At seven o'clock on the morning following these strange events, there were early prayers at St. Dunstan's, and the bells called together the devout at half-past six. Todd was there! Is the reader surprised? Has he never yet in his mundane experience met with a case of sanctimonious villany? Does he think that going to prayer is incompatible with such a life as Todd's? Pho—pho! Live and learn. Todd met the beadle upon the steps of the church. "Ah, Mr. T.," said that functionary. "It does one good to see you, that it does—a deal of good. I say that, of all the tradesmen in Fleet Street, you is the piousest."
"We owe a duty to our creator," said Todd, "which all the pomps and vanities of this world ought to make us neglect."
"Have you heard o' the suicide in Norfolk Street?"
Todd shook his head.
"Why, the beadle of St. Clement's was asking of me only last night, what sort of man you was."
"I?"
"Yes, to be sure. It's a gentleman as you went to shave, and as you lent a razor to, as has cut his blessed throat in Norfolk Street."
"God bless me," said Todd, "you don't mean that? Dear! dear! We are indeed here to-day and gone to-morrow. How true it is that flesh is grass;—and so the gentleman cut his throat with my razor, did he?"
"Above a bit."
"Well, well, it is to be hoped that the Lord will be merciful to the little frailties of his creatures."
"Conwulsions! Do you call that a little frailty?"
Todd had passed on into the body of the church, and any minute observer might have noticed, that when he got there, there was a manifest and peculiar twitching of his nose, strongly resembling the evolutions of a certain ex-chancellor. Then, in a low tone to himself, Todd muttered—
"They make a great fuss about the smell in St. Dunstan's, but I don't think it is so very bad after all."
Perhaps one of Todd's notions in going to early morning prayers was to satisfy himself upon the point of the stench in the church. The morning service was very short, so that Todd got back to his shop in ample time to open it for the business of the day. He gave a glance at the window, to be quite sure that the placard announcing the want of a pious lad was there, and then with all the calmness in the world he set about sharpening his razors. Not many minutes elapsed ere a man came in, leading by the hand a boy of about thirteen years of age.
"Mr. Todd," he said, "you want a lad."
"Yes."
"You don't know me, but I am Cork, the greengrocer in the market."
"Oh," said Todd.
"You see this is Fred, by the first Mrs. C., and the second Mrs. C. thinks he'd better go out to something now; if you will take him 'prentice we will provide him, and he can run into our place for his meals and tell us all the gossip of the shop, which will amuse Mrs. C., as she's in a delicate condition, and I have no doubt you will find him just the lad for you."
"Dear! dear!" said Todd.
"What's the matter, Mr. T.?"
"I'm so aggravated.—Is he pious?"
"Decidedly."
"Does he know his catechism and his belief?"
"Oh, yes. Only ask him, Mr. Todd. Only ask him."
"Come here, my dear boy. Who was Shindrad, the great uncle of Joshua, and why did Nebuchadnezar call him Zichophobattezer the cousin of Neozobulcoxacride?"
"Eh?" said the boy. "Lor!"
"What learning!" said the greengrocer. "Ah, Mr. Todd, you are one too many for Fred, but he knows his catechiz."
"Well," said Todd, "if the boy that I have promised to think about don't suit me, I'll give you a call, Mr. Cork. But, you see, I am such a slave to my word, that if I promise to think about anything, I go on thinking until it would astonish you how I get through it."
"Well, I'm sure we are very much obliged to you, Mr. Todd. Come along, Fred."
"Indeed!" said Todd, when he was once more alone. "That would suit me certainly. A lying, gossiping boy, to be running home three or four times a day with all the news of the shop. Good—very good indeed."
Todd stropped away at the razors with great vehemence, until he suddenly became aware that some one must be blocking up nearly the whole of the window, for a sudden darkness, like an eclipse, had stolen over the shop. We have before had occasion to remark that Todd had a kind of peephole amid the multifarious articles which blocked up his windows, so that he was enabled to look out upon the passing world when he pleased. Upon this occasion he availed himself of this mode of ascertaining who it was that had stopped the light from making its way into the shop. It was no other than our old acquaintance, Big Ben from the Tower, who was on his way to Mr. Oakley's. The heart of Ben had been sensibly touched by the distress of Johanna, and he was going to give her a word or two of comfort and encouragement, which would wholly consist of advising her to "never mind." But still Ben's intention was good, however weak might be the means by which he carried it out. As for passing Todd's window without looking in, he could no more help having a good stare, than he could help doing justice to a flagon of old ale, if it were placed before him; and upon this occasion the little placard, announcing the want of a pious youth, fixed the whole of Ben's wonder and attraction.
"A pious lad!" said Ben. "Oh, the villain. Never mind. Easy does it—easy does it."
"Curses on that fellow!" muttered Todd. "What is he staring at?"
"A pious lad!" ejaculated Ben. "Pious—oh—oh. Pious!"
"Shaved this morning, sir?" said Todd, appearing at his door with a razor in his hand. "Shaved or dressed? Polish you off surprisingly, in no time, sir."
"Eh?"
"Walk in, sir—walk in. A nice comfortable shave makes a man feel quite another thing. Pray walk in, sir. I think I have had the ple............