The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 166: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

expression upon his face, which was quite amusing to behold. “Really, Mr. Otton,” he said, “don’t you think, after all, it would be better to leave this affair alone till the mormming? We can easily tell my wife, you know, that Mr. Todd won’t let us into his attic. That must satisfy her, for what can she say to it?” “Sir,” said the beadle, “when you call in the constabullary force, you must do just what they say, or leastways you acts contrary to Habus Corpuses. Come on. Conwulsions! is we to be brought over the street, and then is we to do nothing to go down to prosperity?” The beadle uttered these words with such an air of pomposity and importance that the shoemaker, who had a vague idea that Habus Corpus was some fearful engine of the law at the command of all its administrators, no longer offered any opposition, but, as meekly as any lamb, followed Mr. Otton into Sweeney Todd’s shop. The door yielded to a touch, and Mr. Otton presented his full rubicund® countenance to the gaze of Sweeney Todd, who was at the further end of the shop, as though he had just come from the parlour at the back of it, or was just going there. He did not at first see the shoemaker, who was rather obscured by the portly person of the beadle, and Todd’s first idea was the most natural one in the world, namely, that the beadle came upon an emergency to be shaved. Giving him an hideous leer, Todd said— “A fine night for a clean shave.” “Werry. In course, Mr. T., you is the best judge o’ that ’ere, but I does for myself.” As he spoke, Mr. Otton rubbed his chin, to intimate that it was to his shaving himself that he alluded just then. “Hair cut?” said Todd, giving a snap to the blades of a large pair of scissors, that made Mr. Otton jump again, and nearly induced the shoemaker to run out of the shop into the street. “No,” said the beadle; and taking off his hat, he felt his hair, as though to satisfy himself that it was all there, just as usual. “No.” Todd looked as though he would have shaved him with extreme pleasure, and advancing a few steps, he added—“Then what is it that you bring your unwieldy carcase here for, you gross lump of stupidity? Ha! ha! ha!” “What? Conwulsions!” “Pho!—Pho! Can’t you take a joke, Mr. Otton? I know you well enough. It’s my funny way to call people, whom I admire very much, all the hard names I can think of.” “Ts it?” “Oh, dear, yes. I thought you and all my neighbours knew that well enough. I am one of the drollest dogs alive. That I am. Won’t you sit down?” “Well. Mr. Todd, a joke may be a joke.” The beadle looked very sententious at this discovery. “But you have the oddest way of poking your fun at any one that ever I heard of; but, I comes to you now as a respectable parishioner, to—” “Oh,” said Todd, putting his hands, very deliberately into his pockets, “how much?” “Tt ain’t anything to pay. It’s a mere trifle. I just want to go up to your front attic, and—” “What?” “Your front attic, and get out of the window to look into the front attic next door. We won’t trouble you if you will oblige us with a candle. That’s all.” Todd advanced two steps further towards the beadle and looked peeringly in his face. All the suspicious qualities of his nature rose up in alarm. Every feeling of terror regarding the instability of his position, and the danger by which he was surrounded, rushed upon him. At once he conjectured that danger was approaching him, and that in this covert manner the beadle was intent upon getting into the house, for the purpose of searching it to his detriment. As the footpad sees in each bush an officer, so, in the most trivial circumstances, even the acute intellect of Sweeney Todd saw dangers, and rumours of dangers, which no one but himself could have had the remotest idea of. He glared upon the beadle with positive ferocity, and so much affected was Otton by that lynx-like observation of Sweeney Todd’s, that he stepped aside and disclosed that he was not alone. If anything could have confirmed Todd in his suspicions that there was a dead-set at him, it was finding that the beadle was not alone. And yet the shoemaker was well known to him. But what will lull such suspicion as Sweeney Todd had in his mind? Once engendered, it was like the jealousy that “Makes the meat it feeds on!” He advanced, step by step, glaring upon the beadle and upon the shoemaker. Reaching up his hand, he suddenly turned the lamp that hung from the ceiling clear round, so that, in lieu of its principal light falling upon him, it fell upon the faces of those who had paid him so unceremonious a visit. “Lawks!” said the beadle. “Excuse us, Mr. Todd,” said the shoemaker, “I assure you we only meant—” “What?” thundered Todd. Then suddenly softening his voice, he added— “You are very welcome here indeed. Pray what do you want?” “Why, sir,” said Otton, “you must know that this gentleman has a lodger.” “A what?” “A lodger, sir, and so you see that’s just the case. You understand that this lodger—lor’, Mr. Todd, this is your neighbour the shoemaker, you know. The front attic, you know, and all that sort of thing. After this explanation, I hope you’ll lend us a candle at once, Mr. Todd, and let us up to the attic.” CORniclooo S CO)