The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CHAPTER VIIL THE THIEVES’ HOME. In a very few minutes Sweeney Todd found that this court had no thoroughfare, and therefore there was no outlet or escape, but he immediately concluded that something more was to be found than was at first sight to be seen, and casting a furtive glance beside him in the direction in which he had come, rested his hand upon a door which stood close by. The door gave way, and Sweeney Todd, hearing, as he imagined, a noise in the street, dashed in, and closed the door, and then he, heedless of all consequences, walked to the end of a long, dirty passage, and, pushing open a door, descended a short flight of steps, to the bottom of which he had scarcely got, when the door which faced him at the bottom of the steps opened by some hand, and he suddenly found himself in the presence of a number of men seated round a large table. In an instant all eyes were turned towards Sweeney Todd, who was quite unprepared for such a scene, and for a minute he knew not what to say; but, as indecision was not Sweeney Todd’s characteristic, he at once advanced to the table and sat down. There was some surprise evinced by the persons who were seated in that room, of whom there were many more than a score, and much talking was going on among them, which did not appear to cease on his entrance. Those who were near him looked hard at him, but nothing was said for some minutes, and Sweeney Todd looked about to understand, if he could, how he was placed, though it could not be much of a matter of doubt as to the character of the individuals present. Their looks were often an index to their vocations, for all grades of the worst of characters were there, and some of them were by no means complimentary to human nature, for there were some of the most desperate characters that were to be found in London. Sweeney Todd gave a glance around him, and at once satisfied himself of the desperate nature of the assembly into which he had trusted himself. They were dressed in various fashions, some after the manner of the city—-some more gay,® and some half military, while not a few wore the garb of country-men; but there was in all that an air of scampish, off-hand behaviour, not unmixed with brutality. “Friend,” said one, who sat near him, “how came you here; are you known here?” “T came here, because I found the door open, and I was told by some one to come here, as I was pursued.” “Pursued?” “Ay, some one running after me, you know.” “T know what being pursued is,” replied the man, “and yet I know nothing of you.” “That is not at all astonishing,” said Sweeney, “seeing that I never saw you before, nor you me; but that makes no difference. I’m in difficulties, and I suppose a man may do his best to escape the consequences?” “Yes, he may, yet there is no reason why he should come here; this is the place for free friends, who know and aid one another.” “And such I am willing to be; but at the same time I must have a beginning. I cannot be initiated without some one introducing me. I have sought protection, and I have found it; if there be any objection to my remaining here any longer, I will leave.” “No, no,” said a tall man on the other side of the table, “I have heard what you said, and we do not usually allow any such things; you have come here unasked, and now we must have a little explanation—our own safety may demand it; at all events we have our customs, and they must be complied with.” “And what are your customs?” demanded Todd. “This: you must answer the questions which we shall propound unto you; now answer truly what we shall ask of you.” “Speak,” said Todd, “and I will answer all that you proposed to me, if possible.” “We will not tax you too hardly, depend upon it: who are you?” “Candidly, then,” said Todd, “that’s a question I do not like to answer, nor do I think it is one that you ought to ask. It is an inconvenient thing to name oneself—you must pass by that inquiry.” “Shall we do so?” inquired the interrogator of those around him, and gathering his cue from their looks, he, after a brief pause continued— “Well, we will pass over that, seeing it is not necessary; but you must tell us what you are—cutpurse,* footpad,® or what not?” “T am neither.” “Then tell us in your own words,” said the man, “and be candid with us. What are you?” “T am an artificial pearl-maker—or a sham pearl-maker, whichever way you please to call it.” “A sham pearl-maker! that may be an honest trade for all we know, and that will hardly be your passport to our house, friend sham pearl-maker!” “That may be as you say,” replied Todd, “but I will challenge any man to equal me in my calling. I have made pearls that would pass almost with a lapidary, and which would pass with nearly all the nobility.” “T begin to understand you, friend; but I would wish to have some proof of what you say; we may hear a very good tale, and yet none of it shall be true; we are not the men to be made dupes of, besides, there are enough to take vengeance, if we desire it.” “Ay, to be sure there is,” said a gruff voice from the other end of the table, which was echoed from one to the other, till it came to the top of the table. CORniclooo S