CHAPTER XVIII.

THE MISADVENTURE OF TOBIAS.--THE MAD-HOUSE ON PECKHAM-RYE.

Sweeney Todd paused for a moment at the cupboard door, before he made up

his mind as to whether he should pounce upon poor Tobias at once, or

adopt a more creeping, cautious mode of operation. The latter course was

by far the most congenial to his mind, and so he adopted it in a moment

or so, and stole quietly from his place of concealment, and with so

little noise, that Tobias could not have the least suspicion that any

one was in the room but himself. Treading, as if each step might involve

some serious consequences, he thus at length got completely behind the

chair on which Tobias was sitting, and stood with folded arms, and such

a hideous smile upon his face, that they together formed no inapt

representation of the Mephistopheles of the German drama.

"I shall at length," murmured Tobias, "be free from my present dreadful

state of mind, by thus accusing Todd. He is a murderer--of that I have

no doubt: it is but a duty of mine to stand forward as his accuser."

Sweeney Todd stretched out his two brawny hands, and clutched Tobias by

the head, which he turned round till the boy could see him, and then he

said--

"Indeed, Tobias; and did it never strike you that Todd was not so easily

to be overcome as you would wish him, eh, Tobias?"

The shock of this astonishing and sudden appearance of Sweeney Todd was

so great, that for a few moments Tobias was deprived of all power of

speech or action, and with his head so strangely twisted as to seem to

threaten the destruction of his neck. He glared in the triumphant and

malignant countenance of his persecutor, as he would into that of the

arch enemy of all mankind, which probably he now began to think the

barber really was. If one thing more than another was calculated to

delight such a man as Todd, it certainly was to perceive what a dreadful

effect his presence had upon Tobias, who remained for about a minute and

a half in this state before he ventured upon uttering a shriek, which,

however, when it did come, almost frightened Todd himself. It was one of

those cries which can only come from a heart in its utmost agony--a cry

which might have heralded the spirit to another world, and proclaimed,

as it very nearly did the destruction of the intellect for ever. The

barber staggered back a pace or two as he heard it, for it was too

terrific even for him, but it was for a very brief period that it had

that stunning effect upon him, and then, with a full consciousness of

the danger to which it subjected him, he sprang upon poor Tobias as a

tiger might be supposed to do upon a lamb, and clutched him by the

throat, exclaiming--

"Such another cry, and it is the last you ever live to utter, although

it cover me with difficulties to escape the charge of killing you.

Peace! I say, peace!"

This exhortation was quite needless, for Tobias could not have uttered a

word, had he been ever so much inclined to do so; the barber held his

throat with such an iron clutch, as if it had been in a vise.

"Villain," growled Todd, "villain; so this is the way in which you have

dared to disregard my injunctions. But no matter, no matter!--you shall

have plenty of leisure to reflect upon what you have done for yourself.

Fool! to think that you could cope with me--Sweeney Todd! Ha! ha!"

He burst into a laugh, so much more hideous, than his ordinary efforts

in that way, that, had Tobias heard it--which he did not, for his head

had dropped upon his breast, and he had become insensible--it would have

terrified him almost as much as Sweeney Todd's sudden appearance had

done.

"So," muttered the barber, "he has fainted, has he? Dull child, that is

all the better. For once in a way, Tobias, I will carry you--not to

oblige you, but to oblige myself. By all that's damnable, it was a

lively thought that brought me here to-night, or else I might, by the

dawn of the morning, have had some very troublesome inquiries made of

me."

He took Tobias up as easily as if he had been an infant, and strode from

the chambers with him, leaving Mrs. Ragg to draw whatever inference she

chose from his absence; but feeling convinced that she was too much

under his controul, to take any steps of a nature to give him the

smallest amount of uneasiness.

"The woman," he muttered to himself, "is a double-distilled ass, and can

be made to believe anything, so that I have no fear whatever of her. I

dare not kill Tobias, because it is necessary, in case of the matter

being at any other period mentioned, that his mother shall be in a

position to swear that she saw him after this night alive and well."

The barber strode through the Temple, carrying the boy, who seemed not

at all in a hurry to recover from the nervous and partial state of

suffocation into which he had fallen. As they passed through the gate

opening into Fleet-street, the porter, who knew the barber well by

sight, said--

"Hilloa, Mr. Todd, is that you? Why, who are you carrying?"

"Yes, it's I," said Todd, "and I am carrying my apprentice boy, Tobias

Ragg, poor fellow."

"Poor fellow!--why, what's the matter with him?"

"I can hardly tell you, but he seems to me and to his mother to have

gone out of his senses. Good night to you, good night. I'm looking for a

coach."

"Good night, Mr. Todd; I don't think you'll get one nearer than the

market--what a kind thing now of him to carry the boy! It ain't every

master would do that; but we must not judge of people by their looks,

and even Sweeney Todd, though he has a face that one would not like to

meet in a lonely place on a dark night, may be a kind-hearted man."

Sweeney Todd walked rapidly down Fleet-street, towards old Fleet Market,

which was then in all its glory, if that could be called glory which

consisted in all sorts of filth, enough to produce a pestilence within

the city of London. When there, he addressed a large bundle of great

coats, in the middle of which was supposed to be a hackney coachman of

the regular old school, and who was lounging over his vehicle, which was

as long and lumbering as a city barge.

"Jarvey," he said, "what will you take me to Peckham Rye for?"

"Peckham Rye--you and the boy--there ain't any more of you waiting round

the corner, are there--'cos, you know, that won't be fair?"

"No, no, no."

"Well, don't be in a passion, master. I only asked, you know, so you

need not be put out about it; I will take you for twelve shillings, and

that's what I call remarkably cheap, all things considered."

"I'll give half the amount," said Sweeney Todd, "and you may consider

yourself well paid."

"Half, master?--that is cutting it low; but, howsomdever, I suppose I

must put up with it, and take you. Get in, I must try and make it up by

some better fare out of somebody else."

The barber paid no heed to these renewed remonstrances of the coachman,

but got into the vehicle, carrying Tobias with him, apparently with

great care and consideration; but when the coach door closed, and no one

was observing him, he flung him down among the straw that was at the

bottom of the vehicle, and resting his immense feet upon him, he gave

one of his disagreeable laughs, as he said--

"Well, I think I have you now, Master Tobias; your troubles will soon be

over. I am really very much afraid that you will die suddenly, and then

there will be an end of you altogether, which will be a very sad thing,

though I don't think I shall go into mourning, because I have an opinion

that that only keeps alive the bitterness of regret, and that it's a

great deal better done without, Master Tobias."

The hackney coach swung about from side to side, in the proper approved

manner of hackney coaches in the olden time, when they used to be called

"bone setters," and to be thought wonderful if they made a progress of

three miles and a half an hour. This was the sort of vehicle, then, in

which poor Tobias, still perfectly insensible, was rumbled over

Blackfriars-bridge, and so on towards Peckham, which Sweeney Todd had

announced to be his place of destination. Going at the rate they did, it

was nearly two hours before they arrived upon Peckham Rye; and any one

acquainted with that locality is well aware that there are two roads,

the one to the left, and the other to the right, both of which are

pleasantly enough studded with villa residences. Sweeney Todd directed

the coachman to take the road to the left, which he accordingly did, and

they pursued it for a distance of about a mile and a half. It must not

be supposed that this pleasant district of country was then in the state

it is now, as regards inhabitants or cultivation. On the contrary, it

was rather a wild spot, on which now and then a serious robbery had been

committed; and which had witnessed some of the exploits of those

highwaymen, whose adventures, in the present day, if one may judge from

the public patronage they may receive, are viewed with such a great

amount of interest. There was a lonely, large, rambling, old-looking

house by the way side, on the left. A high wall surrounded it, which

only allowed the topmost portion of it to be visible, and that presented

great symptoms of decay, in the dilapidated character of the

chimney-pot, and the general appearance of discomfort which pervaded it.

There Sweeney Todd directed the coachman to stop, and when the vehicle,

after swinging to and fro for several minutes, did indeed at last

resolve itself into a state of repose, Sweeney Todd got out himself, and

rang a bell, the handle of which hung invitingly at the gate. He had to

wait several minutes before an answer was given to this summons, but at

length a noise proceeded from within, as if several bars and bolts were

being withdrawn; and presently the door was opened, and a huge,

rough-looking man made his appearance on the threshold.

[Illustration: The Barber Carries Off Tobias To A Private Mad-House.]

"Well! what is it now?" he cried.

"I have a patient for Mr. Fogg," said Sweeney Todd. "I want to see him

immediately."

"Oh! well, the more the merrier: it don't matter to me a bit. Have you

got him with you--and is he tolerably quiet?"

"It's a mere boy, and he is not violently mad, but very decidedly so as

regards what he says."

"Oh! that's it, is it? He can say what he likes here, it can make no

difference in the world to us. Bring him in--Mr. Fogg is in his own

room."

"I know the way: you take charge of the lad, and I will go and speak to

Mr. Fogg about him. But stay, give the coachman these six shillings, and

discharge him."

The doorkeeper of the lunatic asylum, for such it was, went out to obey

the injunctions of Sweeney Todd, while that rascally individual himself

walked along a wide passage to a door which was at the further extremity

of it.