Mrs. Cummins burst into tears at the idea
of what Todd was going to do for the children, for the whole of the
parish was impressed with the idea that he was well to do. "They are
very good children Mr. Todd; and although a charge to me, are still a
blessing; for now that John is gone, they seem to hold me to the world,
sir." "Well, Mrs. Cummins, I am glad you have applied to me, for if you had
not, I certainly should not have known the names of your children. As it
is, however, whenever I pray, I will think of them, and of you; and in
the meantime, I commend you to the care of that Providence which, of
course, cannot permit the widow and the fatherless to want anything in
this world, or the next either." Todd walked leisurely on. "Ha! ha!" he laughed. "Good again. What have I to do with charity, or
charity with me? I am at war with all the world, and at war with Heaven,
too, if there be one, which I will not admit! No, no--I will not admit
that." *       *       *       *       *

While Todd was away upon this errand of getting rid of Mrs. Lovett,
which we have seen he has accomplished so much to his satisfaction,
Johanna was not entirely without visitors. The excellent watch that was
kept upon the movements of Todd, in their minutest particular, by Sir
Richard Blunt and his officers, let them know perfectly well that Todd
was from home; but it was not from them that Johanna had her first visit
after Todd was gone. He had not left the shop above ten minutes when Johanna heard a
mysterious noise outside the door of it. It sounded as if someone were
scraping it with something. At first she felt a little uneasy at the
sound, but as it increased she calmed herself, and resolved upon
ascertaining what it was. Turning to the door, cautiously she opened it a little way. That was
quite sufficient to dispel any fears that she might have, for the paw of
a dog was immediately thrust through the opening; and when upon this
Johanna opened the door freely, Hector, with a loud bark, dashed into
the shop. So fierce was the dog's demeanour, that Johanna shrank aside, but master
Hector saw with half an eye that he had frightened her, so he went up to
her, and licked her hand in token of amity, after which he barked loudly
at the shop, as though he would have said, "Mind though I am friends
with you, I am still the uncompromising foe of all else in this place." "Alas poor dog," said Johanna as the tears rushed to her eyes, "you will
never see your master again." The young girl's grief for the loss of her lover seemed all to be roused
up freshly from the depths of her heart at this appearance of the dog,
which she had some reason to believe had been the companion of Mark
Ingestrie. She sat down upon the little stool by the fire, and covering
face with her hands, she wept bitterly. In the meantime, Hector, finding that Todd was not there to do battle
with him, made up his mind for a grand rummage in the shop; and truly he
conducted it with a perseverance and a recklessness of consequences that
was wonderful. He was on the counter that ran along under the window--he
was under it--he was on every shelf, and he tore open every cupboard;
but alas! poor Hector could find no token of his lost master. At length
the howling and the scratching that he made induced Johanna to look up
to see what he wanted. She was rather appalled at the confusion he had
created, and she could not think what he wanted until she found that
there was a shelf at the top of the cupboard, that was equally out of
her reach as it was out of his. "I cannot help you, my poor friend," she said. "There seems to be
nothing on that shelf." Hector, however, having retired to a remote corner of the shop, and got
on a chair in order that he might get a good look at the shelf, was of a
different opinion; and, finding that he was not to calculate upon any
help from Johanna, he made various springs up to the shelf with his
mouth open, until at last he caught hold of a little bit of tape that
seemed to be hanging over the edge of it. The tape was attached to something, which Hector immediately, with a
loud bark of defiance, took possession of, partly by standing upon it,
and partly by holding it in his mouth. Upon stooping to see what this
was, Johanna discovered that it was a waistcoat of blue cloth. At first Hector did not seem much to fancy even letting her look at it;
but after looking intently in her face for a few moments, he very
quietly resigned it to her, only he kept very close to it while she
turned it round and round and looked at it. It might have been Mark
Ingestrie's. It looked something like the sort of garment that a master
mariner might be supposed to wear, and the evident recognition of it by
the dog spoke wonders in favour of the supposition that it had belonged
to his master at one time or another. Johanna thought that in one of the pockets there seemed something, and
upon putting in her hand she found a small piece of paper folded in
four. To undo it was the work of a moment, and then she saw upon it the
following words:--

"Mr. Oakley, Spectacle-maker, 33, Fore Street, City." Her senses seemed upon the point of deserting her. Every object for a
moment appeared to whirl round her in a mad dance. Who should know
better--ah, who should know half so well as she--the handwriting which
conveyed those few words to her senses? It was the handwriting of her
lost lover, Mark Ingestrie! "Hilloa! Pison, is you here?" cried a voice at the shop door at this
moment. Johanna started to her feet. "Who are you?--what do you want?" she cried. "Murder!--murder! He has
been foully murdered, I say; I will swear it--I--I--God help me!" With the little scrap of paper in her hand, she staggered back until she
came to the huge shaving-chair, into which she sank with a long-drawn
sigh. "Why, what's the row?" said the man, who was no other than Hector's
friend, the ostler, from the inn opposite. "What's the row? Now what an
out-and-out willain of a dog you is, Pison, to cut over here like bricks
as soon as you can git loose to do so. Don't you know that old Todd is a
busting to do you an ill turn some o' these days? and yet you will come,
you hidiot." "Mr. Todd is out," said Johanna. "Oh, is he, my little man? Well, the devil go with him, that's all I
say. Come along, that's a good dog." Pison only wagged his tail in recognition of the friendly feeling
between him and the ostler, and then he kept quite close to Johanna and
the waistcoat, which the moment he saw her drop, he laid hold of, and
held tight with such an expression as was quite enough to convince the
ostler he would not readily give it up again. "Now what a hanimal you is," cried the ostler. "Whose blessed veskut is
that you as got?" "He found it here," said Johanna. "Did you see his master on the day
when he came here?"