"Remember how surrounded you are by your best friends,
and remember, likewise, that, after all, Todd is but a man, and by this
time he must be but a poor, weak, dispirited one, and much more intent
upon devising means for his own safety, than in carrying out his
revenges." "If, indeed, he lives," said the colonel. "Just so," said Ingestrie. "My opinion will very much incline to the
idea that he is dead, if Sir Richard Blunt does not very shortly get
some news of him." "That will be a pity," said Tobias, "unless it can be proved past all
dispute, for while it continues only a likely thing, the dread of him
will still cling to my heart, and I shall never be happy." "Nay, Tobias," said the colonel, "you must pluck up a spirit. The
probability is now, that Sweeney Todd, let him be where he may, is much
more afraid of meeting you than you can possibly be of meeting him." "I wish I thought so," said Tobias. "But only look now how sweetly the
sun is peeping out on the water after the storm there. This is very
beautiful." Tobias walked to the window; and his praise of the beauty of the morning
caused the breakfast-table to be, in a very few minutes, completely
deserted. To be sure, the praise that the imaginative boy had lavished
upon the young day, was by no means misapplied; for a more lovely day
than that which broke over Brighton, after that terrific gale in the
Channel, could not be conceived. It seemed as if the good genii of
earth, sea, and sky, were striving to banish from the minds of all the
inhabitants of that place the recollections of the frightful storm that
had made the world dismal and terrific. "Indeed, it is lovely," said Johanna, "Who, now, to look at that placid
sheet of water, with scarce a ripple upon its surface to reflect the
sunbeams, would think that only a few hours ago, it presented a scene of
such fury that it was a shuddering terror to look upon it?" "And yet," said Ingestrie, "it is these varieties that make the great
world beautiful." "Not a doubt of it; but they require more stern minds than mine, Mark,
to stand them." The party now, finding that the day was so delightful, sallied out to
the beach to make some inquiry among the sailors and boatmen, concerning
the damage that the gale had done. The moment Mark Ingestrie appeared
with his friends, he was recognised as the person who had performed the
gallant exploit of going through the surf to the rescue of the
shipwrecked man, and he became immediately the observed of all
observers. This sort of homage was at once flattering and embarrassing to Johanna. She felt proud that it was her husband who was entitled to so much
popular consideration and respect, and yet, with her natural timidity of
disposition, she shrank from sharing it with him. Some eager inquiries were made of Ingestrie now, regarding the man he
had saved, and it was a great gratification to him to be enabled to
state that he was doing well, although he had not himself seen him since
he grappled with him in the water, and brought him to the beach. A few fragments only of the wreck had been washed to the shore, but
nothing that could in any way enable them to identify the vessel; so
that that was a species of information that must come from the man who
had been saved, whenever he should be able to go through the fatigue of
an interview with his friend and his deliverer. After an hour's stroll upon the beach, the party, at a slow pace,
returned to the house they had hired during their stay at Brighton. The
moment they got to the door, the colonel's servant appeared with his
horse, which he had ordered to be ready for him at twelve o'clock. "Just walk him up and down," said the colonel, to the man; "I shall be
ready in a few minutes. Hilloa! my friend, Hector, are you here?" The dog was with the horse, and the man said, touching his hat--

"We were half a mind, sir, to let Hector loose last night during the
storm, for he is a famous fellow in the water; but knowing how much you
valued him, we were afraid to do so." "I am glad you didn't," said the colonel. "You were quite right to keep
him shut up. I would not have him come to any mischief for any money." The colonel entered the house, and when he and all his friends had got
into the drawing-room, they sent for a servant to inquire how the poor
wrecked man was getting on; and after a little time, one of the
domestics of the house came to say that he was up and sitting, dressed,
in the front kitchen, and would be happy to see, and to thank those who
had saved him from death in the raging sea. "Shall we have him up here?" said the colonel. "Yes, if you please," said Ingestrie; "and, I daresay, a glass of wine
won't hurt him, while he tells us the name of his ship, poor fellow, and
who and what he is." "Certainly not," said Mr. Oakley. "I will get out the decanter." "Allow me, my dear," said Mrs. Oakley. "You know you always break every
glass that you interfere with." "Oh, stuff!" "But I say, Mr. Oakley, that you do." "Easy does it," said Ben, in his deepest bass voice. "Easy does it, I
say--Easy!" "How cold I am," said Tobias. "Cold, Tobias!" said Ingestrie. "My good fellow, we will have a fire if
you are cold." "Oh, no--no. Not on my account, Mr. Ingestrie, I shall be better soon;
but I feel as if something were going to happen. My heart beats so
fearfully, and at the same time, I shake as if--as if--I know not what." "Give him a glass of wine," said Ingestrie to Johanna. Tobias took the glass of wine, and it evidently did him some good; but
yet he looked ill and uneasy. Orders were given that the shipwrecked man
should be shown up to the drawing-room, for they were all curious to
know to what ship he had belonged, and how many had fallen victims to
the frightful gale that had made the vessel such a complete wreck. "He is coming, poor fellow," said the colonel. "I hear his footsteps on
the stairs. He comes slowly. No doubt he is weak yet." "Poor fellow!" sighed Johanna. "Have the wine ready to give him at once,
mother. It will put some heart into him. What must be his feelings
towards you, Mark?" "Come now," said Ingestrie; "don't plague him, any of you, about his
being saved by me, and all that sort of thing. Just say nothing about
it. Sailors are no great orators, at the best of times, and if he begins
to make a speech about his gratitude, you may depend he will never get
to the end of it." "Yes; but he ought to know," said Mrs. Oakley, "who he owes his life to,
under providence." "Hem!" said Ben. He never liked to hear Mrs. Oakley begin to use
religious phrases, as they had a tendency to remind him of the late Mr.
Lupin. The door of the drawing-room opened, and all eyes were eagerly bent in
that direction. A servant came in, and said--

"The poor man is here, if you please. Is he to come in, now? He seems
rather timid." "Oh, yes," said Ingestrie, "let him come in, by all manner of means,
poor fellow. He and I made acquaintance in the sea, and we ought to be
good friends, now."