CHAPTER CVIII.

RETURNS TO MRS. LOVETT, AND SHOWS HOW SHE GOT OUT OF THE RIVER.

Our readers have been aware for a long time past that Mrs. Lovett was no

common, everyday, sort of woman, and what we are about to relate

concerning her, will be further proof that way tending, if it should be

by any sceptical person in any way required.

To all appearance, Todd had seen the last of her on the river. But Todd

was born to be deceived, and at the time he should have recollected an

old adage, to the effect that, folks who are born to be hanged are very

seldom drowned.

We shall see.

Mrs. Lovett did go down, but as fortune and the amazingly strong current

of the river would have it, she came up again, with a barge between her

and Todd, and involuntarily laying hold of the side of the barge, there

she remained, too exhausted to cry out, until Todd was far off.

She was seen at last by a man who was at the window of a public-house,

and in the course of ten minutes after Todd had began to congratulate

himself upon the demise of Mrs. Lovett, she was in a warm bed at the

public-house, and her clothes drying at the kitchen-fire.

She had scarcely been for a moment at all insensible; and as she lay in

bed she had a most accurate perception of all that happened. The reader

may suppose that the feelings of Mrs. Lovett towards Sweeney Todd, were

by no means ameliorated by the morning's proceedings.

And yet how calculating she was in her rage!

As the effects of her submersion wore off, and her ordinary strength

came back to her, her mind became intently fixed upon but one object,

and that was how to be completely and bitterly revenged upon Todd.

"He shall hang," she said. "He shall hang, but I must think of the

means, while I likewise take care to avoid the gallows myself; but he

shall hang, let the consequences be what they may."

The landlady of the public-house was very assiduous in her attention to

Mrs. Lovett, and while she was thus thinking of her revenge upon Todd,

she (the landlady) made her appearance in the room with a steaming glass

of mulled and spiced wine.

"I hope you are better," she said; "and if you will give me the name and

address of your friends, I will send to them at once."

"Friends!" said Mrs. Lovett. "How came you to think that I had any

friends?"

"Well, I hardly thought you were without. Don't most folks have friends

of some sort or another?"

"Ah, I had forgotten. I have a friend with me--a very dear friend, who

will not forsake me. I have more of them at home--for I have a home."

"Oh," thought the landlady, "she is raving."

"Bring me my stays," said Mrs. Lovett.

The stays, which, together with the rest of her apparel, now had got

quite dry, was brought to her, and in a little secret pocket in them,

Mrs. Lovett dived with her two fingers, and found a damp five pound

note.

"Take that," she said, "for your trouble. I do not want any change. Only

be so good now as to help me to dress, and tell me what the time is."

"Three o'clock," said the landlady, "and I'm sure you can't think how

pleased I am that you are better. Do you really think you are strong

enough to go home yet?"

"Yes. What I have to do at home will lend me strength, if I wanted it."

Mrs. Lovett was soon dressed, and at her request a coach was sent for;

and in the course of half-an-hour from the time that the landlady had

asked her if she should send for her friends, she, Mrs. Lovett, was

bowling along the dense thoroughfares of the city to her home.

What pen could describe the dark and malignant thoughts that filled her

brain as she proceeded? What language would be strong enough to depict

the storm of passion that raged in the bosom of that imperious woman?

It must suffice, that she made herself a solemn promise of vengeance

against Todd, let the risk or the actual consequences to herself be what

they might. If with perfect safety to herself she could be revenged upon

him--of course she would; but she resolved not to hesitate, even if it

involved a self-sacrifice, so full of the very agony of rage was she.

"He shall hang--he shall hang!"

Such were the words she uttered as the lumbering hackney-coach reached

Fleet Street.

For all she knew to the contrary, Todd might be looking from his door,

for that he had gone home in great triumph at the thought of having got

rid of her she did not doubt; and so as it was just then a great object

with her to keep him in that pleasant delusion, she got quite down among

the straw at the bottom of the hackney-coach.

But she kept her eyes--those bright metallic-looking eyes, which, with a

questionable taste, had been so much admired by the lawyers' clerks of

the Temple and Lincoln's Inn--she kept her eyes just on the edge of the

coach window, so that she might have a passing glance at Todd's shop.

Todd was at the door.

How pleased and self-satisfied he looked! He was rubbing his huge hands

slowly together, and a grim smile was on his horrible features.

Mrs. Lovett clinched her hands until her nails made marks in the palms

of them that did not come out for hours, and in a harsh growling voice,

she said--

"Ah, grin on, grin on, fiend--your hours from now shall be numbered. You

shall hang, hang, and I shall hope to see you in your last agony. If any

bribe can induce the hangman, by some common bungling to protract your

pain, he has but to name his price and he shall have it."

The coach rolled on.

Mrs. Lovett rose up from among the straw with a shudder. The immersion

in the river had not drowned her certainly, but it had done her no good;

and she could not conceal from herself, that a serious illness might

very probably result from her unexpected cold bath.

"Never mind!" she said. "Never mind! What care I so that I complete my

revenge against Todd? If I die after that it will not much matter. I

will have my revenge."

The coach stopped at the corner of Bell-yard.

"That will do," said Mrs. Lovett as she pulled the check-string. "That

will do. I will alight here."

She paid the coachman double the amount of his fare, so he only muttered

a few curses between his teeth, and drove off.

With quite a staggering step, for Mrs. Lovett was anything but well, she

walked to her own shop. The door was closed, and she looked through the

upper half of it which was of glass, just in time to see the highly

trustworthy personage whom she had left in charge of the concern, place

a bottle to her lips, and slowly lift it up.

Mrs. Lovett opened the door, just as the titillating contents of the

bottle were rippling over the palate of the lady, who had had such an

adventure with Todd.

"Wretch!" exclaimed Mrs. Lovett.

Down fell the bottle, and smashed into many fragments on the floor of

the shop. An unmistakable odour of gin filled the air.

"So," cried Mrs. Lovett, "this is the way you employ your time is it,

while I am away?"

[Illustration: Mrs. Lovett Finds Somebody Out--At Home.]

"T--T--Todd," stuttered the woman, "T--T--Todd is such a nice man."

"Todd, do you say?"

"Yes--I--I say--T--Todd is a nice man."

"Answer me, wretch, instantly. Has he been here? Speak, or I will shake

your wretched life out of you."

Mrs. Lovett suited the action to the word, and the word to the action,

for she clutched her substitute by the throat, and shook her vehemently.

"D--D--Don't Mrs. L.--I--will--tell all--all. I will indeed."

"Speak then. Has Todd been here?"

"In course, and quite a nice man--I--I may say--quite a gin--I mean a

nice man--a cordial old Tom. No! Cream of the--Todd."

"Wretch!"

Mrs. Lovett paced the shop for a few moments in an agony of rage. Todd

presuming upon her death had actually been there, no doubt upon an

expedition to ransack the place. A touch to the lock of the parlour

door, told her at once that it was open, and from that moment she no

longer could doubt but that the whole house had been subject to the

scrutiny of Sweeney Todd.

"The wretch!" she said. "He thought to find enough no doubt to reward

his pains, but he has been deceived in that hope, I feel well assured.

What I have here, I have too well hidden for any search of a few hours

to find it. If they were to pull the house to pieces, brick by brick and

timber by timber, they might find something to pay them for their

labour."

The lady with the partiality for gin, now seemed to be lapsing into a

state of somnolency, but Mrs. Lovett gave her rather a rough shake.

"Tell me," she said, "when did this man come, and what did he say to

you?"

"Gin!"

"I ask you what Todd said to you?"

"Oh, yes. I--really--fine times. Old Tom Todd--cream of the Todd."

It was quite clear that she was too far gone in drunkenness for anything

distinct or to be relied upon to be got from her, and the only thing

Mrs. Lovett had to do, was to consider what to do with her. If she threw

her out of the shop into the court, the probability was, that a crowd

would collect round her, and that was just what Mrs. Lovett did not

want. Indeed, for all she, Mrs. Lovett knew, the drunken woman might

stagger round to Todd's, and let him know what of all things, she wished

to keep secret from him, namely, that she had returned.

Mrs. Lovett had not yet formed her plans, and certainly until she had

done so, she did not want any premature knowledge of her rescue from

drowning to reach the ears of Todd.

But what to do with the drunken woman was the question. Mrs. Lovett had

to think a little over that. At length, however, she made up her mind,

and approaching the lady who had such a partiality for Old Tom, she

said--

"Did you ever taste my cordial spirit, that I have up stairs in my

bedroom?"

"Eh?"

"Come, I will give you a bottle of it, if you will walk up stairs. Only

try."

By the assistance of Mrs. Lovett, the gin heroine rose and tottered to

the staircase; Mrs. Lovett pushed her on, and stair by stair she managed

to mount to the first floor. It was by far too great a job to get her

any further, so opening the door of the back-room, Mrs. Lovett pushed

her in with violence, and slammed the door upon her.

"Lie there and rot," she said, "so that you are out of my way. Lie there

and rot, idiot."

Without then pausing to cast another thought or look at her victim, Mrs.

Lovett walked down the staircase again to the shop.

When there, she felt a kind of faintness come over her, and she was

compelled to sit down for a few minutes to recover herself.

"How much I have to think of," she said, when she had a little

recovered. "How much I have to think of, and how little a time in which

to think. Something must be done before midnight. Todd will fly if I do

not do something."

A racking pain in her head, compelled her to rest it upon her hands.

"If I thought," she said, "that I should get very ill--if I thought that

there was any chance that I should die, I would go at once to the police

office and denounce him. But no--'tis only a passing pang, and I shall

soon be better--shall soon be myself again."

She did not speak now for some few moments, and during that time she

rocked to and fro, for the pain in her head was excessive. It did not

last, however, but gradually went off, leaving only a sensation of

dulness behind it, with some amount of confusion.

Then Mrs. Lovett, as well as she was able, set about thinking calmly and

dispassionately, as she hoped, about the best means of satisfying her

revenge against Todd. That that revenge should be complete and ample,

she was resolved.

Gradually she began to work out a plan of operations, and as she did so,

her eyes brightened, and something of her old expression of bold

confidence came back to her.

She rose and paced the shop.

"Yes, the villain shall die," she said, "by the hands of the

executioner--I swear it! And he shall know, too, that it is I who have

doomed him to such a death. He shall feel that, had he kept faith with

we all would have been well; but now he shall hang--hang!--and I shall

look on and see his torments!"

The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance. · 第 27 / 92 章