"I shall be back in a quarter of an hour." Away he went, preceding the porter by some half dozen steps only, but
yet ever and anon keeping a wary eye upon the two chests, which
contained cash, and jewels, sufficient to found a little kingdom. If he
got clear off with those two chests only, he felt that he would not give
himself much uneasiness about what was left behind. But was Todd going
to trust these two porters from out his own immediate neighbourhood,
with the secret of the destination of the boxes? No. He was by far too
crafty for that. After proceeding some distance, he took them round the
unfrequented side of St. Paul's Church yard, and stopping suddenly at
the door of a house that was to let, he said--

"This will do." "In here, master." "This will do. Put them down." The porters complied, and Todd set down upon one of the boxes, as he
said--

"How much?" "A shilling each of us, master." "There's double the money, and now be off, both of you, about your
business." The porters were rather surprised, but as they considered themselves
sufficiently paid, they made no objection, and walked off with
considerable alacrity, leaving Todd, and his treasure in the street. "Now for a coach," he muttered. "Now for a coach. Here boy"--to a ragged
boy who was creeping on at some short distance. "Earn a penny by
fetching me a coach directly." The boy darted off, and in a very few minutes brought Todd a hackney
coach. The boxes, too, were got upon it by the united efforts of Todd,
the coachman, and the boy, and then, and not till then did Todd give the
correct address of the wharf in Thames Street from which the Hamburg
ship was going, and in which he fully intended to embark that night. The
ship was advertised to sail at the turn of the tide, which would be
about four o'clock in the morning. All this did not take long to do. The
coach rumbled along Thames Street, but Todd was not aware that Mr.
Crotchet had got up behind the vehicle, but such was the fact, and when
the lumbering old machine stopped at the wharf, that gentleman got down,
and felt quite satisfied with the discovery he had made. "He's a trying
of it on," soliloquised Mr. Crotchet in the bolting line, "but it ain't
no manner of a go. He'll swing, and he can't help it, if he were to book
himself to the moon, and there was a coach or a ship as went all the
way, and no stoppages." "_Mem_," said Todd to himself. "To go to Colonel Jeffery's and murder
Tobias--Ha!" "Lor!" said the coachman, "was that you, sir?" "What do you mean?" "Why as made that horrid sort of noise." "Mind your business, my friend, and tell me if you can take me quickly
to Islington, for I have no time to lose." "Like the wind, sir, you can go with these here _osses_," replied the
coachman, "did you ever see sich bits o' blood, sir, one on 'ems blind,
and' t'other on 'em is deaf, which is advantages as you don't get in one
pair." "Advantages?" "Lor bless you, yes, sir. The blind 'un goes unknown quick, cos you
sees, sir, he thinks he's only in some dark place, and in course he
wants to get out on it as soon as he can." "Indeed?" "Yes, sir, and the deaf 'un, he goes quick too, cos as he hears nothink,
he thinks as there never was sich a quiet place as he's go's, and he
does it out o' feeling and gratitude, sir, yer sees." "Be quick then, and charge your own price." Todd sprang into the vehicle, and stimulated by the idea of charging his
own price, the coachman certainly did make the bits of blood do wonders,
and in quite an incredibly short space of time, Todd found himself in
the immediate neighbourhood of the Colonel's house. It was now getting
dark, but that was what he wished. He dismissed the coach, and took from
the angle of a wall, near at hand, a long and earnest look at the
Colonel's house, and as he did so dark and hideous thoughts concerning
Tobias passed through his mind. CHAPTER LXXXII. TODD VISITS THE COLONEL


"Well, Tobias," said Colonel Jeffery, as he entered the pretty, cheerful
room into which the now convalescent boy had been removed. "Well,
Tobias, how are you now?" "Much better, sir. Oh, sir,--I--I--"

"What would you say?" "I feel that when I see you, sir, I ought to say so much to convince you
of how truly, and deeply grateful I am to you, and yet I can scarcely
ever say a word about it. I pray for your happiness, sir, indeed I do. Your name and my mother's, and--and Minna Gray's, are always uttered to
God by me." "Now, Tobias," said Colonel Jeffery gravely. "I am quite satisfied that
as regards all that has passed, you feel as you ought to feel, and for
my own part, I beg you to feel and to know that your saying anything
about it only distresses me." "Distresses you, sir?" "Yes, it does, indeed. I see your eyes are upon the door. You expect
Minna, to day, I am sure." "Yes, sir,--she--she--my mother was to bring her, sir." A ringing at a bell now came upon Tobias's ear, and his colour went and
came fitfully. "You are still very weak, my poor boy," said the colonel, "but you are
certainly much improved. Do you feel any confusion in your head now?" "None at all, only when I think of Todd suddenly, ever it makes me feel
cold and sick, and something seems to rush through my heart." "Oh, that will go away. That is nothing. There, I will draw up the blind
for you. The evening is coming, and the sky is overclouded. You can see
better now, and there is one coming whom I know you wish to lose no
sight of." "I hear her foot upon the stairs," said Tobias. "Do you?--It is more than I do." "Ah, sir, the senses are sharpened, I think, by illness." "Not so much as by love. Tobias! do you hear her footstep now?" "Yes, and it is like music." He had his head on one side in an attitude of listening; and then with
joy sparkling from every feature of his face, he spoke again--

"She comes--she comes. Ah, she comes fast. My own--my beautiful. She
come--she comes." "This is real love," said the colonel, and he stepped from the room. Nearly on the landing at the head of the stairs, he met Minna Gray. "Welcome," he said as he held out his hand to her. "You will find your
young friend up and much better." Minna could only look her thanks. Mrs. Ragg was following her, and as
the ascent of stairs was always rather a task to that good Lady, she was
making a noise like a stranded grampus in breathing. "Ah, colonel," she said, "young legs get up stairs faster than old ones,
sir, as you see. Well--well, there was a time when first I knew poor
dear Ragg, who is of course dead and gone, quite premature." "Exactly, Mrs. Ragg," said the colonel, as he rapidly descended the
stairs. "Did you ever, my dear, know such a strange man?" said Mrs. Ragg to
Minna. "Who?" "The colonel, to be sure. So soon as I begin to tell him any little what
do you call it. No it ain't _nannygoat_--that's ridiculous. It's--it's--what is it?" "Anecdote do you mean, Mrs. Ragg?" "Yes, to be sure.