The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
very atmosphere of murders. His blood might form part of the stains that
were upon the dingy walls and the begrimed floor. Oh, it was horrible!
"God help me now! God help me now!" said Johanna, as she covered her
face with her hands and wept convulsively.
She heard a faint sound. It was the chiming of St. Dunstan's clock, and
she started. It put her in mind that time, her great ally, now was
fleeting.
"Away tears!" she cried as she dashed the heavy moisture from her long
eye-lashes. "Away tears! I have been strong in purpose. I have already
waded through a sea of horrors, and I must be firm now. The time has
come. The time that I looked forward to when I thus attired myself, and
thought it possible to deceive this dreadful man. Courage! Courage! I
have now much to do."
First she crept to the door and looked out into the street. A vague
suspicion that Todd, after all, might only be watching near at hand,
somewhere, took possession of her. She looked long and anxiously to the
right and to the left, but she saw nothing of him. Then she fastened the
door upon the inside.
"If he should return very suddenly," she said, "I shall have notice of
it by his efforts to open the door. That will give me a moment for
preparation possibly."
Then with such an anxious look as no language could do justice to in its
delineation, Johanna looked round the shop. Where was she to begin her
investigation? There were drawers, cupboards, chests, shelves. What was
she to look at first? or was she in dread of some contrivances of Todd's
to find out that she had looked at all, yet at this the last moment,
forego the risk and rush into the street and so home?
"No, no! I am in God's hands," she said, "and I will not flinch."
And yet, although she felt that she was quite alone in that place, how
cautiously she trod. How gently she touched one thing and then another,
and with what a shudder she laid her hand for a moment to steady
herself, upon the arm of the shaving chair. By so leaning upon it she
found that it was a fixture; and upon a further examination of it, she
found that it was nailed or screwed to the floor firmly. It was an old
fashioned massive chair, with a wide deep reclining seat. A strange
feeling of horror came over her as she regarded it.
CHAPTER LXXI.
THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER.
What was there in the chair that Johanna should for some few moments,
now that she had begun to look at it, not be able to take her eyes off
it? She tried to shake it, but it was as fast as a rock, and for all she
knew it was quite usual to have a shaving chair fixed to the floor. In
all likelihood it was in the best position for light which the dingy
shop afforded. She left the chair at last, and then a large cupboard in
one corner of the room attracted her attention. It was locked. In vain
did she try to force it open. It would not yield. She tried, too, the
parlour door without effect. That was quite fast; but as she turned the
handle of the lock, she fancied she heard, or she really did hear
something move in the room. A faint feeling came over her for a moment,
and she was glad to hold by the wall, close at hand, to support herself.
"It must have been fancy," she said faintly. "I am learning nothing, and
the time is flying fast."
A kind of counter ran parallel to the window, and beneath it was a space
covered in by doors. Todd surely had forgotten that, for one of the
doors was open. Johanna looked in and beheld quite a collection of
sticks and umbrellas. Some clothing too lay upon the lowest shelf. With
trembling hands, Johanna pulled at the sleeve of some article and found
it to be a jacket, such as a sailor of the better sort might wear, for
it was exquisitively fine, and had no end of silver buttons upon it. Her
sight was dimmed by tears, as she said to herself--
"Oh, God! was this his?"
She held the jacket up to the light, and she found the breast portion of
it stained, and all the buttons there tarnished. What was it but blood?
The blood of the hapless wearer of that article of dress, that produced
such an effect; but yet how was she to prove to herself that it had been
Mark Ingestrie? Then it was that the thought struck her of how ill
conceived had been that undertaking, which might, in the midst of all
its frightful dangers, only end in furnishing her with more food for the
most horrible surmises, without banishing one sad image of her
imagination, or confirming one dreadful dream of the fate of her lover.
"'Tis all in vain!" she gasped. "All in vain! I shall know nothing, and
only feel more desolate. It would be a mercy if that were to kill me!
Ah! no. Not yet--not yet!"
Some one was trying the handle of the shop door. With frightful energy
Johanna hid the jacket, but not in its proper place, for she only thrust
it beneath the cushion of a chair close at hand, and then shutting the
door of the receptacle beneath the counter, she rose to her feet, and
with a face pale as monumental marble, and her hands clasped rigidly,
she said--
"Who--who is there?"
"Hilloa! Open the door!" said a voice.
Some one again tried the handle, and then kicked vigorously at the lower
panel.
"Patience," said Johanna, "patience."
She opened the door.
"Is Mr. Todd at hand?" said a lad.
"No--no."
"You are his boy, are you not?"
"I am."
"Then take this."
The lad handed a sealed letter to Johanna, and in a moment left the
door. She held the letter in her hand scarcely looking at it. Of course
she thought it was for Todd, but after a few moments her eyes fell upon
the superscription, and there, to her surprise, she read as follows--
"To Miss Oakley, who is requested to read the enclosed quickly, and
secretly, and then to destroy it."
To tear open the letter was the work of a moment. The sheet of paper
tumbled in Johanna's hands as she read as follows--
"From Sir Richard Blunt to Miss Oakley.
"Miss Oakley, the expedition upon which you are at present says much
more for your courage and chivalrous spirit than it can ever say for
your discretion or the discretion of her who permitted you so far to
commit your life to such chances. You should, considering your youth
and sex, have left it to others to carry out such schemes; and it is
well that those others are aware of your position, and so, in a
great measure, enabled to shield you from, perhaps, the worst
consequences of your great indiscretion, for it cannot be called
anything else.
"Your young friend, Miss Wilmot, herself awakened, when, thank God,
it was not too late, to the utter romantic character of the office,
and communicated all to me. I blame both you and her very much
indeed, and cannot speak in too strong language of the reprehensible
character of your expedition; and now, my dear girl, do not be under
any kind of apprehension, for you are well looked after, and Sweeney
Todd shall not hurt a hair of your head.
"If you should find yourself in any danger, seize the first small
heavy article at hand and throw it, with all the strength you can,
through the shop window. Assistance will immediately come to you.
"And now, as you are where you are, I pray you to have confidence in
me, and to remain until some one shall come to you and say 'St.
Dunstan,' upon which you will know that he is a friend, and you will
follow his directions.
"God bless you.--
"RICHARD BLUNT."
Every word of this letter fell like sunshine upon the heart of Johanna,
and she could not help mentally ejaculating--
"I am saved--I am saved! Yes--yes? I am not deserted. Strong, bold, good
men will look to me. Oh! what kindness breathes in every sentence of
this letter! Yes--yes; I am not forsaken--not forsaken!"
Tears came into the eyes of the young girl, and she wept abundantly. Her
overcharged heart was relieving itself. After a few moments she began to
be more composed, and had just crumpled up the letter and cast it into
the fire for fear of accidents, when a shadow darkened the door-way, she
saw Todd looking in above the curtain that was over the upper half of
the door, and partially concealed some panes of glass that were let into
it. As soon as Todd saw Johanna's eyes upon him, he entered the shop.
"What's that?" he said, pointing to the burning letter.
"Paper, sir."
"What paper?"
"A bill that a boy left. Something about Churchwardens, sir, and the
parish of St. Brides, Fleet Street, and how things mean to--"
"Bah! any one else been?"
"No, sir."
Todd stood in the middle of the shop, and cast his eyes slowly round
him, to see that all was as he had left. Then in a low growling tone, he
added--
"No peeping and prying, eh? No rummaging in odd corners, and looking at
things that don't concern you, eh?"
"Certainly not, sir."
Johanna crept close to the counter upon which lay a tolerably large
piece of stone used for grinding razors upon. She thought that would do
very well to throw through the window, and she kept an eye upon it with
that intent, if such an act should by a trick of Todd's appear to be
necessary. Todd took the key of the parlour-door from his pocket, and
placed it in the lock. Before he opened the door, though, he turned the
handle, and as he did so Johanna thought that he inclined his head and
listened attentively. She threw down a chair, which made a lumbering
noise.
"Confound you," roared Todd.
He passed into the parlour; but in a moment, with a glance of fury, he
looked out, saying--
"You tried this door?"
"I, sir?" said Johanna, creeping closer still to the sharpening stone.
"Yes, villain, you. At least, I think so--I am pretty sure; but mark me,
if I were quite sure, you should suffer for it."
He closed the door again; and then when he was alone, he placed his two
hands upon his head for a few moments, and said--
"What does it mean? A boy brought him a letter; I saw him come and go.
At least it looked like a letter. Could it be the bill he spoke of, and
then the sudden upset of that chair, which prevented me from hearing if
the piece of cat-gut I had fastened to the handle of the door had been
moved, before I touched it or not. I will kill him. That is safe. It is
the only plan; I will kill all who is now in my way. All--all. Yes, I
will, if needs be, wade up to my neck in blood to the accomplishment of
my wishes."
Todd went to a cupboard and got out a large knife, such as is used by
slaughtermen in the shambles, and hid it under the table cover, but in
such a place that he could lay hold of it and draw it out in a moment.
"Charley," he cried, "Charley."
"Yes, sir."
"Step in here a moment; I want you, my boy."
"Shall I or shall I not," thought Johanna. "Is this danger, or only the
appearance of it? Heaven direct me now! Oh, what shall I do? What shall
I do?"
"Charley? Are you coming, my boy?"
"Yes, sir, I--I am coming. God protect me!"
"The barber at home?" cried a voice at the door; and in another moment a
man with a ruddy, jolly-looking countenance, made his appearance in the
shop. "Barber at home, eh? my little lad?"
"Yes--yes."
Johanna heard a bitter execration come from the lips of Todd; and then
with quite a serene smile upon his face, as though he were in the most
unruffled mood possible, he made his appearance.
"Could you make me a wig?" said the man, taking off his hat, and showing
that his hair was closely cropped.
"Certainly, sir. If you will sit down and allow me to measure your head,
I shall have great pleasure--Charley!"
"Yes, Sir."
"You can go to Lovett's, in Bell-yard, and get your dinner now. There's