The String of Pearls (1850), p. 336

in the breast of Mrs. Lovett, which she was scarcely aware slumbered there. Thse folks made their way, then, into Fleet Street ; and as the reader has
probably guessed already who they are, we may as well make a merit of saying that the big one was our old friend Ben the beef-eater—the gentlemanly-looking man was Sir Richard Blunt, and the young lady was no other than Arabella Wilmot. Poor Arabella! Of all the personages concerned m our dramatis personae we have no hesitation in saying that your sufferings are the greatest. From The moment that Johanna had started upon that desperate expedition to Sweeney Todd's, peace left the bosom of her young friend. We have already traced the progress of Arabella to Sir Richard Blunt's office and we have seen what was the result of that decidedly judicious movement; but
notwithstanding she was assured over and over again subsequently by Sir Richard that Johanna was now well protected, she could not bring herself to think so, or to leave street. It was by her lingering about in this way that she became in the company of our friend Ben. The fact was, that the kind of statement or confession that Johanna had made to Ben on that occasion of his visit to her father's house, when she found herself alone with him in the parlour had made such an impression upon the poor fellow, that he described it himself in the most forcible possible language, by saying—
"It interferes with my meals."
Now, everything that had such an effect as that, must to Ben be a matter for the most serious consideration indeed. He accordingly, finding that
"The peace of the Tower was fled,"
so far as he was concerned, had come into the City upon a sort of voyage of discovery, to see how matters were going on. As he was proceeding along Fleet Street, he chanced to cast his eyes into the entrance of a court, nearly opposite Sweeney Todd's, and there he saw a female form crouching. There was something about this female form which Ben thought was familiar to him. Upon a close look, he felt certain it was Johanna's friend Arabella Wilmot. Full of surprise at finding her there, Ben paused, and stared at her so long that she at last looked at him, and recognising him, immediately flew to his side, and grasping his arm, cried—
"Oh, pity me, Mr. Ben. Pity me!"
"Hold!" said Ben, who was not, as the reader is aware, the fastest thinker in the world. "Hold. Easy does it."
Ben tried to look very wise then.
"Oh, you will hate me, Ben."
"Eh?"
"I say you will hate me, Ben, when you know all. '
Ben shook his head.
"Shan't do any such thing," he said. "Lord bless your pretty eyes, I hate you? I couldn't."
"Come, come," added Ben, "just take your little bit of an arm under mine. Easy does it, you know. Always think of that, if anything goes amiss.
Easy does it; and then you will find things come right in the long run. You may take my word for it."

CHAPTER LXXV.
COLONEL JEFFERYS OPENS HIS EVES.

Arabella was weeping, so that for some little time she could say nothing more to Ben; and he did not, in the profundity of his imagination, very
well know what to say to her, except now and then muttering the maxim "easy does it," which Ben thought singularly applicable to all humans;
this was a state of things which could not last; and Arabella Wilmot, nerving