Sam now felt it time to go; and as we dislike useless mysteries, we may
as well explain that these extraordinary circumstances arose from the
fact that Sam had brought from the haberdasher's opposite a
halfpenny-worth of pins, and had amused himself by making a pincushion
of the hind quarters of the Reverend Mr. Lupin's pony, which, not being
accustomed to that sort of thing, had kicked out vigorously in
opposition to the same, and produced the results we have recorded. Johanna Oakley was some distance upon her road before the reverend
gentleman was pitched into her father's house in the manner we have
described, so that she knew nothing of it, nor would she have cared if
she had, for her mind was wholly bent upon the expedition she was
proceeding on. As she walked upon that side of the way of Fleet-street where Sweeney
Todd's house and shop were situated, a feeling of curiosity prompted her
to stop for a moment and look at the melancholy-looking dog that stood
watching a hat at his door. The appearance of grief upon the creature's face could not be mistaken,
and, as she gazed, she saw the shop-door gently opened and a piece of
meat thrown out. "These are kind people," she said, "be they whom they may;" but when she
saw the dog turn away with loathing, and herself observed that there was
a white powder upon it, the idea that it was poisoned, and only intended
for the poor creature's destruction, came instantly across her mind. And when she saw the horrible-looking face of Sweeney Todd glaring at
her from the partially-opened door, she could not doubt any further the
fact, for that face was quite enough to give a warrant for any amount of
villany whatever. She passed on with a shudder, little suspecting, however, that that dog
had anything to do with her fate, or the circumstances which made up the
sum of her destiny. It wanted a full hour to the appointed time of meeting when she reached
the Temple-gardens, and partly blaming herself that she was so soon,
while at the same time she would not for worlds have been away, she sat
down on one of the garden-seats to think over the past, and to recall to
her memory with all the vivid freshness of young Love's devotion, the
many gentle words which from time to time had been spoken to her two
summers since by him whose faith she had never doubted, and whose image
was enshrined at the bottom of her heart. CHAPTER VI. THE CONFERENCE, AND THE FEARFUL NARRATION IN THE GARDEN. The Temple clock struck the hour of meeting, and Johanna looked
anxiously around her for any one who should seem to her to bear the
appearance of being such a person as she might suppose Mark Ingestrie
would choose for his messenger. She turned her eyes towards the gate, for she thought she heard it
close, and then she saw a gentlemanly-looking man, attired in a cloak,
and who was looking around him, apparently in search of some one. When his eye fell upon her he immediately produced from beneath his
cloak a white rose, and in another minute they met. "I have the honour," he said, "of speaking to Miss Johanna Oakley?" "Yes, sir; and you are Mark Ingestrie's messenger?" "I am; that is to say, I am he who comes to bring you news of Mark
Ingestrie, although I grieve to say I am not the messenger that was
expressly deputed by him so to do." "Oh! sir, your looks are sad and serious; you seem as if you would
announce that some misfortune had occurred. Tell me that it is not so;
speak to me at once, or my heart will break!" "Compose yourself, lady, I pray you." "I cannot--dare not do so, unless you tell me he lives. Tell me that
Mark Ingestrie lives, and then I shall be all patience: tell me that,
and you shall not hear a murmur from me. Speak the word at once--at
once! It is cruel, believe me, it is cruel to keep me in this suspense." "This is one of the saddest errands I ever came upon," said the
stranger, as he led Johanna to a seat. "Recollect, lady, what creatures
of accident and chance we are--recollect how the slightest circumstances
will affect us, in driving us to the confines of despair, and remember
by how frail a tenure the best of us hold existence." "No more--no more!" shrieked Johanna, as she clasped her hands--"I know
all now, and am desolate." She let her face drop upon her hands, and shook as with a convulsion of
grief. "Mark, Mark!" she cried, "you have gone from me! I thought not this--I
thought not this. Oh, Heaven! why have I lived so long as to have the
capacity to listen to such fearful tidings? Lost--lost--all lost! God of
Heaven! what a wilderness the world is now to me!" "Let me pray you, lady, to subdue this passion of grief, and listen
truly to what I shall unfold to you. There is much to hear and much to
speculate upon; and if, from all that I have learnt, I cannot, dare not
tell you that Mark Ingestrie lives, I likewise shrink from telling you
he is no more." "Speak again--say those words again! There is hope, then--oh, there is a
hope!" "There is a hope; and better is it that your mind should receive the
first shock of the probability of the death of him whom you have so
anxiously expected, and then afterwards, from what I shall relate to
you, gather hope that it may not be so, than that from the first you
should expect too much, and then have those expectations rudely
destroyed." "It is so--it is so; this is kind of you, and if I cannot thank you as I
ought, you will know that it is because I am in a state of too great
affliction so to do, and not from want of will; you will understand
that--I am sure you will understand that." "Make no excuses to me. Believe me, I can fully appreciate all that you
would say, and all that you must feel. I ought to tell you who I am,
that you may have confidence in what I have to relate to you. My name is
Jeffery, and I am a colonel in the Indian army." "I am much beholden to you, sir; but you bring with you a passport to my
confidence, in the name of Mark Ingestrie, which is at once sufficient. I live again in the hope that you have given me of his continued
existence, and in that hope I will maintain a cheerful resignation that
shall enable me to bear up against all you have to tell me, be it what
it may, and with a feeling that through much suffering there may come
joy at last. You shall find me very patient, ay, extremely patient--so
patient that you shall scarcely see the havoc that grief has already
made here." She pressed her hands upon her breast as she spoke, and looked in his
face with such an expression of tearful melancholy that it was quite
heartrending to witness it; and he, although not used to the melting
mood, was compelled to pause for a few moments ere he could proceed in
the task he had set himself. "I will be as brief," he said, "as possible, consistent with stating all
that is requisite for me to state, and I must commence by asking you if
you are aware under what circumstances it was that Mark Ingestrie was
abroad?"