The moment he was gone Johanna eagerly opened the letter that had been
brought to her, and found it to contain the following words:--

    "MY DEAR JOHANNA,--This is a selfish letter; for as I cannot see
    you, I think I should go mad if I did not write to you; so I do so
    for the ease of my own heart and brain. For the love of Heaven, and
    for the love of all you hold dear in this world, get away from Todd
    as quickly as you can; and when I see you again, I shall have
    something to say to you which will give you more pleasure than ever,
    with my bad advice, I have given you pain. "Sir Richard Blunt has kindly promised to give this to you, and you
    know that I am--Your ever affectionate

    ARABELLA." "Yes," said Johanna, when she had finished the epistle. "In truth I know
you are ever my affectionate Arabella, and I am most happy in such a
friend. But this must not meet Todd's eye. Ah! that footstep, I know it
too well. He comes--he comes." She had just hidden the letter, when Sweeney Todd made his appearance. "Anybody been?" he asked. "Yes, one man, but he would not wait." "Ah, wanted to be shaved, I suppose; but no matter--no matter; and I
hope you have been quiet, and not been attempting to indulge your
curiosity in any way, since I have been gone. Hush! here's somebody
coming. Why, it's old Mr. Wrankley, the tobacconist, I declare. Good-day
to you, sir--shaved, I suppose? I'm glad you have come, sir, for I have
been out till this moment. Hot water, Charley, directly, and hand me
that razor." Johanna, in handing Todd the razor, knocked the edge of it against the
chair, and it being uncommonly sharp, cut a great slice of the wood off
one of the arms of it. "What shameful carelessness," said Todd; "I have half a mind to lay the
strop over your back, sir; here you have spoilt a capital razor--not a
bit of edge left upon it." "Oh, excuse him, Mr. Todd--excuse him," said the old gentleman; "he's
only a little lad, after all. Let me intercede for him." "Very good, sir; if you wish me to look over it, of course I will; and,
thank God, we have a stock of razors, of course, always at hand. Is
there any news stirring, sir?" "Nothing that I know of, Mr. Todd, except it's the illness of Mr.
Cummings, the overseer. They say he got home about twelve to his own
house, in Chancery-lane, and ever since then he has been as sick as a
dog, and all they can get him to say is, 'Oh, those pies--oh, those
pies!'" "Very odd, sir." "Very. I think Mr. Cummings must be touched in the upper story, do you
know, Mr. Todd. He's a very respectable man, but, between you and I, was
never over bright." "Certainly not, sir--certainly not. But it's a very odd case. What pies
can he possibly mean, sir? Did you call when you came from home?" "No. Ha, ha! I can't help laughing; but, ha, ha! I have come away from
home on the sly, you see. The fact is, my wife's cousin--hilloa!--I
think you have cut me." "No, no--we can't cut anybody for three-halfpence, sir. I think I will
just give you another lather, sir, before I polish you off. And so you
have the pearls with you; well, how odd things come round, to be sure." "What do you mean?" "This shaving-brush is just in a good state now. Always as a
shaving-brush is on the point of wearing out, it's the best. Charley,
you will go at once to Mr. Cummings, and ask if he is any better; you
need not hurry, that's a good lad. I am not at all angry with you now. And so, sir, they think at home that you have gone after some business
over the water, do they, and have not the least idea that you have come
to be shaved? There, be off, Charley--shut the door, that's a good lad,
bless you." *       *       *       *       *

When Johanna came back, the tobacconist was gone. "Well," said Sweeney Todd, as he sharpened a razor very leisurely, "how
is Mr. Cummings?" "I found out his house, sir, with some difficulty, and they say he is
better having gone to sleep." "Oh, very good! I am going to look over some accounts in the parlour, so
don't choose to be disturbed, you understand; and for the next ten
minutes, if anybody comes, you will say I am out." Sweeney Todd walked quite coolly into the parlour, and Johanna heard him
lock the door on the inside; a strange, undefined sensation of terror
crept over her, she knew not why, and she shuddered, as she looked
around her. The cupboard door was not close shut, and she knew not what
prompted her to approach and peep in. On the first shelf was the hat of
the tobacconist: it was rather a remarkable one, and recognised in a
moment. "What has happened? Good God! what can have happened?" thought Johanna,
as she staggered back, until she reached the shaving-chair, into which
she cast herself for support. Her eyes fell upon the arm which she had
taken such a shaving off with the razor, but all was perfectly whole and
correct; there was not the least mark of the cut that so recently had
been given to it; and lost in wonder, Johanna, for more than a minute,
continued looking for the mark of the injury she knew could not have
been, by any possibility, effaced. And yet she found it not, although there was the chair, just as usual,
with its wide spreading arms and its worn, tarnished paint and gilding. No wonder that Johanna rubbed her eyes, and asked herself if she were
really awake? What could account for such a phenomenon? The chair was a fixture too,
and the others in the shop were of a widely different make and
construction, so it could not have been changed. "Alas! alas!" mourned Johanna, "my mind is full of horrible surmises,
and yet I can form no rational conjecture. I suspect everything, and
know nothing. What can I do? What ought I to do, to relieve myself from
this state of horrible suspense? Am I really in a place where, by some
frightful ingenuity, murder has become bold and familiar, or can it be
all a delusion?" She covered her face with her hands for a time, and when she uncovered
them, she saw that Sweeney Todd was staring at her with looks of
suspicion from the inner room. The necessity of instantly acting her part came over Johanna, and she
gave a loud scream. "What the devil is all this about?" said Todd, advancing with a sinister
expression. "What's the meaning of it? I suspect--"

"Yes, sir," said Johanna, "and so do I; I must to-morrow have it out." "Have what out?" "My tooth, sir--it's been aching for some hours; did you ever have the
toothache? If you did, you can feel for me, and not wonder that I lean
my head upon my hands and groan." Todd looked about half satisfied at this excuse of Johanna's, and for a
few moments as he looked at her, she thought that after all she should
have to call upon her friends in the cupboard to save her from the
danger that his eyes, in their flashing ghastliness, threatened. Another
moment, and her lips would have parted with the shrill cry of "Murder!"