 Chapter 1 of The String of Pearls. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eugene Smith. The String of Pearls. Chapter 1. The Strange Customer at Sweeney Todd's. Before Fleet Street had reached its present importance, and when George III was young, and the two figures who used to strike the chimes at Old St. Dunstan's Church were in all their glory, being a great impediment to errand boys on their progress, and a matter of gaping curiosity to country people, there stood close to the sacred edifice a small barber shop, which was kept by a man of the name of Sweeney Todd. How it was that he came by the name of Sweeney, as a Christian appellation, we're at a loss to conceive, but such was his name, as might be seen in extremely corpulent yellow letters over his shop window by anyone who chose there to look for it. Barbers by that time in Fleet Street had not become fashionable, and no more dreamt of calling themselves artists than of taking the tower by storm. Moreover, they were not, as they are now, constantly slaughtering fine fat bears. And yet somehow people had hair on their heads, just the same as they have at present, without the aid of that unctuous auxiliary. Moreover, Sweeney Todd, in common with his brethren in those really primitive sorts of times, did not think it at all necessary to have any wax and effigies of humanity in his window. There was no languishing young lady looking over the left shoulder in order that a profusion of Auburn tresses might repose upon her lily neck. And great conquerors and great statement were not then, as they are now, held up to public ridicule with dabs of rouge upon their cheeks, a quantity of gunpowder scattered in for a beard, and some bristles sticking on in for eyebrows. But no, Sweeney Todd was a barber of the old school, and he never thought of glorifying himself on account of any extraneous circumstance. If he had lived in Henry VIII's palace, it would have been all the same to him as Henry VIII's dog kennel, and he would scarcely have believed human nature to be so green as to pay an extra sixpence to be shaven and shorn in any particular locality. A long pole painted white with a red stripe curling spirally around it, projected into the street from his doorway, and on one of the panes of glass in his window was presented the following couplet, easy shaving for a penny, as good as you will find any. We do not put these lines forth as a specimen of the poetry of the age. It may have been the production of some young Templar, but if they were a little wanting in poetic fire, that was amply made up by the clear and precise manner in which they set forth what they intended. The barber himself was a long, low-jointed, ill-put-together sort of fellow, with an immense mouth and such huge hands and feet that he was, in his way, quite a natural curiosity. While it was more wonderful, considering his trade, there never was seen such a head of hair as Sweeney Todd's. We know not what to compare it to. Probably it came nearest to what one might suppose to be the appearance of a thick-set hedge, in which a quantity of small wire had got entangled. In truth, it was a most terrific head of hair, and as Sweeney Todd kept all his combs in it, some said his scissors likewise, when he put his head out of the shop door to see what sort of weather it was, he might have been mistaken for some Indian warrior with a very remarkable headdress. He had a short, disagreeable kind of unmerthful laugh, which came in at all sorts of odd times when nobody else saw anything to laugh at at all, and which sometimes made people start again, especially when they were being shaved, and Sweeney Todd would stop short in that operation to indulge in one of those cacodatory effusions. It was evident that the remembrance of some very strange and out-of-the-way joke must occasionally flit across him, and then he gave his hyena-like laugh, but it was so short, so sudden, striking upon the ear for a moment and then gone, that people have been known to look up to the ceiling and on the floor and all around them to know from whence it had come, scarcely supposing it possible that it proceeded from mortal lips. Mr. Todd squinted a little to add to his charms, and so we think that by this time the reader may in his mind's eye see the individual whom we wish to present to him. Some thought him a careless enough harmless fellow with not much sense in him, and at times they almost considered he was a little cracked. But there were others again who shook their heads when they spoke of him, and while they could say nothing to his prejudice, except that they certainly considered he was odd, yet when they came to consider what a great crime and misdemeanor it really is in this world to be odd, we shall not be surprised at the ill odor in which Sweeney Todd was held. But for all that he did a most thriving business and was considered by his neighbors to be a very well-to-do sort of man, and decidedly, in city phraseology, warm. It was so handy for the young students in the temple to pop over to Sweeney Todd's to get their chins new rasped so that from morning to night he drove a good business and was evidently a thriving man. There was only one thing that seemed in any way to detract from the great prudence of Sweeney Todd's character, and that was that he rented a large house of which he occupied nothing but the shop and parlor, leaving the upper part entirely useless, and obstinately refusing to let it on any terms whatever. Such was the state of things, AD 1785, as regarded Sweeney Todd. The day is drawing to a close, and a small drizzling kind of rain is falling so that there are not many passengers in the streets, and Sweeney Todd is sitting in his shop looking keenly in the face of a boy who stands in an attitude of trembling subjection before him. You will remember, said Sweeney Todd, and he gave his countenance a most horrible twist as he spoke. You will remember, Tobias Rag, that you are now my apprentice, that you have of me had bored washing and lodging, with the exception that you don't sleep here, that you take your meals at home, and that your mother, Mrs. Rag, does your washing, which she may very well do, being a laundress in the devil and making no end of money. As for lodging, you lodge here, you know, very comfortably in the shop all day. Now, are you not a happy dog? Yes, sir, said the boy timidly. You will acquire a first-rate profession, and quite as good is the law, which your mother tells me she would have put you to, only that a little weakness of the headpiece unqualified you. And now, Tobias, listen to me and treasure up every word I say. Yes, sir. I'll cut your throat from ear to ear, if you repeat one word of what passes in this shop, or dare to make any supposition or draw any conclusion from anything you may see or hear, or fancy you see or hear. Now you understand me. I'll cut your throat from ear to ear. Do you understand me? Yes, sir. I won't say nothing. I wish, sir, as I may be made into veal pies at Lubbets in Bell Yard, if I as much as says a word. Sweeney Todd rose from his seat and, opening his huge mouth, he looked at the boy for a minute or two in silence, as if he fully intended swallowing him, but had not quite made up his mind where to begin. Very good. He said in length. I'm satisfied. I'm quite satisfied. And mark me, the shop and the shop only is your place. Yes, sir. And if any customer gives you a penny, you can keep it, so that if you get enough of them, you will become a rich man. Only I will take care of them for you, and when I think you want them, I will let you have them. Run out and see what's o'clock by St. Dunstan's. There was a small crowd collected opposite the church, for the figures were about to strike three-quarters past six. And among that crowd was one man who gazed with as much curiosity as anybody at the exhibition. Now for it, he said, they're going to begin. Well, that is ingenious. Look at the fellow lifting up his club, and down it comes bang upon the old bell. Three-quarters were struck by the figures, and then the people who had loitered to see it done, many of whom had day by day looked at the same exhibition for years past, walked away, with the exception of the man who seemed so deeply interested. He remained, and crouching at his feet was a noble looking dog, who looked likewise up at the figures, and who, observing his master's attention to be closely fixed upon them, endeavored to show as great an appearance of interest as he possibly could. What do you think of that, Hector? said the man. The dog gave a short, low wine, and then his master proceeded. There's a barber's shop opposite, so before I go any further, as I've got to see the ladies, although it's on a very melancholy errand, for I've got to tell them that poor Mark Ingestery is no more, and heaven knows what poor Johanna will say. I think I should know her by her description of her, poor fellow. It grieves me to think how he used to talk about her in the long night watches, when all was still, and not a breath of air touched a curl upon his cheek. I could almost think I saw her sometimes, as he used to tell me of her soft beaming eyes, her little gentle, pouting lips, and the dimples that played about her mouth. Well, well, it's of no use grieving. He's dead and gone, poor fellow, and the salt water washes over his brave heart as ever beat. His sweet heart, Johanna, though, shall have the string of pearls for all that. And if she cannot be Mark Ingestery's wife in this world, she shall be rich and happy, poor young thing, while she stays in it. That is to say, as happy as she can be. And she must just look forward to meeting him aloft, where there are no squalls or tempests. And so I'll go and get shaved at once. He crossed the road toward Sweeney Todd's shop, and stepping down the low doorway, he stood face to face with the odd-looking barber. The dog gave a low growl and sniffed the air. Why Hector, said his master, what's the matter? Down, sir, down. I have a mortal fear of dogs, said Sweeney Todd. Would you mind him, sir, sitting outside the door and waiting for you if it's all the same? Only look at him. He's going to fly at me. Then you are the first person he ever touched without provocation, said the man. I suppose you don't like your looks, and I must confess I ain't much surprised at that. I've seen a few rum-licking guys in my time, but hang me if I ever saw such a figurehead as yours. What the devil noise was that? It was only me, said Sweeney Todd. I laughed. Laughed? You call that a laugh? I suppose you caught it of somebody who died of it. If that's the every way of laughing, I beg you won't do it anymore. Stop the dog! Stop the dog! I can't have dogs running into my back, Parler! Here, Hector, here, cried the master, get out! Most unwillingly, the dog left the shop and crouched down close to the outer door, which the barber took care to close, muttering something about a draft of air coming in. And then, turning to the apprentice boy, who was screwed up in the corner, he said, To bias my lad, go to Leadin' All Street, and bring a small bag of the thick biscuits from Mr. Peterson's. Say that from me. Now, sir, I suppose you want to be shaved, and it's well you have come here, for there ain't a shaving shop, although I say it, in the city of London, that ever thinks of polishing off anybody as I do. I tell you what it is, Master Barber. If you come that laugh again, I will get up and go. I don't like it, and there's an end of it. Very good, said Sweeney Todd, as he mixed up a lather. Who are you? Where you come from, and where are you going? That's cool at all events. Damn it! What do you mean by putting a brush in my mouth? Now, don't laugh, and since you're so fond of asking questions, just answer me one. Oh, yes, of course. What is it, sir? Do you know of Mr. Oakley, who lives somewhere in London, and is a spectacle maker? Yes, to be sure I do. John Oakley, the spectacle maker in 4th Street, and he's got a daughter named Joel Hanna. What, that the young blood's called the Flower of 4th Street. Ah, poor thing. Do they? Now, Conn found you. What are you laughing at now? What do you mean by it? Didn't you say, ah, poor thing? Just turn your head a little on one side. That'll do. You've been to see, sir? Yes, I have, and have only now lately come up the river from an Indian village. Indeed. Where can my strop be? I had it this minute. I must have laid it down somewhere. What an odd thing that I can't see it. It's very extraordinary. What can have become of it? Ow! I recollect. I took it into the parlor. Sit still, sir. I shall not be gone a moment. Sit still, sir, if you please. By the by, you can amuse yourself with a courier, sir, for a moment. Sweeney Todd walked into the back parlor and closed the door. There was a strange sound suddenly compounded of a rushing noise and then a heavy blow. Immediately after which Sweeney Todd emerged from his parlor and folding his arms, he looked upon the vacant chair where his customer had been seated. But the customer was gone, leaving not the slightest trace of his presence behind except his hat. And that, Sweeney Todd immediately seized and thrust into a cupboard that was at one corner of the shop. What's that? He said, What's that? I thought I heard a noise. The door was slowly opened and Tobias made his appearance, saying, If you please, sir, I forgot the money and have run all the way back from St. Paul's churchyard. In two strides Todd reached him and clutching him by the arm, he dragged him into the farthest corner of the shop and then he stood opposite to him, glaring in his face with such a demoniac expression that the boy was frightfully terrified. Speak, God Todd, speak and speak the truth for your last hour has come. How long were you peeping through the door before you came in? Peeping, sir? Yes, peeping. Don't repeat my words but answer me at once. You will find it better for you in the end. I wasn't peeping, sir, at all. Sweeney Todd drew a long breath as he then said in a strange shrieking sort of manner which he intended no doubt should be Joe Coase. Well, well, very well. If you did peep, what then? It's no matter. I only wanted to know that's all. It was quite a joke, wasn't it? Quite funny. Though rather odd, eh? Why don't you laugh, you dog? Come now. There is no harm done. Tell me what you thought about it at once and we will be merry over it. Very merry. I don't know what you mean, sir, said the boy, who was quite as much alarmed at Mr. Todd's mirth as he was at his anger. I don't know what you mean, sir. I only just come back because I hadn't any money to pay for the biscuits at Peterson's. I mean nothing at all, said Todd, suddenly turning upon his heel. What's that scratching at the door? Tobias opened the shop door and there stood the dog, who looked wistfully around the place, and then gave a howl that seriously alarmed the barber. It's the gentleman's dog, sir, said Tobias. It's the gentleman's dog, sir, that was looking at old St. Dunstan's clock and came in here to be shaved. It's funny, ain't it, sir, that the dog didn't go away with his master? Why don't you laugh if it's funny? Turn out the dog, Tobias. We'll have no dogs here. I hate the sight of them. Turn him out! Turn him out! I would, sir, in a minute, but I'm afraid he wouldn't let me, somehow. Only look, sir. Look. See what he's at now. Did you ever see such a violent fellow, sir? Why, he will have down the cupboard door. Stop him! Stop him! The devil's in the animal! Stop him, I say! The dog was certainly getting the door open when Sweeney Todd rushed forward to stop him, but that he was soon admonished of the danger of doing, for the dog gave him a grip of the leg, which made him give such a howl that he precipitantly retreated, left the animal to do its pleasure. This consisted in forcing open the cupboard door and seizing upon the hat which Sweeney Todd had thrust therein and dashing out of the shop with it in triumph. The devil's in the beast, muttered Todd. He's off. Tobias, you said you saw the man who owned that fiend of a car looking at St. Dunstan's church. Yes, sir. I did see him there. If you recollect, you sent me to see the time, and the figures were just going to strike three-quarters past six? And before I came away, I heard him say that Mark and Jesterie was dead, and Joanna should have a string of pearls. Then I came in. And then, if you recollect, sir, he came in. And the odd thing, you know, to me, sir, is that he didn't take his dog with him, because, you know, sir? Because what? shouted Todd. Because people generally do take their dogs with them, you know, sir. And may I be made into one of Lovett's pies if I don't? Hush! Someone comes. It's old Mr. Grant from the temple. How do you do, Mr. Grant? Glad to see you looking so well, sir. It does one's heart good to see a gentleman of your years looking so fresh and hearty. Sit down, sir. A little this way, if you please. Shade, I suppose? Yes, Todd. Yes. Any news? No, sir. Nothing's stirring. Everything very quiet, sir, except the high wind. They say it blew the king's hat off yesterday, sir, and he borrowed Lord North's. Trade is dull, too, sir. I suppose people won't come out to be cleaned and dressed in the mizzling rain. We haven't had anybody in the shop for an hour and a half. Lord, sir, said Tobias, you forgot the seafaring gentleman with the dog, you know, sir? Ah, so I do, said Todd. He went away, and I saw him get into some disturbance, I think, just at the corner of the market. I wonder, I didn't meet him, sir, said Tobias, for I came that way, and then it's so very odd leaving his dog behind him. Yes, very, said Todd. Will you excuse me a moment, Mr. Grant? Tobias, my lad, I just want you to lend me a hand in the parlor. Tobias followed Todd very unsuspectingly into the parlor, but when they got there and the door was closed, the barber sprang upon him like an enraged tiger, and grappling him by the throat, he gave his head such a succession of knocks against the wainscote that Mr. Grant must have thought that some carpenter was at work. Then he tore a handful of his hair out, after which he twisted him round and dealt him such a kick that he was flung sprawling into a corner of the room, and then, without a word, the barber walked out again to his customer, and he bolted his parlor door on the outside, leaving Tobias to digest the usage he had received at his leisure, and in the best way he could. When he came back to Mr. Grant, he apologized for keeping him waiting by saying, It became necessary, sir, to teach my new apprentice a little bit of his business. I have left him studying it now. There's nothing like teaching young folks at once. Ah, said Mr. Grant, with a sigh. I know what it is to let young folks grow wild. For although I have had neither chick nor child of my own, I had a sister's son to look to. I had some wild harem scarum sort of fellow, as like me as one pea is like another. I tried to make a lawyer of him, but it wouldn't do, and it's now more than two years ago he left me altogether. And yet there were some good traits about Mark. Mark, sir? Did you say Mark? Yes, that was his name, Mark Ingestory. God knows what's become of him. Oh, said Sweeney Todd, and he went on lathering the chin of Mr. Grant. End of chapter one, chapter two of The String of Pearls. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eugene Smith. Chapter two, The Spectacle Maker's Daughter. Johanna, Johanna, my dear, do you know what time it is? Johanna, I say, my dear, are you going to get up? Here's your mother has trotted out to parse and lupins, and you know I have to go to Alderman Judd's house and cripplegate the first thing. And I haven't had a morsel of breakfast yet. Johanna, my dear, do you hear me? These observations were made by Mr. Oakley, the Spectacle Maker, at the door of his daughter Johanna's chamber, while the morning after the events we have just recorded at Sweeney Todd's. And presently a soft, sweet voice answered him, saying, I'm coming, Father, I'm coming. In a moment, Father, I shall be down. Don't hurry yourself, my darling. I can wait. The old Spectacle Maker descended the staircase again and sat down in the parlor at the back of the shop, where, in a few moments, he was joined by Johanna, his only and his much-loved child. She was indeed a creature of the rarest grace and beauty. Her age was 18, but she looked rather younger, and upon her face, she had the sweetness and intelligence of expression which almost bids defiance to the march of time. Her hair was of a glossy blackness, and what was rare in conjunction with such a feature, her eyes were of a deep and heavenly blue. There was nothing of the commanding or of the severe style of beauty about her, but the expression of her face was all grace and sweetness. It was one of those countenances which one could look at for a long summer's day, as upon the pages of some deeply interesting volume which furnished the most abundant food for a pleasant and delightful reflection. There was a touch of sadness about her voice, which, perhaps, only tended to make it the more musical, although mournfully so, and which seems to indicate that at the bottom of her heart there lay some grief which she had not yet spoken. Some cherished aspiration of her pure soul which looked hopeless as regards completion. Some remembrance of a former joy which had been turned to bitterness and grief. It was the cloud in the sunny sky, the shadow through which there still gleamed bright and beautiful sunshine, but which still proclaimed its presence. I've kept you waiting, Father," she said as she flung her arms about the old man's neck. I've kept you waiting. Never mind, my dear, never mind. Your mother is so taken up with Mr. Lupin that, you know, this being Wednesday morning, she is off to his prayer meeting, and so I've had no breakfast. And really, I think I must discharge Sam. Indeed, Father, what has he done? Nothing at all, and that's the very reason. I had to take down the shutters myself this morning. And what do you think for? He had the coolness to tell me that he couldn't take down the shutter this morning or sweep out the shop because his aunt had the toothache. A poor excuse, Father, said Johanna, as she bustled about and got the breakfast ready. A very poor excuse. Poor indeed. But his month is up today, and I must get rid of him. But I suppose I shall have no end of bother with your mother because his aunt belongs to Mr. Lupin's congregation, but assures this is the 20th day of August. It is the 20th day of August, said Johanna, as she sank into a chair and burst into tears. It is. It is. I thought I could have controlled this. But I cannot, Father. I cannot. It was that which made me late. I knew Mother was out. I knew that I ought to be down and attending upon you. And I was praying to heaven for strength to do so because this was the 20th of August. Johanna spoke these words incoherently and amidst sobs. And when she had finished them, she leaped her sweet face upon her small hands and wept like a child. The astonishment, not unmingled with positive dismay of the old spectacle maker, was vividly depicted on his countenance, and for some minutes he sat perfectly aghast, with his hands resting on his knees and looking in the face of his beautiful child. That is to say, as much as he could see of it between those little taper fingers that were spread upon it, as if he were newly awakened from some dream. Good God, Johanna, he said it late. What is this? My dear child, what has happened? Tell me, my dear, unless you wish to kill me with grief. You shall know, Father, she said. I did not think to say a word about it, but considered I had strength enough of mine to keep my sorrows in my own breast. But the effort has been too much for me and I have been compelled to yield. If you had not looked so kindly on me, if I did not know that you loved me as you do, I should easily have kept my secret. But knowing that much, I cannot. My darling, said the old man, you are right there. I do love you. What would the world be to me now without you? There was a time twenty years ago when your mother made up much of my happiness. But of late, what with Mr. Lupin and Psalm singing and tea drinking, I see very little of her and what little I do see is not very satisfactory. Tell me, my darling, what is it that vexes you and I'll soon put it to rights? I don't belong to the city train bands for nothing. Father, I know that your affection would do all for me that it is possible to do, but you cannot recall the dead to life and if this day passes over and I see him not or hear not from him, I know that instead of finding a home for me who we love, he has in the effort to do so found a grave for himself. He said he would, he said he would. Here she wrung her hands and wept again and with such a bitterness of anguish that the old spectacle maker was at his wit's end and knew not what on earth to do or say. My dear, my dear, he cried. Who is he? I hope you don't mean. Hush, hush, Father, hush. I know the name that is hovering on your lips, but it's something seems even now to whisper to me he is no more. And being so speak nothing of him, Father, but that which is good. You mean Mark in gestury? I do. And if he had a thousand faults, he at least loved me. He loved me truly and most sincerely. My dear, said the old spectacle maker, you know that I wouldn't for all the world say anything to vex you nor will I, but tell me what it is that makes this day more than any other so gloomy to you. I will, Father, you shall hear. It was on this day two years ago that we last met. It was in the temple gardens and he had just had a stormy interview with his uncle, Mr. Grant. And you will understand, Father, that Mark in gestury was not to blame because, well, well, my dear, you needn't say anything more upon that point. Girls very seldom admit their lovers are to blame, but there are two ways you know, Johanna, of telling a story. Yes, but, Father, why should Mr. Grant seek to force him to the study of a profession he dislike? My dear, one would have thought that if Mark in gestury really loved you and found that he might make you his wife and acquire an honorable subsistence both for you and himself, it seems a very wonderful thing to me that he did not do so. You see, my dear, he should have liked you well enough to do something else that he did not like. Yes, but, Father, you know it is hard when disagreements once arise for a young ardent spirit to give in entirely. And so from one word, poor Mark, in his disputes with his uncle, got to another when perhaps one touch of kindness or conciliation for Mr. Grant would have made him quite pliant in his hand. Yes, that's the way, said Mr. Uncley. There's no end to excuses. But go on, my dear, go on and tell me exactly how this affair now stands. I will, Father. It was this day two years ago then that we met, and he told me that he and his uncle had at last quarreled irreconcilably and that nothing could possibly now patch up the difference between them. We had a long talk. Ah, no doubt of that. And at length he told me that he must go and seek his fortune, that fortune which he hoped to share with me. He said that he had an opportunity of undertaking a voyage to India and that if he were successful he would have sufficient to return with and commence some pursuit in London, more congenial to his thoughts and habits than the law. Ah, well, what next? He told me that he loved me. And you believed him? Father, you would have believed him had you heard him speak. His tones were those of such deep sincerity that no actor who ever charmed an audience with an unreal existence could have reached them. There are times and seasons when we know that we are listening to the majestic voice of truth, and there are tones which sink at once into the heart, carrying with them a conviction of their sincerity which in either time or circumstance can alter. And such were the tones in which Mark and Jesterie spoke to me. And so you suppose, Johanna, that it is easy for a young man who has not patience or energy enough to be respectable at home to go abroad and make his fortune? Is idleness so much in request in other countries that it receives such a rich reward, my dear? You judge him harshly, Father. You do not know him. Heaven forbid that I should judge anyone harshly and I will freely admit that you may know more of his real character than I can, who, of course, have only seen its surface. But go on, my dear, and tell me all. We made an agreement, Father, that on that day, two years, he was to come to me and send me some news of his whereabouts. If I heard nothing of him, I was to conclude he was no more and I cannot help so concluding now. But the day has not yet passed. I know it is not, yet I rest upon but a slender hope, Father. Do you believe that dreams ever really shadow forthcoming events? I cannot say, my child, I am not disposed to yield credence to any supposed fact because I have dreamt it, but I confess to having heard some strange instances where these visions of the night have come strictly true. Heaven knows but this may be one of them. I had a dream last night. I thought I was sitting upon the seashore and that all before me was nothing but a fathomless waste of waters. I heard the roar and the dash of the waves distinctly and each moment the wind grew more furious and fierce and I saw in the distance a ship. It was battling with the waves, which at one moment lifted at mountains high and at another plunged it far down into such an abyss that not a vestige of it could be seen but the topmost spars of the tall masts. And still the storm increased each moment in its fury and ever a nod there came a strange, sullen sound across the waters and I saw a flash of fire and knew that those in the ill-fated vessel were thus endeavoring to attract attention in some friendly aid. Father, from the first to the last, I knew that Mark and Jesterie was there. My heart told me so. I was certain he was there and I was helpless, utterly helpless, utterly and entirely unable to lend the slightest aid. I could only gaze upon what was going forward as a silent and terrified specter of the scene and at last I heard a cry come over the deep, a strange loud wailing cry which proclaimed to me the fate of the vessel. I saw its masts shiver for a moment in the blackened air and then all was still for a few seconds until there arose a strange wild shriek that I knew was the despairing cry of those who sang never to rise again in that vessel. Oh, that was a frightful sound. It was a sound to linger on the ears and haunt the memory of sleep. It was a sound never to be forgotten when once heard but such as might again and again be remembered with horror and a fright. And all this was in your dream? It was, Father, it was. And you were helpless? I was, utterly and entirely helpless. It was very sad. It was, as you shall hear. The ship went down and that cry that I uttered was the last despairing one given by those who clung to the wreck with scarce a hope and yet because it was their only refuge or where else had they to look for the smallest way of consolation where else, save in the surging waters, were they to hunt for safety? No way. All was lost. All was despaired. I tried to scream. I tried to cry aloud to heaven to have mercy upon those brave and gallant souls who had trusted their dearest possession, life itself, to the mercy of the deep. I so tried to render so inefficient sucker I saw a small speck in the sea and my straining eyes perceived that it was a man floating and clinging to a piece of the wreck and I knew it was Mark and Jespery. But my dear, surely you're not annoyed at a dream. It saddened me. I stretched out my arms to save him. I heard him pronounce my name and call upon me for help. It was all in vain. He baffled with the waves as long as human nature could baffle with him. He could do no more. I saw him disappear before my anxious eyes. Don't say you saw him, my dear. Say you fancy you saw him. It was such a fancy as I shall not lose the remembrance of for many a day. Well, well, after all, my dear, it's only a dream. And it seems to me, without at all averting to anything that should give you pain as regards Mark and Jespery, that you made a very foolish bargain for only consider how many difficulties might arise in the way of his keeping faith with you. You know I have your happiness so much at heart that if Mark had been a worthy man and an industrious one, I should not have opposed myself to your union. But believe me, my dear Johanna, that a young man with great facilities for spending money and none whatever for earning any is just about the worst husband you could choose. And such a man was Mark and Jespery. But come, we will say nothing of this to your mother. Let the secret, if we may call it such, rest with me. And if you can inform me in what capacity and in what vessel he left England, I will not carry my prejudice so far against him as to hesitate about making what inquiry I can concerning his fate. I know nothing more, Father. We parted and never met again. Well, well, dry your eyes, Johanna. And as I go to Alderman Judds, I'll think over the matter, which, after all, may not be so bad as you think. The lad is a good enough looking lad and has, I believe, a good ability if he could put it to some useful purpose. But if he goes scampering about the world in an unsettled manner, you are well rid of him. And as for his being dead, you must not conclude that by any means. For somehow or another, like a bad penny, these fellows always come back. There was more consolation in the kindly tone of the spectacle maker than in the words he used. But upon the whole, Johanna was well enough pleased that she had communicated the secret to her father. For now, at all events, at someone to whom she could mention the name of Mark Ingestry without the necessity of concealing the sentiment with which she did so. And when her father had gone, she felt that by the mere relation of it to him, some of the terrors of her dream had vanished. She sat for some time in a pleasing reverie till she was interrupted by Sam, the shop boy, who came into the parlor and said, Please, Miss Johanna, suppose I was to go down to the docks and try to find out for you, Mr. Mark Ingestry. I say, suppose I was to do that. I heard it all. And if I do find him, I'll soon settle him. What do you mean? I means that I won't stand it. Didn't I tell you more than three weeks ago as you was the object of my infections? Didn't I tell you that when Aunt died, I should come in for the soap and candle business and make you my missus? The only reply which Johanna gave to this was to rise and leave the room, for her heart was too full of grief and sad speculation to enable her to do now as she had often been in the habit of doing, namely, laugh at Sam's protestations of affection. So he was left to chew the cud of sweet and bitter fancy by himself. A thousand dans, he said when he entered the shop. I always suspected there was some other fellow. Now I know what I'm ready to gnaw my head off that ever I can send it to come here. Con found him. I hope he's at the bottom of the sea and eat up by this time. Oh, I should like to smash everybody. If I had my way now, I'd just walk into society at large, as they call it, and let it know what one, two, three slap in the eye is and down it would go. Mr. Sam, in his rage, did upset a case of spectacles. Which went down with a tremendous crash and which, however good an imitation of the manner in which society at large was to be knocked down, was not likely to be at all pleasing to Mr. Oakley. I've done it now, he said, but never mind. I'll try the old dodge whenever I break anything. That is, I'll place it in old Oakley's way and swear he didn't. I never knew such an old goose. You may persuade him into anything. The idea now of his pulling down all the shutters this morning because I told him my aunt had the toothache. That was a go to be sure. But I'll be revenge to that fellow who has took away, I consider, Johanna from me. I'll let him know what a blighted heart is capable of. He won't live long enough to want a pair of spectacles. I'll be bound or else my name ain't Sam Bolt. End of chapter two. Chapter three of The String of Pearls. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eugene Smith. The String of Pearls. Chapter three, The Dog and the Hat. The earliest dawn of mourning was the listening upon the masts, the cordage and the sails of a fleet of vessels lying below sheerness. The crews were rousing themselves from their nights repose and to make their appearance on the decks of the vessels from which the night watch had just been relieved. A man of war, which had been the convoy of the fleet of merchant men through the charnel, fired a gun as the first glimpse of the morning sun fell upon her tapering masts. Then, from a battery in the neighborhood, came another booming report, and that was answered by another, farther off, and then another, until the whole chain of batteries that girded the coast, for it was a time of war, had proclaimed the dawn of another day. The effect was very fine in the stillness of the early morn of these successions of reports, and as they died away in the distance like mimic thunder, some order was given on board the man of war, and in a moment the masts and cordage seemed perfectly alive with human beings clinging to them in various directions. Then, as if by magic or as if the ship had been a living thing itself and had possessed wings, which at the mere instigation of a wish could be spread far and wide, there fluttered out such sheets of canvas as was wonderful to see, and as they caught the morning light and the ship moved from the slight breeze that sprang up from the shore, she looked indeed as if she walked the waters like a thing of life. The various crews of the merchant men stood upon the decks of their respective vessels, gazing after the ship of war as she proceeded on another mission similar to the one she had just performed in protecting the commerce of the country. As she passed one vessel, which had been, in point of fact, actually rescued from the enemy, the crew, who had been saved from a foreign prison, cheered lustily. There wanted but such an impulse as this, and then every merchant vessel that the man of war passed took up the gladsome shout, and the crew of the huge vessel were not slow in their answer for three deafening cheers, such as that frequently struck terror into the hearts of England's enemies, awakened many an echo from the shore. It was a proud and a delightful sight, such a sight as none but an Englishman can thoroughly enjoy to see that vessel so proudly stemming the waist of waters. We say none but an Englishman can enjoy it, because no other nation has ever attempted to achieve a great maritime existence without being most signally defeated and leaving us still as we ever shall be masters of the seas. These proceedings were amply sufficient to arouse the crews of all the vessels, and over the taff rail of one in particular, a large-sized merchant men, which had been trading in the Indian seas, two men were leaning. One of them was the captain of the vessel and the other a passenger who intended leaving that morning. They were engaged in earnest conversation, and the captain, as he shaded his eyes with his hand and looked along the surface of the river, said in reply to some observation from his companion, I'll order my boat the moment Lieutenant Thornhill comes on board. I call him Lieutenant, although I have no right to do so, because he has held that rank in the King's service, but when quite a young man was cashiered for fighting a duel with his superior officer. The service has lost a good officer, said the other. It has indeed. A braver man never stepped, nor a better officer. But you see they have certain rules in the service, and everything is sacrificed to maintain them. I can't think what keeps him. He went last night and said he would pull up to the temple stairs because he wanted to call upon somebody by the water side, and after that he was going to the city to transact some business of his own, and that would have brought him nearer there, you see. And there are plenty of things coming down the river. He's coming, cried the other. Don't be impatient, you will see him in a few minutes. What makes you think that? Because I see his dog there, don't you see, swimming in the water and coming direct towards the ship? I cannot imagine. I can see the dog, certainly, but I can't see Thornhill, nor is there any boat at hand. I know not what to make of it. Do you know my mind misgives me that something has happened amiss? The dog seems exhausted. lend a hand there to Mr. Thornhill's dog, some of you. Why, it's a hat he has in his mouth. The dog made towards the vessel, but without the assistance of the seamen, with the whole of whom he was an immense favorite, he certainly could not have boarded the vessel. And when he reached the deck, he sank down upon it in a state of complete exhaustion, with the hat still in his grasp. And as the animal lay panting upon the deck, the sailors looked at each other in amazement, there was but one opinion among them all now, and that was that something very serious had unquestionably happened to Mr. Thornhill. I dread, said the captain, an explanation of this occurrence. Well, what on earth can it mean? That's Thornhill's hat. And here is Hector. Give the dog some drink and meet directly. He seems thoroughly exhausted. The dog ate sparingly of some food that was put before him. And then, seizing the hat again in his mouth, he stood by the side of the ship and howled piteously. Then he put down the hat for a moment, and walking up to the captain, he pulled him by the skirt of the coat. You understand him, said the captain to the passenger. Something has happened to Thornhill, I'll be bound. And you see the object of the dog is to get me to follow him, to see what it's about. Think you so? It is a warning, if it be such at all, that I should not be inclined to neglect. And if you will follow the dog, I will accompany you. There may be more in it than we think of. And we ought not to allow Mr. Thornhill to be in want of any assistance that we can render him when we consider what great assistance he has been to us. Look how anxious the poor beast is. The captain ordered a boat to be launched at once and manned by four stout rowers. He then sprang into it, followed by the passenger, who was a Colonel Geoffrey of the Indian Army, and the dog immediately followed them, testifying by his manner great pleasure at the expedition they were undertaking and carrying the hat with him, which he evidently showed an immense disinclination to part with. The captain ordered the boat to proceed up the river to the temple stairs where Hector's master had expressed his intention of proceeding, and when the faithful animal saw the direction in which they were going, he lay down in the bottom of the boat perfectly satisfied and gave himself up to that repose, of which he was evidently so much in need. It cannot be said that Colonel Geoffrey suspected that anything of a very serious nature had happened. Indeed, their principal anticipation, when they came to talk it over, indicated in the probability that Thornhill had, with an impetuosity of character they knew very well, he possessed, interfered to redress what he considered some street grievance, and had got himself into the custody of the civil power in consequence. Of course, said the captain, Master Hector would view that as a very serious affair, and finding himself denied access to his master, see, he has come off to us, which was certainly the most prudent thing he could do, and I should not be at all surprised if he takes us to the door of some watch house where we shall find our friends snug enough. The tide was running up, and that Thornhill had not saved the turn of it by dropping down earlier to the vessel was one of the things that surprised the captain. However, they got up quickly, and as at that hour there was not much on the river to impede their progress, and as at that time the Thames was not a thoroughfare for little stinking steamboats, they soon reached the ancient temple stairs. The dog, who had until then seemed to be asleep, suddenly sprung up, and seizing the hat again in his mouth, rushed again on shore, and was closely followed by the captain and colonel. He led them through the temple with great rapidity, pursuing with admirable tact the precise path his master had taken towards the entrance to the temple in Fleet Street opposite Chancellery Lane. Guarding across the road then, he stopped with a low growl at the shop of Sweeney Todd, a proceeding which very much surprised those who followed him, and caused them to pause to hold a consultation there they proceeded further. While this was proceeding, Todd suddenly opened the door and aimed a blow at the dog with an iron bar, but the latter dexpressly avoided it, and, but that the door was suddenly closed again, he would have made Sweeney Todd regret such an interference. We must inquire into this, said the captain. There seems to be mutual ill will between that man and the dog. They both tried to enter the barber's shop, but it was fast on the inside, and after repeated knockings, Todd called from within saying, I won't open the door while that dog is there. He's mad, or it has a spite against me. I don't know or care which. It's a fact. That's all I'm aware of. I will undertake, said the captain, that the dog shall do you no harm, but open the door for in we must come and will. I will take your promise, said Sweeney Todd, but mind you keep it, for I shall protect myself and take the creature's life. So if you value it, you had better hold it fast. The captain pacified Hector as well as he could, and likewise Todd went into the silk handkerchief round his neck and held the other firmly in his grasp, after which Todd, who seemed to have some means from within of seeing what was going on, opened his door and admitted his visitors. Well, gentlemen, shaved or cut or dressed, I'm at your service. Which shall I begin with? The dog never took his eye off Todd, but kept up a low growl from the first moment of his entrance. It's rather a remarkable circumstance, said the captain, but this is a very sagacious dog, you see, and he belongs to a friend of ours who has most unaccountably disappeared. Has he really? said Todd. Tobias! Tobias! Yes, sir. Run to Mr. Phillips in Cat Eaton Street and get me six penny worth of preserved figs and don't say that I don't give you money this time when you go on a message. I think I did before, but you swallowed it, and when you come back, just please remember the insight into business I gave you yesterday. Yes, said the boy with a shutter, for he had a great horror of Sweeney Todd, as well he might. After the severe discipline he had received at his hands and away he went. Well, gentlemen, said Todd, what is it you require of me? We want to know if anyone having the appearance of an officer in the Navy came to your house. Yes, a rather good-looking man, white and beaten, with a bright blue eye and rather fair hair. Yes, yes, the same. Oh, to be sure he came here and I shaved him and polished him off. What do you mean by polishing him off? Brushing him up a bit and making him tidy. He said he'd got somewhere to go in the city and asked me the address of a Mr. Oakley a spectacle maker. I gave it him and then he went away. But as I was standing at my door about five minutes afterwards, it seemed to me as well as I could see the distance and he got into some row near the market. Did this dog come with him? A dog came with him, whether it was that dog or not, I don't know. But that's all you know of him? You never spoke a truer word in your life, said Sweeney Todd, as he diligently stropped a razor upon his great horny hand. This seemed something like a complete fix and the captain looked at Colonel Geoffrey and the Colonel at the captain for some moments in complete silence. At length, the liar said, it's a very extraordinary thing that the dog should come here if he missed his master somewhere else. I never heard of such a thing. No, I either, said Todd. It is extraordinary. So extraordinary that if I had not seen it, I would not have believed. I dare say you will find him in the next watch house. The dog had watched the countenance of all parties during this brief dialogue and twice or thrice he had interrupted it by a strange howling cry. I'll tell you what it is, said the barber. If that beast stays here, I'll be the death of him. I hate dogs to test them. And I tell you, as I told you before, if you value him at all, keep him away from me. You say you directed the person you described to us where to find a spectacle maker named Oakley. We happened to know that he was going in search of such a person, and as he had property of value about him, we will go there and ascertain if he reached his destination. It's end four street, a little shop with two windows. You cannot miss it. The dog, when he saw they were about to leave, roof furious, and it was with the greatest difficulty they succeeded by main force in getting him out of the shop and dragging him some short distance with them. But then he can try to get free of the handkerchief that held him and darting back, he sat down at Sweeney Todd's door, howling most piteously. They had no resource but to leave him, intending fully to call as they came back from Mr Oakley's. And as they looked behind them, they saw that Hector was collecting a crowd around the barber's door. And it was a singular thing to see a number of persons surrounding the dog, while he, to all appearance, appeared to be actually making efforts to explain something to the assemblage. They walked on until they reached the spectacle makers, and there they paused, for they all of a sudden recollected that the mission that Mr Thornhill had had to execute there was of a very delicate nature and one by no means to be lightly executed or even so much as mentioned probably in the hearing of Mr Oakley himself. We must not be so hasty, said the Colonel. But what am I to do? I sail tonight. At least I have got to go round to Liverpool with my vessel. Do not then call at Mr Oakley's at all at present, but leave me to ascertain the fact quietly and secretly. My anxiety for Thornhill will scarcely permit me to do so. But I suppose I must. And if you write me a letter to the Royal Oak Hotel at Liverpool, it will be sure to reach me. That is to say, unless you find Mr Thornhill himself, in which case I need not by any means give you so much trouble. You may depend upon me, my friendship for Mr Thornhill and gratitude, as you know, for the great service he has rendered to us all, will induce me to do my utmost to discover him. And, but that I know he set his heart upon performing the message he had to deliver accurately and well, I should recommend that we at once go into this house of Mr Oakley's, only that the fear of compromising the young lady, who is in the case and who will have quite enough to bear poor thing of her own grief, restrains me. After some more conversation of a similar nature, they decided that this should be the plan adopted. They made an unavailing call at the watch house of the district, being informed that no such person, nor anyone answering the description of Mr Thornhill, had been engaged in any disturbance or apprehended by any of the constables. And this only involved a thing in greater mystery than ever. So they went back to try and recover the dog, but that was a matter easier to be desired and determined upon than executed for threats and persuasions were alike ineffectual. Hector would not stir an inch from the barber's door. There he sat, with the hat by his side, a most melancholy and strange-looking spectacle, and a most efficient guard was he for that hat. And it was evident that while he chose to exhibit the formidable row of teeth he did occasionally, when anybody showed a disposition to touch it, it would remain sacred. Some people, too, had thrown a few copper coins into the hat, so that Hector, if his mind had been that way inclined, was making a very good thing of it. But who shall describe the anger of Sweeney Todd when he found that he was likely to be so beleaguered? He doubted if, upon the arrival of the first customer to his shop, the dog might dart in and take him by storm. But that apprehension went off at last when a young gallant came from the temple to have his hair dressed and the dog allowed him to pass in and out unmolested without making any attempt to follow him. This was something at all events, but whether or not it ensured Sweeney Todd's personal safety when he should himself come out was quite another matter. It was an experiment, however, which he must try. It was quite out of the question that he should remain a prisoner much longer in his own place, so after a time he thought he might try the experiment and that it would be best done when there were plenty of people there because if the dog assaulted him he would have an excuse for any amount of violence he might think proper to use upon the occasion. It took some time, however, to screw his courage to the sticking place, but at length, muttering deep curses between his clenched teeth, he made his way to the door and carried in his hand a long knife which he thought a more efficient weapon against the dog's teeth than the iron bludgeon he had formerly used. I hope he will attack me," said Todd to himself, as he thought. But Tobias, who had come back from the place where they sold the preserved figs, heard him. And after devoutly in his own mind wishing that the dog would actually devour Sweeney, said aloud, Oh, dear sir, you don't wish that, I'm sure. Who told you what I wished or what I did not? Remember Tobias and keep your own counsel or it will be the worst for you and your mother too. Remember that. Then the boy shrunk back. How had Sweeney Todd terrified the boy about his mother? He must have done so, or Tobias would never have shrunk as he did. Then that rascally barter whom we begin to suspect more crimes than fall ordinarily to the share of man went cautiously out of his shop door. We cannot pretend to account for why it was so, but, as faithful recorders of facts, we have to state that Hector did not fly at him, that with a melancholy and subdued expression of countenance he looked up in the face of Sweeney Todd. Then he whined piteously, as if he would have said, Give me my master, and I will forgive you all that you have done. Give me back my beloved master, and you shall see that I am neither revengeful nor ferocious. This kind of expression was as legibly written in the poor creature's countenance as if he had actually been endowed with speech and uttered the words themselves. This was what Sweeney Todd certainly did not expect, and to tell the truth it staggered and astonished him a little. He would have been glad of an excuse to commit some act of violence, but he had no none, and as he looked in the faces of the people who were around, he felt quite convinced that it would not be the most prudent thing in the world to interfere with a dog in any way that savored a violence. Where is the dog's master? said one. Ah, where indeed? said Todd. I should not wonder if he had come to some foul end. But I say, old soapsuts! cried a boy. The dog says, you did it! There was a general laugh, but the barber was no means disconcerted, and he shortly replied, Does he? He's wrong, then! Sweeney Todd had no desire to enter into anything like a controversy with the people, so he turned again and entered his own shop, in a distant corner of which he sat down and, folding his great gaunt-looking arms over his chest, he gave himself up to thought. And if we might judge from the expression of his countenance, those thoughts were of a pleasant anticipatory character, where now and then he gave such a grim sort of smile as might well have sat upon the features of some ogre. And now we will return to another scene of a widely different character. End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Catherine Eastman. The String of Pearls Author Unknown Chapter 4 Hark! 12 o'clock at midday is cheerily proclaimed by St. Dunstan's Church, and scarcely have the sounds done echoing throughout the neighbourhood, and scarcely has the clock of Lincoln's Inn done chiming in with its announcement of the same hour, when Bellyard, Temple Bar, becomes a scene of commotion. What a scampering of feet is there! What a laughing and talking! What a jostling to be first! And what an immense number of maneuvers are resorted to by some of the throng to distance others. And mostly from Lincoln's Inn do these persons, young and old, but most certainly a majority of the former, come bustling and striving. Although from the neighbouring legal establishments, likewise, there come not a few. The Temple contributes its numbers, and from the more distant Grey's Inn there come a goodly lot. Now Bellyard is almost choked up, and a stranger would wonder what could be the matter, and most probably stand in some doorway until the commotion was over. Is it a fire? Is it a fight? Or anything else sufficiently alarming and extraordinary to excite the junior members of the legal profession to such a species of madness? No, it is none of these. Nor is there a fat cause to be run for, which, in the hands of some clever practitioner, might become quite a vested interest. No, the enjoyment is purely one of a physical character. And all the pacing and racing, all this turmoil and trouble, all this pushing, jostling, laughing and shouting is to see who will get first to love its pie shop. Yes, on the left-hand side of Bellyard, going down from Cary Street, was, at the time we write of, one of the most celebrated shops for the sale of veal and pork pies that London ever produced. High and low, rich and poor, resorted to it. Its fame had spread far and wide, and it was because the first batch of those pies came up at twelve o'clock that there was such a rush of the legal profession to obtain them. Their fame had spread even to great distances, and many persons carried them to the suburbs of the city as quite a treat to friends and relations there residing. And well did they deserve their reputation, those delicious pies. There was about them a flavour never surpassed and rarely equalled. The paste was of the most delicate construction and impregnated with the aroma of a delicious gravy that defies description. Then the small portions of meat which they contained were so tender, and the fat and the lean so artistically mixed up that to eat one of love its pies was such a provocative to eat another that many persons who came to lunch stayed to dine, wasting more than an hour perhaps of precious time, and endangering, who knows to the contrary, the success of some lawsuit thereby. The counter in love its pie shop was in the shape of a horseshoe, and it was the custom of the young bloods from the temple and Lincoln's inn to sit in a row upon its edge while they partook of the delicious pies and chatted gaily about one concern and another. Many an appointment was made at love its pie shop, and many a piece of gossiping scandal was there first circulated. The din of tongues was prodigious. The ringing laugh of the boy who looked upon the quarter of an hour he spent at love its as the brightest of the whole twenty-four mingled gaily with the more boisterous mirth of his seniors and owe with what rapidity the pies disappeared. They were brought up on large trays, each of which contained about a hundred, and from these trays they were so speedily transferred to the mouths of Mrs. Love its customers that it looked like a work of magic. And now we have let out some portion of the secret. There was a mistress, Love-it, but possibly our readers guessed as much for what but a female hand and that female buxom, young and good-looking, could have ventured upon the production of those pies. Yes, Mrs. Love-it was all that, and every enamored young scion of the law as he devoured his pie, pleased himself with the idea that the charming Mrs. Love-it had made that pie especially for him, and that fate or predestination had placed it in his hands. And it was astonishing to see with what impartiality and with tact the fair pastry cook bestowed her smiles upon her admirers so that none could say he was neglected while it was extremely difficult for anyone to say he was preferred. This was pleasant, but at the same time it was provoking to all except Mrs. Love-it in whose favour it got up a sort of excitement that paid extraordinarily well because some of the young fellows thought and thought it with wisdom, too, that he who consumed the most pies would be in the most likely way to receive the greatest number of smiles from the lady. Acting upon this supposition, some of her more enthusiastic admirers went on consuming the pies until they were almost ready to burst. But there were others, again, of a more philosophic turn of mind who went for the pies only and did not care one jot for Mrs. Love-it. These declared that her smile was cold and uncomfortable, that it was upon her lips but had no place in her heart, that it was the set smile of a ballet dancer which is about one of the most unmerthful things in existence. Then there were some who went even beyond this, and while they admitted the excellence of the pies and went every day to partake of them, swore that Mrs. Love-it had quite a sinister aspect and that they could see what a merely superficial affair her blandishments were and that there was a lurking devil in her eye, that, if once roused, would be capable of achieving some serious things and might not be so easily quelled again. By five minutes past twelve Mrs. Love-it's counter was full, and the savoury steam of the hot pies went out in fragrant clouds into bell-yard, being sniffed up by many a poor wretch passing by, who lacked the means of making one in the throng that were devouring the dainty morsels within. Why, Tobias Reich, said a young man with his mouth full of pie, where have you been since you left Mr. Snow's in paper-guildings? I've not seen you for some days. Now, said Tobias, I've gone into another line. Instead of being a lawyer and helping to shave the clients, I'm going to shave the lawyers now. A dip any pork, if you please, Mrs. Love-it. Ah, who would be an ember or if he couldn't get pies like these? I, Mr. Clift. Well, they are good, of course we know that, Tobias, but do you mean to say you're going to be a barber? Yes, I am with Sweeney Dodd, the barber of Fleet Street, close to St. Constance. What deuce you are? Well, I'm going to a party tonight and I'll drop in and get dressed and shaved and patronize your master. Tobias put his mouth close to the ear of the young lawyer and in a fearful sort of whisper said the one word Doubt. Doubt, what for? Tobias made no answer and, throwing down his two pence, scampered out of the shop as fast as he could. He had only been sent a message by Sweeney Dodd in the neighborhood, but as he heard the clock strike twelve and two penny-pieces were lying at the bottom of his pocket, it was not in human nature to resist running into love-its and converting them into a pork pie. What an odd thing, thought the young lawyer. I'll just drop in at Sweeney Dodd's now on purpose and ask Tobias what he means. I quite forgot, too, while he was here to ask him what all that riot was about a dog at Todd's door. A veal, said a young man rushing in, a two penny veal, Mrs. Lovett. When he got it, he consumed it with veracity and then, noticing an acquaintance in the shop, he whispered to him, I can't stand it any more. I've cut the spectacle-maker. Joanna is faithless and I know not what to do. Have another pie. But what's a pie to Joanna Oakley? You know, Dilkey, that I only went there to be near the charmer. Damn the shutters and curse the spectacles. She loves another and I am a desperate individual. I should like to do some horrible and desperate act. Oh, Joanna. Joanna, you have driven me to the verge of... what do you call it? I'll take another veal, if you please, Mrs. Lovett. Well, I was wondering how you got on, said his friend Dilkey, and thinking of calling upon you. Oh, it was all right. It was all right at first, she smiled upon me. You are quite sure she didn't laugh at you? Sir, Mr. Dilkey, I say, are you sure that instead of smiling upon you, she was not laughing at you? Am I sure? Do you wish to insult me, Mr. Dilkey? I look upon you as a puppy, sir, a horrid puppy. Very good. Now I am convinced that the girl has been having a bit of fun at your expense. Are you not aware, Sam, that your nose turns up so much that it's enough to pitch you head over heels? How do you suppose that any girl under forty-five would waste a word upon you? Mind, I don't say this to offend you in any way, but just quietly by way of asking a question. Sam looked daggers, and probably he might have attempted some desperate act in the pie-shop, if at that moment he had not caught the eye of Mrs. Lovett, and he saw by the expression on that lady's face that anything in the shape of a riot would be speedily suppressed. So he darted out of the place at once to carry his sorrows and his bitterness elsewhere. It was only between twelve and one o'clock that such a tremendous rush and influx of visitors came to the pie-shop, for although there was a good custom the whole day, and the concern was a money-making one from morning till night, it was at that hour principally that the great consumption of pies took place. Tobias knew from experience that Sweeney Todd was a skillful calculator of the time it ought to take to go to different places, and accordingly, since he had occupied some portion of that most valuable of all commodities at Mrs. Lovett's, he arrived quite breathless at his master's shop. There sat the mysterious dog with the hat, and Tobias lingered for a moment to speak to the animal. Dogs are great physiognomists, and as the creature looked into Tobias' face he seemed to draw a favourable conclusion regarding him, for he submitted to a caress. "'Poor fellow,' said Tobias, "'I wish I knew what had become of your master, but it made me shake like a leaf to wake up last night and ask myself the question. You shall starve, though, if I can help it. I haven't much for myself, but you shall have some of it.' As he spoke, Tobias took from his pocket some not very tempting cold meat which was intended for his own dinner, and which he had wrapped up in not the cleanest of cloths. He gave a piece to the dog, who took it with a dejected air, and then crouched down at Sweeney Todd's door again. Just then, as Tobias was about to enter the shop, he thought he heard from within a strange shrieking sort of sound. On the impulse of the moment he recoiled a step or two, and then from some other impulse he dashed forward at once and entered the shop. The first object that presented itself to his attention, lying upon a side-table, was a hat with a handsome gold-headed walking cane lying across it. The armchair in which customers usually sat to be shaved was vacant, and Sweeney Todd's face was just projected into the shop from the back parlor and wearing a most singular and hideous expression. "'Well, Tobias,' he said, as he advanced, rubbing his great hands together. "'Well, Tobias, so you could not resist the pie-shop.' "'Ow, does he know,' thought Tobias. "'Yes, sir, I've been to the pie-shop, but I didn't stay a minute.' "'Hierarchy, Tobias, the only thing I can excuse in the way of delay upon an errand is for you to get one of Mrs. Lovett's pies. "'That I can look over, so think no more about it. Are they not delicious, Tobias?' "'Yes, sir, they are, but some gentleman seems to have left his hat and stick.' "'Yes,' said Sweeney Todd, he has, and lifting the stick, he struck Tobias a blow with it that felled him to the ground. "'Lesson the second to Tobias' rag, which teaches him to make no remarks about what does not concern him. "'You may think what you like, Tobias' rag, but you shall say only what I like.' "'I won't endure it,' cried the boy. "'I won't be knocked about in this way. I tell you, Sweeney Todd, I won't.' "'You won't? Have you forgotten your mother?' "'You say you have a power over my mother, but I don't know what it is, and I cannot and will not believe it. I'll leave you and come of it, won't may. I'll go to sea or anywhere rather than stay in such a place as this.' "'Oh, you will, will you?' "'Then, Tobias, you and I must come to some explanation. "'I'll tell you what power I have over your mother, and then perhaps you will be satisfied.' "'Last winter, when the frost had continued eighteen weeks, and you and your mother were starving, she was employed to clean out the chambers of a Mr. King in the temple, a cold-hearted, severe man, who never forgave anything in all his life, and never will. "'I'll remember,' said Tobias, "'we was starving and owed a whole guinea for rent, but mother borrowed it and paid it, and after that got a situation where she now is.' "'Ah, you think so. The rent was paid, but Tobias, my boy, a word in your ear. "'She took a silver candlestick from Mr. King's chambers to pay it. "'I know it. I can prove it. "'Think of that, Tobias, and be discreet.' "'Of mercy upon us,' said the boy, "'they would take her life.' "'Her life!' screamed Sweeney Todd. "'I, to be sure, they would. "'They would hang her. Hang her,' I say. "'And now, mind, if you force me by any conduct of your own "'to mention this thing, you are your mother's executioner. "'I had better go and be deputy hangman at once "'and turn her off.' "'Horrible? Horrible?' "'Oh, you don't like that. "'Indeed, that don't suit you, Master Tobias. "'Be discreet, then, and you have nothing to fear. "'Do not force me to show a power which will be as complete "'as it is terrible.' "'I will say nothing. I will think nothing.' "'Tis well. "'Now go and put that hat and stick in yonder cupboard. "'I shall be absent for a short time, "'anyone comes, tell the mion called out "'and shall not return for an hour or perhaps longer, "'and mind you, take good care of the shop.' Sweeney Todd took off his apron and put on an immense coat with huge lapels, and then, clapping a three-cornered hat on his head and casting a strange, withering kind of look at Tobias, he sallied forth into the street. End of Chapter 4 Alas, poor Joanna Oakley, thy day has passed away and brought with it no tidings of him you love. And, oh, what a weary day for the fearful doubts and anxieties has it been. Tortured by doubts, hopes, and fears, that day was one of the most wretched that poor Joanna had ever passed. Not even two years before, when she had parted with her lover, had she felt such an exquisite pang of anguish as now filled her heart, when she saw the day gliding away in the evening creeping on apace, without word or token from mark and gestery. She did not herself know until all the agony of disappointment had come across her, how much she had counted upon hearing something from him on that occasion. And when the evening deepened in tonight and hope grew so slender that she could no longer rely upon it for the least support, she was compelled to proceed to her own chamber and feigning in disposition to avoid her mother's questions, for Mrs. Oakley was at home and making herself and everybody else as uncomfortable as possible. She flung herself on a humble couch and gave way to a perfect passion of tears. Oh, mark! Mark, she said, why do you thus desert me when I have relied so abundantly upon your true affection? Oh, why have you not sent me some token of your existence and of your continued love? The nearest, slightest word would have been sufficient, and happy. She wept then such bitter tears as only such a heart as hers can know when it feels the deep and bitter anguish of desertion. And when the rock upon which it supposed it had built its fondest hopes resolves itself to a mere quicksand in which becomes engulfed all of good that this world can afford to the just and the beautiful. Oh, it is heart-rending to think that such a one as she, Joanna Oakley, are being so full of all those holy and gentle emotions which should constitute the truest felicity should thus feel that life to her had lost its greatest charms and that nothing but despair remained. I will wait until midnight, she said, and even then it will be a mockery to seek repose, and tomorrow I must make myself some exertion to discover some tidings of him. Then she began to ask herself what that exertion could be in what manner a young and an experienced girl such as she was could hope to succeed in her inquiries. And the midnight hour came at last telling her that, giving the utmost latitude to the word day it had gone at last and she was left despairing. She lay the whole of the night sobbing and only at times dropping into an unquiet slumber during which painful images were presented to her all, however, having the same tendency pointing towards the presumed fact that Mark and Gesture was no more. But the weariest night to the weariest waker will pass away and at length the soft and beautiful dawns stall into the chamber of Joanna Oakley chasing away some of the more horrible visions of the night but having little effectance of doing the sadness that had taken possession of her she felt that it would be better for her to make her appearance below than to hazard the remarks and conjectures that her not doing so would give rise to. So, all unfitted as she was to engage in the most ordinary intercourse, she crept down to the breakfast parlor, looking more like the ghost of her former self than the bright and beautiful being we have represented her to the reader. Her father understood what it was that robbed the cheek of its bloom and although he saw it with much distress yet he had fortified himself with what he considered was some substantial reasons for future hopefulness. It had become part of his philosophy it generally is a part of the philosophy of the old to consider that those sensations of the mind that arise from disappointed affections are of the most evanescent character and that although for a time they exhibit themselves with violence they like grief for the dead soon pass away, scarcely leaving a trace behind of their former existence and perhaps he was right as regards the greatest number of those passions but he was certainly wrong when he applied that sort of worldly wise knowledge to his daughter Joanna she was one of those rare beings whose hearts are not won by a regarded flatterer who may buzz the accents of admiration in their ears, no she was qualified, eminently qualified to love once but only once and like the passion flower that blooms into abundant beauty once and never afterwards puts forth a blossom she allowed her heart to expand to the soft influence of affection which when crushed by adversity was gone forever really Joanna said Mrs. Oakley in the true conventional twang he looked so pale and ill that I must positively speak to Mr. Lupin about you Mr. Lupin my dear said the spectacle maker may be all very well in his way as a parson but I don't see what he can do with Joanna looking pale a pious man Mr. Oakley has to do with everything and everybody that he must be the most intolerable bore in existence and I don't wonder if Mr. Lupin has been kicked out of some people's houses as I have heard Mr. Lupin has been and if he has Mr. Oakley I can tell you he glories in it Mr. Lupin likes to suffer for the faith and if he were to be made a martyr tomorrow I am quite certain it would give him a deal of pleasure my dear I am quite sure it would not give him half the pleasure it would mean I understand your insinuation Mr. Oakley you would like to have been murdered out of his holiness but though you say these kind of things at your own breakfast table you won't say as much when he comes to tea this afternoon to tea Mrs. Oakley haven't I told you over and over again that I will not have that man in my house and haven't I told you Mr. Oakley twice that number of times that he shall come to tea and I have asked him now and it can't be altered but Mrs. Oakley it's of no use Mr. Lupin has come into tea and come he shall and if you don't like it you can go out there now I am sure you can't complain now you have actually the liberty of going out but you are like the dog in the manger Mr. Oakley I know that well enough and nothing will please you the fine liberty indeed the liberty of going out of my house to let somebody else into it that I don't like no complaint is coming on the beating of the heart and the hysterics I know it produces it it's your father's brutality and just because Dr. Fungus said over and over again that I was be kept perfectly quiet your father seizes upon the opportunity like a wild beast or a raving maniac to try and make me ill Mr. Oakley jumped up stamped his feet upon the floor and uttering something about the probability of his becoming a maniac in a very short time rushed into his shop as if he were doing it for a wager this little affair between her father and her mother certainly had the effect for a time of diverting attention from Joanna and she was able to assume a cheerfulness she did not feel but she had something of her father's spirit in her as regards Mr. Lupin and most assortedly objected to sitting down to any meal whatever with that individual so that Mrs. Oakley was left in a minority of one upon the occasion which perhaps as she fully expected was no great matter at all Joanna went upstairs to her own room which commanded a view of the street it was an old fashioned house with a balcony in front and as she looked endlessly out into four streets which was far then from being the thoroughfarer it is now she saw standing in the doorway on the opposite side of the way a stranger who was looking intently at the house and who when he caught her eye walked instantly across to it and cast something into the balcony of the first floor then he touched his cap and walked rapidly from the street the thought immediately occurred to Joanna that this might possibly be some messenger from him concerning whose existence and welfare she was so deeply anxious it is not to be wanted out therefore that with the name of Mark and Jessery upon her lips she should rush down to the balcony in intense anxiety to hear and see if such was really the case when she reached the balcony she found lying in it to scrap of paper in which a stone was wrapped up in order to give it away so that it might be cast with certainty into the balcony with trembling eagerness she opened the paper and read upon it the following words for news of Mark and Jessery come to the temple gardens one hour before sunset and do not fear of dressing a man who will be holding a white rose in his hand he lives he lives she cried he lives and joy again becomes the inhabitant of my bosom I would his daylight now and sunshine midnight of despair Mark and Jessery lives and I shall be happy yet she placed a little scrap of paper and a bosom and then with clasped hands and a delighted expression of countenance she repeated the brief but expressive words contained adding yes yes I will be there the white rose is an emblem of his purity and affection his spotless love and that is why his messenger carries it I will be there one hour before sunset ah two hours before sunset I will be there joy joy he lives he lives Mark and Jessery lives perchance too successful in his object he returns to tell me that he can make me his and that no obstacle can now interfere to frustrate our union time time floats onwards on your fleet's opinions she went to her own apartment but it was not as she had last gone to it to weep on the contrary it was to smile at her former fears and to admit the philosophy of the assertion that we suffer much more from the dread of those things that never happen than we do for actual calamities which occur in a full force to us oh that this messenger she said at combat yesterday what hours of anguish I should have been spared but I will not complain it shall not be said that I repine at present joy because it did not come before I will be happy when I can and in the consciousness that I shall soon hear blissful tidings of Mark and Jessery I will banish every fear the impatience which she now felt brought its pains and its penalties with it and yet it was quite a different description of feelings to any she had formerly endured and certainly far more desirable than the absolute anguish that had taken possession of her upon hearing nothing of Mark and Jessery it was strange very strange that the thought never crossed a mind that the tidings she had to hear in the temple gardens from the stranger might be evil ones but certainly such a thought did not occur to her and she looked forward to a meeting which she certainly had no evidence to know might not be of the most disastrous character she asked herself over and over again if she should tell her father what had occurred but as often as she thought of doing so she shrank from carrying out the mental suggestion and all the natural disposition again to keep to herself a secret of her happiness returned to her with full force but yet she was not so unjust as not to feel that it was treating her father but slightingly to throw all her sorrows into his lap as it were and then to keep from him everything of joy appertaining to the same circumstances this was a thing that she was not likely to continue doing and so she made up a mind to relieve a conscience from the pang it would otherwise have had by determining to tell him after the interview in the temple gardens what was its result but she could not make up a mind to do so beforehand it was so pleasant and so delicious to keep the secret all to herself and to feel that she alone knew that her lover had so closely kept faith with her as to be only one day behind his time and sending to her and that day perhaps far from being his fault and so she reasoned to herself and tried to wile away the anxious hours sometimes succeeding and forgetting how long she would wait until sunset and at other times feeling as if each minute was perversely swelling itself out into ten times the usual proportion of time in order to become wearisome to her she had said she would be at the temple gardens two hours before sunset instead of one and she kept her word for looking happier than she had done for weeks she tripped down the stairs of her father's house and was about to leave it by the private staircase when a strange goat looking figure attracted her attention this was no other than the reverend Mr. Lupin he was a long strange looking man and upon this occasion he came upon what he called horseback that is to say he was mounted upon a very small pony which seemed quite unequal to sport his weight and was so sure that if the reverend gentlemen had not poked his legs out to an angle they must inevitably have touched the ground praise the lord he said I have intercepted the evil one maiden I have come here at thy mother's bidding and thou shalt remain and partake of the mixture cold tea Joanna scapes the condescended to glance at him but drawing a mantle close around her which he actually had the impertinence to endeavour to lay hold of she walked on so that the reverend gentleman was left to make the best he could of the matter stop he cried stop I can well perceive that the devil has a strong hold of you I can well perceive the lord have mercy upon me this animal has some design against me as sure as fate this last ejaculation arose from the fact that the pony had plung up his heels behind in a most mysterious manner I'm afraid sir said a lad who was no other than our old acquaintance Sam I'm afraid sir that there is something to matter with the pony up with the pony's heels again in the same unaccustomed manner bless me said the reverend gentleman he never did such a thing before I... there he goes again murder! young man I pray you helped me to get down I think I know you you're the nephew of the godly Mrs. Pump truly this animal wishes to be the death of me at this moment the pony gave such a vigorous kick up behind that Mr. Lupin was fairly pitched upon his head and made a complete somersault alighting with his heels in the spectacle maker's passage and then unfortunately happened that Mrs. Oakley at that moment hearing the altercation came rushing out and the first thing she did was to fall sprawling over Mr. Lupin's feet Sam now felt the time to go and as we dislike useless miseries we may as well explain that these extraordinary circumstances arose from the fact that Sam had bought himself from the haberdasher's opposite a half penny worth of pins and had amused himself for making a pin cushion of the hindquarters of the reverend Lupin's pony which not being accustomed to that sort of thing had kicked out vigorously in opposition to the same and produced the results we have recorded. Joanna Oakley was some distance upon a road before the reverend gentleman was pitched into her father's house in the manner we have described so that she knew nothing of it nor would she have cared if she had for her mind was wholly bent upon the expedition she was proceeding on as she walked upon that side of the way of Fleet Street with Sweeney Todd's house and shop were situated and she prompted her to stop for a moment and look at the melancholy looking dog that stood watching hats at his door the appearance of grief upon the creature's face could not be mistaken and as she gazed she saw the shop door gently open and a piece of meat thrown out those are kind people she said be they who they may but when she saw the dog turn away from the meat with loathing and herself observed that there was a white powder upon it the idea that it was poisoned and only intended for the poor the dog's destruction came instantly across her mind and when she saw the horrible looking face of Sweeney Todd glaring at her from the partially open door she could not doubt any further effect for that face was quite enough to give a warrant for any amount of villainy whatever she passed on with a shudder little suspecting however that that dog had anything to do with her fate or the circumstances which made up the sum of her destiny it wanted a full hour to the appointed time meaning when she reached the temple gardens and partly blaming herself that she was so soon while at the same time she would not for worlds have been away she sat down on one of the garden seats to think over the past and recalled to a memory with all the vivid freshness of young love's devotion the many gentle words which from time to time had been spoken to her to some a sense by him whose faith she had never doubted and whose image was enshrined at the bottom of her heart End of Chapter 5 Recording by Shawna Rada