The String of Pearls (1850), p. 63

she had not asked Colonel Jeffery for a personal description of Mr. Thornhill, for that would have settled all her doubts at once, and the idea that she had it still in her power to do so, in consequence of the appointment he^ had made with her for that day week, brought her some consolation.
"It must have been he," she said; "his anxiety to leave the ship, and get here by the day he mentions, proves it; besides, how improbable it is, that at the burning of the ill-fated vessel, Ingestrie should place in the hands of another what he intended for me, when that other was quite as likely, and perhaps more so, to meet with death as Mark himself."
Thus she reasoned, forcing herself each moment into a stronger belief of the identity of Thornhill with Mark Ingestrie, and so certainly narrowing her anxieties to a consideration of the fate of one person instead of two.
"I will meet Colonel Jeffery," she said, * and ask him if this Mr. Thornhill had fair hair, and a soft and pleasing expression about the eyes, that could not fail to be remembered. I will ask him how he spoke, and how he looked; and get him, if he can, to describe to me even the very tones of his voice ; and then I shall be sure, without the shadow of a doubt, that it is Mark. But then, oh! then comes the anxious question, of what has been his fate?"
When poor Johanna began to consider the multitude of things that might have happened to her lover during his progress from Sweeney Todd's, in Fleet-street, to her father's house, she became quite lost in a perfect maze of conjecture, and then her thoughts always painfully reverted back to the barber's shop where the dog had been stationed; and she trembled to reflect for a moment upon the frightful danger to which that string of pearls might have subjected him.
"Alas! alas!" she cried, "lean well conceive that the man whom I saw attempting to poison the dog would be capable of any enormity. I saw his face but for a moment, and yet it was one never again to be forgotten. It was a face in which might be read cruelty and evil passions ; besides, the man who would put an unoffending animal to a cruel death, shows an absence of feeling, and a baseness of mind, which make him capable of any crime he thinks he can commit with impunity. What can I do—oh! what can I do to unravel this mystery?"
No one could have been more tenderly and gently brought up than Johanna Oakley, but yet, inhabitive of her heart, was a spirit and a determination which few indeed could have given her credit for, by merely looking on the gentle and affectionate countenance which she ordinarily presented. But it is no new phenomenon in the history of the human heart to find that some of the most gentle and loveliest of human creatures are capable of the highest efforts of perversion; and when Johanna Oakley told herself, which she did, she was determined to devote her existence to a discovery of the mystery that enveloped the fate of Mark
Ingestrie, she likewise made up her mind that the most likely man for accomplishing that object should not be rejected by her on the score of danger, and she at
once set to work considering what those means should be. This seemed an endless task, but still she thought that if, by any means whatever, she could get admittance to the barber's house, she might be able to come to some conclusion as to whether or not it was there where Thornhill, whom she believed to be Ingestrie, had been stayed in his progress.
"Aid me Heaven," she cried, "in the adoption of some means of action on the occasion. Is there any one with whom I dare advise. Alas ! I fear not, for the only person in whom I have put my whole heart is my father, and his affection for me would prompt him at once to interpose every possible obstacle to my proceeding, for fear danger should come of it. To be sure, there is Arabella Wilmot, my old school fellow and bosom friend, she would advise me to the best of her ability, but I much fear she is too romantic and full of odd, strange actions, that she has taken from books, to be a good adviser; and yet what can I do? I must speak to some one, if it be but in case any accident happening to me, my father may get news of it, and I know of no one else whom I can trust but Arabella."
After some little more consideration, Johanna made up her mind that on the

THE STRING OF PEARLS, 63

she had not asked Colonel Jeffery for a personal description of Mr. Thornhill, for
that would have settled all her doubts at once, and the idea that she had it still in
her power to do so, in consequence of the appointment he^ had made with her
for that day week, brought her some consolation. *

"It must have been he," she said; "his anxiety to Jeave the ship, and get
here by the day he mentions, proves it ; besides, how improbable it is, that at the
burning of the ill-fated vessel, Ingestrie should place in the hands of another what
he intended for me, when that other was quite as likely, and perhaps more so, to
meet with death as Mark himself."

Thus she reasoned, forcing herself each moment into a stronger belief of the
identity of Thornhill with Mark Ingestrie, and so certainly narrowing her anxieties
to a consideration of the fate of one person instead of two.

" I will meet Colonel Jeffery," she said, * and ask him if this Mr. Thornhill
had fair hair, and a soft and pleasing expression about the eyes, that could not fail
to be remembered. I will ask him how he spoke, and how he looked; and get
him, if he can, to describe to me even the very tones of his voice ; and then I
shall be sure, without the shadow of a doubt, that it is Mark. J5ut then, oh !
then comes the anxious question, of what has been his fate ?"

When poor Johanna began to consider the multitude of things that might have
happened to her lover during his progress from Sweeney Todd's, in Meet-street, to
her father's house, she became quite lost in a perfect maze of conjecture, and
then her thoughts always painfully reverted back to the barber's shop where the
dog had been stationed; and she trembled to reflect for a moment upon the fright-
ful danger to which that string of pearls might have subjected him.

"Alas! alas!" she cried, "lean well conceive that the man whom I saw
attempting to poison the dog would be capable of any enormity. I saw his face
but for a moment, and yet it was one never again to oe forgotten. It was a face
in which might be read cruelty and evil passions ; besides, the man who would put
an unoffending animal to a cruel death, shows an absence of feeling, and a base-
ness of mind, which make him capable of any crime he thinks he can commit
with impunity. What can I do— oh ! what can I do to unravel this mystery ?"

No one could have been more tenderly and gently brought up than Johanna
Oakley, but yet, inhabitive of her heart, was a spirit and a determination which
few indeed could have given her credit for, by merely looking on the gentle and
affectionate countenance which she ordinarily presented. But it is no new pheno-
menon in the history of the human heart to find that some of the most gentle and
loveliest of human creatures are capable of the highest efforts of perversion; and
when Johanna Oakley told herself, which she did, she was determined to devote
her existence to a discovery of the mystery that enveloped the fate of Mark
Ingestrie, she likewise made up her mind that the most likely man for accomplish-
ing that object should not be rejected by her on the score of danger, and she at
once set to work considering wnat those means should be. This seemed an end-
less task, but still she thought that if, by any means whatever, she could get
admittance to the barber's house, she might be able to come to some conclusion
as to whether or not it was there where Thornhill, whom she believed to be
Ingestrie, had been stayed in his progress,

€s Aid me Heaven," she cried, " in the adoption of some means of action on the
occasion. Is there any one with whom I dare advise. Alas ! I fear not, for the
only person in whom I have put my whole heart is my father, and his affection
for me would prompt him at once to interpose every possible obstacle to my
proceeding, for fear danger should come of it. To be sure, there is Arabella
Wilmot, my old school fellow and bosom friend, she would advise me to the best
of her ability, but I much fear she is too romantic and full of odd, strange actions,
that she has taken from books, to be a good adviser ; and yet what can I do ? I
must speak to some one, if it be but in case any accident happening to me, my
father may get news of it, and I know of no one else whom I can trust but
Arabella."

After some little more consideration, JFohanna made up her mind that on the