When he was gone, Colonel Jeffery had a long talk with his
friend, and the subject gradually turned to Johanna, whom the colonel
yet hoped, he said, to be able one day to call his own. "No one," he remarked, "would be more truly rejoiced than I to restore
Mark Ingestrie to her whom he loves, and whose affection for him is of
so enduring and remarkable a character, but if, as Sir Richard Blunt
supposes, he is really no more, I think Johanna, by being mine, would
stand a better chance of recovering her serenity, if not of enjoying all
the happiness in this world that she deserves." "Hope for the best," said the captain, "and recollect what the surgeon
said as regarded Tobias, that time works wonders." CHAPTER XXXVII. THE SEARCH AT TODD'S. The house in Fleet Street, next door to Todd's, was kept by a shoemaker,
named Whittle, and in this shoemaker's window was a bill, only put up on
the very day of poor Tobias's escape from Peckham, announcing--"An Attic
to Let." This was rather an alluring announcement to Sir Richard Blunt. At about half an hour after sunset on the same evening that had
witnessed the utter discomfiture of the attempt to restore poor Tobias
Ragg to his senses, two men stood in the deep recess of a doorway
immediately opposite to the house of Sweeney Todd. These two men were
none other than Sir Richard and his esteemed but rather eccentric
officer, Mr. Crotchet. After some few moments' silence, Sir Richard
spoke, saying--

"Well, Crotchet--what do you think of the affair now?" "Nothink." "Nothing? You do not mean that, Crotchet?" "Says what I means--means what I says, and then leaves it alone." "But you have some opinion, Crotchet?" "Had, master--had--"

"Well, Crotchet; I think we can now cross over the way, and endeavour to
get possession of the shoemaker's attic, from which we can get into
Todd's house." "And find nothink criminatory." "You think not; but do you know, Crotchet, I am of opinion that the
greatest and cleverest rogues not unfrequently leave themselves open to
detection, in some little particular, which they have most strangely and
unaccountably neglected. I am not without a hope that we shall find the
man, Sweeney Todd, to be one of that class, and if so, we shall not fail
to do some good by our visit to the house.--You remain here and watch
for his going out, and when he is gone, come over the way and ask for
Mr. Smith. Have you seen Fletcher?" "No, but he will be here presently, and will wait till that 'ere fellow
goes away, if so be as he goes out, and then when you and me hears two
notes on the key-bugle, it will be time all for us to go for to come to
mizzle." "Very good," said Sir Richard Blunt, and he crossed over to the
shoemaker's shop, leaving Crotchet on the watch in the deep doorway. The fact is, they had been waiting there for some time, in the hope that
Todd would go out, but he had not stirred, so that the magistrate
thought it would be as well to let Crotchet remain while he secured the
shoemaker's attic, with a view to ulterior proceedings. The magistrate
was dressed as a respectable, staid clerk, and he walked into the
shoemaker's shop with a gravity of gait that was quite imposing. "You have an attic to let," he said. "Is it furnished?" "Oh yes, sir, and comfortably too. My missus looks after all that, I can
tell you." "Very well, I want just such a place; for, do you know, since I have
left a widower, I like to live in some lively situation, and as all my
friends are at Cambridge, and not a soul that I know in London, I don't
half fancy going into an out-of-the-way place to live; though, I dare
say, for all that, London is safe enough." "Why, I don't know that," said the shoemaker. "However, you'll be safe
enough here, sir, never doubt. The rent is four shillings a week." "Very good. I think, if you will show it to me, we shall suit each
other. The great object with me is to find myself in the house of a
respectable man, and one look at you, sir, is quite sufficient to show
me that you are one." This was all highly flattering to the shoemaker, and he was so well
pleased to get such a respectable, civil-spoken, middle aged gentleman
into his house, that he was prepared, upon half a word to that effect,
to come down a whole sixpence a week in the rent, if needs were. Of
course, the would-be-lodger was well enough pleased with the attic, and
turning to the shoemaker, he handed him four shillings, saying--

"As my friends are all so far off, I ought to give you a week's rent in
advance, instead of a reference, and there it is." After this, who could ask any further questions? The magistrate, just,
of his own accord, added that his name was Smith, and that he would stay
a short time in his room if the shoemaker could oblige him with a light,
which was done accordingly, and when the shoemaker's wife came
home--that lady having been out to gossip with no less a personage than
Mrs. Lovett--he was quite elated to tell her what a lodger they had, and
as he handed her the four shillings, saying "My dear, that will buy you
the ribbon at Mrs. Keating's, the mercer, that you had set your mind
upon," how could she be other than quite amiable? "Well, John," she said, "for once in a way, I must say that you have
shown great judgment, and if I had been at home myself, I could not have
managed better." This, we are quite sure, our lady readers will agree with us was as much
as any married female ought to say. Sir Richard Blunt ascended to the
attic, of which he was now, by virtue of a weekly tenancy, lord and
master, with a light, and closing the door, he cast his eyes around the
apartment. Its appointments were decidedly not luxurious. In one corner
a stump-bedstead awakened anything but lively associations, while the
miserable little grate, the front of which was decidedly composed of
some portions of an old iron hoop from a barrel, did not look redolent
of comforts. The rest of the apartments were what the auctioneers call
_en suite_, the said auctioneers having but a dreamy notion of what _en
suite_ means. But the appointments or disappointments of his attic were
of little consequence to Sir Richard Blunt. It was the window that
offered attractions to him. Softly opening it, he looked out, and found
that there was a leaden gutter, with only the average amount of filth in
it, the drain being, of course, stopped up by a dishclout and a cracked
flower-pot, which is perfectly according to custom in London. He saw
enough at a glance, however, to convince him that there would be no
difficulty whatever in getting to the attic of Todd's house, and that
fact once ascertained, he waited with exemplary and placid patience the
return of Crotchet. Now, Sweeney Todd was, during much of that day, in
what is denominated a brown study. He could not make up his mind in what
way he was to make up for the loss of the senses of Tobias. It was with
him an equal choice of disagreeables.