"Why, he's gone a little bit out of his mind," said the blacksmith, as
he gathered up his tools to be gone. The turnkey shook his head. "Are you quite sure you have made a tight job of that?" "Sure? Ay, that I am. If he gets out of them, put me in 'em, that's all. Oh, no! It would take--let me see--it would take about half a dozen of
him to twist out o' that suit of armour. They are just about the best we
have in the old stone jug." "Good." "Yes, they are good." "I mean very well. And now Mr. Sweeney Todd, we will leave you to your
own reflections, old boy, and much good may they do you. Good-night, old
fellow. I always says good-night to the prisoners, cos it has a tender
sort o' sound, and disposes of 'em to sleep. It's kind o' me, but I
always was tender-hearted, as any little chick, I was." Bang went the cell door, and its triple locks were shot into their
hoops. Todd was alone. He had sat down upon a stool that was in the cell; and that stool, with
a sort of bench fastened to the wall, was the only furniture it
contained; and there he sat for about half an hour, during which time
one of the most extraordinary changes that ever took place in the face
of any human being, took place in his. It seemed as if the wear and tear of years had been concentrated into
minutes; and in that short space of time he passed from a middle aged,
to be an old man. Then reflection came! "Newgate!" he cried as he sprang to his feet. The chains rattled and clanked together. "Chains--Newgate--a cell--death! Found out at last! At the moment of my
triumph--defeated--detected! Newgate--chains--death!" He fell back upon the stool again, and sat for the space of about two
minutes in perfect silence. Then he sprang up again with such a wild
yell of rage and mental agony, that not only the cell, but the whole of
that portion of the prison, echoed again with it. The turnkey opened a small wicket in the door, which when it was opened
from without, still was defended by iron bars across it, and peering
into the cell, he said--

"Hilloa! What now?" "Hilloa!" shouted Todd. "Air--air!" "Air? Why what do you mean by gammoning a fellow in that sort o' way
for, eh? Haven't you got lots o' air? Well, of all the unreasonable
coves as ever I comed across, you is the worstest. Be quiet, will you?" "No--no! Death--death! Give me the means of instant death. I am going
mad--mad--mad!" "Oh, no yer ain't. It's only yer first few hours in the stone-jug that
has comed over you a little, that's all, old fellow. You'll soon pick
up, and behave yourself like any other christian. All you have got to do
is never to mind, and then it's nothink at all, old chap." Clap went shut the little wicket door again. "Help! Help!" shouted Todd. "Take these irons off me. It is only a dream
after all. Back, back you grinning fiends--why do you look at me when
you know that it is not real? No--no, it cannot be, you know that it
cannot be real." "Be quiet will you?" shouted the turnkey. "Keep off, I say. All is well. Mrs. Lovett dead--quite dead. The boy to
die too. The house in a blaze--all is well arranged. Why do you mock and
joke at me?" "Well, I never!" said the turnkey. "I do begin to think now that he's
getting queer in the upper story. I have heard of its driving some of
'em mad to be bowled out when they didn't expect it, more 'special when
it's a hanging affair. I wonder what he will say next? He's a regular
rum un, he is." "What have I done?" shouted Todd. "What have I done? Nothing--nothing. The dead tell no tales. All is safe--quite safe. The grave is a good
secret keeper. I think Tobias is dead too--why not? Mrs. Lovett is dead. This is not Newgate. These are not chains. It is only the nightmare. Ha! ha! ha! It is only the nightmare--I can laugh now!" "Oh, can you?" said the turnkey. "It's rather an odd sort o' laugh
though, to my thinking. Howsomdever, there's no rule agin grinning, so
you can go on at it as long as you like." "Mercy!" suddenly shrieked Todd, and then down he fell upon the floor of
the cell, and lay quite still. The turnkey looked curiously in at him,
through the little grating. "Humph!" he said, "I must go and report him to the Governor, and he will
do whatsomdever he likes about him; but I suppose as they will send the
doctor to him, and all that ere sort o' thing, for it won't do to let
him slip out o' the world and quite cheat the gallows; oh dear no." Muttering these and similar remarks to himself, the turnkey went, as he
was bound in duty to do upon any very extraordinary conduct upon the
part of any prisoner in his department, to report what Todd was about to
the Governor. "Ah!" said that functionary, the surgeon, "and I will soon come to him. I fully expected we should have some trouble with that man. It really is
too bad, that when people come into the prison, they will not be quiet. It would be just as well for them, and much more comfortable for me." "Werry much, sir," said the turnkey. "Well--well, he shall be attended to." "Werry good, sir." The turnkey went back and took up his post again outside Todd's door,
and in the course of ten minutes or so, without making the least hurry
of the subject, the Governor and the jail surgeon arrived and entered
the cell. Todd was picked up, and then it was found that he had struck his head
against the stone floor, and so produced a state of insensibility, but
whether he had done it on purpose or by accident, they could come to no
opinion. "Lay him on the bench," said the surgeon, "I can do nothing with him. He
will come to himself again in a little while, I daresay, and be all
right again in the morning." "He seems really, indeed, to be a very troublesome man," said the
Governor to the surgeon. "Very likely. Have you a mind for a game of cribbage to-night, Governor? I suppose this fellow will hang?" "Yes, I don't mind a game. Yes, they will tuck him up." With this they left Todd's cell, and the turnkey closed the door, and
made the highly philosophical remark to himself of--

"Werry good." Todd remained until the morning in a state of insensibility, and when he
awakened from it he was very much depressed in strength indeed. He lay
for about two hours gazing on the ceiling of his cell, and then the door
was opened, and the turnkey appeared with a bason of milk-and-water and
a lump of coarse bread. "Breakfast!" he cried. Todd glared at him. "Breakfast; don't you understand that, old cock? However, it's all one
to me. There it is--take it or leave it." Todd did not speak, and the not over luxurious meal was placed on the
table, or rather upon the end of the bench upon which he lay, and which
served the purpose of a table. The moment Todd heard the door of the cell closed behind the turnkey, he
rose from his recumbent posture, and, although he staggered when he got
to his feet, he seized the bason, and at once, without tasting any of
its contents, broke it against the corner of the bench to fragments. "I shall elude them yet!" he said.