SWEENEY TODD The String of Pearls

The Original Victorian Classic

James Malcolm Rymer, Thomas Peckett Prest, Thomas Peckett Prest, Rohan McWilliam

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2015
• Print ISBN: 9780486797397
• eBook ISBN: 9780486807256
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

In the early years of the Victorian age, a newly literate class of readers turned to "penny dreadfuls" for escapist fun. Blood-curdling tales, published in installments and costing only a penny, offered gripping episodes of romance, mystery, and horror. The notorious penny dreadful Sweeney Todd: The String of Pearls recounts a young woman's desperate search for her missing sailor sweetheart―a quest that ends in a Fleet Street barber shop, where the proprietor has an unsavory connection with a local baker and the secret ingredient to her delicious meat pies.
Authorship of this tale, which was printed anonymously in 1846-47 in eighteen weekly installments, remains in doubt. The story's serial publication ensured an abundance of cliffhangers, and its dark humor made it an especially appealing source for the long-running Broadway musical Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. A delight for fans of the modern play, this gripping yarn remains a treat for readers of Victorian mysteries.

CHAPTER THIRTY

TOBIAS’S ESCAPE FROM MR. FOGG’S ESTABLISHMENT

THE rage into which Mr. Fogg was thrown by the attack which the desperate Tobias had made upon his representative Mr. Watson, was so great that, had it not been for the presence of stupid old Dr. Popplejoy in the house, no doubt he would have taken some most exemplary revenge upon him. As it was, however, Tobias was thrown into his cell with a promise of vengeance as soon as the coast was clear.

These were the kind of promises which Mr. Fogg was pretty sure to keep, and when the first impulse of his passion had passed away, poor Tobias, as well indeed he might, gave himself up to despair.

“Now all is over,” he said; “I shall be half murdered! Oh, why do they not kill me at once? There would be some mercy in that. Come and murder me at once, you wretches! You villains, murder me at once!”

In his new excitement, he rushed to the door of the cell, and banged it with his fists, when to his surprise it opened, and he found himself nearly falling into the stone corridor from which the various cell doors opened. It was evident that Mr. Watson thought he had locked him in, for the bolt of the lock was shot back but had missed its hold—a circumstance probably arising from the state of rage and confusion Mr. Watson was in, as a consequence of Tobias’s daring attack upon him.

It almost seemed to the boy as if he had already made some advance towards his freedom, when he found himself in the narrow passage beyond his cell-door, but his heart for some minutes beat so tumultuously with the throng of blissful associations connected with freedom that it was quite impossible for him to proceed.

A slight noise, however, in another part of the building roused him again, and he felt that it was only now by great coolness and self-possession, as well as great courage, that he could at all hope to turn to account the fortunate incident which had enabled him, at all events, to make that first step towards liberty.

“Oh, if I could but get out of this dreadful place,” he thought; “if I could but once again breathe the pure fresh air of heaven, and see the deep blue sky, I think I should ask for no other blessings.”

Never do the charms of nature present themselves to the imagination in more lovely guise than when someone with an imagination full of such beauties and a mind to appreciate the glories of the world is shut up from real, actual contemplation. To Tobias now the thought of green fields, sunshine and flowers, was at once rapture and agony.

“I must,” he said, “I must—I will be free.”

A thorough determination to do anything, we are well convinced, always goes a long way towards its accomplishment; and certainly Tobias now would cheerfully have faced death in any shape, rather than he would again have been condemned to the solitary horrors of the cell, from which he had by such a chance got free.

He conjectured the stupid old Dr. Popplejoy had not left the house by the unusual quiet that reigned in it, and he began to wonder if, while that quiet subsisted, there was the remotest chance of his getting into the garden, and then scaling the wall, and so reaching the open common.

While this thought was establishing itself in his mind, and he was thinking that he would pursue the passage in which he was until he saw where it led to, he heard the sound of footsteps, and he shrank back.

For a few seconds they appeared as if they were approaching where he was; and he began to dread that the cell would be searched, and his absence discovered, in which there would be no chance for him but death. Suddenly, however, the approaching footsteps paused, and then he heard a door banged shut.

It was still, even now, some minutes before Tobias could bring himself to traverse the passage again, and when he did, it was with a slow and stealthy step.

He had not, however, gone above thirty paces, when he heard the indistinct murmur of voices, and being guided by the sound, he paused at a door on his right hand, which he thought must be the one he had heard closed but a few minutes previously.

It was from the interior of the room which that was the door of, that the sound of voices came, and as it was a matter of the very first importance to Tobias to ascertain in what part of the house his enemies were, he placed his ear against the panel, and listened attentively.

He recognised both the voices: they were those of Watson and Fogg.

It was a very doubtful and ticklish situation that poor Tobias was now in, but it was wonderful how, by dint of strong resolution, he had stilled the beating of his heart, and the general nervousness of his disposition. There was but a frail door between him and his enemies, and yet he stood profoundly still and listened.

Mr. Fogg was speaking.

“You quite understand me, Watson: I think,” he said, “as concerns that little viper Tobias Ragg, he is too cunning, and much too dangerous, to live long. He almost staggered old superannuated Popplejoy.”

“Oh, confound him!” replied Watson, “and he quite staggered me.”

“Why, certainly your face is rather scratched.”

“Yes, the little devil! but it’s all in the way of business that, Mr. Fogg, and you never heard me grumble at such little matters yet; and I’ll be bound never will, that’s more.”

“I give you credit for that, Watson; but between you and I, I think the disease of that boy is of a nature that will carry him off very suddenly.”

“I think so too,” said Watson, with a chuckle.

“It strikes me forcibly that he will be found dead in his bed some morning, and I should not in the least wonder if that was tomorrow morning: what’s your opinion, Watson?”

“Oh, damn it, what’s the use of all this round-about nonsense between us? the boy is to die, and there’s an end of it, and die he shall, during the night—I owe him a personal grudge of course now.”

“Of course you do—he has disfigured you.”

“Has he? Well, I can return the compliment, and I say, Mr. Fogg, my opinion is, that it’s very dangerous having these medical inspections you have such a fancy for.”

“My dear fellow, it is dangerous, that I know as well as you can tell me, but it is from that danger we gather safety. If anything in the shape of a disturbance should arise about any patient, you don’t know of what vast importance a report from such a man as old Dr. Popplejoy might be.”

“Well, well, have it your own way. I shall not go near Master Tobias for the whole day, and shall see what starvation and solitude does towards taming him down a bit.”

“As you please; but it is time you went your regular rounds.”

“Yes, of course.”

Tobias heard Watson rise. The crisis was a serious one. His eye fell upon a bolt that was outside the door, and, with the quickness of thought, he shot it into its socket, and then made his way down the passage towards his cell, the door of which he shut close.

His next movement was to run to the end of the passage and descend some stairs. A door opposed him, but a push opened it, and he found himself in a small, dimly-lighted room, in one corner of which, upon a heap of straw, lay a woman, apparently sleeping.

The noise which Tobias made in entering the cell, for such it was, roused her up, and she said,—

“Oh! no, no, not the lash! not the lash! I am quiet. God, how quiet I am, although the heart within is breaking. Have mercy upon me!”

“Have mercy upon me,” said Tobias, “and hide me if you can.”

“Hide you! hide you! God of Heavens, who are you?”

“A poor victim, who has escaped from one of the cells, and I—”

“Hush!” said the woman; and she made Tobias shrink down in the corner of the cell, cleverly covering him up with the straw, and then lying down herself in such a position that he was completely screened. The precaution was not taken a moment too soon, for by the time it was completed, Watson had burst open the door of the room which Tobias had bolted, and stood in the narrow passage.

“How the devil,” he said, “came that door shut, I wonder?”

“Oh! save me,” whispered Tobias.

“Hush! hush! He will only look in,” was the answer. “You are safe. I have been only waiting for someone who could assist me, in order to attempt an escape. You must remain here until night, and then I will show you how it may be done. Hush!—he comes.”

Watson did come, and looked into the cell, muttering an oath, as he said,—

“Oh, you have enough bread and water till tomorrow morning, I should say; so you need not expect to see me again till then.”

“Oh! we are saved! we shall escape,” said the poor creature, after Watson had been gone some minutes.

“Do you think so?”

“Yes, yes! Oh, boy, I do not know what brought you here, but if you have suffered one-tenth part of the cruelty and oppression I have suffered, you are indeed to be pitied.”

“If we are to stay here,” said Tobias, “till night, before making any attempt to escape, it will, perhaps, ease your mind, and beguile the time, if you were to tell me how you came here.”

“God knows! it might—it might!”

Tobias was very urgent upon the poor creature to tell her story, to beguile the tedium of the time of waiting, and after some amount of persuasion she consented to do so.

The Mad Woman’s Tale

You shall now hear (she said to Tobias), if you will listen, such a catalogue of wrongs, unredressed and still enduring, that would indeed drive any human being mad; but I have been able to preserve so much of my mental faculties as will enable me to recollect and understand the many acts of cruelty and injustice I have endured here for many a long and weary day.

My persecutions began when I was very young—so young that I could not comprehend their cause, and used to wonder why I should be treated with greater rigour or with greater cruelty than people used to treat those who were really disobedient and wayward children.

I was scarcely seven years old when a maiden aunt died; she was the only person whom I remember as being uniformly kind to me, though I can only remember her indistinctly, yet I know she was kind to me. I know also I used to visit her, and she used to look upon me as her favourite, for I used to sit at her feet upon a stool, watching her as she sat amusing herself by embroidering, silent and motionless sometimes, and then I asked her some questions which she answered.

This is the chief feature of my recollection of my aunt: she soon after died, but while she lived, I had no unkindness from anybody; it was only after that that I felt the cruelty and coldness of my family.

It appeared that I was a favourite with my aunt above all others whether in our family or any other; she loved me, and promised that, when she died, she would leave me provided for, and that I should not be dependent upon anyone.

Well, I was, from the day after the funeral, an altered being. I was neglected, and no one paid...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Introduction to the Dover Edition
• I The Strange Customer at Sweeney Todd’S
• II The Spectacle-Maker’S Daughter
• III The Dog and the Hat
• IV The Pie-Shop in Bell Yard
• V The Meeting in the Temple
• VI The Conference, and the Fearful Narration in the Garden
• VII The Barber and the Lapidary
• VIII The Thieves’ Home
• IX Johanna at Home, and the Resolution
• X The Colonel and his Friend
• XI The Stranger at Lovett’S
• XII The Resolution Come to by Johanna Oakley
• XIII Johanna’S Interview With Arabella Wilmot, and the Advice
• XIV Tobias’S Threat, and its Consequences
• XV The Second Interview Between Johanna and the Colonel in the Temple Gardens
• XVI The Barber Makes Another Attempt to Sell the String of Pearls
• XVII The Great Change in the Prospects of Sweeney Todd
• XVIII Tobias’S Adventures During the Absence of Sweeney Todd
• XIX The Strange Odour in St. Dunstan’S Church
• XX Sweeney Todd’S Proceedings Consequent Upon the Departure of Tobias
• XXI The Misadventures of Tobias. the Madhouse on Peckham Rye
• XXII The Madhouse Cell
• XXIII The New Cook to Mrs. Lovett’S Gets Tired of his Situation
• XXIV The Night at the Madhouse
• XXV Mr. Fogg’S Story at the Madhouse
• XXVI Colonel Jeffery Makes Another Effort to Come at Sweeney Todd’S Secret
• XXVII Tobias Makes An Attempt to Escape From The Madhouse
• XXVIII The Madhouse Yard, and Tobias’S New Friend
• XXIX The Consultation of Colonel Jeffery With The Magistrate
• XXX Tobias’S Escape From Mr. Fogg’S Establishment
• XXXI The Rapid Journey of Tobias to London
• XXXII The Announcement in Sweeney Todd’S Window. Johanna Oakley’S Adventure
• XXXIII The Discoveries in the Vaults Of St. Dunstan’S
• XXXIV Johanna Alone. The Secret. Mr. Todd’S Suspicions. The Mysterious Letter
• XXXV Sweeney Todd Commences Clearing the Road to Retirement
• XXXVI The Last Batch of the Delicious Pies
• XXXVII The Prisoner’S Plan of Escape from the Pies
• XXXVIII Sweeney Todd Shaves A Good Customer. The Arrest
• XXXIX The Conclusion