He got down about half a dozen steps, but finding that no one followed him he paused, and called out--
"Remember that time is precious. Come on!"
"Why don't you go?" said the churchwarden to the beadle.
"What! Me go afore a blessed churchwarden? Conwulsions--no! I thinks and I hopes as I knows my place better."
"Well, but upon this occasion, if I don't mind it--"
"No--no, I could not. Conwulsions--no!"
"Ah!" said Sir Richard Blunt. "I see how it is; I shall have to do all this business alone, and a pretty report I shall have to make to the Secretary of State about the proceedings of the authorities of St. Dunstan's."
The churchwarden groaned.
"I'm a coming, Sir Richard--I'm a coming. Oh dear, I tell you what it is, Mr. Beadle, if you don't follow me, and close too, I'll have you dismissed as sure as eggs is eggs."
"Conwulsions! conwulsions! I'm a coming."
The churchwarden descended the stairs, and the beadle followed him. Down--down they went, guided by the dim light of the torch carried by Sir Richard, who had not waited for them after the last words he had spoken.
"Can you fetch your blessed breath, sir?" said the beadle.
"Hardly," said the churchwarden, gasping. "It is a dreadful place."
"Oh, yes--yes."
"Stop--Stop. Sir Richard--Sir Richard!"
There was no reply. The light from the torch grew more and more indistinct as Sir Richard Blunt increased his distance from them, and at length they were in profound darkness.
"I can't stand this," cried the churchwarden; and he faced about to ascend to the church again. In his effort to do so quickly, he stretched out his hand, and seized the beadle by the ancle, and as that personage was not quite so firm upon his legs as might be desired, the effort of this sudden assault was to upset him, and he rolled over upon the churchwarden, with a force that brought them both sprawling to the bottom of the little staircase together. Luckily they had not far to fall, for they had not been more than six or eight steps from the foot of the little flight. Terror and consternation for a few moments deprived each of them of the power of speech. The beadle, however, was the first to recover, and he in a stentorian voice called--
"Murder! Murder!"
Then the churchwarden joined in the cries, and they buffeted each other in vain efforts to rise, each impeding the other to a degree that rendered it a matter of impossibility for either of them to get to their feet. Mr. Vickley, who was waiting in the church above, with no small degree of anxiety, the report from below, heard these sounds of contention and calls for help with mingled horror. He at once made a rush to the door of the church, and, no doubt, would have endangered the success of all Sir Richard Blunt's plans, if he had not been caught in the arms of a tall stout man upon the very threshold of the church door.
"Help! murder! Who are you?"
"Crotchet they calls me, and Crotchet's my name. London my birth place, is yourn the same? What's the row?"
"Call a constable. There's blue murder going on in the vaults below."
"The devil there is. Just you get in there, will you, and don't you stir for your life, old fellow."
So saying, Mr. Crotchet, who knew the importance of secrecy in the whole transaction, and who had been purposely awaiting for Sir Richard Blunt, thrust Vickley into a pew, and slammed the door of it shut. Down fell the overseer to the floor, paralysed with terror; and then Mr. Crotchet at once proceeded to the opening in the floor of the church, and descended without a moment's hesitation.
"Hilloa!" he cried, as he alighted at the bottom of the stairs upon the churchwarden's back. "Hilloa, Sir Richard, where are you?"
"Here," said a voice, and with the torch nearly extinguished, Sir Richard Blunt made his appearance from the passage. "Who is there?"
"Crotchet, it is."
"Indeed. Why, what brought you here?"
"What a row."
"Why--why, what's all this? You are standing upon somebody. Why bless my heart it's--"
Out went the torch.
"Fire!--help!--murder!" shouted the beadle, "I'm being suffocated. Oh, conwulsions! Here's a death for a beadle. Murder! robbery. Fire--oh--oh--oh."
The churchwarden groaned awfully.
"Ascend, and get a light," said Sir Richard. "Quick, Crotchet, quick! God only knows what is the matter with all these people."
Both Crotchet and Sir Richard Blunt scrambled over the bodies of the churchwarden and the beadle, and soon reached the church. The churchwarden made a desperate effort, and, shaking himself free of the beadle, he ascended likewise, and rolled into a pew, upon the floor of which he sat, looking a little deranged.
"If you don't come up," said Sir Richard Blunt, directing his voice down the staircase, "we will replace the stone, and you may bid adieu to the world."
"Conwulsions!" roared the beadle. "Oh, don't--conwulsions!"
Up he tumbled, with the most marvellous celerity, and rolled into the church, never stopping until he was brought up by the steps in front of the communion-table, and there he lay, panting and glaring around him, having left his cocked hat in the regions below. Sir Richard Blunt looked ghastly pale, which Crotchet observing, induced him to take a small flask from his pocket, filled with choice brandy, which he handed to his chief.
"Thank you," said Sir Richard.
The magistrate took a draught, and then he handed it to the churchwarden, as he said--
"I'll fill it again."
"All's right."
The churchwarden took a pull at the brandy, and then the beadle was allowed to finish it. They were both wonderfully recovered.
"Oh, Sir Richard," said the churchwarden, "what have you seen?"
"Nothing particular."
"Indeed!"
"No. You can have the stone replaced as soon as you like, over the opening to the vaults."
"And you have seen nothing?" said the beadle.
"Nothing to speak of. If you have any doubts or any curiosity, you can easily satisfy yourself. There's the opening. Pray descend. You see I have escaped, so it cannot be very dangerous to do so. I will not myself go again, but I will wait for either of you, if you please. Now, gentlemen, go, and you will be able to make your own discoveries."
"Me?" cried the beadle. "Me? Oh, conwulsions! I thinks I sees me."
"Not I," said the churchwarden. "Cover it up--cover it up. I don't want to go down. I would not do so for a thousand pounds."
A covert smile was upon the lips of Sir Richard Blunt as he heard this, and he added--
"Very well; I have no objection, of course, to its being at once covered up; and I think the least that is said about it, will be the better."
"No doubt of that," said the churchwarden.
"Conwulsions! yes," said the beadle. "If I was only quite sure as all my ribs was whole, I shouldn't mind; but somebody stood a-top of me for a good quarter of an hour, I'm sure."
Some of the workmen now began to arrive, and Sir Richard Blunt pointed to them, as he said to the churchwarden--
"Then the stone can be replaced without any difficulty, now; and, sir, let me again caution you to say nothing about what has passed here to-day."
"Not a word--not a word. If you fancy somebody stood upon your ribs, Mr. Beadle, I am quite sure somebody did upon mine."
The workmen were now directed to replace the stone in its former position; and when that was completely done, and some mortar pressed into the crevices, Sir Richard Blunt gave a signal to Crotchet to follow him, and they both left the church together.
"Now, Crotchet, understand me."
"I'll try," said Crotchet.
"No one, for the future, is to be shaved in Sweeney Todd's shop alone."
"Alone?"
"Yes. You will associate with King, Morgan, and Godfrey; I will stand all necessary expenses, and one or the other of you will always follow whoever goes into the shop, and there wait until he comes out again. Make what excuses you like. Manage it how you will; but only remember, Todd is never again to have a customer all to himself."
"Humph!"
"Why do you say humph?"
"Oh, nothing partickler; only hadn't we better grab him at once?"
"No; he has an accomplice or accomplices, and their discovery is most important. I don't like to do things by halves, Crotchet; and so long as I know that no mischief will result from a little delay, and it will not, if you obey my instructions, I think it better to wait."
"Very good."
"Go at once, then, and get your brother officers, and remember that nothing is to withdraw your and their attention from this piece of business."
"All's right. You know, Sir Richard, you have only to say what's to be done, and it's as good as done. Todd may shave now as many people as he likes, but I don't think he'll polish 'em off in his old way quite so easy."
"That's right. Good day."
"When shall we see you, Sir Richard?" "About sunset."
By the time this little conversation was over, Sir Richard Blunt and Crotchet had got through Temple Bar, and then they parted, Crotchet taking his way back to Fleet Street, and Sir Richard Blunt walking hastily to Downing Street. When he got there he entered the official residence of the Secretary of State for the Home Department, and being well known to the clerk, he was at once conducted into a little room carefully hung round with crimson cloth, so as to deaden the sound of any voices that might be raised in it. In the course of a few minutes a small door was opened, and a shabby looking man entered, with a hesitating expression upon his face.
"Ah, Sir Richard Blunt," he said, "is that you?"
"Yes, your lordship, and if you are disengaged for a few minutes, I have something to communicate."
"Ah, some new plot. Confound those Jacobin rascals!"
"No, my lord, the affair is quite domestic and social. It has no shade of politics about it."
The look of interest which the face of the secretary had assumed was gone in a moment, but still he could not very well refuse now to hear what Sir Richard Blunt had to say, and the conference lasted a quarter of an hour. At its termination, as Sir Richard was leaving the room, the secretary said--
"Oh, yes, of course, take full discretionary powers, and the Home-office will pay all expenses. I never heard of such a thing in all my life."
"Nor I, my lord."
"It's really horrible."
"It is even so far as we know already, and yet I think there is much to learn. I shall, of course, communicate to your lordship anything that transpires."
"Certainly--certainly. Good day."
Sir Richard Blunt left the Secretary of State, and proceeded to his own residence, and while he is there, making some alteration in his dress, we may as well take a glance at Crotchet, and see what that energetic but somewhat eccentric individual is about. After parting with Sir Richard Blunt at Temple Bar, he walked up Fleet Street, upon Sweeney Todd's side of the way, until he overtook a man with a pair of spectacles on, and a stoop in his gait, as though age had crept upon him.
"King," said Crotchet.
"All right," said the spectacled old gentleman in a firm voice. "What's the news?"
"A long job, I think. Where's Morgan?"
"On the other side of the way."
"Well, just listen to me as we walk along, and if you see him, beckon him over to us."
As they walked along Crotchet told King what were the orders of Sir Richard Blunt, and they were soon joined by Morgan. The other officer, Godfrey, who had been mentioned by the magistrate, was sent for.
"Now," said Crotchet, "here we are, four of us, and so you see we can take it two and two for four hours at a stretch as long as this confounded barber's shop keeps open."
"But," said Morgan, "he will suspect something."
"Well, we can't help that. It's quite clear he smugs the people, and all we have got to do is to prevent him smugging any more of 'em you see."
"Well, well, we must do the best we can."
"Exactly; so now keep a bright look out, and hang it all, we have been in enough rum adventures to be able to get the better of a rascally barber, I should think. Look out--look out; there's somebody going in now."
