The String of Pearls (1850), p. 443

amount of faith she had had in boyhood. The well-concocted scheme had failed, and there she was, with countless halfpence in the till, and so thirsting for strong water, that she was half inclined to make a grand rush herself to the nearest public-house, and chance any one in the interim helping themselves to the pies ad lib.

But she was not reduced to that extremity. Suddenly the window was darkened by a shadow, and through one of the topmost panes an immense hideous face, with an awful grin upon it, confronted Mrs. Stag.
The good lady was fascinated—not in an agreeable sense, but in quite the reverse—she could not take her eyes from off the hideous gigantic face, as it placed itself close to the frame of ill-made greenish glass, in order to get a good view into the shop.
"Goodness gracious, it's Luficer himself!" said Mrs. Stag. "I'm a lost woman. Quite a lost woman. I'm undone. It's Luficer himself, I'm sure and certain!"
Probably the hideous eyes that belonged to the hideous face, conveyed the impression to the brain behind them that Mrs. Stag was in a state of apprehension; for suddenly the face was withdrawn, and Todd—yes, Todd himself, for to whom else could such a face belong?—made his way into the shop.
Mrs. Stag groaned again, and in a stammering voice, said—
"If you please, sir, I—I ain't ready yet."
"Ready for what?" said Todd.
"To go to—to—the brimstone beds, if you please, sir. I haven't done half enough yet."
"Pho!" said Todd. "My good woman, you don't surely take me fo the devil? I am an old friend of Mrs. Lovett's, and a neighbour. I have just stepped in to ask her how she does to day."
Mrs. Stag drew a long breath of relief as she said—
"Well, really, sir, I begs your parding. It must have been the pane of glass that—that—that—"
"Threw my face out of shape a little," said Todd, making one of his most hideous contortions, and finishing it off with a loud "Ha!"
Mrs. Stag nearly fell off her chair. But it was not Todd's wish to frighten her, although he had, in the hilarity of his heart, yielded, like Lord Brougham, to the speculative fun of the moment. He now tried to reassure her.
"Don't be at all alarmed at me, madam," he said. "Mrs. Lovett laughs often at my little funny ways. Is she at home?"
Todd knew what sort of home he had provided Mrs. Lovett with, and this visit to Bell Yard was one partly of curiosity and partly of triumph, to ascertain how she had left things in her absence from her establishment.
"No, sir," said Mrs. Stag, replying to the question of Todd; "she is no at home, sir."
"Dear me, I thought she was always in at this time of the day. When, madam, do you expect her?"
"Leastways," said Mrs. Stag, "I don't know, sir."
"Were you here, madam, when she left home?"
"Yes, I were."
"Oh, and did she leave any message, madam, in case Mr. Todd from Fleet Street should call? Pray recollect yourself, my dear madam, as it may possibly be important. I do not say that it is, but it may be."
"No, sir," replied Mrs. Stag; "oh dear, no. All she said was, that she was going to a christening."
"A christening? Ha! She has been christened!"
"Sir!"
"I only said she had been christened, and no stint of the water, that was all, madam; but I perfectly understand you. Mrs. Lovett has gone to the christening of some one of those sweet little innocents, all perfume and flabbiness, that