The String of Pearls (1850), p. 268

"Oh! no—no. I will remain. For how long will it be?"
"I cannot say exactly, but the time may be counted by hours, and not one s hall be lost. Have but a little patience, and I will come to you again. When n ext you hear my voice at the grating, it will be to give the signal of liberty."
"How can I thank you?"
"Never mind that. Good night, and take care of yourself. All will be well."
"Good night. Good night."

CHAPTER LVII.
BIG BEN MAKES A DISCOVERY.

At seven o'clock on the morning following these strange events, there were early prayers at St. Dunstan's, and the bells called together the devout at half-past six. Todd was there! Is the reader surprised? Has he never yet in his mundane experience met with a case of sanctimonious villany? Does he think
that going to prayer is incompatible with such a life as Todd's? Pho—pho! Live and learn. Todd met the beadle upon the steps of the church.
"Ah, Mr. T.," said that functionary. "It does one good to see you, that it does—a deal of good. I say that, of all the tradesmen in Fleet Street, you is the pious east."
"We owe a duty to our creator," said Todd, "which all the pomps and vanities of this world ought to make us neglect."
"Have you heard o' the suicide in Norfolk Street?"
Todd shook his head.
"Why, the beetle of St. Clement's was asking of me only last night, what sort of man you was."
"I?"
"Yes, to be sure. It's a gentleman as you went to shave, and as you lent a razor to, as has cut his blessed throat in Norfolk Street."
"God bless me," said Todd, "you don't mean that? Dear! dear! We are indeed here to-day and gone to-morrow. How true it is that flesh is grass;—and so the gentleman cut his throat with my razor, did he?"
"Above a bit."
"Well, well, it is to be hoped that the Lord will be merciful to the little frailties of his creatures."
"Conwulsions!Do you call that a little frailty."
Todd had passed on into the body of the church, and any minute observer
might have noticed, that when he got there, there was a manifest and peculiar
twitching of his nose, strongly resembling the evolutions of a certain ex-chancellor. Then, in a low tone to himself, Todd muttered—
"They make a great fuss about the smell in St. Dunstan's, but I don't think it is so very bad after all."
Perhaps one of Todd's notions in going to early morning prayers was to satisfy
himself upon the point of the stench in the church. The morning service was
very short, so that Todd got back to his shop in ample time to open it for the
business of the day. He gave a glance at the window, to be quite sure that the
placard announcing the want of a pious lad was there, and then with all the
calmness in the world he set about sharpening his razors. Not many minutes
elapsed ere a man came in, leading by the hand a boy of about thirteen years
of age.
"Mr. Todd," he said, "you want a lad."
"Yes."
"You don't know me, but I am Cork, the greengrocer in the market."
"Oh," said Todd.
"You see this is Fred, by the first Mrs. C, and the second Mrs. C. thinks he'd