Mr. Lupin
was so transfixed by finding Ben there, that for a moment or two he
could not gather strength to retreat; and during that brief period, Ben
had shifted his chair, until he got quite behind the reverend gentleman,
who, when he did step back, in consequence fell into Ben's lap. "What do yer mean?" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder. "Oh, murder--murder! Have mercy upon me! I only looked in as I was
passing, to ask how all the family was." "Yes," said Mr. Oakley, "and because you, no doubt, heard I was going to
Tottenham, to Judge Merivale's, to fit him with a pair of spectacles." "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Let me go, sir." "I don't want you," said Ben; "but as you are here, let's make an end of
all differences, and have a pint together." "A pint?" "Yes, to be sure. By the look of your nose, I should say it knows pretty
well what a pint is." "Oh, dear--man is sinful alway. I bear no malice, and if the truly
right-minded and pious Mrs. Oakley was only here, we might drink down
all differences, Mr. a--a--"

"Ben." "Mr. Ben. Thank you, sir." "Oh, Mr. Lupin," cried Mrs. Oakley, at this moment bursting into the
parlour. "Is it possible that you can give your mind in this way to the
Philistines? Is not this backsliding?" "Let us hope for the best, sister," said Mr. Lupin, with an evangelical
twang. "Let us hope for the best. If people will drink, they had much
better drink with the saints, who may take some favourable opportunity
of converting them, than with sinners." "Sit down, mum," said Ben, "and let's bury all animosities in the can. Easy does it. Don't you go, Johanna." "Yes, but, Ben, I--"

"Now don't." Ben saw by the direction of Johanna's eyes, that the Rev. gentleman was
resting one of his red raw-looking hands upon her arm, and, situated as
she was, she could not get out of his way but by rising. "Sit still," said Ben. "Easy does it." Lifting up the can, then, he pretended to drink out of it, and then
brought it with such a thundering crack upon Mr. Lupin's head, that it
quite staggered him. "Paws off," said Ben. "Just attend to that ere gentle hint, old friend." Mr. Lupin sat down with a groan. "Now, mum," said Ben, who all the while had held fast the stone mug of
mulled porter. "Now, mum, here's some hot, that don't suit me so well as
the cold, perhaps you and Mr. Lupin will take that, while I cuts a few
more sandwiches." He placed the jug before Mr. Lupin, who thereupon left off rubbing his
head, and said--

"I'm sure it would be highly unchristian of me to bear any malice, so,
with the Lord's leave, I will even partake of some of this worldly
liquor, called mulled porter." Now while Mr. Lupin drank the savoury stream from the jug, it assailed
the senses of Mrs. Oakley, and when the porter was placed before her,
she raised it to her lips, saying--

"If folks are civil to me, I'm civil to them, only I don't like my godly
friends to be ill-treated. I'm sure nobody knows what I have gone
through for my family, and nobody thinks what a mother and wife I have
been. What would have become of Oakley if it hadn't been for me, is a
question I often ask myself in the middle of the night?" "She's a wonderful woman," sighed Lupin. "Oh, uncommon," said Ben. "Let me go," whispered Johanna to Ben. "No, no! Wait for the fun." "What fun?" "Oh, you'll see. You don't know what a trouble it has cost me, to be
sure. Only wait a bit, there's a duck, do." Johanna did not like to say she would not, so she shrunk back in her
chair in no small curiosity, to know what was about to happen. Mrs.
Oakley lifted the jug to her lips and drunk deep. The aroma of the
liquor must have been peculiarly grateful to the palate of Mrs. Oakley,
for she certainly kept the jug at her mouth for a length of time, that,
to judge by the look of impatience upon the countenance of Mr. Lupin,
was something outrageous. "Sister!" he said. "Mind your breath." Down came the jug, and Mrs. Oakley, when she could draw breath, gasped--

"Very good indeed. A dash of allspice would make it delicious." "Oh, sister," cried Lupin as he grasped the jug, that was gently pushed
towards him by Ben after Mrs. Oakley had set it down. "Oh, sister, don't
give your mind to carnal things, I beg of you. Why, she's drank it all." Mr. Lupin peered into the jug. He shut the right eye and looked in with
the left, and then he shut the left eye and looked in with the right,
and then he moved the jug about until the silver lid came down with a
clap, that nearly snapped his nose off. "What's the matter?" said Ben. "I--I--don't exactly--" Mr. Lupin raised the lid again and again, and
peered into the jug in something of the fashion which popular belief
supposes a crow to look into a marrow bone. At length he turned the jug upside down, and struck the bottom of it
with his pious knuckles. A huge toad fell sprawling upon the table. Mrs.
Oakley gave a shriek, and rushed into the yard. Mr. Lupin gave a groan,
and flew into the street, and the party in the parlour could hear them
in a state of horrible sickness. "Easy does it," said Ben, "it's only a piece of wood shaped like a toad
and painted, that's all. Now I'm easy. I owed 'em one." CHAPTER XLVI. TOBIAS'S HEART IS TOUCHED. Tobias is no worse all this time. But is he better? Has the godlike
spirit of reason come back to the mind-benighted boy? Has that pure and
gentle spirit recovered from its fearful thraldom, and once again opened
its eyes to the world and the knowledge of the past? We shall see. Accompany us, reader, once again to the house of Colonel Jeffery. You
will not regret looking upon the pale face of poor Tobias again. The
room is darkened, for the sun is shining brightly, and an almond tree in
the front garden is not sufficiently umbrageous in its uncongenial soil
to keep the bright rays from resting too strongly upon the face of the
boy. There he lies! His eyes are closed, and the long lashes--for
Tobias, poor fellow, was a pretty boy--hung upon his cheek, held down by
the moisture of a tear. The face is pale, oh, so pale and thin, and the
one arm and hand that lies outside the coverlet of the bed, show the
blue veins through the thin transparent skin. And all this is the work
of Sweeney Todd. Well, well! heaven is patient! In the room is
everything that can conduce to the comfort of the slumbering boy. Colonel Jeffery has kept his word. And now that we have taken a look at
Tobias, tread gently on tip-toe, reader, and come with us down stairs to
the back drawing-room, where Colonel Jeffery, his friend Captain
Rathbone, the surgeon, and Mrs. Ragg are assembled. Mrs. Ragg is "crying
her eyes out," as the saying is. "Sit down, Mrs. Ragg," said the colonel, "sit down and compose yourself. Come, now, there is no good done by this immoderate grief." "But I can't help it." "You can control it. Sit down." "But I oughtn't to sit down. I'm the cook, you know, sir." "Well, well; never mind that, if you are my cook. If I ask you to be
seated, you may waive all ceremony.