"Then, Mr. W., the only thing to do, is for you and I to go up stairs,
and say that as I was out you did not know a Mr. Jones had spoken about
the lodging, but that, if he could give a reference in London, we would
still have him for a lodger." "Very well. That will be only civil, and if he says he can't, but must
send to Cambridge--"

"Why then, my dear, you must say that he may stay till he writes, and
I'll be guided by his looks. If I give you a nudge, so, with my elbow,
you may consider that it's pretty right." "Very well, my dove." CHAPTER XXXVIII. SIR RICHARD PRIES INTO TODD'S SECRETS. Crotchet soon reached the attic floor of the shoemaker's house, and
although in profound darkness, he managed, as he thought, to touch the
right door. Tap! tap! went Crotchet's knuckles, and as he did so he
followed a habit very general, when the knock is only a matter of
ceremony, and opened the door at the same moment. He popped his head
into a room where there was a light, and said--

"Here yer is." A scream was the reply to him, and then Crotchet saw, by the state of
affairs there, that he had made a little mistake in the topography of
the attic landing. The attic in which he found himself, for he had
crossed the threshold, was in the occupation of an elderly gaunt-looking
female, who was comforting her toes by keeping them immersed in a pan of
water by the side of a little miserable fire, which was feebly
pretending to look cheerful in the little grate. "Lor, mum!" said Crotchet. "Who'd a thought o' seeing of you?" "Oh, you monster. You base man, what do you want here?" "Nothink!" "Be off with you, or else I'll call the _perlice_." "Oh, I'm a going, mum. How do you bring it in, mum, in a general way?" "Help! Murder!" "Lord bless us, what a racket. Don't you go for to fancy, mum, that I
comed up these here attic stairs for to see you. Quite the rewerse,
mum." "Then, pray who did you come to see, you big ugly monster you? The other
attic is empty. Oh, you base infidel. I believe I knows what men are by
this time." "No doubt on it, mum. Howsomedever this here's the wrong door, I take
it. No harm done, mum. I wish you and your toes, mum, a remarkably good
evening." "Crotchet," said a voice. "Here yer is." Sir Richard Blunt had been attentively listening for Crotchet, and when
he heard the screams of the old lady in the next attic, he opened the
door of his apartment, and looked out. He soon discovered what was
amiss, and called out accordingly. "Bless us, who's that?" "The Emperor o' Russia, mum," said Crotchet. "He's took that 'ere attic
next to you, cos he's heard so much o' the London chumbley pots, and he
wants to have a good look at them at his leisure." With these words Mr. Crotchet left the old lady's attic, and closed the
door carefully, leaving her, no doubt, in a considerable state of
bewilderment. In another moment he was with the magistrate. "Crotchet," said Sir Richard, "I thought I told you to do this thing as
quietly as you possibly could." "Down as a hammer, sir." "I think it is anything but down." "Right as a trivet, sir, with a hextra leg. Lots o' fear, but no danger. Now for it, Sir Richard. What lay is we to go on?" It certainly never occurred to Sir Richard Blunt to hold any argument
with Mr. Crotchet. He had long since found out that he must, if he would
avail himself of his services--and for courage and fidelity he was
unequalled--put up with his eccentricities; so upon this occasion he
said no more about Crotchet's mistake, but, after a few moments' pause,
pointing to the attic door, he said--

"Secure it." "All's right." Crotchet took a curious little iron instrument from his pocket, and
secured it into the wall by the side of the door. It did not take him
more than a moment to do so, and then, fully satisfied of the efficacy
of his work, he said--

"Let 'em get over that if they can." While he was so occupied. Sir Richard Blunt himself had opened the
window, and fastened it open securely. "Now, Crotchet," he said, "look to your pistols." "All's right, sir." The magistrate carefully examined the priming of his own arms, and
seeing that all was right, he at once emerged from the attic through the
window on to the parapet of the house. He might have crept along the
gutter just within the parapet, but the gutter aforesaid was not exactly
in the most salubrious condition. Indeed, from its filthy state, one
might have fancied it to be peculiarly under the direction of the city
commissioners of sewers. Crotchet followed Sir Richard closely, and in a
moment or two they had traversed a sufficient portion of the parapet to
find themselves at the attic window of Todd's house. It would have been
next thing to a miracle if they had been seen in their progress, for the
roof was very dark coloured, and the night had fairly enough set in, so
that if any one had by chance looked up from the street below, they
would scarcely have discovered that there was anybody creeping along the
parapet. Now there was a slight creaking noise for about half a minute,
and then the window of Sweeney Todd's attic swung open. "Come on," said Sir Richard, and he softly alighted in the apartment. Crotchet followed him, and then the magistrate carefully closed the
window again, and left it in such a way, that a touch from within would
open it. Then they were in profound darkness, and as it was no part of
the policy of Sir Richard Blunt to run any unnecessary risks, he did not
move one inch from the place upon which he stood until he had lighted a
small hand lantern, which had a powerful reflector and a tin shade,
which in a moment could be passed over the glass, so as to hide the
light upon an emergency. "Now, Crotchet," he said, "we shall see where we are." "_Reether_," said Crotchet. By holding the light some height up, they were able to command a good
view of the attic. It was a miserable looking room: the walls were in a
state of premature decay, and in several places lumps of mortar had
fallen from the ceiling, making a litter of broken plaster upon the
floor. It was entirely destitute of furniture, with the exception of an
old stump bedstead, upon which there lay what looked like a quantity of
old clothes. "Safe enough," said Sir Richard. "Stop!" said Crotchet. "What's the matter?" "There's something odd on the floor here. Don't you see as the dust has
got into a crevice as is bigger nor all the other crevices, and goes
right along this ways and then along that ways? Don't you move, sir. I'll be down upon it in a minute." Mr. Crotchet laid himself down flat upon the floor, and then crept on
until he came to that part of the flooring which had excited his
suspicions. As soon as he pressed upon it with both his hands it gave
way under them plainly, by the elevation of the other end of the three
boards of which this trap was composed, proclaiming that it was a
moveable portion of the floor, revolving or turning upon one of the
joists as a centre. "Oh dear, how clever!" said Crotchet.