CHAPTER CLIII.

TODD ASTONISHES THE BEADLE, AND ESCAPES PROM ST. DUNSTAN'S.

"Oh!" groaned Todd to himself. "Oh, if I had but shot the villain before

the other one came up from the vaults, and all would have been well; but

I cannot shoot them both at once. It is not often that I lose anything

by procrastination, but I have now--Oh, yes, I have now! It is

maddening!--It is quite maddening! and I could find in my own heart

almost to turn this pistol against my own life, only that I hope yet to

live a little while for vengeance."

A smart tap came against the church door.

"Open the door, Crotchet," said Sir Richard. "We are alone in the church

now, for the beadle was too careful of himself to remain after he found

that there was some little danger."

"Oh, sir," said Crotchet, with an expression of disgust in his face,

"beadles is humbugs, sir; and this beadle of St. Dunstan's is the very

worst of the worst of beadles. Didn't you notice, sir, what an old

humbug he was before, when we was a-coming here on the hunt about Todd

and that beautiful creature Mrs. Lovett? Then, sir, we found out what

sort of a beadle that was. I rather think I despises beadles, sir; I

does, your worship."

Tap came the knock at the church door again.

"You forget, Crotchet," said Sir Richard, pointing to the door.

"Lor, yer worship, so I did. I begs his blessed pardon whosomever it is.

Come in. There's nobody but the right sort here, whoever it is. Hilloa!

it's our friend, Green."

"Ah, Green, are you looking for me?" said Sir Richard.

"I was, sir."

"Then you have news. What is it?"

"Todd is in the neighbourhood, sir, or was an hour or two ago, I am well

assured."

"Todd?"

"Yes, sir. He was in his own house. A man came to the door of it to see

the person minding it, and the door was opened a little way, and Todd

tried to pull him in, and would have pulled him in, but his neckcloth

gave way, and then the fire broke out directly after. The man has been

in too great a fright till just a little while ago to venture into the

street again."

"You have seen him?"

"I have, sir."

"Bring him here, Green."

Green immediately left the church, and Mr. Crotchet set up a long and

melancholy whistle.

"In my heart I thought this might be," said Sir Richard, "and yet having

no evidence to justify the suggestion of my fancy, I did not like to

nurse the idea. Todd in this neighbourhood--Todd in his own house! Oh,

what a chance!"

"Your worship," said Crotchet, shaking his head and speaking slowly,

with an appearance of great wisdom. "Your worship, it's mostly always

the case. There's a special providence that always brings back folks as

has done a murder back again to the place where they has done it; and

the next time I'm on the lay for a cove as has done a slaughtering job,

I shall sit myself down, yer worship, in the room where he did it and

wait for him. It's a special thing of Providence, it is, sir, I feel as

sure as though I did it myself, as isn't Providence at all, but just

Crotchet, and no sort of mistake."

"You are right, Crotchet, as far as examples go. We will only just

listen to what this man that Green has gone for has got to say, and then

we will be off and do our best."

"Yes, yer worship, we will; and here he is."

Green, the officer, now brought into the church the very man with whom

Todd had had the little adventure at the door of his shop; and

notwithstanding the time that had elapsed since that little incident,

the man was still in a state of terror, which was quite manifest in

every feature of his face.

"Why, what's the matter with you?" said Crotchet, as he dealt the man a

blow on the back that nearly took all his breath away. "You look as

scared as if you had just seen a ghost, old fellow, that you do."

"It was worse than a ghost."

Sir Richard Blunt stepped up to the man, and said--

"Do you know me? I am Sir Richard Blunt the magistrate."

"Oh, yes, sir, I know you."

"Answer me then, clearly and distinctly, for much may depend upon it.

Who was it opened the door of Todd's house for you, and strove, as I

hear, to drag you into it?"

"Sweeney Todd, sir."

"Are you quite sure? Do you know him well by sight?"

"Oh, yes, sir, I could swear it."

"And you thought it very natural that he should be there, and if anybody

there had so laid hold of you in the dark, you would, of course, at once

have naturally concluded that it must be Todd?"

"Oh, dear no, sir, I hadn't an idea that it could be him, sir; and if I

hadn't seen his face, that I know quite well, I couldn't possibly have

believed it to be him."

"That is enough. I will not trouble you any further. I am much obliged

to you for your information."

"You are very welcome, Sir Richard; and I do hope you may catch the

rascal soon. I shall never forget his having hold of me, for the longest

day I have to live."

Still shaking at the bare remembrance of the danger that he had run, the

man left the church; and peeping over his shoulder every now and then as

he went, for fear Todd should be close at hand, he took his route to

quite a different quarter of the town, where he fancied he should feel

more secure; for he could not make up his mind to anything but that Todd

must have some special desire to lay hold of him, and add him to the

already formidable muster-roll of his victims.

When he left the church, Sir Richard Blunt turned to Crotchet, and

said--

"Crotchet, you may depend, now, that Todd is in London, and fancies that

among its crowds will be his greatest chance of safety. I will take

measures at once to discover him. Come along with me to Craven-street,

and you too, Green, and I will explain to you both what I think will be

the best plan to adopt."

"All's right, sir; we'll have him," said Crotchet.

"I think we shall," said Green, "for, large as London is, I rather think

we know how to search it as well as most folks. I attend you, sir, and I

will run any risk in the world to take the scoundrel prisoner."

"And so will I," said Crotchet.

"I know you both well," said Sir Richard, "and I cannot desire to be

aided by better men than you both are. Come on. I will not speak further

of any plans or projects except in my own office, where I know that

there are no spies or eaves-droppers."

"This blessed church is pretty safe," said Crotchet. "It ain't very

likely that anybody is on the listening lay in it. It would be rather

cold work, I take it. But, howsomdever, there's nothing like being on

the right side of the hedge, and in one's own crib, that one knows all

the ins and all the outs of, after all."

They both followed Sir Richard Blunt from the church, and Todd felt that

he was once again alone within that sacred edifice, the very atmosphere

of which was profaned by the presence of such a wretch, so loaded with

crimes as he was.

"Gone," said Todd, looking up put of the pulpit, "and may all--"

We cannot repeat the maledictions of Todd. They were additionally awful

spoken in such a building, and from such a place in that building. It

was dreadful that the roof of a place reared to the worship of God,

should be desecrated by the raving curses of such a man as Todd.

He was silent after he had satisfied his first ebullition of rage, and

then he was afraid that he had gone too far, and endangered his safety

by making an appearance at all above the level of the pulpit, or by

speaking. How did he know but that Sir Richard Blunt might, after all,

have some sort of suspicion that he was not far off, and be listening

close at hand?

As this supposition, wild and vague as it was, and quite unsupported by

any evidence, found a home in the brain of Todd, the perspiration of

intense fear broke out upon his brow, and again he shook to the extent

of making the old pulpit creak dreadfully.

"Oh, hush! hush!" he moaned. "Be still--be still. I am safe yet. There

is no one here. I am safe, surely. There is no one in the church. Why do

I suffer more, much more, from what does not happen, than from what

does?"

Still the notion clung to him for a little while, and he remained at the

bottom of the pulpit quite needlessly for the next half hour, listening

with all his might, in order to detect the slightest noise that might be

indicative of the presence of a foe. But all was as still as the grave,

and by slow degrees Sweeney Todd got more assured.

"I breathe again," he said. "They do not suspect that I am here. It is

much too unlikely a place for them to dream of for a moment. Even Sir

Richard Blunt, with his utmost prescience, does not think of looking for

me in the pulpit of St. Dunstan's Church. I am safe--I am safe for the

present."

He agreed with this feeling that he was quite alone in the church, and

he was right. He looked over the edge of the pulpit. How still and

solemn the place looked!

The morning had advanced quite sufficiently now to shed a dim light into

the church, and the noise in the street contingent upon the fire had

nearly passed away. The fact was, that the firemen had, after making a

few efforts and finding them of no use, let Todd's house burn to the

ground, and turned all their efforts towards saving the edifices on

either side. In that object they were successful, so that the

conflagration was over, and nothing remained but the frail wall of

Todd's house.

And so the clank of the engine-pumps no longer sounded in his ears, but

he could yet be certain that there was a great crowd in Fleet Street,

for he heard the hum of voices, and occasionally the trouble that ensued

when a vehicle tried to force its way through the dense mass of people

that blocked up the thoroughfare, which at the best of times was none of

the clearest.

"Is there a chance now of escape," said Todd, "if I could only make up

my mind to it? I do not forget that I am disguised--I ought not to

forget that. Who will know me? and yet that man knew me--that man that I

missed killing at the old place. Yes, he knew me. He said he could swear

to me. Confound him! I wish I could have sworn to his dead body. I

wonder if they have left the church-door open, or, rather, only upon the

latch? I--I will descend from here, and make a bold attempt."

He opened the pulpit-door, and had got about three steps down the little

ornamental flight of winding stairs that led from the pulpit to the body

of the building, when the church-door was suddenly opened, and he fled

back with a precipitation that made some noise, when he might have done

so in perfect quietness, for it was not very likely that any one would

have looked up to the pulpit immediately upon their entrance to the

building.

A glance towards the door convinced Mr. Todd that it was the beadle.

"Oh, dear, I thought I heard something," said the beadle, as he closed

the door after him. "But I suppose it was only fancy, after all. Now

they say that all the fire is out, and that it is quite impossible for

the church to be blowed up, I suppose I may come in without any danger.

Lor bless us, that Sir Richard Blunt, I do believe, would think no more

of blowing up a beadle, than he would of eating a penny bun, that's my

opinion of him."

"Curses on your head!" muttered Todd.

"Bless me, what a world we live in," said the beadle.

"Wretch--beast," muttered Todd; "what does he want here at this time of

day?"

"Yes, to-morrow's Sunday," said the beadle, as if pursuing a train of

thought that had found a home in his brain. "How the weeks do run round,

to be sure, and one Sunday comes after another at such a rate, that it

seems as if there was weeks and weeks and weeks of 'em, without any of

the other days at all. I wish I hadn't to come here."

Todd uttered faintly some dreadful imprecations, and the beadle

continued talking to himself to keep his courage up, as was evident from

his nervous and fidgetty manner.

"Ah, dear, me. Conwulsions! I tried to persuade my wife to come and dust

the communion table and the pulpit-cushions for to-morrow, but she

politely declined; she needn't have thrown the bellows at my head

though, for all that."

"Dust the pulpit-cushions!" thought Todd. "The wretch is coming up here!

I shall have to cut his throat, and leave him at the bottom of the

pulpit for the parson to tread upon the first thing he does to-morrow,

upon coming up here to preach."

As Todd spoke, he took a clasped knife out of his pocket, and opened it

with his teeth. "Oh, yes, my old friend, I shall, I see, be under the

painful necessity of cutting your throat, that I shall, and I shall not

hesitate about it at all."

"Yes," added the beadle, "I mean to say that to throw the bellows at the

man is like adding insult to injury, for it is blowing him up in a kind

of way that's anything but agreeable. Lor! how cold and rum the church

does feel. Rum? why did I say rum and put myself in mind of it? Oh,

don't I like it, rather! If I only now had a glass of real fine old

Jamaica rum at this moment, I'd be as happy as a bishop."

"Oh, I'll rum you!" growled Todd.

"Eh? Eh?"

The beadle turned round three times, as though he were going to begin a

game at blind-man's-bluff, and then he said--

"I thought I heard something. Oh dear, how shivery I do get to be sure,

when I'm alone in the church. I'll just get through the dusting job as

quick as I can, and no mistake. Amen! Amen! I'm a miserable

sinner--Amen!"