"Oh, he will murder everybody." "I think, Mr. Oakley that is going just a little too far, for I will
take good care that he don't murder me, nor any one else, if I can by
any possibility help it. I will soon have him, I think. Where is Mr.
Ingestrie, Mr. Oakley?" "Oh, dear, they are at the new house in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. It's just
opposite to the water if you go--"

"I know all about it, thank you, Mr. Oakley. All's right. Be under no
apprehension, and above all things, don't you believe one word of
anything you hear about Todd from popular rumour or from the newspapers. I will let you know everything that is of any consequence, personally or
by letter. Good morning. I hope Mrs. Oakley is quite well this morning?" "Yes, charming; but, dear me!" "Yes, it is dear me. Good morning." Away rode the magistrate, and now he put his horse, which was a good
one, to a smart trot, and made his way to Colonel Jeffery's house in a
very short space of time; for London was not quite so large as it is
now, and it was not a day's journey to go from one house to another if
your friends happened to reside at different ends of the town. The
colonel, at that hour of the morning, was up and walking in his garden. When Sir Richard Blunt was announced, he guessed at once that something
very unusual had taken place; and after shaking hands, he said--

"I know there's some news. Sir Richard. Is it pleasant, or the other
way?" "In truth," said Sir Richard, "that is a question I can scarcely answer
you yet. All I have got to say is, that you had better look out, for
they have let Todd get out of Newgate." "Escaped?" "Exactly so." "Now that is too bad. One would really have thought they would have
taken care of such a fellow as that. How in the name of all that's
abominable is it, that if any one escapes from Newgate, it is sure to be
some notorious rascal who ought by all means to be the most carefully
kept in it." "Ah! that I don't know, but I quite agree with you that it is a fact
nevertheless." "It's a very awkward thing, and I am particularly obliged to you for
coming to let me know." "Why, the fact is, colonel, my opinion of Todd is just this: that now he
has lost all his money he is just like a wild beast, and that revenge
against all and every one who has been instrumental in bringing him to
his present condition, will be the dominant feeling in his breast." "Not a doubt of it." "Then by awaking you to a sense of this danger both to yourself and to
your _protege_, young Tobias, I am doing my duty. It is not courage that
will protect any one from Sweeney Todd. If that had been the case, this
is the last house I should have dreamt of coming to with a warning; but
it will be only by the greatest circumspection that his attempt to
assassinate may be avoided, and the villain foiled." "I thank you with all my heart, and feel the truth of your observation. I will not mention the matter to poor Tobias, for I feel that it would
drive him half mad with terror; but I will take care to keep such a
watch upon him, that no harm can come to him from Todd, now that I know
that there is danger. He may, of course, hear of the affair from other
sources, but he shall not from me." "That is right. Mind you, colonel, I don't think this state of alarm
must last long, and as regards Tobias, I am in hope that at the same
time he hears of Todd's escape, he may hear of his recapture, for I am
going to set about that as soon as I possibly can, after I have warned
every one interested to keep themselves on the look-out concerning the
rascal." "You think you will have him again?" "Oh, yes. He must be without resources, or, at all events, comparatively
so; and under such circumstances, we shall soon trace him. Besides, he
is rather a remarkable man, and one who, once seen, is not only easily
known again, but easily described; so that when I set all the agencies
on foot which I have at my command to find him out, he cannot for long
elude me." "I sincerely wish you every success." "Thank you, colonel, for I must now be off, for I have to get to Chelsea
to warn the Ingestries of the possible, if not the probable danger of
Todd trying some delectable scheme of revenge against them, for he is
most furious I know against Johanna." "Off with you, Sir Richard, at once. Do not let me detain you, when you
are upon such an errand. I would not have any harm come to Mrs.
Ingestrie for worlds." "Nor I. Good morning." The magistrate mounted his horse again, and waving his hand to the
colonel, he again started at a good round trot, and made the best of his
way by the nearest possible route he could to Chelsea, where Mr. and
Mrs. Ingestrie had set up housekeeping in Cheyne Walk. That portion of Chelsea was then very fashionable, and from the
appearance of the houses even now, it is very easy to see that it must
have been a very desirable place at one time. All the evidences of
wealthy ease meet you on every hand, as you look at those broad,
well-put together, aristocratic residences, with their pretty bit of
highly cultivated garden in front of them, and their massive doorways. It was in one of these houses that Johanna and her young husband had
taken up their residence. The string of pearls had been actually
purchased by royalty of Johanna, and had produced a sum of money that
had not only placed the young couple above all the ordinary pecuniary
accidents of life, but had enabled them to surround Mr. and Mrs. Oakley
with comforts, although the old spectacle-maker, from very habit, would
stick to his shop, declaring, and no doubt with great truth, that his
daily labour was now such a thing of habit that he would be miserable
without it. It was a very different thing, though, for old Mr. Oakley now to work at
the bench in his shop, when he felt that he was placed above the real
necessity for doing so, to when he had worked very hard indeed to
support himself and Johanna, during the period, too, when in consequence
of Mrs. Oakley's rather insane predilection for the Reverend Josiah
Lupin, there was no comfort in the house, and, but for Johanna, all
would have gone to rack and ruin. The frightfully dirty ditch that lies before and beyond Cheyne Walk,
Chelsea, was not then in existence, so that the really handsome row of
residences was not destroyed--as it is now--by such dubious
companionship. The river, too, was much clearer than now of craft, and
likewise much sweeter, so that really at times, when the sun shone upon
its ripples, it really deserved the title of "The Silver Thames." It was still an early hour when Sir Richard Blunt reached Chelsea--that
is to say, it was what then was considered an early hour, for all the
world was not in the hurry that is the fashion now, and people did
everything in a much more easy and deliberate way than they do now. What is gained, or pretended to be gained, by all the hurry-skurry and
jostling and driving that characterises society at present?