CHAPTER LXX.

RETURNS TO JOHANNA.

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.