What can have become of
that man whom we saw go into the barber's shop; but who, I suppose, we
feel ourselves to be in a condition to take our oaths never came out?" "I could take my oath; and what conclusion can we come to?" "None, but that he met his death there; and that, let his fate be what
it may, it is the same which poor Thornhill has suffered. I can endure
this no longer. Do you stay here, and let me go alone." "Not for worlds--you would rush into an unknown danger; you cannot know
what may be the powers of mischief that man possesses. You shall not go
alone, colonel, you shall not indeed; but something must be done." "Agreed; and yet that something surely need not be of the desperate
character you meditate." "Desperate emergencies require desperate remedies; and yet I think that
in this case everything is to be lost by precipitation, and nothing is
to be gained. We have to do with one who, to all appearance, is keen and
subtle, and if anything is to be accomplished contrary to his wishes, it
is not to be done by that open career, which for its own sake, under
ordinary circumstances, both you and I would gladly embrace." "Well, well," said the colonel, "I do not and will not say but you are
right." "I know I am--I am certain I am; and now hear me: I think we have gone
quite far enough unaided in this transaction, and that it is time we
drew some others into the plot." "I do not understand what you mean." "I will soon explain. I mean, that if in the pursuit of this enterprise,
which grows each moment to my mind more serious, anything should happen
to you and me, it is absolutely frightful to think that there would then
be an end of it." "True, true; and as for poor Johanna and her friend Arabella, what could
they do?" "Nothing, but expose themselves to great danger. Come, now, colonel, I
am glad to see that we understand each other better about this business;
you have heard, of course, of Sir Richard Blunt?" "Sir Richard Blunt--Blunt--oh, you mean the magistrate?" "I do; and what I propose is that we have a private and confidential
interview with him about the matter--that we make him possessed of all
the circumstances, and take his advice what to do. The result of placing
the affair in such hands will, at all events, be that if, in anything we
may attempt, we may by force or fraud be overpowered, we shall not fall
wholly unavenged." "Reason backs your proposition." "I knew it would, when you came to reflect. Oh, Colonel Jeffery, you are
too much a creature of impulse." "Well," said the colonel, half jestingly, "I must say that I do not
think the accusation comes well from you, for I have certainly seen you
do some rather impulsive things, I think." "We won't dispute about that; but since you think with me upon the
matter, you will have no objection to accompany me at once to Sir
Richard Blunt's?" "None in the least; on the contrary, if anything is to be done at all,
for Heaven's sake let it be done quickly. I am quite convinced that some
fearful tragedy is in progress, and that, if we are not most prompt in
our measures, we shall be too late to counteract its dire influence upon
the fortunes of those in whom we have become deeply interested." "Agreed, agreed! Come this way, and let us now for a brief space, at all
events, leave Mr. Todd and his shop to take care of each other, while we
take an effectual means of circumventing him. Why do you linger?" "I do linger. Some mysterious influence seems to chain me to the spot." "Some mysterious fiddlestick! Why, you are getting superstitious,
colonel." "No, no! Well, I suppose I must come with you. Lead the way, lead the
way; and believe me that it requires all my reason to induce me to give
up a hope of making some important discovery by going to Sweeney Todd's
shop." "Yes, you might make an important discovery; and only suppose now that
the discovery you did make was that he murdered some of his customers. If he does so, you may depend that such a man takes good care to do the
deed effectually, and you might make the discovery just a little too
late. You understand that?" "I do, I do. Come along, for I positively declare, that if we see
anybody else go into the barber's, I shall not be able to resist rushing
forward at once, and giving an alarm." It was certainly a good thing that the colonel's friend was not quite so
enthusiastic as he was, or from what we happen actually to know of
Sweeney Todd, and from what we suspect, the greatest amount of danger
might have befallen Jeffery, and instead of being in a position to help
others in unravelling the mysteries connected with Sweeney Todd's
establishment, he might himself have been past all help, and most
absolutely one of the mysteries. But such was not to be. CHAPTER XXV. TOBIAS MAKES AN ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE FROM THE MADHOUSE. We cannot find it in our hearts to force upon the mind of the reader the
terrible condition of poor Tobias. No one, certainly, of all the
_dramatis personæ_ of our tale, is suffering so much as he; and,
consequently, we feel it to be a sort of duty to come to a consideration
of his thoughts and feelings as he lay in that dismal cell, in the
madhouse at Peckham Rye. Certainly Tobias Ragg was as sane as any
ordinary Christian need wish to be, when the scoundrel, Sweeney Todd,
put him into the coach to take him to Mr. Fogg's establishment; but if
by any ingenious process the human intellect can be toppled from its
throne, certainly that process must consist in putting a sane person
into a lunatic asylum. To the imagination of a boy, too, and that boy
one of vivid imagination, as was poor Tobias, a madhouse must be
invested with a world of terrors. That enlarged experience which enables
persons of more advanced age to shake off much of the unreal, which
seemed so strangely to take up its abode in the mind of the young
Tobias, had not reached him; and no wonder, therefore, that to him his
present situation was one of acute and horrible misery and suffering. *       *       *       *       *

He lay for a long time in the gloomy dungeon-like cell into which he had
been thrust, in a kind of stupor, which might or might not be the actual
precursor of insanity, although, certainly, the chances were all in
favour of being so. For many hours he neither moved hand nor foot, and
as it was a part of the policy of Mr. Fogg to leave well alone, as he
said, he never interfered, by any intrusive offers of refreshment, with
the quiet or the repose of his patients. Tobias, therefore, if he had
chosen to remain as still as an Indian fakir, might have died in one
position, without any remonstrances from any one. It would be quite an
impossibility to describe the strange visionary thoughts and scenes that
passed through the mind of Tobias during this period.