The String of Pearls (1850), p. 614

The house was perfectly dark from top to bottom. The shutters of the shop, of course, were all up, and the shutters of the first-floor windows were likewise closed. The other windows had their old dingy blinds all down; and, to all outward appearance, that den of murder was deserted.
But Todd could not believe such to be the case. In his own mind, he felt fully sure, that Sir Richard Blunt was not the man to leave the house without some sort of custody; and he quite settled with himself, that there was some one or more persons minding it, and, no doubt, by order, sitting there in one of
the back rooms, so that no light should show in front.
"Curses on them all!" he muttered.
"Ah! you are looking at old Todd's house, sir," said a voice.
Todd started; and close to him was a person smoking a pipe, and looking as jolly as possible.
"Yes—yes," stammerd Todd, for he was taken by surprise rather. "Oh, yes, sir. I am amazed at the great wickedness of human nature."
"You may well, sir—you may well! Lord bless me! I never thought him a good looking man, but I never thought any ill of him neither, and I have seen
him lots of times."
"Indeed, sir? Pray, what sort of man was he? I never saw him, as I live in Soho; and I am so much in years now, that in the bustling day-time I don't care to come into streets like this; for you see, sir, I can't move about as I could sixty years ago; and the people—God help them—are all in such a hurry now, and they push me here and there in such a way, that my failing breath and limbs won't stand it; and—and—eugh!—eugh! Oh, dear."
"Poor old gentleman! I don't wonder at your not liking the crowds. How old may you be, sir?"
"A matter of eighty-nine. It's an old age to get to, but I—I am younger than my brother, yet—Ha! ha! Oh dear, if it wasn't now for the rheumatism and the lumbago and a pain in my shoulder, and a few other little things, I should get on very well."
"Not a doubt of it. But you asked me what Todd was like, and I'll tell you, sir. He was nigh upon six feet high, and his face was two feet of it. He was just as ugly as any one you would wish to see for a pattern in that way, and that's his house where he murdered all the people."
"Peace be to their souls!"
"Amen! And there are underground places that lead right away through the vaults of St. Dunstan's to Bell-yard, where Mrs. Lovett's pie-shop was, you know, sir."
"I have heard. Ah, dear—dear, I have heard. A very wicked woman, indeed—very wicked; and yet, sir, it is to be hoped she has found mercy in another world."
"There would need be plenty of it," said the man with the pipe, "if Mrs. Lovett is to be accommodated with any."
"My friend," said Todd, "don't be profane; and now I must go, as I don't like being out late."
"And so must I, for my pipe's out. I shall turn in, now. Good night, sir, and a pleasant walk home to you."
"Thank you, sir, thank you—eugh! eugh! I think if it were not for my cough, I should do very well."
Todd hobbled away, and the man, who lived in Bouverie Street, went home. Todd had not got any real information from this man ; but the brief conversation
he had had with him, had given him a sort of confidence in his disguise, and in his power of acting, that he had not had before, so that, upon the whole, he was
not sorry for the little incident.
And now it was quite evident that the streets were getting very much deserted. During the whole length of Fleet Street there was not half a dozen persons to be
seen at all, and Todd, after casting a rapid glance around him to note if he were