The real
murderer has yet to be discovered; and therefore it is that I call upon
you, in the sacred name of justice, to acquit my client." With this the counsel sat down, and Todd looked positively hopeful. He
drew a long breath or two, and ventured a keen glance towards the
jury-box. "Do you call any witnesses," asked the junior counsel, "for the
prosecution?" "No--no--no. Witnesses! Innocence is its own best safeguard." "I waive my right of reply, my lord," said the Attorney-General. Upon this, nothing remained for the judge to do but to sum up the
evidence; and after arranging his notes, he proceeded to do so, in that
clear and lucid style, for which some of our judges are so famous. "The prisoner at the bar, Sweeney Todd, stands charged with the wilful
murder of Francis Thornhill. It appears that Francis Thornhill left a
certain ship for the purpose of proceeding to a Miss Oakley in the City
of London, with a String of Pearls, which had been confided to him to
deliver to that lady by a Mr. Mark Ingestrie. "We have it in evidence, that Francis Thornhill on his route down or
along the northern side of Fleet Street, went into the shaving shop,
kept by the prisoner at the bar, and from that instant he is not again
seen alive. The prisoner at the bar takes a String of Pearls, similar to
those which were in the possession of Francis Thornhill, and raises upon
them a considerable sum of money of a man named John Mundell. It appears
then, that the hat of Mr. Francis Thornhill is taken from the premises
of the prisoner by a dog; and it further appears, upon the clear
testimony of respectable persons, that beneath the prisoner's shop is a
contrivance by which people might be killed; and there or thereabouts
contiguous to that contrivance, a certain bone is found, which is proved
to be the thigh-bone of Francis Thornhill. "Gentlemen of the jury, the sequence of evidence by which it is
attempted to bring this crime home to the prisoner at the bar, lies in a
very small compass indeed. Firstly, there is the tracing of Francis
Thornhill to the prisoner's shop, and his disappearance from thence. Then there is the hat found there or taken from there, and then there is
the thigh-bone sworn to be that of Francis Thornhill, and certainly
found in such contiguity to his premises, as to warrant a belief that he
placed it there. "Gentlemen of the jury, the case is in your hands." This was a very short summing up, but the bar quite understood it to
mean that the guilt of the prisoner was so clear and transparent, that
it was not at all necessary for the judge to go elaborately through the
evidence, but merely as a matter of form, leave the facts in evidence to
the jury. And now came that awful moment to Todd, when the question of guilty or
not guilty hovered on the lips of those twelve men, who were to decide
upon his fate. The jury laid their heads together for a few moments
only, and then they turned round and faced the court again. The clerk of the arraigns rose, and spoke--

"Gentleman of the jury. How say you? Do you find the prisoner at the bar
guilty or not guilty of the crime laid to his charge in the indictment?" "Guilty!" said the foreman. A cheer burst from the auditors, and the judge raised his hand, saying--

"Officers, repress this unmanly exultation that a fellow-creature is
found guilty of a dreadful crime. I beg that any person so offending may
be brought before me at once." The officer could not or would not find anybody so offending, but the
judge's words had the effect of calming the tumult at all events, and
then all eyes were turned upon Sweeney Todd, who stood in the dock
glaring at the foreman of the jury, as though he had only imperfectly
heard what he had said, or if he had perfectly heard him, doubting the
evidence of his own senses, as regarded the real, full, and true meaning
of the dreadful word "guilty!" CHAPTER CXXXI. TODD MAKES AN ATTEMPT UPON HIS OWN LIFE. In the course of a few minutes the tumult in the court was effectually
suppressed, and then as it was known that the judge would sentence Todd
at once, all eyes were turned upon the criminal, to note the effect
which that awful moment was likely to have upon him. The judge spoke. "Sweeney Todd, you have been by an impartial and patient jury, convicted
upon the clearest evidence of the murder of Francis Thornhill. Have you
anything to say why sentence of death, according to the law, should not
be passed forthwith upon you?" Todd did not seem to understand the question, and the Governor of
Newgate repeated it to him. He started then, and glared at the judge, as
in a deep hollow voice, he said--

"Death! death!--Did you say death?" "Such says the law--not I. If you have anything to say why that sentence
should not be pronounced against you, now is your only time in which to
say it." Todd passed his hand twice across his brow before he spoke, and then, in
a vehement voice, he said--

"It is false--all false. I did not kill the man. There is a vile
conspiracy against me. I say I did not do it. Who saw me--what eye was
upon me? I was at chapel--at prayers, when you say among you that I did
it. It is a plot--nothing but a plot from first to last. You would make
me the victim of it among you. Who saw me kill him? I know nothing of
hidden places in the old house. It is not true, I say. A plot--a vile
plot for my destruction." "Have you finished?" said the judge. "Have I not said enough? I know nothing of it. I am a poor man, and
strive to get a living as best I might, and among you now you bring a
bone from some churchyard to kill me with. You swear anything--I know
you all well. If the man you say I killed be really dead, I here at this
moment summon his spirit from another world, to come and bear witness
for me that I did not kill him!" These last words Todd yelled out in such a tone of frantic passion, that
everybody looked aghast; and more than once, more than commonly
superstitious spectators thought that the appeal to the beings of a
supernatural world might yet be answered in some way. There was a death-like stillness in the court for some few moments, and
then the Governor of Newgate in a whisper, said to Todd--

"Have you finished?" "Finished what?" he cried, in a startling tone. "Finished
what?--Finished pleading for my life? Yes, I have, for I know that they
have made up their minds to murder me. I have no witnesses--they are all
in the grave now. That woman, Lovett, who is dead, you tell me--I cannot
say if she be dead or not, she is hard to kill--that woman could
exculpate me; but, as I say, my witnesses are in the grave, and there is
no truth in spirits visiting this world again, or she and the man you
say I murdered would appear here, and yell in your ears, all of you,
that I did not do it." The judge sat quite patiently. He was evidently resolved to hear quietly
what Todd chose to say. It could but occupy a little more time; and as
his fate was fixed, it did not matter.