‘God grant, I had not; but alas! I have indeed. I feel that, in Thornhill, I must recognise Mark Ingestrie himself.’
‘You astonish me.’
‘It must be so, it must be so; you have described him to me, and I cannot doubt it; Mark Ingestrie and Thornhill are one; I knew that he was going to change his name when he went upon that wild adventure to the Indian sea. I was well aware of that fact.’
‘I cannot think, Miss Oakley, that you are correct in that supposition. There are many things which induce me to think otherwise; and the first and foremost of them is, that the ingenuous character of Mr Thornhill forbids the likelihood of such a thing occurring. You may depend on it it is not – cannot be, as you suppose.’
‘The proofs are too strong for me, and I find I dare not doubt them. It is so, Colonel Jeffery, as time, perchance, may show; it is sad, very sad, to think that it is so, but I dare not doubt it, now that you have described him to me exactly as he lived.’
‘I must own, that in giving an opinion on such a point to you, I may be accused of arrogance and assumption, for I have had no description of Mark Ingestrie, and never saw him; and although you never saw certainly Mr Thornhill, yet I have described him to you, and therefore you are able to judge from that description something of him.’
‘I am indeed, and I cannot – dare not doubt. It is horrible to be positive on this point to me, because I do fear with you that something dreadful has occurred, and that the barber in Fleet Street could unravel a frightful secret, if he chose, connected with Mark Ingestrie’s fate.’
‘I do sincerely hope from my heart that you are wrong; I hope it, because I tell you frankly, dim and obscure as is the hope that Mark Ingestrie may have been picked up from the wreck of his vessel, it is yet stronger than the supposition that Thornhill has escaped the murderous hands of Sweeney Todd, the barber.’
Johanna looked in his face so imploringly, and with such an expression of hopelessness, that it was most sad indeed to see her, and quite involuntarily he exclaimed, ‘If the sacrifice of my life would be to you a relief, and save you from the pangs you suffer, believe me, it should be made.’
She started as she said, ‘No, no; Heaven knows enough has been sacrificed already – more than enough, much more than enough. But do not suppose that I am ungrateful for the generous interest you have taken in me. Do not suppose that I think any the less of the generosity and nobility of soul that would offer a sacrifice, because it is one I would hesitate to accept. No, believe me, Colonel Jeffery, that among the few names that are enrolled in my breast – and such to me will ever be honoured – remember yours will be found while I live, but that will not be long – but that will not be long.’
‘Nay, do not speak so despairingly.’
‘Have I not cause for despair?’
‘Cause have you for great grief, but yet scarcely for despair. You are young yet, and let me entertain a hope that even if a feeling of regret may mingle with your future thoughts, time will achieve something in tempering your sorrow, and if not great happiness, you may know great serenity.’
‘I dare not hope it, but I know your words are kindly spoken, and most kindly meant.’
‘You may well assure yourself that they are so.’
‘I will ascertain his fate, or perish.’
‘You alarm me by those words, as well as by your manner of uttering them. Let me implore you, Miss Oakley, to attempt nothing rash; remember how weak and inefficient must be the exertions of a young girl like yourself, one who knows so little of the world, and can really understand so little of its wickedness.’
‘Affection conquers all obstacles, and the weakest and most inefficient girl that ever stepped, if she have strong within her that love which, in all its sacred intensity, knows no fear, shall indeed accomplish much. I feel that in such a cause, I could shake off all girlish terrors and ordinary alarms; and if there be danger, I would ask, what is life to me without all that could adorn it, and make it beautiful?’
‘This, indeed, is the very enthusiasm of affection, when believe me, it will lead you to some excess – to some romantic exercise of feeling, such as will bring great danger in its train, to the unhappiness of those who love you.’
‘Those who love me – who is there to love me now?’
‘Johanna Oakley, I dare not and will not utter words that come thronging to my lips, but which I fear might be unwelcome to your ears; I will not say that I can answer the questions you have asked, because it would sound ungenerous at such a time as this, when you have met me to talk of the fate of another. Oh! forgive me, that hurried away by the feeling of a moment, I have uttered these words, for I meant not to utter them.’
Johanna looked at him in silence, and it might be that there was the slightest possible tinge of reproach in her look, but it was very slight, for one glance at that ingenuous countenance would be sufficient to convince the most sceptical of the truth and single-mindedness of its owner: of this there could be no doubt whatever, and if anything in the shape of a reproach was upon the point of coming from her lips, she forbore to utter it.
‘May I hope,’ he added, ‘that I have not lowered myself in your esteem. Miss Oakley, by what I have said?’
‘I hope,’ she said gently, ‘you will continue to be my friend.’
She laid an emphasis on the word ‘friend’, and he fully understood what she meant to imply thereby, and after a moment’s pause said, –
‘Heaven forbid, that ever by word, or by action, Johanna, I should do aught to deprive myself of that privilege. Let me be your friend, since –’
He left the sentence unfinished, but if he had added the words – ‘since I can do no more’, he could not have made it more evident to Johanna that those were the words he intended to utter.
‘And now,’ he added, ‘that I hope and trust we understand each other better than we did, and you are willing to call me by the name of friend, let me once more ask you, by the privilege of such a title, to be careful of yourself, and not to risk much in order that you may perhaps have some remote chance of achieving very little.’
‘But can I endure this dreadful suspense?’
‘It is, alas! too common an affliction on human nature, Johanna. Pardon me for addressing you as Johanna.’
‘Nay, it requires no excuse. I am accustomed so to be addressed by all who feel a kindly interest for me. Call me Johanna if you will, and I shall feel a greater assurance of your friendship and your esteem.’
‘I will then avail myself of that permission, and again and again I will entreat you to leave to me the task of making what attempts may be made to discover the fate of Mr Thornhill. There must be danger even in enquiring for him, if he has met with any foul play, and therefore I ask you to let that danger be mine.’
Johanna asked herself if she should or not tell him of the scheme of operations that had been suggested by Arabella Wilmot, but, somehow or another, she shrank most wonderfully from so doing, both on account of the censure which she concluded he would be likely to cast upon it, and the romantic, strange nature of the plan itself, so she said, gently and quickly, –
‘I shall attempt nothing that shall not have some possibility of success attending it. I will be careful, you may depend, for many considerations. My father, I know, centres all his affections in me, and for his sake I will be careful.’
‘I shall be content then, and now may I hope that this day week I may see you here again, in order that I may tell you if I have made any discovery, and that you may tell me the same; for my interest in Thornhill is that of a sincere friend, to say nothing of the deep interest in your happiness which I feel, and which has now become an element in the transaction of the highest value.’
‘I will come,’ said Johanna, ‘if I can come.’
‘You do not doubt?’
‘No, no. I will come, and I hope to bring you some news of him in whom you are so much interested. It shall be no fault of mine if I come not.’
&nbs
p; He walked with her from the gardens, and together they passed the shop of Sweeney Todd, but the door was closed shut, and they saw nothing of the barber, or that of the poor boy, his apprentice, who was so much to be pitied.
He parted with Johanna near to her father’s house, and he walked slowly away with his mind so fully impressed with the excellence and beauty of the spectacle-maker’s daughter, that it was quite clear, as long as he lived, he would not be able to rid himself of the favourable impression she had made upon him.
‘I love her,’ he said; ‘I love her, but she seems in no respect willing to enchain her affections. Alas! how sad it is for me that the being whom, above all others, I could wish to call my own, instead of being a joy to me, I have only encountered that she might impart a pang to my heart. Beautiful and excellent Johanna, I love you, but I can see that your own affections are withered for ever.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Barber Makes Another Attempt to Sell the String of Pearls
It would seem as if Sweeney Todd, after his adventure in trying to dispose of the string of pearls which he possessed, began to feel a little doubtful about his chances of success in that matter, for he waited patiently for a considerable period, before he again made the attempt, and then he made it after a totally different fashion.
Towards the close of night on that same evening when Johanna Oakley had met Colonel Jeffery for the second time, in the Temple-gardens, and while Tobias sat alone in the shop in his usual deep dejection, a stranger entered the place, with a large blue bag in his hand, and looked enquiringly about him.
‘Hilloa, my lad!’ said he. ‘Is this Mr Todd’s?’
‘Yes,’ said Tobias; ‘but he is not at home. What do you want?’
‘Well, I’ll be hanged,’ said the man, ‘if this don’t beat everything; you don’t mean to tell me he is a barber, do you?’
‘Indeed I do; don’t you see?’
‘Yes, I see, to be sure; but I’ll be shot if I thought of it beforehand. What do you think he has been doing?’
‘Doing?’ said Tobias, with animation; ‘do you think he will be hanged?’
‘Why, no, I don’t say it is a hanging matter, although you seem as if you wished it was; but I’ll just tell you now we are artists at the west-end of the town.’
‘Artists! Do you mean to say you draw pictures?’
‘No, no, we make clothes; but we call ourselves artists now, because tailors are out of fashion.’
‘Oh, that’s it, is it?’
‘Yes, that’s it; and you would scarcely believe it, but he came to our shop actually, and ordered a suit of clothes, which were to come to no less a sum than thirty pounds, and told us to make them up in such a style that they were to do for any nobleman, and he gave his name and address, as Mr Todd, at this number in Fleet Street, but I hadn’t the least idea that he was a barber; if I had, I am quite certain that the clothes would not have been finished in the style they are, but quite the reverse.’
‘Well,’ said Tobias, ‘I can’t think what he wants such clothing for, but I suppose it’s all right. Was he a tall, ugly-looking fellow?’
‘As ugly as the very devil. I’ll just show you the things, as he is not at home. The coat is of the finest velvet, lined with silk, and trimmed with lace. Did you ever, in all your life, see such a coat for a barber?’
‘Indeed, I never did; but it is some scheme of his, of course. It is a superb coat.’
‘Yes, and all the rest of the dress is of the same style; what on earth can he be going to do with it I can’t think, for it’s only fit to go to court in.’
‘Oh, well, I know nothing about it,’ said Tobias, with a sigh, ‘you can leave it or not as you like, it is all one to me.’
‘Well, you seem to be the most melancholy wretch ever I came near; what’s the matter with you?’
‘The matter with me? Oh, nothing. Of course, I am as happy as I can be. Ain’t I Sweeney Todd’s apprentice, and ain’t that enough to make anybody sing all day long?’
‘It may be for all I know, but certainly you don’t seem to be in a singing humour; but, however, we artists cannot waste our time, so just be so good as to take care of the clothes, and be sure you give them to your master; and so I wash my hands of the transaction.’
‘Very good, he shall have them; but, do you mean to leave such valuable clothes without getting the money for them?’
‘Not exactly, for they are paid for.’
‘Oh! that makes all the difference – he shall have them.’
Scarcely had this tailor left the place, when a boy arrived with a parcel, and, looking around him with undisguised astonishment, said, ‘Isn’t there some other Mr Todd in Fleet Street?’
‘Not that I know of,’ said Tobias. ‘What have you got there?’
‘Silk stockings, gloves, lace, cravats, ruffles, and so on.’
‘The deuce you have; I dare say it’s all right.’
‘I shall leave them; they are paid for. This is the name, and this is the number.’
‘Now, stupid!’
This last exclamation arose from the fact that this boy, in going out, ran up against another who was coming in.
‘Can’t you see where you’re going?’ said the new arrival.
‘What’s that to you? I have a good mind to punch your head.’
‘Do it, and then come down to our court, and see what a licking I’ll give you.’
‘Will you? Why don’t you? Only let me catch you, that’s all.’
They stood for some moments so close together that their noses very nearly touched; and then after mutual assertions of what they would do if they caught each other – although, in either case, to stretch out an arm would have been quite sufficient to have accomplished that object – they separated, and the last comer said to Tobias, in a tone of irritation, probably consequent upon the misunderstanding he had just had with the hosier’s boy, ‘You can tell Mr Todd that the carriage will be ready at half-past seven precisely.’ And then he went away, leaving Tobias in a state of great bewilderment as to what Sweeney Todd could possibly be about with such an amount of finery as that which was evidently coming home for him.
‘I can’t make it out,’ he said.
‘It’s some villainy of course, but I can’t make out what it is; I wish I knew; I might thwart him in it. He is a villain, and neither could nor would project anything good; but what can I do? I am quite helpless in this, and will just let it take its course. I can only wish for a power of action I will never possess. Alas, alas! I am very sad, and know not what will become of me. I wish that I was in my grave, and there I am sure I shall be soon, unless something happens to turn the tide of all this wretched evil fortune that has come upon me.’
It was in vain for Tobias to think of vexing himself with conjectures as to what Sweeney Todd was about to do with so much finery, for he had not the remotest foundation to go upon in the matter, and could not for the life of him imagine any possible contingency or chance which should make it necessary for the barber to deck himself in such gaudy apparel.
All he could do was to lay down in his own mind a general principle as regarded Sweeney Todd’s conduct, and that consisted in the fact, that whatever might be his plans, and whatever might be his objects, they were for no good purpose; but, on the contrary, were most certainly intended for the accomplishment of some great evil which that most villainous person intended to perpetrate.
‘I will observe all I can,’ thought Tobias to himself, ‘and do what I can to put a stop to his mischiefs; but I fear it will be very little he will allow me to observe, and perhaps still less that he will allow me to do; but I can but try, and do my best.’
Poor Tobias’s best, as regarded achieving anything against Sweeney Todd, we may well suppose would be little indeed, for that individual was not the man to give anybody an opportunity of doing much; and possessed as he was of the most consummate art, as well as the greatest possible amount of unscrupulousness, there can be
very little doubt but that any attempt poor Tobias might make would recoil upon himself.
In about another half-hour the barber returned, and his first question was, ‘Have any things been left for me?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Tobias, ‘here are two parcels, and a boy has been to say that the carriage will be ready at half-past seven precisely.’
‘ ’Tis well,’ said the barber, ‘that will do; and Tobias, you will be careful, whilst I am gone, of the shop. I shall be back in half an hour, mind you, and not later; and be sure I find you here at your post. But you may say, if anyone comes here on business, that there will be neither shaving nor dressing tonight. You understand me?’
‘Yes, sir, certainly.’
Sweeney Todd then took the bundles which contained the costly apparel, and retired into the parlour with them; and, as it was then seven o’clock, Tobias correctly enough supposed that he had gone to dress himself, and he waited with a considerable amount of curiosity to see what sort of an appearance the barber would cut in his fine apparel.
Tobias had not to control his impatience long, for in less than twenty minutes out came Sweeney Todd, attired in the very height of fashion for the period. His waistcoat was something positively gorgeous, and his fingers were loaded with such costly rings that they quite dazzled the sight of Tobias to look upon; then, moreover, he wore a sword with a jewelled hilt, but it was one which Tobias really thought he had seen before, for he had a recollection that a gentleman had come in to have his hair dressed, and had taken it off, and laid just such a sword across his hat during the operation.
‘Remember,’ said Sweeney Todd, ‘remember your instructions; obey them to the letter, and no doubt you will ultimately become happy and independent.’
With these words, Sweeney Todd left the place, and poor Tobias looked after him with a groan, as he repeated the words ‘happy and independent. Alas! what a mockery it is of this man to speak to me in such a way – I only wish that I were dead!’
But we will leave Tobias to his own reflections, and follow the more interesting progress of Sweeney Todd, who, for some reason best known to himself, was then playing so grand a part, and casting away so large a sum of money. He made his way to a livery-stables in the immediate neighbourhood, and there, sure enough, the horses were being placed to a handsome carriage; and all being very soon in readiness, Sweeney Todd gave some whispered directions to the driver, and the vehicle started off westward.
The String of Pearls Page 16