The String of Pearls (1850), p. 279

"You doubt me?" said Johanna.
"Oh! no—no. I feel now that you will do it, and feeling that, I likewise feel that I ought not to drive you to seek assistance from another, in your enterprise. But something must be arranged between us."
"In what respect?"
"Such as, if I should not hear of you within a certain time, I—I——"
"You would feel bound to find me some help. Be it so, Arabella, If I do
not come to you, or send to you, before the midnight of to-morrow, do what you will, add I shall not think that you have committed any breach of faith."
"I am content, Johanna, to abide by those conditions; and now I will say nothing to you to bend you from your purpose, but I will pray to Heaven that you may become successful, not in finding any record of Mark Inesgestrie, but in procuring peace to your mind by the utter absence of such record."
"I will go now."
"No—no, Johanna. Bethink you what pain your unexplained absence would give to your father. Something must be said or done to make him feel at ease during the, perhaps, many hours that you will be absent."
"It is well thought of, Arabella. Oh! how selfish we become when overwhelmed by our own strange emotions! I had forgotten that I had a father."
It was now agreed between the two young girls that Johanna should go home, and that Arabella Wilmot should call for her, and ask Mr. Oakley's permission for her (Johanna) to come to her upon a visit for two days. It was no very usual thing for Johanna to pass a night with her friend, so that it was thought such a course now would have the effect of quieting all anxiety on account of the absence of the young girl from her parental home.

CHAPTER LX.

TODD FINDS A BOY.

"Temporary insanity, and a dividend of one shilling upon the razor!"
Such was the enlightened verdict of twelve sapient shopkeepers in the Strand upon John Mundell—peace to his manes! He is gone where there are no discounts—no usury laws—no unredeemed pledges, and no strings of pearls! Good day to you, John Mundell!
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Sweeney Todd. "That affair is settled in an uncommonly satisfactory manner. What an odd thing it is, though, that nobody now comes into my shop, but somebody else, upon some shuffling excuse or another, comes in within two minutes afterwards. Now, if I were superstitious, which—I—I am not——"
Here Todd looked first over his right shoulder and then over his left, with two perceptible shudders.
"If, as i say, I were supertitious, which—Hilloa! who's this ?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Todd," said a woman in widow's weeds, as she entered the shop, "but they do say that—that——"
"What?" screamed Todd, "what?"
"That you are charitable to the poor."
"Oh, that's all. I—I. That's all. Very good. I am charitable to the poor. Very—very charitable to the poor. What may your business be, madam?"
"You don't know me, Mr. Todd, I dare say, but my name is Slick."
"Slick—Slick? No, madam, I have not the pleasure of knowing you; and may I again ask why I am honoured with the visit?"
"Why, sir, I have got up a little humble petition. You see, sir, my husband, Solomon Slick, is a watch-maker, and one day, about a month ago, he went out