The String of Pearls (1850), p. 675

"I must listen—I must listen;' he said, in a low anxious tone. "I must listen until he has gone. When I hear the street-door of the house shut, I shall think that they have let him go, and then I shall be able to breathe again; but not before. Oh, no—no, not before—hush—hush! What is that?"
Every little accidental sound in the house now set the heart of Todd wildly beating. If one had come into the room, and said—" You are my prisoner,"— the probability was, that he would have fainted; but if he did not, it is quite certain that he could not have offered any resistance. A child might have captured him then, during the accession of terror that had come over him in that house, whither he had slunk purposely for safety and for secrecy.
At length he heard a noise of voices in the passage, and then the street-door was opened. As he lay, he could feel a rush of cold air in consequence. Then it was closed again, and the house was very still.
"He has gone! He has gone!" said Todd.
The manner in which Todd pronounced these few words it would be impossible to describe. No shivering wretch reprieved upon the scaffold, with the rope round his neck, could feel a greater relief than did Todd, when he found that the door of that house was really closed upon Sir Richard Blunt.
And then he began to felicitate himself upon the fact that, after all, he had come to that place; "for now," he thought, "I know that, although I have been in great danger, it has passed away; and as Sir Richard Blunt has transacted all his business in this house, he is not likely to come to it again."
That was a pleasant thought, and as Todd dashed from his brow the heavy drops that intense fear had caused to assemble there, he almost smiled.
A very profound stillness now reigned in the house, for Mrs. Hardman was resolved to make up to her lodger—as well as she could—for the noise and disturbance that had been so unwittingly caused in her front room. She had made Ben go away, and as her husband had likewise gone, in pursuance of the orders
of Sir Richard Blunt, to take measures lest Todd should make an escape by the Thames, the place remained as calm and still as if no one were in it but herself.
Todd closed his eyes, and wearied nature sought relief in sleep. Even Sweeney Todd, with more than twenty mortal murders on his conscience, slept calmly for no less than six hours of that, to him, most eventful day
Twice during this long sleep of her lodger's had Mrs. Hardman stolen into the front-room to listen, and been quite satisfied by the regular breathing, that, at all events, her lodger was not dead; and she kept herself upon the alert to attend to him whenever he should awake from that deep sleep.
The long shadows of the houses on the other side of the street had fallen upon the windows of the Hardmans abode, and a slight fog began to make itself perceptible in London, when Todd awoke.
"Help—help! Oh, God, where am I?" he cried;
He sprang half out of the bed, and then the full tide of recollection came back to him, and he fully comprehended his situation m a moment.
"Hush! hush!—hush!" he said; and he listened most intently to hear if his sudden exclamation had attracted any attention.
He heard a footstep on the stairs.
"Hush!—hush!" he said again, "hush—who is it? I must be very careful now!—Oh very!'"
The footstep paused at his door, and then he heard it in the next room, and Mrs. Hardman advancing to the folding doors, said, in the blandest of accents—
"Are you awake, sir, if you please?"
"Yes, madam, yes. I am awake!"
"And how do you feel now, sir, if you please?
"Oh, a great deal better, ma'am, a great deal better. Indeed, I feel quite refreshed. I will come out directly, my dear madam. Pray have the goodness