The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 189: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER L. JOHANNA MAKES A NEW CONFIDANTE. We left the spectacle-maker and his family rather in a state of confusion. Big Ben the Beef-eater had had his revenge upon both Mrs. Oakley and the Saint, and it was a revenge that really did them no harm, so that in that respect it had turned out well. The Rev. Josiah Lupin did not return to the house, but Mrs. Oakley, in a terrible state of prostration from the effects of the sickness that had come over her, staggered again into the parlour. She looked at Mr. Oakley, as she said— “Tf you were half a man, you would take the life of that villain for treating me in the way he has; I have no doubt but he meant to take the life of the pious Mr. Lupin, and so add him to the list of martyrs.” “My dear,” said the spectacle-maker, “if Mr. Lupin intrudes himself into my house, and any friend of mine turns him out, I am very much obliged to him.” “Perhaps you would be equally obliged to this monster, whom you call your friend, if he would turn me out?” Mr. Oakley shook his head as he said— “My dear, there are some burthens® which can be got rid of, and some that must be borne.” “Come—come, Mother Oakley,” said Ben. “Don’t bear malice. You played me a trick the last time I came here, and now I have played you one. That’s all. It wasn’t in human nature not to do it, so don’t bear malice.” Mrs. Oakley, if she had been in a condition to do so, no doubt would have carried on the war with Big Ben, but she decidedly was not, and after a shudder or two, which looked as though she thought the toad was beginning again to oppress her, she rose to leave the room. “Mother,” said Johanna, “it was not a real toad.” “But you are!” said Mrs. Oakley, sharply. “You have no more feeling for your mother than as if she were a brickbat.” Feeling now that at all events she had had the last word at somebody, Mrs. Oakley made a precipitate retreat, and sought the consolations and solitude of her own chamber. Mr. Oakley was about to make some speech, which he prefaced with a sigh, when some one coming into the shop called his attention, and he left Johanna and Big Ben the Beef-eater together in the parlour. The moment they were alone, Ben began shaking his head and making some very mysterious signs, which completely mystified Johanna. Indeed she began to be afraid that Ben’s intellects were not quite right, although an ordinary observer might have very well supposed there was something the matter with his nether garments, for he pointed to them repeatedly; and shook his head at Johanna. “What is the matter, cousin?” she said. “Oh, dear!—oh, dear!—oh—oh—oh!” “Are you ill?” “No, but I only wonder as you ain’t. Didn’t I see you in Fleet Street with these here on?—oh!—oh!—not these here exactly, but another pair. These would be a trifle too large for you. Oh, dear-a-me! my heart bled all for to see such a young and delicate little puss ® as you a-taking to wear the thingamies so soon.” Johanna now began to understand what Ben meant, namely, that he had seen her in Fleet Street disguised in male attire, with her young friend Arabella Wilmot. “Oh, Ben,” she said, “you must not think ill of me on that account.” “But—but,” said Ben, rather hesitatingly, as if he were only putting a doubtful proposition, “wasn’t it rather unusual?” “Yes, Ben, but there were reasons why I put on such garments. Surely it was better to do so than—than—to—” “Than to go without any?” said Ben. “No—no, I did not say that—I mean it was better for me to forget a little of that maiden delicacy which—which—than to let him—” She burst into tears. “Hilloa!” cried Ben, as he immediately folded her in an immense embrace, that went very near to smothering her. “Don’t you cry, and you may wear what you like, and I’Il come and help you to put ’em on. Come, come, there’s a nice little dear, don’t you cry. Lord bless you! you know how fond I am of you, and always was since you was a little tottering thing, and couldn’t say my name right. Don’t you cry. You shall wear ’em as often as you like, and I’Il go behind you in the street, and if anybody only so much as says half a word to you, I’ll be down upon ’em. Fetch ’em now and put ’em on, my dear.” Johanna must have laughed if her life had depended upon her gravity, for all that Ben said upon the subject was uttered in the sheer simplicity of a kind heart, and well she knew that in his rough way he doated on her, and thought there was not such another being in the whole world as she. And yet he looked upon her as a child, and the imperceptible flight of time had made no difference in Ben’s ideas concerning Johanna. She was still to him the sweet little child he had so often dandled® upon his knee, and brought fruit and sweetmeats to, when such things were great treasures. After a few moments he let her go, and Johanna was able to draw breath again. “Ben,” she said, “I will tell you all.” “All what?” CORniclooo S CO)