We left Johanna in rather an awkward situation. The two graziers were in Todd's shop, and she--at the pronunciation of the word "pearl," which had too forcibly at the moment reminded her of the String of Pearls, which no doubt had been fatal to Mark Ingestrie--had dropped the soap-dish, and covered her face with her hands.
"What is this?" cried Todd.
"What, sir?"
"What is that, I say? What do you mean by that, you stupid hound? If I only--"
He advanced in a threatening attitude with a razor in his hand; but Johanna quickly saw what a fault she had committed, and felt that, if she were to hope to do any good by her visit to Todd's shop, she must leave all such manifestations of feelings outside the threshold.
"I have broken it," she said.
"To be sure you have; but--"
"And then, you see, sir, I was overcome at the moment by the thought that as this was my first day here, how stupid you would think me."
"Stupid, indeed."
"Poor little chap," said one of the graziers. "Let him off this once, Mr. Barber--he seems a delicate little lad."
Todd smiled. Yes, Todd admirably got up a smile, or a something that looked like a smile. It was a contortion of feature which did duty for a piece of amiability upon his face; and, in a voice that he no doubt fully intended should be dulcet and delightful, he spoke--
"I'm quite a fool to my feelings and to my good nature," he said. "Lord bless you, gentlemen, I could not hurt a fly--not I. I used at school to be called Affectionate Todd."
"In joke?" said one of the graziers.
"No, gentlemen, no; in earnest."
"You don't say so! Well, my boy, you see no harm will come to you, as your master forgives you about the soap-dish, and we are in no sort of hurry."
"Well," said Todd, as he bustled about for another article in which to mix the lather. "Well, do you know, sir, I'm so glad to hear that you are in no hurry."
"Indeed?"
"Yes, sir; because, if you are strangers in London both of you, it will give you an opportunity of seeing some of the curiosities, which will do for you to talk of when you get home, you know."
"Why, that would take too much time."
"Not at all, sir. Now, for example--Charley, my dear, whip up that lather--there's the church of St. Dunstan's, which, although I say it--Now, Charley, look sharp--is one of the greatest of London curiosities. The figures at the clock I allude to more particularly. I think you said the whiskers were to be left just as they are, sir?"
"Yes."
"Well then, gentlemen, if you have never seen the figures in the front of old St. Dunstan's strike the chimes, it's one of those things that it's quite a pity to leave London without watching narrowly. They may talk of the Tower, sir, or of the wild beasts at Exeter Change; but give me for a sight where there is real ingenuity, the figures striking the chimes at old St. Dunstan's."
"Indeed?"
"Yes. Let me see. Ah, it's just a half hour nearly now, and your friend can go, although you are being shaved, and then by the time you are comfortably finished off, the next quarter will be getting on. Charley?"
"Yes, sir."
"Put on your cap, and go with that gentleman to St. Dunstan's. You must cross over the way, and then you will soon see the old church and the two figures, as large as life, and five times as natural."
Johanna took up the cap she had worn in her disguise, and stood by the door.
"Why don't you go, Bill?" said the grazier who was being shaved.
"Why, the fact is," said the other, "I would not give a pin's head to see it without you. Do you know, Mr. Barber, he makes such comical remarks at anything, that it's worth one half the fun to hear him? Oh, no, I can't go without him."
"Very good," said Todd, "then I'll finish him off, and you shall both go together in a few moments, though I am afraid you will miss this time of the chimes striking."
There was now a silence of a few moments' duration in the shop; but nothing in the shape of rage or disappointment was visible in the manner of Todd, although both of those passions were struggling at his heart.
"Now, sir," he said at length, and with a whisk he took the cloth from under the grazier's chair. "That will do; I thank you, sir. Towel and plenty of water in that corner, sir."
"Thank you."
"No, I shall do," said the other grazier, in reply to a mute imitation from Todd to sit down in the shaving chair, "I shall do pretty well, I thank you, till to-morrow."
"Very good, sir. Hope I shall have the pleasure of your patronage another time, as well as your recommendation, gentlemen."
"You may depend," said the grazier, who had been shaved, "that we shall do all we can for you, and shall not lose sight of you."
Todd bowed like a Frenchman, and the graziers left the shop. No sooner was the door closed upon them, than his countenance altered, as if by magic, and the most wofully diabolical expression came over it, as with eyes flashing with rage, he cried--
"Curses on you both! But I will have one of you, yet. May the bitterest curse of--but, no matter, I--"
"What, sir?" said Johanna. "What do you say, sir?"
"Hell's fury! what is that to you? Do dare you, you devil's cub, to ask me what I said? By all that's furious, I'll tear out your teeth with red-hot pincers, and scoop your eyes from their gory sockets with an old oyster knife. D--n you, I'll--I'll flay you!"
Johanna shrank back aghast. The pure spirit of the young girl, that had been used to little else but words of love and kindness, started at the furious and brutal abuse that was launched at it by Todd.
"Did I not tell you," he continued, "that I would have no prying--no peeping--no remarking about this or the other? I'll crush the life out of you, as I would that from a mad dog!"
A strange howling cry at the door at this moment came upon the ears of Todd. His countenance changed, and his lips moved as though he was still saying something, but he had not power to give it audibly. At length, somewhat mastering his emotion, he said--
"What--what's that?"
"A dog, sir."
"A dog! Confound all dogs."
Another howl, and a violent scratching at the door, was farther and most conclusive evidence of the canine character of the visitor.
"Charley," said Todd, in quite a soft tone--"Charley."
"Yes, sir."
"Take the poor dog something to eat--or--or to drink, rather I should say. You will find a saucer in yon cupboard, with some milk in it. If--if he only, bless him, takes one lick at it, I shall be satisfied. You know, Charley, God made all things, and we should be good to his creatures."
"Yes, sir," said Johanna, with a shudder.
She went to the cupboard, and found the saucer, in which there seemed to be a drop of fresh milk. She walked to the door, while Todd, as though he did not feel by any means sure of the pacific intentions of the dog, at once rushed into his back parlour, and locked himself in. Todd had a peep-hole from the back parlour into the shop, but he could not see further than the shop door. Moreover, Johanna's back was towards him, so he could only guess at what was going on if the dog did not actually come across the threshold. That the milk which Todd was so solicitous should be given to the dog was poisoned, occurred to Johanna in a moment; and just before opening the door, she threw it into a corner, upon some loose shavings, and odds and ends of waste paper, that were there. Johanna then opened the door. In an instant Hector, the large dog of the unfortunate Thornhill, whose identity with Mark Ingestrie appeared to be so established in the mind of Johanna, sprang upon her with an angry growl. It was only for one brief moment, however, that Hector made any such mistake as fancying Johanna to be Sweeney Todd; and then he, with an affectionate whine, licked the hands of the young girl.
"Pison! Pison!" cried a loud voice, and in another moment, the ostler, from the coach-office opposite, rushed to the door, and caught the dog around the neck.
"Ah, there ye is agin. Why, what a goose of a feller you is, to be sure, Pison. Don't you know, now, as well as I do, that that barber will do you a mischief yet, you great blockhead you? Come home, will yer? Come home, now. Come along wi' yer!"
"Yes--yes," said Johanna. "Take him away--take him away."
"Won't I, that's all. I suppose you are a young shaver? Only let me catch you a-interfering with Pison, that's all, and won't I let you know what's what, young feller."
The ostler having uttered this most uncalled-for threat to poor Johanna, took Pison in triumph over the way. Johanna closed the door.
"Is he gone?" said Todd.
"Yes, sir."
"And the milk? Is that gone, likewise?"
"Every drop of it."
"Ha! ha! ha! Well--well. Only to think, now. Ha! ha! I hope that milk won't disagree with the noble animal. How fond I am of him! How often he has been over here, in his little pretty playful way, to try and bite pieces out of my legs. Bless him. If now that milk should give him a stomach ache, what a pity it would be. Did I hear a man's voice?"
"Yes, sir; some man came and called the dog away."
"How good of him, and what a pity it would have been if he had called the noble animal away before the milk was all consumed. Dear me, some people would grudge a creature a drop of milk. A-hem--Charley?"
"Yes, sir."
"I am going out."
Johanna's heart beat rapidly.
"If any one should come, you can say it is of no use their waiting, for I am gone to shave and dress a whole family, at some distance off, and may not be back for some hours; but, Charley, for your own private information, let me tell you that I may look in at any moment, and that, although I shall be busy, I shall be able to come in for a minute or so, when I am least expected."
Todd gave an awful leer at Johanna as he spoke.
"Yes, sir," she said.
Todd carefully locked the parlour door.
"Charley. How do you like your place?"
"Very well, sir; and I think in a little time I shall like it better."
"Good lad! Good lad! Well, well. Perhaps I ought not to say too much so soon, but if you merit my esteem, Charley, I shall do as much for you as I did for the last lad I had. After some term of service with me, I provided him with an independant home. A large house, and a garden. Ha!"
"How very kind."
"Yes. Very."
"And is he happy?"
"Quite, in a manner of speaking, notwithstanding human nature is prone to be discontented, and there are persons, who would sigh, if in Paradise, for some change, even if it were to a region supposed to be its opposite zone. Charley, however, I think will be of a different mind; and when your time comes--which it certainly will--Ha!--to reap the fruits of your service with me, I am sure that no one will hear you complain."
"I will not be ungrateful sir."
"Well, well, we shall see; and now while I am gone let there be no peeping or prying about. No attempts to open doors or force locks. No scrambling to look upon shelves or raking in odd corners. If you do--I--Ha! ha! I will cut your throat, Charley, with the bluntest razor I have. Ha!"
Todd had got on his gloves by this time, and then he left the shop. Johanna was alone! Yes, there she was, at last, alone in that dreadful place, which now for days upon days had been food for her young imagination. There she was in that place, which her waking thoughts and her dreams had alike peopled with horrors. There she was between those walls, which had perchance echoed to the last despairing death cry of him whom she had loved better than life itself. There she was in the 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.
