"What is to hinder me, in some principality of Germany,
from purchasing a title which shall smother all remembrance of what I
now am, and as the Baron Something, I shall commence a new life, for I
am not old; no--no, I am not old--far from old, although late anxieties
have made me look so. I am not so nervous and fearful of slight things
as I was, although my imagination has played me some tricks of late." Some slight noise, that sounded as if in the house, although it was in
all probability in the next one, came upon his ears, and with a howl of
terror he shrunk down by the side of the box he had been packing. [Illustration: Todd Alarmed At Strange Sounds Whilst Packing His
Plunder.] "Help! mercy! What is that?" The noise was not repeated, but for the space of about ten minutes or
so, Todd was perfectly incapable of moving except a violent attack of
trembling, which kept every limb in motion, and terribly distorted his
countenance, if it might be called so. "What--what was it?" he at length gasped. "I thought I heard something,
nay, I am sure I heard something--a slight noise, but yet slight noises
are to me awfully suggestive of something that may follow. Am I really
getting superstitious now?" He slowly rose and looked fearfully round him. All was still. True, he
had heard a voice, but that was all. No consequences had resulted from
it, and the fit of trembling that had seized him was passing away. He
went to the cupboard where he kept that strong stimulant that had so
much excited the admiration of Peter. He did not go through the ceremony
of procuring a glass, but placing the neck of the bottle to his throat,
he took a draught of the contents which would have been amply sufficient
to confound the faculties of any ordinary person. Upon Todd, however, it
had only a sort of sedative effect, and he gradually recovered his
former diabolical coolness. "It was nothing," he said. "It was nothing. My fears and my imaginations
are beginning now to play the fool with me. If there were none others,
such would be sufficient warnings to me to be off and away." He continued the packing of the box which had been temporarily
suspended, but ever and anon he would pause, and lifting up one of his
huge hands, placed it at his ear to listen more acutely, and when
nothing in the shape of alarm reached him he would say with a tone of
greater calmness and contentment--

"All is still--all is still. I shall be off and away soon--off and
away!" The dusky twilight had crept on while Todd was thus engaged, and he was
thinking of going out, when he heard the creaking noise of his shop door
opening. As he was but in the parlour, he made his way to the shop at
once, and saw a young man, who spoke with an affected lisp, as he said--

"Mr. Todd, can you give my locks a little twirl? I'm going to a party
to-night, and want to look fascinating." "Allow me," said Todd, as he rapidly passed him and bolted the door. "I
am annoyed by a drunken man, so, while I am dressing your hair, I wish
to shut him out, or else I might scorch you with the tongs." "Oh, certainly. If there's anything, do you know, Mr. Todd, that I
really dislike more than another, it's a drunken man." "There's only one thing in society," said Todd, "can come near it.--Sit
here, sir." "What's that?" "Why, a drunken woman, sir." "Werry good--Werry good." Some one made an effort to enter the shop, but the bolt which Todd had
shot into its place effectually resisted anything short of violence
sufficient to break the door completely down. "Mr. Todd--Mr. Todd," cried a voice. "In a moment, sir," said Todd. "In a moment." He darted into the parlour. There was a loud bang in the shop as though
something had fallen, and then a half-stifled shriek. Todd reappeared. The shaving chair in which the young man had been sitting was empty. Todd took up his hat, and threw it into the parlour. He then unbolted
the door, and admitted a man who glanced around him, and then, without a
word, backed out again, looking rather pale. Todd did not hear him
mutter to himself, as he reached the street--

"Sir Richard will be frantic at this. I must post off to him at once,
and let him know that it was none of our faults. What an awkward affair
to be sure." CHAPTER LXV. A MOONLIGHT VISIT TO ST. DUNSTAN'S VAULTS. For the remainder of that day Todd was scarcely visible, so we will
leave him to his occupation, which was that of packing up valuables,
while we take a peep at a very solemn hour indeed at old St. Dunstan's
Church. The two figures on the outside of the ancient edifice had struck
with their clubs the sonorous metal, and the hour of two had been
proclaimed to such of the inhabitants of the vicinity who had the
misfortune to be awake to hear it. The watchman at the gate of the
Temple woke up and said "past six," while another watchman, who was
snugly ensconced in a box at the corner of Chancery Lane, answered that
it was "four o'clock and a rainy morning." Now it was neither four
o'clock nor a rainy morning--for the sky, although by no means entirely
destitute of clouds, was of that speckled clearness which allows the
little stars to pass out at all sorts of odd crevices, like young
beauties through the jalousies of some Spanish Castle. The moon, too,
had, considering all things, a pretty good time of it, for the clouds
were not dense enough to hide her face, and when behind them, she only
looked like some young bride, with the faint covering of bashful blonde
before her radiant countenance. And at times, too, she would peep out at
some break in that veil with such a blaze of silvery beauty as was
dazzling to behold, and quite stopped the few passengers who were in the
streets at that lone hour. "Look," said one of four gentlemen, who were walking towards Temple Bar
from the Strand. "Look! Is not that lovely?" "Yes," said another. "A million fires are out in London now, and one can
see the blue sky as it was seen when--"

"Wild in the woods the painted savage ran." "But, after all," said another, "I prefer good broad cloth to red ochre. What say you, Sir Richard?" "I am of your lordship's opinion," said Sir Richard Blunt, who was one
of the party of four: "I certainly think we have gained something by not
being Ancient Britons any longer than was absolutely necessary. This is,
in truth, a most splendid night." "It is--it is," they all said. By this time, strolling along in an independent sort of fashion, they
had reached Temple Bar, and then Sir Richard, bowing to the one who had
not yet made any sort of remark, said--

"Mr. Villimay, you have not forgotten the keys?" "Oh no, Sir Richard; oh no." "Then, gentlemen, we are very near our place of destination. It will be
advisable that we look about us, and use the utmost precaution, to be
sure that we are not watched by any one." "Yes--yes," said the other. "You will be the best judge of that Sir
Richard; with your tact, you will be able to come to a conclusion upon
that subject much better than we can."