"Well," said Crotchet, "if so be as shaving should go out of fashion,
Todd could set up a clothier's shop, and not want for stock to begin
with." "I can imagine," muttered the magistrate to himself, "what a trouble and
anxiety all these things must be to Todd, and woollen goods are so
difficult to burn. Crotchet, select some of the swords, and look if
there are maker's names upon the blades." While Crotchet was preparing this order. Sir Richard was making a hasty
but sufficiently precise examination of the room. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE MYSTERIOUS CUPBOARD. "Here they are," said Crotchet. "Some of these are worth something." "Get a cane or two, likewise." "All's right, sir. I tell you what it is, sir. If there's such things as
ghosts in the world, I wonder how this Todd can sleep o' nights, for he
must have a plaguy lot of 'em about his bed of a night." "Perhaps he satisfied himself upon that head, Crotchet, before he began
his evil practices, for all we know; but let us make our way into
another room, for I think we have seen all there is to see in this one." "Not a doubt of it. It's only a kind of store-room, this, and from the
size of it, I should say it ain't the largest on this floor." Sir Richard walked out of the room on to the landing place. All was
perfectly still in the barber's house, and as he had heard nothing of
the bugle sound in Fleet-street, he felt quite satisfied that Todd had
not returned. It was a great thing, in all his daring exploits in
discovering criminals, and successfully ferreting out their haunts, that
he (Sir Richard) could thoroughly depend upon his subordinates. He knew
they were not only faithful but brave. He knew that, let what might
happen, they would never leave him in the lurch. Hence, in the present
instance, he felt quite at his ease in the house of Todd, so long as he
did not hear the sound of the bugle. Of course, personal danger he did
not consider, for he knew he was, if even he had been alone, more than a
match for Todd; but what he wanted was, not to overcome Sweeney Todd,
but to find out exactly what were his practices. He could, upon the
information he already had, have walked into Todd's shop at any time,
and have apprehended him, but that would not have answered. What he
wanted to do was to

    "Pluck out the heart of his mystery,"

and, in order to do that, it was not only necessary that Todd should be
at large, but that he should have no hint that such a person as he, Sir
Richard Blunt, had his eyes wide open to his actions and manoeuvres. Hence was it that, in this examination of the house, he wished to keep
himself so secret, and free from any observation. There were three rooms
upon the second floor of Todd's house, and the very next one they met
with, was the one immediately beneath the trap in the floor of the
attic. A glance at the ceiling enabled them easily to perceive it. This
room was larger than the other considerably, and in it were many boxes
and chests, as well as in the centre an immense old-fashioned
counting-house desk, with six immense flaps to it, three upon each side,
while a brass railing went along the middle. "Ah!" said Sir Richard, "here will be something worth the examining, I
hope." "Let's take the cupboards first," said Crotchet. "There are two here,
and as they are the first we have seen, let's look at 'em, Sir Richard. I never likes to be in a strange room long, without a peep in the
cupboard." "Very well, Crotchet. Look in that one to the left, while I look in this
one to the right." Sir Richard opened a cupboard door to the right of the fire-place in
this room, while Crotchet opened one to the left. "More clothes," said Sir Richard. "What's in yours, Crotchet?" "Nothing at all. Yet stay. There's a something high up here. I don't
know what it is, but I'll try and reach it if I can." Crotchet went completely into the cupboard, but he had no sooner done
so, than Sir Richard Blunt heard a strange crushing sound, and then all
was still. "Hilloa! What's that, Crotchet?" He hastily stepped to the cupboard. The door had swung close. It was
evidently hung upon its hinges in a manner to do so. With his disengaged
hand, the magistrate at once pulled it open. Crotchet was gone. The
astonishment of Sir Richard Blunt for a moment was excessive. There was
the flooring of the cupboard perfectly safe, but no Crotchet. Nothing to
his eyes had looked so like a magical disappearance as this, and with
the trap in his hand, he stood while any one might have counted twenty,
completely motionless and transfixed by astonishment. Starting then from
this lethargic condition, he drew a pistol from his pocket, and rushed
to the door of the room. At this instant, he heard the bugle sound
clearly and distinctly in the street. Before the echo of the sound had
died away, the magistrate was upon the landing-place outside the door of
the second floor. He listened intently, and heard some one below
coughing. It was not the cough of Crotchet. What was he to do? If he did
not make a signal to the officers in the street that all was safe, the
house would soon be stormed, and, for all he knew, that might ensure the
destruction of Crotchet, instead of saving him. For a moment, the
resolution to go down the staircase at all hazards and face Todd--for he
had no doubt but that he had come home--possessed him, but a moment's
reflection turned the scale of thought in another direction. If the
officers, not finding him make a signal that he was safe, did attack the
house, they would not do so for some minutes. It was their duty not to
be precipitate. He leant on the balustrade, and listened with an
intentness that was perfectly painful. He heard the cough again from
quite the lower part of the house, and then he became aware that some
one was slowly creeping up the stairs. He had placed the slide over the
bull's eye of his little lamp, so that all was darkness, but he heard
the breathing of the person who was coming up towards him. He shrunk
back close to the wall, determined to seize, and with an iron hand, any
one who should reach the landing. Suddenly, from quite the lower part of
the building, he heard the cough again. The thought, then, that it must
be Crotchet who was coming up, impressed itself upon him, but he would
not speak. In a few moments some one reached the landing, and stretching
out his right arm, Sir Richard caught whoever it was, and said in a
whisper--

"Any resistance will cost you your life." "Crotchet it is," said the new comer. "Ah, how glad I am it is you!" "Reether. Hush. The old 'un is below. Ain't I shook a bit. It's a
precious good thing as my bones is in the blessed habit o' holding on,
one of 'em to the rest and all the rest to one, or else I should have
tumbled to bits." "Hush! hush!" "Oh, he's a good way off. That 'ere cupboard has got a descending floor
with ropes and pullies, so down I went and was rolled out into a room
below and up went the bit of flooring again. I was very nearly startled
a little."