The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
parlour, "what do you all bring it in now? Wilful murder with the chill
off or what? Ah, mother Oakley, what's the price of vinegar now,
wholesale--pluck does it. Here you is. Ha, ha! Aint we a united family.
Couldn't stay away from you, Mother Oakley, no more nor I could from
that ere laughing hyena we has in the Tower."
"Eugh!--wretch!"
"Sit down, Ben," said Mr. Oakley. "I am glad to see you, and I am quite
sure Johanna is."
"Oh, yes, yes."
"That's it," said Ben. "It's on Johanna's account I came. Now, little
one, just tell me--"
Johanna had just time to place her finger upon her lips, unobserved by
any one, and shake her head at Ben.
"Ah--hem! How are you, eh?" he said, turning the conversation. "Come,
Mother O., stir your old stumps and be alive, will you? I have come to
lunch with your lord and master, so bustle--bustle."
Mrs. Oakley rose, and placing her hands upon her hips, she looked at
Ben, as she said--
"You great, horrid, man-mountain of a wretch. I only wonder you ain't
afraid, after the proper punishment you had on the occasion of your last
visit, to show your horrid face here again?"
"You _deludes_ to the physicking, I suppose, mum. Lor bless you, it did
us no end of good; but, howsomedever, we provide agin wice in animals
when we knows on it aforehand, do you see. Oh, there you is."
A boy howled out from the shop--"Did a gentleman order two gallons of
half-and-half here, please?"
"All's right," said Ben. "Now, Mother O., the only thing I'll trouble
you for, is a knife and fork. As for the rest of the combustibles, here
they is."
Ben took from one capacious pocket a huge parcel, containing about six
pounds of boiled beef, and from the other he took as much ham.
"Hold hard!" he cried to the boy who brought the beer. "Take this
half-crown, my lad, and get three quartern loaves."
"But, Ben," said old Mr. Oakley, "I really had no intention, when I
asked you to come to lunch this morning, of making you provide it
yourself. We have, or we ought to have, plenty of everything in the
house."
"Old birds," said Ben, "isn't to be caught twice. A fellow, arter he has
burnt his fingers, is afeard o' playing with the fire. No, Mrs. O., you
gave us a benefit last time, and I ain't a-going to try my luck again.
All's right--pitch into the grub. How is the chosen vessel, Mother O.?
All right, eh?"
Mrs. Oakley waited until Ben had made an immense sandwich of ham and
beef; and then in an instant, before he was aware of what she was about,
she caught it up, and slapped it in his face with a vengeance that was
quite staggering.
"Easy does it," said Ben.
"Take that, you great, fat elephant."
"Go it--go it."
Mrs. Oakley bounced out of the room. Johanna looked her sorrow; and Mr.
Oakley rose from his chair, but Ben made him sit down again, saying--
"Easy does it--easy does it. Never mind her, cousin Oakley. She must
have her way sometimes. Let her kick and be off. There's no harm
done--not a bit. Lord bless you. I'm used to all sorts of cantankerous
animals."
Mr. Oakley shook his head.
"Forget it, father," said Johanna.
"I only wish, my dear, I could forget many things; and yet there are so
many others, that I want to remember, mixed up with them, that I don't
know how I should manage to separate them one from the other."
"You couldn't do it," said Ben. "Here's luck in a bag, and shake it out
as you want it."
This sentiment was uttered while Ben's head was deep in the recesses of
the two-gallon can of beer, so that it had a peculiar solemn and
sonorous effect with it. After drinking about a quart, Ben withdrew the
can, and drew a long breath.
"Has he brought yours?" he said.
"What?--who?"
"Why the other two gallons for you and Johanna."
"Good gracious, Ben, you don't mean that?"
"Don't I, though. Oh, here he is. All's right. Now, my lad, get the
little pint jug, with the silver top to it, and if we don't mull a drop,
I'm a sinner. Now, you'll see if Mrs. O. don't come round quite
handsome."
Ben, by the aid of some sugar, succeeded in making a very palatable
drink, and just as the steam began to salute the nostrils of old Oakley
and himself, the door of the parlour was opened, and who should
heedlessly step into the room but the pious Mr. Lupin himself. Mr. Lupin
was so transfixed by finding Ben there, that for a moment or two he
could not gather strength to retreat; and during that brief period, Ben
had shifted his chair, until he got quite behind the reverend gentleman,
who, when he did step back, in consequence fell into Ben's lap.
"What do yer mean?" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder.
"Oh, murder--murder! Have mercy upon me! I only looked in as I was
passing, to ask how all the family was."
"Yes," said Mr. Oakley, "and because you, no doubt, heard I was going to
Tottenham, to Judge Merivale's, to fit him with a pair of spectacles."
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Let me go, sir."
"I don't want you," said Ben; "but as you are here, let's make an end of
all differences, and have a pint together."
"A pint?"
"Yes, to be sure. By the look of your nose, I should say it knows pretty
well what a pint is."
"Oh, dear--man is sinful alway. I bear no malice, and if the truly
right-minded and pious Mrs. Oakley was only here, we might drink down
all differences, Mr. a--a--"
"Ben."
"Mr. Ben. Thank you, sir."
"Oh, Mr. Lupin," cried Mrs. Oakley, at this moment bursting into the
parlour. "Is it possible that you can give your mind in this way to the
Philistines? Is not this backsliding?"
"Let us hope for the best, sister," said Mr. Lupin, with an evangelical
twang. "Let us hope for the best. If people will drink, they had much
better drink with the saints, who may take some favourable opportunity
of converting them, than with sinners."
"Sit down, mum," said Ben, "and let's bury all animosities in the can.
Easy does it. Don't you go, Johanna."
"Yes, but, Ben, I--"
"Now don't."
Ben saw by the direction of Johanna's eyes, that the Rev. gentleman was
resting one of his red raw-looking hands upon her arm, and, situated as
she was, she could not get out of his way but by rising.
"Sit still," said Ben. "Easy does it."
Lifting up the can, then, he pretended to drink out of it, and then
brought it with such a thundering crack upon Mr. Lupin's head, that it
quite staggered him.
"Paws off," said Ben. "Just attend to that ere gentle hint, old friend."
Mr. Lupin sat down with a groan.
"Now, mum," said Ben, who all the while had held fast the stone mug of
mulled porter. "Now, mum, here's some hot, that don't suit me so well as
the cold, perhaps you and Mr. Lupin will take that, while I cuts a few
more sandwiches."
He placed the jug before Mr. Lupin, who thereupon left off rubbing his
head, and said--
"I'm sure it would be highly unchristian of me to bear any malice, so,
with the Lord's leave, I will even partake of some of this worldly
liquor, called mulled porter."
Now while Mr. Lupin drank the savoury stream from the jug, it assailed
the senses of Mrs. Oakley, and when the porter was placed before her,
she raised it to her lips, saying--
"If folks are civil to me, I'm civil to them, only I don't like my godly
friends to be ill-treated. I'm sure nobody knows what I have gone
through for my family, and nobody thinks what a mother and wife I have
been. What would have become of Oakley if it hadn't been for me, is a
question I often ask myself in the middle of the night?"
"She's a wonderful woman," sighed Lupin.
"Oh, uncommon," said Ben.
"Let me go," whispered Johanna to Ben.
"No, no! Wait for the fun."
"What fun?"
"Oh, you'll see. You don't know what a trouble it has cost me, to be
sure. Only wait a bit, there's a duck, do."
Johanna did not like to say she would not, so she shrunk back in her
chair in no small curiosity, to know what was about to happen. Mrs.
Oakley lifted the jug to her lips and drunk deep. The aroma of the
liquor must have been peculiarly grateful to the palate of Mrs. Oakley,
for she certainly kept the jug at her mouth for a length of time, that,
to judge by the look of impatience upon the countenance of Mr. Lupin,
was something outrageous.
"Sister!" he said. "Mind your breath."
Down came the jug, and Mrs. Oakley, when she could draw breath, gasped--
"Very good indeed. A dash of allspice would make it delicious."
"Oh, sister," cried Lupin as he grasped the jug, that was gently pushed
towards him by Ben after Mrs. Oakley had set it down. "Oh, sister, don't
give your mind to carnal things, I beg of you. Why, she's drank it all."
Mr. Lupin peered into the jug. He shut the right eye and looked in with
the left, and then he shut the left eye and looked in with the right,
and then he moved the jug about until the silver lid came down with a
clap, that nearly snapped his nose off.
"What's the matter?" said Ben.
"I--I--don't exactly--" Mr. Lupin raised the lid again and again, and
peered into the jug in something of the fashion which popular belief
supposes a crow to look into a marrow bone.
At length he turned the jug upside down, and struck the bottom of it
with his pious knuckles. A huge toad fell sprawling upon the table. Mrs.
Oakley gave a shriek, and rushed into the yard. Mr. Lupin gave a groan,
and flew into the street, and the party in the parlour could hear them
in a state of horrible sickness.
"Easy does it," said Ben, "it's only a piece of wood shaped like a toad
and painted, that's all. Now I'm easy. I owed 'em one."
CHAPTER XLVI.
TOBIAS'S HEART IS TOUCHED.
Tobias is no worse all this time. But is he better? Has the godlike
spirit of reason come back to the mind-benighted boy? Has that pure and
gentle spirit recovered from its fearful thraldom, and once again opened
its eyes to the world and the knowledge of the past? We shall see.
Accompany us, reader, once again to the house of Colonel Jeffery. You
will not regret looking upon the pale face of poor Tobias again. The
room is darkened, for the sun is shining brightly, and an almond tree in
the front garden is not sufficiently umbrageous in its uncongenial soil
to keep the bright rays from resting too strongly upon the face of the
boy. There he lies! His eyes are closed, and the long lashes--for
Tobias, poor fellow, was a pretty boy--hung upon his cheek, held down by
the moisture of a tear. The face is pale, oh, so pale and thin, and the
one arm and hand that lies outside the coverlet of the bed, show the
blue veins through the thin transparent skin. And all this is the work
of Sweeney Todd. Well, well! heaven is patient! In the room is
everything that can conduce to the comfort of the slumbering boy.
Colonel Jeffery has kept his word. And now that we have taken a look at
Tobias, tread gently on tip-toe, reader, and come with us down stairs to
the back drawing-room, where Colonel Jeffery, his friend Captain
Rathbone, the surgeon, and Mrs. Ragg are assembled. Mrs. Ragg is "crying
her eyes out," as the saying is.
"Sit down, Mrs. Ragg," said the colonel, "sit down and compose yourself.
Come, now, there is no good done by this immoderate grief."
"But I can't help it."
"You can control it. Sit down."
"But I oughtn't to sit down. I'm the cook, you know, sir."
"Well, well; never mind that, if you are my cook. If I ask you to be
seated, you may waive all ceremony. We want to ask you a few questions,
Mrs. Ragg."
Upon this Tobias's mother did sit down, but it was upon the extreme edge
of a chair, so that the slightest touch to it in the world would have
knocked it from under her, and down she would have gone on to the floor.
"I'm sure, gentlemen, I'll answer anything I know, and more too, with