Luckily for Todd, no one looked up, nor
in any way noticed the pulpit. "Lor, sir, yes," said the beadle. "Here I is, and if I don't make a
great mistake, sir, you is Sir Richard Blunt." "I am." "Lor bless you, sir, that's the way with me. If I sees a _indiwidal_
once, and knows 'em, I knows 'em again." "It's a capital faculty, Mr. Beadle. But my friend, Mr. Crotchet, here,
will just go down with you through the vaults to make sure that the fire
in Todd's house has in no way connected with this. We don't want to burn
down the church." "Burn down the church, sir? Oh, conwulsions! Me go down into the vaults
with this gentleman? Bless you, sir, I should only _obstructify_ him in
the discharge of his duty. I couldn't think of doing it, I assure you,
sir. He can go by himself, you see, and then he will have the advantage
of nobody to contradict him." "I'd rather go without him, Sir Richard," said Crotchet, who was the
gentleman. "He's only a idiot!" The beadle marched up to Crotchet, until he got within about two inches
of that gentleman's nose, and then slowly shaking his head to and fro,
he said--

"Did you call me a _hidiot_?" "Yes, I did." "You did? Now, young man, mind what you say, because if you call me a
hidiot, I shall be bound to do--"

"What?" "Nothing at all. I see you are rather a low fellow, so I shall treat you
with the same contempt as I did the very common person that pulled my
nose last week--Silent contempt! That's how I serve people. I despise
you, accordingly." "Werry good," said Crotchet. "That's by far the safestest way, old
feller. So now I'll go down into the vaults." "No news of Todd yet, Sir Richard?" said one of the gentlemen, walking
up to the magistrate. "Oh, Sir Christopher Wren, I beg your pardon," said the magistrate. "I
did not see you at the moment. I am sorry to say that although we have
some news of Todd, we have not yet been able to catch him. But we must
have him, England is not so very large a place after all, and I don't
think he has any means of getting away from it." "The sooner the rascal expiates his crimes upon the scaffold the better. I never before heard of a criminal in whose whole career there was
nothing found that could excite the faintest feeling of compassion." "He is a desperate bad fellow, indeed," said Sir Richard Blunt, "but I
hope that he will not long trouble society. I have determined to give up
all other pursuits until I take him, and I have a _carte blanche_ from
the Secretary of State to go to any expense, and to do what I please, in
the way of capturing him." Todd's heart sunk within him at these words. Had they come from any one
else, he would not have heeded them much but from him they were of
fearful import. "Oh, that I could kill that man," he muttered, "then I should know some
peace; but while he lives and while I live, we are like two planets in
one orbit, and cannot long exist together." "I wish you every success," said Sir Christopher Wren. "I am obliged to you, Sir Christopher. The fact is, that Todd left his
house pretty full of combustibles, and my men were unwise enough,
contrary to my positive orders, to let them be there; and I am afraid
that he may have contrived some mode of blowing up the church by a train
or some other equally diabolical means, as he had such free and
unrestrained access to it for so long." "What!" cried the beadle. "What did you say, Sir Richard?" "I merely said that I was apprehensive Todd might have concocted some
means of blowing up the church, that is all." "And me in it! And me in it! Conwulsions!" The beadle did not pause for another moment, but rushing to the door, he
flew out of the church as if a barrel of gunpowder had been rolling
after him, nor did he stop until he got right through Temple-bar and
some distance down the Strand. "I am afraid I have frightened away our friend, the beadle," said Sir
Richard Blunt. "And I don't wonder at it," replied Sir Christopher Wren. "I should not
like exactly to be blown up along with the fragments of old St.
Dunstan's Church myself, so I will go." "Ah, I am sorry I mentioned it." "Are you though? I am very much obliged to you for so doing. Excuse me,
Sir Richard, for bidding you good-morning rather abruptly, if you
please." Sir Richard Blunt laughed as he bade Sir Christopher and his friend
good-morning--by-the-by, the friend had already made his way outside the
church-door, and was waiting for Sir Christopher in no small degree of
trepidation. "For God's sake," he said, "come along at once, or we may all be blown
up together." "Well," said Sir Richard Blunt, as he paced up the aisle of the old
church, "I would risk a little scorching, if at the end of it I could
only lay my hand upon the shoulder of Sweeney Todd. What on earth can
have become of the rascal? But I must be patient--yes, patience will do
it, for that we shall come face to face again, I feel to be as
established a fact for the future, as that of my own existence now." "Oh," thought Todd, "if I now only dared to shoot him! If I only dared
do it! And I would if it were not for the other one in the vaults--that
wretch they call Crotchet. And yet I have a pistol here. If I thought
that after shooting him through the head or through the heart, I could
by one bold rush get out of this church, what a glorious piece of work
it would be! This Sir Richard Blunt is the only man that I dread. Were
he no more, I should feel completely at peace. I could shoot him now." Todd took a pistol from his pocket and presented it through the little
crevice of the very slightly open door of the pulpit. The door would
open a little in spite of him. "Yes, oh, yes, I could shoot him now; but the report of the pistol would
perhaps bring that other villain they call Crotchet from the vaults, and
then who shall say what would happen? And yet I have another pistol, and
could shoot him too. Oh, how glorious, if I could take the lives of both
these men! It would indeed be a good work." The magistrate paced to and fro waiting for Crotchet, and little
suspecting that Todd was so near to him, and with a pistol aimed at him! If he had only guessed as much, he would have freely risked the shot,
and would soon have been in the pulpit along with Todd. But it was not
to be. Sir Richard Blunt had not any supernatural power by which he
could tell of the proximity of Todd from no evidence of that fact at
all. "Yes," said Todd suddenly, "I will shoot him. I will risk all and shoot
him now. If I die for it, I shall have, at least, had a great and
glorious revenge! I will shoot him now, when he turns and walks up the
aisle again." Todd felt calm and pleased now that he had actually made up his mind to
shoot Sir Richard. He projected the barrel of the pistol about an inch
or so through the crevice caused by the spring of the door, and he
calmly waited for the opportunity of sending its deadly contents into
the heart of the magistrate.