you know how
fond I am of you, and always was since you was a little tottering thing,
and couldn't say my name right. Don't you cry. You shall wear 'em as
often as you like, and I'll go behind you in the street, and if anybody
only so much as says half a word to you, I'll be down upon 'em. Fetch
'em now and put 'em on, my dear." Johanna must have laughed if her life had depended upon her gravity, for
all that Ben said upon the subject was uttered in the sheer simplicity
of a kind heart, and well she knew that in his rough way he doated on
her, and thought there was not such another being in the whole world as
she. And yet he looked upon her as a child, and the imperceptible flight
of time had made no difference in Ben's ideas concerning Johanna. She
was still to him the sweet little child he had so often dandled upon his
knee, and brought fruit and sweetmeats to, when such things were great
treasures. After a few moments he let her go, and Johanna was able to
draw breath again. "Ben," she said, "I will tell you all." "All what?" "How I came to put on--the--the--"

"Oh, these here--very good. Cut on, and let's know all the particulars. I suppose you felt cold, my dear, eh?" "No--no." "No? Well then, tell it quick, for I was always a mortal bad hand at
guessing. Your father is fitting an old gentleman with a pair of
spectacles, and he seems hard to please, so we shall have lots of time. Go on." "Your good opinion is of such moment to me," said Johanna, "for I have
very few to love me; now that you have seen me in such a disguise, I
should feel unhappy if I did not tell why I wore it." Ben lent the most attentive ear to what she said, and then Johanna
briefly and distinctly told him all the story of Mark Ingestrie, and how
he had, as she thought, mysteriously disappeared at the barber's shop in
Fleet-street. It will be seen that she still clung to the idea that the
Thornhill of the arrived ship was no other than her lover. Ben heard her
all out with the most fixed attention. His mouth and eyes gradually
opened wider and wider as she proceeded, partly from wonder at the whole
affair, and partly from intense admiration at the way in which she told
it, which he thought was better than any book he had ever read. When she
had concluded, Ben again folded her in his arms, and she had to struggle
terribly to get away. "My dear child," he said, "you are a prodigy. Why, there's not an animal
as ever I knew comes near you; and so the poor fellow had his throat cut
in the barber's for his string of pearls?" "I fear he was murdered." "Not a doubt of it." "You really think so, Ben?" The tone of agony with which this question was put to him, and the look
of utter desolation which accompanied it, alarmed Ben, and he hastily
said--

"Come, come, I didn't mean that. No doubt something has happened; but it
will be all right some day or another, you may depend. Oh, dear!--oh,
dear! The idea of your going to watch the barber with some boy's clothes
on!" "Tell me what I can do, for my heart and brain are nearly distracted by
my sufferings?" Ben looked all round the room, and then up at the ceiling, as though he
had a hope and expectation of finding some startling suggestion written
legibly before his eyes somewhere. At length he spoke, saying--

"I tell you what, Johanna, my dear, whatever you do, don't you put on
them things again. You leave it all to me." "But what will you do?--what can you do, Ben?" "Well, I don't know exactly; but I'll let you know when it's done." "But do not run into any danger for my sake." "Danger? danger? I should like to see the barber that would interfere
with me. No, my dear, no; I'm too well used to all sorts of animals for
that. I'll see what I can do, and let you know all about it to-morrow,
and in the meantime, you stick to the petticoats, and don't be putting
on those thingamies again. You leave it to me--will you now?" "Until to-morrow?" "Yes, I'll be here to-morrow about this time, my dear, and I hope I
shall have some news for you. Well, I declare, it's just like a book, it
is. You are quite a prodigy." Ben would have treated Johanna to another of the suffocating embraces,
but she contrived to elude him; and, as by this time the old gentleman
in the shop was suited with a pair of spectacles, Mr. Oakley returned to
the parlour. Johanna placed her finger upon her lips as an indication to
Ben that he was to say nothing to her father of what had passed between
them, for, although Mr. Oakley knew generally the story of his
daughter's attachment to Mark Ingestrie, as the reader is aware, he knew
nothing of the expedition to Fleet-street in disguise. Ben, feeling that
he had now an important secret to keep, shut his mouth hard, for fear it
should escape, and looked so mysterious, that any one more sharp-sighted
than the old spectacle-maker must have guessed that something very
unusual was the matter. Mr. Oakley, however, had no suspicions; but as
this state of things was very irksome to Ben, he soon rose to take his
leave. "I shall look in again to-morrow," he said, "Cousin Oakley." "We shall be glad to see you," said Mr. Oakley. "Yes," added Johanna, who felt it incumbent upon her to say something,
"we shall be very glad to see you indeed." "Ah," said her father, "you and Ben were always great friends." "And we always shall be," said Ben. Then he thought that he would add
something wonderfully clever, so as completely to ward off all
suspicions of Oakley's, if he had any, and he added--"She ain't like
some young creatures that think nothing of putting on what they
shouldn't. Oh dear, no--not she. Bye, bye. I'll come to-morrow." Ben was quite pleased when he got out of the house, for among the things
that he (Ben) found it difficult to do, was to keep a secret. "Well," he said, when he was fairly in the open air, "if I ain't rather
nonplussed at all this. What shall I do?" This was a question much easier asked than answered, as Ben found; but,
however, he felt an irresistible desire to go and have a look at the
shop of Sweeney Todd. "I can easily," he said, "go to Fleet-street, and then, if I find myself
late, I can take a boat at Blackfriars for the Tower-stairs, and after
all get in to dinner comfortably enough." With this conclusion, Ben set off at a good pace down Snow-hill, and was
soon at the beginning of Fleet-street. He walked on until he came to
Sweeney Todd's shop, and there he paused. Now we have previously
remarked that there was one great peculiarity in the shop-window of
Todd, and that was that the articles in it were so well arranged that
some one always was in the way of obtaining any view from the outside
into the establishment. Todd was therefore secure against the dangers
arising from peeping and prying. Big Ben placed himself close to the
window, and made an attempt, by flattening his nose against the panes of
glass, to peep in; but it was all in vain. He could not obtain the
smallest glimpse into the inside.