountering for
the sake of the great object I have in view; but how am I to provide
myself with the necessary means?"
"Be at rest upon that score. My cousin Albert and you are as nearly of a
size as possible. He will be staying here shortly, and I will secure
from his wardrobe a suit of clothes, which I am certain will answer your
purpose. But let me implore you to wait until you have had your second
interview with Colonel Jeffery."
"That is well thought of; I will meet him, and question him closely as
to the personal appearance of this Mr. Thornhill; beside, I shall hear
if he has any confirmed suspicion on the subject."
"That is well, you will soon meet him, for the week is running on; and
let me implore you, Johanna, to come to me the morning after you have so
met him, and then we will again consult upon this plan of operations,
which appears to us feasible and desirable."
Some more conversation of a similar character ensued between these young
girls; and upon the whole, Johanna Oakley felt much comforted by her
visit, and more able to think calmly as well as seriously upon the
subject which engrossed her whole thoughts and feelings; and when she
returned to her own home, she found that much of the excitement of
despair which had formerly had possession of her, had given way to hope;
and with that natural feeling of joyousness, and that elasticity of mind
which belongs to the young, she began to build in her imagination some
airy fabrics of future happiness. Certainly, these suppositions went
upon the fact that Mark Ingestrie was a prisoner, and not that his life
had been taken by the mysterious barber; for although the possibility of
his having been murdered had found a home in her imagination, still to
her pure spirit it seemed by far too hideous to be true, and she
scarcely could be said really and truly to entertain it as a matter
which was likely to be true.
CHAPTER XIV.
TOBIAS'S THREAT, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
Perhaps one of the most pitiable objects now in our history is poor
Tobias, Sweeney Todd's boy, who certainly had his suspicions aroused in
the most terrific manner, but who was terrified, by the threats of what
the barber was capable of doing against his mother, from making any
disclosures. The effect upon his personal appearance of this wear and
tear of his intellect was striking and manifest. The hue of youth and
health entirely departed from his cheeks, and he looked so sad and
careworn, that it was quite a terrible thing to look upon a young lad
so, as it were, upon the threshold of existence, and in whom anxious
thoughts were making such war upon the physical energies. His cheeks
were pale and sunken; his eyes had an unnatural brightness about them,
and, to look upon his lips, one would think they had never parted in a
smile for many a day, so sadly were they compressed together. He seemed
ever to be watching likewise for something fearful, and even as he
walked the streets he would frequently turn and look inquiringly around
him with a shudder; and in his brief interview with Colonel Jeffery and
his friend the captain, we can have a tolerably good comprehension of
the state of his mind. Oppressed with fears, and all sorts of dreadful
thoughts, panting to give utterance to what he knew and to what he
suspected, yet terrified into silence for his mother's sake, we cannot
but view him as signally entitled to the sympathy of the reader, and as,
in all respects, one sincerely to be pitied for the cruel circumstances
in which he was placed. The sun is shining brightly, and even that busy
region of trade and commerce, Fleet-street, is looking gay and
beautiful; but not for that poor spirit-stricken lad are any of the
sights and sounds which used to make up the delight of his existence,
reaching his eyes or ears now with their accustomed force. He sits moody
and alone, and in the position which he always assumes when Sweeney Todd
is from home--that is to say, with his head resting on his hands, and
looking the picture of melancholy abstraction.
"What shall I do?" he said to himself, "what will become of me? I think
if I live here any longer, I shall go out of my senses. Sweeney Todd is
a murderer--I am quite certain of it, and I wish to say so, but I dare
not for my mother's sake. Alas! alas! the end of it will be, that he
will kill me, or that I shall go out of my senses, and then I shall die
in some mad-house, and no one will care what I say."
The boy wept bitterly after he had uttered these melancholy reflections,
and he felt his tears something of a relief to him, so that he looked up
after a little time, and glanced around him.
"What a strange thing," he said, "that people should come into this
shop, to my certain knowledge, who never go out of it again, and yet
what becomes of them I cannot tell."
He looked with a shuddering anxiety towards the parlour, the door of
which Sweeney Todd took care to lock always when he left the place, and
he thought that he should like much to have a thorough examination of
that room.
"I have been in it," he said, "and it seems full of cupboards and
strange holes and corners, such as I never saw before, and there is an
odd stench in it that I cannot make out at all; but it's out of the
question thinking of ever being in it above a few minutes at a time, for
Sweeney Todd takes good care of that."
The boy rose, and opened a small cupboard that was in the shop. It was
perfectly empty.
"Now, that's strange," he said, "there was a walking-stick with an ivory
top to it here just before he went out, and I could swear it belonged to
a man who came in to be shaved. More than once--ah! and more than twice,
too, when I have come in suddenly, I have seen people's hats, and
Sweeney Todd would try and make me believe that people go away after
being shaved, and leave their hats behind them."
He walked up to the shaving chair as it was called, which was a large,
old-fashioned piece of furniture, made of oak, and carved; and, as the
boy threw himself into it, he said--
"What an odd thing it is that this chair is screwed so tight to the
floor! Here is a complete fixture, and Sweeney Todd says it is so
because it's in the best possible light, and if he were not to make it
fast in such a way, the customers would shift it about from place to
place, so that he could not conveniently shave them; it may be true, but
I don't know."
"And you have your doubts," said the voice of Sweeney Todd, as that
individual, with a noiseless step, walked into the shop--"you have your
doubts, Tobias? I shall have to cut your throat, that is quite clear."
"No, no, have mercy upon me; I did not mean what I said."
"Then it's uncommonly imprudent to say it, Tobias. Do you remember our
last conversation? Do you remember that I can hang your mother when I
please, because, if you do not, I beg to put you in mind of that
pleasant little circumstance?"
"I cannot forget--I do not forget."
"'Tis well; and mark me, I will not have you assume such an aspect as
you wear when I am not here. You don't look cheerful, Tobias; and,
notwithstanding your excellent situation, with little to do, and the
number of Lovett's pies you eat, you fall away."
"I cannot help it," said Tobias, "since you told me what you did