The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
he looked in the faces of the people who were around, he felt quite
convinced that it would not be the most prudent thing in the world to
interfere with the dog in any way that savoured of violence.
"Where's the dog's master?" said one.
"Ah, where indeed?" said Todd; "I should not wonder if he had come to
some foul end!"
"But I say, old soap-suds," cried a boy; "the dog says you did it."
There was a general laugh, but the barber was by no means disconcerted,
and he shortly replied.
"Does he? he is wrong then."
Sweeney Todd had no desire to enter into anything like a controversy
with the people, so he turned again and entered his own shop, in a
distant corner of which he sat down, and folding his great gaunt-looking
arms over his chest, he gave himself up to thought, and if we may judge
from the expression of his countenance, those thoughts were of a
pleasant anticipatory character, for now and then he gave such a grim
sort of smile as might well have sat upon the features of some ogre.
And now we will turn to another scene, of a widely different character.
CHAPTER IV.
THE PIE-SHOP, BELL-YARD.
Hark! twelve o'clock at mid-day is cheerily proclaimed by St. Dunstan's
church, and scarcely have the sounds done echoing throughout the
neighbourhood, and scarce has the clock of Lincoln's-inn done chiming in
with its announcement of the same hour, when Bell-yard, Temple-bar,
becomes a scene of commotion.
What a scampering of feet is there, what a laughing and talking, what a
jostling to be first; and what an immense number of manoeuvres are
resorted to by some of the throng to distance others!
And mostly from Lincoln's-inn do these persons, young and old, but most
certainly a majority of the former, come bustling and striving, although
from the neighbouring legal establishments likewise there came not a
few; the Temple contributes its numbers, and from the more distant
Gray's-inn there came a goodly lot.
Now Bell-yard is almost choked up, and a stranger would wonder what
could be the matter, and most probably stand in some doorway until the
commotion was over.
Is it a fire? is it a fight? or anything else sufficiently alarming and
extraordinary to excite the junior members of the legal profession to
such a species of madness? No, it is none of these, nor is there a fat
cause to be run for, which, in the hands of some clever practitioner,
might become quite a vested interest. No, the enjoyment is purely one of
a physical character, and all the pacing and racing--all this turmoil
and trouble--all this pushing, jostling, laughing, and shouting, is to
see who will get first to Lovett's pie-shop.
Yes, on the left-hand side of Bell-yard, going down from Carey-street,
was at the time we write of, one of the most celebrated shops for the
sale of veal and pork pies that ever London produced. High and low, rich
and poor, resorted to it; its fame had spread far and wide; it was
because the first batch of these pies came up at twelve o'clock that
there was such a rush of the legal profession to obtain them.
Their fame had spread even to great distances, and many persons carried
them to the suburbs of the city as quite a treat to friends and
relations there residing. And well did they deserve their reputation,
those delicious pies! there was about them a flavour never surpassed,
and rarely equalled; the paste was of the most delicate construction,
and impregnated with the aroma of a delicious gravy that defies
description. Then the small portions of meat which they contained were
so tender, and the fat and the lean so artistically mixed up, that to
eat one of Lovett's pies was such a provocative to eat another, that
many persons who came to lunch stayed to dine, wasting more than an
hour, perhaps, of precious time, and endangering--who knows to the
contrary?--the success of some law-suit thereby.
The counter in Lovett's shop was in the shape of a horseshoe, and it was
the custom of the young bloods from the Temple and Lincoln's-inn to set
in a row upon its edge while they partook of the delicious pies, and
chatted gaily about one concern and another.
Many an appointment for the evening was made at Lovett's pie shop, and
many a piece of gossiping scandal was there first circulated. The din of
tongues was prodigious. The ringing laugh of the boy who looked upon the
quarter of an hour he spent at Lovett's as the brightest of the whole
twenty-four, mingled gaily with the more boisterous mirth of his
seniors; and, oh! with what rapidity the pies disappeared.
They were brought up on large trays, each of which contained about a
hundred, and from these trays they were so speedily transferred to the
mouths of Mrs. Lovett's customers that it looked quite like a work of
magic.
And now we have let out some portion of the secret. There was a Mistress
Lovett; but possibly our reader guessed as much, for what but a female
hand, and that female buxom, young, and good-looking, could have
ventured upon the production of those pies. Yes, Mrs. Lovett was all
that; and every enamoured young scion of the law, as he devoured his
pie, pleased himself with the idea that the charming Mrs. Lovett had
made that pie especially for him, and that fate or predestination had
placed it in his hands.
And it was astonishing to see with what impartiality and with what tact
the fair pastry-cook bestowed her smiles upon her admirers, so that none
could say he was neglected, while it was extremely difficult for any one
to say he was preferred.
This was pleasant, but at the same time it was provoking to all except
Mrs. Lovett, in whose favour it got up a kind of excitement that paid
extraordinarily well, because some of the young fellows thought, that he
who consumed the most pies, would be in the most likely way to receive
the greatest number of smiles from the lady.
Acting upon this supposition, some of her more enthusiastic admirers
went on consuming the pies until they were almost ready to burst. But
there were others, again, of a more philosophic turn of mind, who went
for the pies only, and did not care one jot for Mrs. Lovett.
These declared that her smile was cold and uncomfortable--that it was
upon her lips, but had no place in her heart--that it was the set smile
of a ballet-dancer, which is about one of the most unmirthful things in
existence.
Then there were some who went even beyond this, and, while they admitted
the excellence of the pies, and went every day to partake of them, swore
that Mrs. Lovett had quite a sinister aspect, and that they could see
what a merely superficial affair her blandishments were, and that there
was
"A lurking devil in her eye,"
that, if once roused, would be capable of achieving some serious things,
and might not be so easily quelled again.
By five minutes past twelve Mrs. Lovett's counter was full, and the
savoury steam of the hot pies went out in fragrant clouds into
Bell-yard, being sniffed up by many a poor wretch passing by who lacked
the means of making one in the throng that were devouring the dainty
morsels within.
"Why, Tobias Ragg," said a young man, with his mouth full of pie, "where
have you been since you left Mr. Snow's in Paper-buildings? I have not
seen you for some days."
"No," said Tobias, "I have gone into another line; instead of being a
lawyer, and helping to shave the clients, I am going to shave the
lawyers now. A twopenny pork, if you please, Mrs. Lovett. Ah! who would
be an emperor, if he couldn't get pies like these?--eh, Master Clift?"
"Well, they are good; of course we know that, Tobias; but do you mean to
say you are going to be a barber?"
"Yes, I am with Sweeney Todd, the barber of Fleet-street, close to St.
Dunstan's."
"The deuce you are! well, I am going to a party to-night, and I'll drop
in and get dressed and shaved, and patronise your master."
Tobias put his mouth close to the ear of the young lawyer, and in a
fearful sort of whisper said the one word--"Don't."
"Don't! what for?"
Tobias made no answer; and, throwing down his twopence, scampered out of
the shop as fast as he could. He had only sent a message by Sweeney Todd
in the neighbourhood; but, as he heard the clock strike twelve, and two
penny pieces were lying at the bottom of his pocket, it was not in human
nature to resist running into Lovett's and converting them into a pork
pie.
"What an odd thing!" thought the young lawyer. "I'll just drop in at
Sweeney Todd's now on purpose, and ask Tobias what he means. I quite
forgot, too, while he was here, to ask him what all that riot was about
a dog at Todd's door."
"A veal!" said a young man, rushing in; "a twopenny veal, Mrs. Lovett."
When he got it he consumed it with voracity, and then noticing an
acquaintance in the shop, he whispered to him,--
"I can't stand it any more. I have cut the spectacle-maker--Johanna is
faithless, and I know not what to do."
"Have another pie."
"But what's a pie to Johanna Oakley? You know, Dilki, that I only went
there to be near the charmer. Damn the shutters and curse the
spectacles! She loves another, and I'm a desperate individual! I should
like to do some horrible and desperate act. Oh, Johanna, Johanna! you
have driven me to the verge of what do you call it--I'll take another
veal, if you please, Mrs. Lovett."
"Well, I was wondering how you got on," said his friend Dilki, "and
thinking of calling upon you."
"Oh! it was all right--it was all right at first; she smiled upon me."
"You are quite sure she didn't laugh at you?"
"Sir! Mr. Dilki!"
"I say, are you sure that instead of smiling upon you she was not
laughing at you!"
"Am I sure? Do you wish to insult me, Mr. Dilki? I look upon you as a
puppy, sir--a horrid puppy."
"Very good; now I am convinced that the girl has been having a bit of
fun at your expense.--Are you not aware, Sam, that your nose turns up so
much that it's enough to pitch you head over heels. How do you suppose
that any girl under forty-five would waste a word upon you? Mind, I
don't say this to offend you in any way, but just quietly, by way of
asking a question."
Sam looked daggers, and probably he might have attempted some desperate
act in the pie-shop, if at the moment he had not caught the eye of Mrs.
Lovett, and he saw by the expression of that lady's face, that anything
in the shape of a riot would be speedily suppressed, so he darted out of
the place at once to carry his sorrows and his bitterness elsewhere.
It was only between twelve and one o'clock that such a tremendous rush
and influx of visitors came to the pie-shop, for although there was a
good custom the whole day, and the concern was a money-making one from
morning till night, it was at that hour principally that the great
consumption of pies took place.
Tobias knew from experience that Sweeney Todd was a skilful calculator
of the time it ought to take to go to different places, and accordingly
since he had occupied some portion of that most valuable of all
commodities at Mrs. Lovett's, he arrived quite breathless at his
master's shop.
There sat the mysterious dog with the hat, and Tobias lingered for a
moment to speak to the animal. Dogs are great physiognomists; and as the
creature looked into Tobias's face he seemed to draw a favourable
conclusion regarding him, for he submitted to a caress.
"Poor fellow!" said Tobias. "I wish I knew what had become of your
master, but it made me shake like a leaf to wake up last night and ask
myself the question. You shan't starve, though, if I can help it. I
haven't much for myself, but you shall have some of it."
As he spoke, Tobias took from his pocket some not very tempting cold