"Be seated, I pray you." "Yes--yes. In a moment. Oh, how calm and unimpassioned you are, sir." "It would not do for us both to lose our judgment." Arabella began to feel a little piqued, and that feeling restored her
powers to her, probably quicker than any other could have possibly done. She spoke rapidly, but distinctly. "Sir, Miss Johanna Oakley has gone to Sweeney Todd's to find out what
has become of Mr. Mark Ingestrie, and I advised her to do so; but now
the knowledge that I did so advise her has driven me nearly mad. It will
drive me quite mad!" Sir Richard rose from the arm chair into which he had thrown himself,
and said--

"'Miss Oakley?' said you? Why--why--what folly. But she has gone home
again." "No, she is disguised as a boy, and has taken the situation that Todd
put a placard in his window about, and she will be found out of course,
and murdered." "No doubt of it." "Oh, God! Oh, God! Is there no lightning to strike me dead?" "I hope not," said Sir Richard Blunt; "I don't want a thunder storm in
my parlour." "But, sir--"

"But, Miss Wilmot. Is she there now?" "She is--she is." "When did she go?" "About two hours since. Oh, sir--you must do something--you shall do
something to save her, or I will run into the streets, and call upon any
passenger I meet, that has the form of a man, to aid me; I will raise
the town, sir, but I will save her." "That course would be about as wise as the original advice to Miss
Oakley to go upon the expedition at all. Now answer me calmly what I
shall ask of you." "I will--I will." "What is the prime cause of action that Miss Oakley projects as the
result of this disguised entrance into Todd's shop, provided he be
deceived by it?" "To search the place upon the first opportunity for some relic of Mark
Ingestrie, and so put an end to the torturing suspense regarding his
fate." Sir Richard Blunt shook his head. "Do you think that Sweeney Todd would leave such relics within such easy
acquisition and inspection? Is he the sort of man, think you, to expose
himself to such danger? Oh, Miss Wilmot, this is indeed a hair-brained
scheme." "It is--it is, and I have come to you for aid, and--"

"Hush! Is the secret of this expedition entirely confined to you and to
Miss Oakley?" "It is--it is." "Will her friends not miss her?" "No--no. All has been arranged with what now I cannot help calling a
horrible ingenuity. She is like one led to slaughter, and she will pass
away from the world, leaving the secret of her disappearance to you and
to me only. Sir, I am young, and there are those in this great city who
love me, but if Johanna be not saved, I will no longer live to be the
most wretched of beings. If there can be found a poison that will let me
leave the world, to cast myself at the feet of God, and of Johanna in
another, I will take it." Sir Richard looked at his watch. "An hour and a half, you say?" "More than that. Let me think. It was twelve--yes, it was twelve. More
you see, sir, than that. Tell me, sir. Tell me at once what can be done. Speak--oh speak to me. What will you do?" "I don't know, Miss Wilmot." With a deep sigh Arabella fainted. *       *       *       *       *

It was seldom indeed that, even amid his adventurous life, the
magistrate found a circumstance that affected him so strongly as that
which Arabella Wilmot had related to him. For a short time, even he,
with all his powers of rapid thought, and with all the means and
appliances which natural skill and practice had given him to meet any
emergency, could not think of any mode of escape from the peculiarly
awkward position into which this frightfully imprudent step of Johanna
had plunged him. "My good girl," he said. "Oh, she has fainted." He rung a hand-bell, and, when a man appeared in answer to the summons,
he said--

"Is Mrs. Long within?" "Yes, Sir Richard." "Then bring her here, and tell her to pay every attention to this young
lady, who is a friend of mine; and when she recovers, say to her that I
shall return in an hour." "Certainly, Sir Richard." In a few moments a matronly-looking woman, who acted in that house as a
sort of general manager, made her appearance, and had Arabella removed
to a chamber. Before that, the magistrate had hastily put on his hat,
and at a quick pace was walking towards Fleet Street. What he intended
to do in the emergency--for emergency he evidently thought it was--we
shall see quickly. Certain it is that, even by that time, he had made up
his mind to some plan of proceeding, and our readers have sufficient
knowledge of him to feel that it is likely to be the very best that
could be adopted under the circumstances. Certainly Johanna had, by the
bold step she had taken, brought affairs to something like a crisis,
much earlier than he, Sir Richard Blunt, expected. What the result will
be remains to be seen. CHAPTER LXX. RETURNS TO JOHANNA. We left Johanna in rather an awkward situation. The two graziers were in
Todd's shop, and she--at the pronunciation of the word "pearl," which
had too forcibly at the moment reminded her of the String of Pearls,
which no doubt had been fatal to Mark Ingestrie--had dropped the
soap-dish, and covered her face with her hands. "What is this?" cried Todd. "What, sir?" "What is that, I say? What do you mean by that, you stupid hound? If I
only--"

He advanced in a threatening attitude with a razor in his hand; but
Johanna quickly saw what a fault she had committed, and felt that, if
she were to hope to do any good by her visit to Todd's shop, she must
leave all such manifestations of feelings outside the threshold. "I have broken it," she said. "To be sure you have; but--"

"And then, you see, sir, I was overcome at the moment by the thought
that as this was my first day here, how stupid you would think me." "Stupid, indeed." "Poor little chap," said one of the graziers. "Let him off this once,
Mr. Barber--he seems a delicate little lad." Todd smiled. Yes, Todd admirably got up a smile, or a something that
looked like a smile. It was a contortion of feature which did duty for a
piece of amiability upon his face; and, in a voice that he no doubt
fully intended should be dulcet and delightful, he spoke--

"I'm quite a fool to my feelings and to my good nature," he said. "Lord
bless you, gentlemen, I could not hurt a fly--not I. I used at school to
be called Affectionate Todd." "In joke?" said one of the graziers. "No, gentlemen, no; in earnest." "You don't say so! Well, my boy, you see no harm will come to you, as
your master forgives you about the soap-dish, and we are in no sort of
hurry." "Well," said Todd, as he bustled about for another article in which to
mix the lather. "Well, do you know, sir, I'm so glad to hear that you
are in no hurry." "Indeed?" "Yes, sir; because, if you are strangers in London both of you, it will
give you an opportunity of seeing some of the curiosities, which will do
for you to talk of when you get home, you know." "Why, that would take too much time." "Not at all, sir.