Todd slowly undid the fastenings of the door, and an infernal feeling of
joy came over him at the idea of murdering this unhappy man likewise. It
quite reconciled him to the danger in which he was, for he could not but
know that the daylight was rapidly approaching, and that each moment
increased his peril. "Yes," he muttered, "he will make three this morning, three idiots who
fancy they are a match for me; but I will soon convince them of the
contrary, I will soon put him out of his pains and anxieties in this
world. Ha! he shall be an independent man, for he shall have no wants,
and that is true independence." Todd drew the last bolt back that held the door. "Come, Joe, are you coming?" said the man. "Soon enough, my dear friend, soon enough," said Todd. "You will find me
quite soon enough. Come in." Todd felt quite certain that if the man caught but the slightest glance
at him, it would be sufficient to convince him that it was not Joe, and,
therefore, he only now opened the door wide enough to let him slip into
the shop, and kept himself back partially behind it, so as to be, with
the exception of one arm, quite out of sight. The man hesitated. "Come in," said Todd. "Come in." "Why, what's the matter with you," said the man, "that makes you so
mighty mysterious, eh? What is it, old fellow?" "Oh, nothing. Come in." The man stepped one foot across the threshold, and put his head in at
the shop-door. "Come, now," he said. "None of your jokes, Joe. Where are you?" Todd felt that that was a critical moment, and that if he failed to take
advantage of it, the least thing would give the man the alarm, and he
might draw back from the door altogether, and so stop him from executing
that summary proceeding against him which he, Todd, thought essential to
his interests. "No, old fellow. There's no trick. Come in." "Oh, but I--"

The man was drawing back his head, and Todd saw that the moment for
action had come. Darting forward, he stretched out his right hand and
caught the man by the throat, saying as he did so, in the voice of a
demon--

"In, wretch--in, I say!" The man's cravat came away in the hand of Todd, who rolled upon his back
on the floor of the shop. The man finding himself free from the terrific
grip that had been laid upon him, fled along Fleet Street, crying--

"Help--help! thieves!--murder! Todd!--help! fire! murder--murder!" Todd lay upon his back with the cravat in his hand, and so utterly
confounded was he by this accident, that for a few moments he felt
disposed to lie there and give up all further contest with that fate
that never seemed weary of now persecuting him after the long course of
successful iniquity he had been permitted to carry on. He heard the loud cries of the man, and he knew that even at such an
early hour how those cries would soon rouse sufficient assistance to be
his destruction. He yet did not like to die without a struggle. Newgate,
with its lonely cells, came up before his mind's eye, and then he
pictured to himself the gibbet; and with a positive yell, partly of rage
and partly of fear, he rose to his feet. "What shall I do?" he said. "Dare I rush out now into Fleet Street, and
by taking the other direction to that in which this man has gone, try to
find safety?" A moment's thought convinced him of the great danger of that plan, and
he gave it up. There remained then nothing but the mode of retreat
through the church; and no longer hesitating, he took the light in his
hand and dashed open the little door that communicated with the narrow
stairs that would take him underneath the shop. Before descending them he paused to listen, and he heard the cries and
shouts of men afar off. He found that his foes were mustering in strong
force to attack him; and clenching his double fist, he swore the most
horrible oaths. This was a process that seemed to have some effect upon
the spirits of Todd. The swearing acted as a kind of safety valve to his
passion. He descended the staircase, and when he reached the foot of it he paused
again. The noise in the street was not so acute. It had sobered down to
a confused murmur, and he felt that his danger was upon the increase. Shading the light with one hand, for there was a current of air blowing
in the cellars and secret passages, he looked like some fiend or vampire
seeking for some victim among the dead. "They come," he said. "They come. They think they have me at last. They
come to drag me to death. Oh that I had but the power of heaping
destruction upon them all, of submitting them all to some wretched and
lingering death, I would do it! Curses on them--how I should revel in
their misery and pain." He went on a few paces past the dead bodies of the two men, and then he
paused again, for he could distinctly hear the trampling of feet upon
the pavement near to the house; and then, before he could utter a word,
there come such a thundering appeal to the knocker of the outer door,
that he dropped his candle, and it was immediately extinguished in the
start that he gave. It was quite evident that his foes were now in earnest, and they were
determined he should not escape them by any fault of theirs, for the
knocking was continued with a vehemence enough to beat in the door; but
so long as it did continue, it was a kind of signal that his enemies
were upon the outside. "I may escape them yet," he said, tremblingly. "Oh, yes, who shall take
upon them to say that I may not escape them yet? I can find my way in
the dark well--quite well. I am sufficiently familiar with this place to
do so." That was true enough; but yet, although Todd was, as he said,
sufficiently familiar with the place to find his way through it in the
dark, he could not make such good progress as when he had a lamp or a
candle to guide him. He heard a loud crash above. "They have broken open the door," he said, "but yet I am safe, for I
have a wonderful start of them. I am safe yet, and I am well armed, too. I hold the lives of several in my hands. They will not be so fond, from
their love of me, to throw away their lives. Ha! I shall beat them
yet--I shall beat them yet." With his hands outstretched before him, so that he should not run
against any obstacle, he took his way through the gloomy passages that
led to the vaults beneath St. Dunstan's church. The distance was not
great, but his danger was; and yet such was his insatiable desire to
know what was going on in his house, that he paused more than once again
to listen. From what he heard, he felt convinced that many persons had made their
way into the shop and parlour, and he anticipated a thorough search of
the house. "Let them," he said, "let them. There is nothing there now that it can
interest me to keep secret--absolutely nothing. Let them search well in
every room. It will give me the more time." He struggled on in the dark a little further, and then he suddenly
paused. A thought had struck him.