I will ask him how he spoke,
and how he looked; and get him, if he can, to describe to me even the
very tones of his voice; and then I shall be sure, without the shadow of
a doubt, that it is Mark. But then, oh! then comes the anxious question,
of what has been his fate?" When poor Johanna began to consider the multitude of things that might
have happened to her lover during his progress from Sweeney Todd's, in
Fleet-street, to her father's house, she became quite lost in a perfect
maze of conjecture, and then her thoughts always painfully reverted back
to the barber's shop where the dog had been stationed; and she trembled
to reflect for a moment upon the frightful danger to which that string
of pearls might have subjected him. "Alas! alas!" she cried, "I can well conceive that the man whom I saw
attempting to poison the dog would be capable of any enormity. I saw his
face but for a moment, and yet it was one never again to be forgotten. It was a face in which might be read cruelty and evil passions; besides,
the man who would put an unoffending animal to a cruel death, shows an
absence of feeling, and a baseness of mind, which make him capable of
any crime he thinks he can commit with impunity. What can I do--oh! what
can I do to unravel this mystery?" No one could have been more tenderly and gently brought up than Johanna
Oakley, but yet, inhabitive of her heart, was a spirit and a
determination which few indeed could have given her credit for, by
merely looking on the gentle and affectionate countenance which she
ordinarily presented. But it is no new phenomenon in the history of the
human heart to find that some of the most gentle and loveliest of human
creatures are capable of the highest efforts of perversion; and when
Johanna Oakley told herself, which she did, she was determined to devote
her existence to a discovery of the mystery that enveloped the fate of
Mark Ingestrie, she likewise made up her mind that the most likely man
for accomplishing that object should not be rejected by her on the score
of danger, and she at once set to work considering what those means
should be. This seemed an endless task, but still she thought that if,
by any means whatever, she could get admittance to the barber's house,
she might be able to come to some conclusion as to whether or not it was
there where Thornhill, whom she believed to be Ingestrie, had been
stayed in his progress. "Aid me Heaven," she cried, "in the adoption of some means of action on
the occasion. Is there any one with whom I dare advise? Alas! I fear
not, for the only person in whom I have put my whole heart is my father,
and his affection for me would prompt him at once to interpose every
possible obstacle to my proceeding, for fear danger should come of it. To be sure, there is Arabella Wilmot, my old school fellow and bosom
friend, she would advise me to the best of her ability, but I much fear
she is too romantic and full of odd, strange actions, that she has taken
from books, to be a good adviser; and yet what can I do? I must speak to
some one, if it be but in case any accident happening to me, my father
may get news of it, and I know of no one else whom I can trust but
Arabella." After some little more consideration, Johanna made up her mind that on
the following morning she would go to the house of her old school
friend, which was in the immediate vicinity, and hold a conversation
with her. "I shall hear something," she said, "at least of a kindly and a
consoling character; for what Arabella may want in calm and steady
judgment, she fully compensates for in actual feeling, and what is most
of all, I know I can trust her word implicitly, and that my secret will
remain as safely locked in her breast as if it were in my own." It was something to come to a conclusion to ask advice, and she felt
that some portion of her anxiety was lifted from her mind by the mere
fact that she had made so firm a mental resolution, that neither danger
nor difficulty should deter her from seeking to know the fate of her
lover. She retired to rest now with a greater hope, and while she is
courting repose, notwithstanding the chance of the discovered images
that fancy may present to her in her slumbers, we will take a glance at
the parlour below, and see how far Mrs. Oakley is conveying out the
pacific intention she had so tacitly expressed, and how the supper is
going forward, which, with not the best grace in the world, she is
preparing for her husband, who for the first time in his life had begun
to assert his rights, and for big Ben, the beef-eater, whom she as
cordially disliked as it was possible for any woman to detest any man. Mrs. Oakley by no means preserved her taciturn demeanour, for after a
little she spoke, saying--

"There's nothing tasty in the house; suppose I run over the way to
Waggarge's, and get some of those Epping sausages with the peculiar
flavour." "Ah, do," said Mr. Oakley, "they are beautiful, Ben, I can assure you." "Well, I don't know," said Ben the beef-eater, "sausages are all very
well in their way, but you need such a plaguey lot of them; for if you
only eat them one at a time, how soon will you get through a dozen or
two." "A dozen or two," said Mrs. Oakley; "why, there are only five to a
pound." "Then," said Ben, making a mental calculation, "then, I think, ma'am,
that you ought not to get more than nine pounds of them, and that will
be a matter of forty-five mouthfuls for us." "Get nine pounds of them," said Mr. Oakley, "if they be wanted; I know
Ben has an appetite." "Indeed," said Ben, "but I have fell off lately, and don't take to my
wittals as I used; you can order, missus, if you please, a gallon of
half-and-half as you go along. One must have a drain of drink of some
sort; and mind you don't be going to any expense on my account, and
getting anything but the little snack I have mentioned, for ten to one I
shall take supper when I get to the Tower; only human nature is weak,
you know, missus, and requires something to be a continually a holding
of it up." "Certainly," said Mr. Oakley, "certainly, have what you like, Ben; just
say the word before Mrs. Oakley goes out; is there anything else?" "No, no," said Ben, "oh dear no, nothing to speak of; but if you should
pass a shop where they sells fat bacon, about four or five pounds, cut
into rashers, you'll find, missus, will help down the blessed sausages." "Gracious Providence," said Mrs. Oakley, "who is to cook it?" "Who is to cook it, ma'am? why the kitchen fire, I suppose; but mind ye
if the man aint got any sausages, there's a shop where they sells biled
beef at the corner, and I shall be quite satisfied if you brings in
about ten or twelve pounds of that. You can make it up into about half a
dozen sandwiches." "Go, my dear, go at once," said Mr. Oakley, "and get Ben his supper. I
am quite sure he wants it, and be as quick as you can."