I could hold no communion with anyone – all alike deserted me, and I knew none who could say aught for me if I requested their goodwill.
I had serious thoughts of possessing myself of some money, and then leaving home, and staying away until I had arrived at age; but this I deferred doing, seeing that there was no means, and I could not do more than I did then – that is, to live on without any mischief happening, and wait for a few years more.
I contracted an acquaintance with a young man who came to visit my father – he came several times, and paid me more civility and attention than anyone else ever did, and I felt that he was the only friend I possessed.
It is no wonder I looked upon him as being my best and my only friend. I thought him the best and the handsomest man I ever beheld.
This put other thoughts into my head. I did not dress as others did, much less had I the opportunity of becoming possessed of many of those little trinkets that most young women of my age had.
But this made no alteration in the good opinion of the young gentleman, who took no notice of that, but made me several pretty presents.
These were treasures to me, and I must say I gloated over them, and often, when alone, I have spent hours in admiring them; trifling as they were, they made me happier. I knew now one person who cared for me, and a delightful feeling it was too. I shall never know it again – it is quite impossible.
Here among the dark walls and unwholesome cells we have no cheering ray of life or hope – all is dreary and cold; a long and horrible imprisonment takes place, to which there is no end save with life, and in which there is not one mitigating circumstance – all is bad and dark. God help me!
However, my dream of happiness was soon disturbed. By some means my parents had got an idea of this, and the young man was dismissed the house, and forbidden to come to it again. This he determined to do, and more than once we met, and then in secret I told him all my woes.
When he had heard all I had said, he expressed the deepest commiseration, and declared I had been most unjustly and harshly treated, and thought that there was not a harder or harsher treatment than that which I had received.
He then advised me to leave home.
‘Leave home,’ I said; ‘where shall I fly? I have no friend.’
‘Come to me, I will protect you, I will stand between you and all the world; they shall not stir hand or foot to your injury.’
‘But I cannot, dare not do that; if they found me out, they would force me back with all the ignominy and shame that could be felt from having done a bad act; not any pity would they show me.’
‘Nor need you; you would be my wife, I mean to make you my wife.’
‘You?’
‘Yes! I dreamed not of anything else. You shall be my wife; we will hide ourselves, and remain unknown to all until the time shall have arrived when you are of age – when you can claim all your property, and run no risk of being poisoned or killed by any other means.’
‘This is a matter,’ said I, ‘that ought to be considered well before adopting anything as violent or so sudden.’
‘It is; and it is not one that I think will injure by being reflected upon by those who are the principal actors; for my own part my mind is made up, and I am ready to perform my share of the engagement.’
I resolved to consider the matter well in my own mind, and felt every inclination to do what he proposed, because it took me away from home, and because it would give me one of my own.
My parents had become utterly estranged from me; they did not act as parents, they did not act as friends, they had steeled my heart against them; they never could have borne any love to me, I am sure of it, who could have committed such great crimes against me.
As the hour drew near, that in which I was likely to become an object of still greater hatred and dislike to them, I thought I was often the subject of their private thoughts, and often when I entered the room my mother, and father, and the rest, would suddenly leave off speaking, and look at me, as if to ascertain if I had ever heard them say anything. On one occasion I remember very well I heard them conversing in a low tone. The door happened to have opened of itself, the hasp not having been allowed to enter the mortice; I heard my name mentioned: I paused and listened.
‘We must soon get rid of her,’ said my mother.
‘Undoubtedly,’ he replied; ‘if we do not, we shall have her about our ears: she’ll get married, or some infernal thing, and then we shall have to refund.’
‘We could prevent that.’
‘Not if her husband was to insist upon it, we could not; but the only plan I can now form is what I told you of already.’
‘Putting her in a mad-house?’
‘Yes: there, you see, she will be secured, and cannot get away. Besides, those who go there die in a natural way before many years.’
‘But she can speak.’
‘So she may; but who attends to the ravings of a mad woman? No, no; depend upon it that is the best plan: send her to a lunatic asylum – a private mad-house. I can obtain all that is requisite in a day or two.’
‘Then we will consider that settled.’
‘Certainly.’
‘In a few days, then?’
‘Before next Sunday; because we can enjoy ourselves on that day without any restraint, or without any uncomfortable feelings of uncertainty about us.’
I waited to hear no more: I had heard enough to tell me what I had to expect. I went back to my own room, and having put on my bonnet and shawl I went out to see the individual to whom I have alluded, and saw him.
I then informed him of all that had taken place, and heard him exclaim against them in terms of rising indignation.
‘Come to me,’ he said; ‘come to me at once.’
‘Not at once.’
‘Don’t stop a day.’
‘Hush!’ said I; ‘there’s no danger: I will come the day after tomorrow; and then I will bid adieu to all these unhappy moments, to all these persecutions; and in three years’ time I shall be able to demand my fortune, which will be yours.’
We were to meet the next day but one, early in the morning – there were not, in fact, to be more than thirty hours elapse before I was to leave home – if home I could call it – however there was no time to be lost. I made up a small bundle and had all in readiness, before I went to bed, and placed in security, intending to rise early and let myself out and leave the house.
That, however, was never to happen. While I slept, at a late hour of the night, I was awakened by two men standing by my bedside, who desired me to get up and follow them. I refused, and they pulled me rudely out of bed.
I called out for aid, and exclaimed against the barbarity of their proceedings.
‘It is useless to listen to her,’ said my father, ‘you know what a mad woman will say!’
‘Ay, we do,’ replied the men, ‘they are the cunningest devils we ever heard. We have seen enough of them to know that.’
To make the matter plain, I was seized, gagged, and thrust into a coach, and brought here, where I have remained ever since.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Rapid Journey to London of Tobias
There was something extremely touching in the tone, and apparently in the manner, in which the poor persecuted one detailed the story of her wrongs, and she had the tribute of a willing tear from Tobias.
‘After the generous confidence you have had in me,’ he said, ‘I ought to tell you something of myself.’
‘Do so,’ she replied, ‘we are companions in misfortune.’
Tobias then related to her at large all about Sweeney Todd’s villainies, and how at length he, Tobias, had been placed where he was, for the purpose of silencing his testimony of the evil and desperate practices of the barber. After that, he related to her what he had overheard about the intention to murder him that night, and he concluded by saying, –
‘If you have any plan of escape from this horrible place, let me implore you t
o tell it to me, and let us put it into practice tonight, and if we fail, death is at any time preferable to continued existence here.’
‘It is – it is – listen to me.’
‘I will indeed,’ said Tobias; ‘you will say you never had such attention as I will now pay to you.’
‘You must know, then, that this cell is paved with flagstones, as you see, and that the wall here at the back forms likewise part of the wall of an old wood-house in the garden, which is never visited.’
‘Yes, I understand.’
‘Well, as I have been here so long, I managed to get up one of the flagstones that forms the flooring here, and to work under the wall with my hands – a slow labour, and one of pain, until I managed to render a kind of excavation, one end of which is here, and the other in the wood-house.’
‘Glorious! said Tobias, ‘I see – I see – go on.’
‘I should have made my escape if I could, but the height of the garden wall has always been the obstacle. I thought of tearing this miserable quilt into strips, and making a sort of rope of it; but then how was I to get it on the wall? You, perhaps, will, with your activity and youth, be able to accomplish this.’
‘Oh, yes, yes! you’re right enough there; it is not a wall that shall stop me.’
They waited until, from a church clock in the vicinity, they heard ten strike, and then they began operations. Tobias assisted his new friend to raise the stone in the cell, and there, immediately beneath, appeared the excavation leading to the wood-house, just sufficiently wide for one person to creep through.
It did not take long to do that, and Tobias took with him a piece of work, upon which he had been occupied for the last two hours, namely, the quilt torn up into long pieces, twisted and tied together, so that it formed a very tolerable rope, which Tobias thought would sustain the weight of his companion.
The wood-house was a miserable-looking hole enough, and Tobias at first thought that the door of it was fastened, but by a little pressure it came open; it had only stuck through the dampness of the woodwork at that low point of the garden.
And now they were certainly both of them at liberty, with the exception of surmounting the wall, which rose frowningly before them in all its terrors.
There was a fine cool fresh air in the garden, which was indeed most grateful to the senses of Tobias, and he seemed doubly nerved for anything that might be required of him after inhaling that delicious cool, fresh breeze. There grew close to the wall one of those beautiful mountain-ash trees, which bend over into such graceful foliage, and which are so useful in the formation of pretty summerhouses. Tobias saw that if he ascended to the top of this tree, there would not be much trouble in getting from there to the wall.
‘We shall do it,’ he said, ‘we shall succeed.’
‘Thank God, that I hear you say so,’ replied his companion.
Tobias tied one end of the long rope they had made of the quilt to his waist, so that he might carry it up with him, and yet leave him free use of hands and feet, and then he commenced, with great activity, ascending the tree. In three minutes he was on the wall.
The moon shone sweetly. There was not a tree or house in the vicinity that was not made beautiful now, in some portions of it, by the sweet, soft light that poured down upon them.
Tobias could not resist pausing a moment to look around him upon the glorious scene: but the voice of her for whom he was bound to do all that was possible, aroused him.
‘Oh, Tobias!’ she said, ‘quick, quick – lower the rope; oh, quick!’
‘In a moment – in a moment,’ he cried.
The top of the wall was here and there armed with iron spikes, and some of these formed an excellent grappling place for the torn quilt. In the course of another minute Tobias had his end of it secure.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘can you climb up by it, do you think? Don’t hurry about it. Remember, there is no alarm, and for all we know we have hours to ourselves yet.’
‘Yes, yes – oh, yes – thank God!’ he heard her say.
Tobias was not where he could, by any exertion of strength, render her now the least assistance, and he watched the tightening of the frail support by which she was gradually climbing to the top of the wall with the most intense and painful interest that can be imagined.
‘I come – I come,’ she said, ‘I am saved.’
‘Come slowly – for God’s sake do not hurry.’
‘No, no.’
At this moment Tobias heard the frail rope giving way: there was a tearing sound – it broke, and she fell.
Lights, too, at that unlucky moment, flashed from the house, and it was now evident an alarm had been given. What could he do? If two could not be saved, one could be saved.
He turned, and flung his feet over the wall, he hung by his hands, as low as he could, and then he dropped the remainder of the distance.
He was hurt, but in a moment he sprang to his feet, for he felt that safety could only lie in instant and rapid flight.
The terror of pursuit was so strong upon him that he forgot his bruises.
‘Thank Heaven,’ exclaimed Tobias, ‘I am at last free from that horrible place. Oh, if I can but reach London now, I shall be safe; and as for Sweeney Todd, let him beware, for a day of retribution for him cannot be far off.’
So saying, Tobias turned his steps towards the city, and at a hard trot, soon left Peckham Rye far behind him as he pursued his route.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Announcement in Sweeney Todd’s Window. Johanna Oakley’s Adventure.
Having thus far traced Tobias’s career, we are the better enabled to turn now our exclusive attention to the proceedings of Johanna Oakley, who, we cannot help thinking, is about to commence a most dangerous adventure.
The advice which had been given to her by her romantic young friend, Arabella Wilmot, had from the first taken a strong hold upon her imagination; and the more she had thought it over, and the more she found the others failed, in procuring any tidings of her lost lover, the more intent she was upon carrying it out.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘yes, true love will accomplish very great wonders; and what force or ability will fail at, confident affection even of a mere girl may succeed in. ’Tis true I risk my life; but what is life to me without what made it desirable? What is continued existence to me, embittered with the constant thought that such a dreadful mystery hangs over the fate of Mark Ingestrie?’
So it will be seen it was partly despair, and partly a kind of presentiment she had that success would attend her enterprise, that induced her to go to Sweeney Todd’s.
There was a placard in Todd’s window, which bore the following announcement:
Wanted: a lad. One of strict religious principles preferred.
Apply within.
The fact is, as we have said, although Sweeney Todd now, from the sale of the string of pearls, had the means of retiring from his avocations, and fully meant to do so, he did not think it prudent to hurry over such a step, and was resolved to wait until all noise and enquiry, if any were made, about the pearls had subsided; and therefore was it that he found it necessary to provide himself with a new boy, who, for all he cared, might share the fate of poor Tobias – that fate which Sweeney Todd considered certain, but concerning which the reader is better informed.
‘Ah,’ muttered Todd to himself, ‘I like boys of a religious turn. They are much easier managed, for the imagination in such cases has been cultivated at the expense of the understanding. Hilloa, who have we here?’
Todd was stropping a razor, and peering out into the street while he spoke, and he saw a decent-looking young lad of remarkably handsome exterior, stop at the window, and read the tempting announcement. The lad advanced a step towards the door, hesitated, retreated, and then advanced again, as if he wished to apply for the vacant situation, and yet dreaded to do so.
‘Who can he be?’ said Todd, as he looked curiously at him. ‘He don’t seem the likely sort to apply fo
r the situation of barber’s boy.’
Todd was right enough there, for this seeming lad was no other than Johanna Oakley; and little, indeed, did she seem as if she belonged to the rough class from whom Sweeney Todd, the barber, might be supposed to find a lad for his shop.
In another moment she entered the shop, and was face to face with the man whom she might fairly consider to be the bane of her young existence, if what was suspected of him were true.
Todd fixed his strange glance upon her; but he was silent, for it was no rule of his to speak first, and Johanna felt constrained to commence the rather embarrassing conversation.
‘You are in want of a lad, sir,’ she said, ‘to mind your shop, I suppose?’
‘Yes.’
Johanna had certainly hoped for a longer answer; but as Todd was silent, she had now no recourse but to go on.
‘I shall be glad to take the situation.’
‘Who are you? You don’t seem likely to want such a place. Who and what are you?’
Johanna had her story ready, for of course she had anticipated questions being asked of her; so she replied, with a readiness that did not seem at all forced, ‘I am an orphan, I was left in the care of a mother-in-law; I don’t like her, she was cruel to me, and I ran away.’
‘Where from?’
‘Oxford.’
‘Oxford, Oxford,’ muttered Todd; ‘then nobody knows you in London, I suppose, my little lad?’
‘No one. I have come to town comfortably enough, in a wagon; but, if I don’t get something to do, I shall have to go back, which I don’t like the idea of at all. I’d rather be anything in London, than go back to Mrs Green.’
‘Green, and what’s your name?’
‘Charley Green, of course; you sees my name’s the same as hers, because she married my father.’
‘Oh, you won’t suit me; you ain’t the sort of boy I want.’
‘Sorry I troubled you, sir,’ said Johanna, as she turned carelessly and left the shop without making the least attempt to move the barber’s determination, or even looking behind her.
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