The cook was so surprised at these words from Mrs. Lovett that for some moments he made no answer to them. "Pray, speak again," he said at length, when he could find words in which to express himself.
"I repeat," she said, "that I am desirous, as far as lies in my power, to ameliorate your condition, of which you so much complain."
"Indeed!"
"Ah, you are too suspicious."
"Humph! I think, madam, when you come to consider all things, you will hardly think it possible for me to be too suspicious."
"You are wrong again. I dare say now, in your mind, you attribute most of your evils to me."
"Well, madam, candidly speaking, should I be far wrong by so doing?"
"You would be quite wrong. Alas! alas! I—"
"You what, madam? Pray, speak up."
"I am the victim of another. You cannot suppose that, of my own free will, I should shut up in these gloomy places a person of your age, and by no means ill-looking." "I have him there," thought Mrs. Lovett; "what human heart is proof against the seductions of flattery? Oh, I have him there."
The cook was silent for some few moments, and then he said, quite calmly, as though the tribute to his personal appearance had not had the smallest effect—
"Pray go on, madam, I am quite anxious to hear all that you may have to say to me."
This composed manner of meeting her compliments rather discomposed Mrs. Lovett; but after all, she thought—"He is only acting an indifference he is far from feeling." With this impression she resolved to persevere, and she added, in a kind and conciliating tone of voice—
"I grant that circumstances are such that you may well be excused for any amount of doubt that you may feel regarding the honesty of my words and intentions towards you."
"I quite agree with you there, madam," said the cook.
"Then all I have to do is, by deeds, to convince you that I am sincere in my feelings towards you. As I have before said, I am in the power of another, and therefore is it that, contrary to my nature, I may seem to do cruel things at which my heart revolts."
"I cannot conceive anything so distressing," said the cook, "except being the unfortunate victim as I am of such a train of circumstances."
"That is what I am coming to."
"Are you? I wish you were."
There was a tone of irony about the enforced cook which Mrs. Lovett did not at all like; but she had an object to gain, and that was to fully persuade him that the shortest way to his freedom would be to remain profoundly quiet for a day or two, and then she would be able to make her own arrangements and be off without troubling either him or Todd with any news of her departure or her whereabouts.
"You still doubt me," she said. "But listen, and I think you will soon be of opinion that although I have wronged you as yet, I can do something to repair that wrong."
"I am all attention, madam."
"Then, in the first place, you are quite tired of eating pies, and must have some other kind of food."
"You never said a truer thing in all your life, madam."
"That other food, then, I will provide for you. You shall, within an hour from now, have anything to eat or to drink that you may please to name. Speak, what is it to be?"
"Well," he said, "that is kind indeed. But I can do without food further than I have here, for I have hit upon a mode of making cakes that please me. Nevertheless, if you can bring me a bottle of brandy, in order that I may slightly qualify the water that I drink, I shall be obliged to you."
"You shall have it; and now I hope you will be convinced of the sincerity of my desire to be of service to you."
"But my liberty, madam, my liberty. That is the grand thing after all that I must ever pant for."
"True, and that is what you shall have at my hands. In the course of two, or it may be three days, I shall have perfected some arrangements which will enable me to throw open your prison for you, and then—"
"Then what?"
"May I hope that you will not think so harshly of me as you have done?"
"Certainly not."
"Then I shall be repaid for all I do. You must believe me to be the victim of the most cruel circumstances, of which some day you may be informed. At present, to do so, would only be to involve both you and myself in one common destruction."
"Then don't mention it."
"I will not. But beware of one thing."
"What is that?"
"Simply this, that any attempts upon your own part to escape from here previous to the time when I shall have completed my arrangements to set you free, will not only derange all that I am planning for you, but end in your utter destruction; for he who has forced me into my present cruel situation will not for one moment hesitate at the murder of us both; so if you wish to be free in a few days you will try nothing, but if on the contrary you wish to destroy both yourself and me, you will make some attempts to rescue yourself from here."
Mrs. Lovett waited rather anxiously for his answer to this speech.
"I dare say you are right," he said at length.
"You may be assured I am."
"Then I consent."
Mrs. Lovett drew a long breath of relief, as she muttered to herself—
"It will do—I have him in the toils; and come what may, I am free from the torturing thought that he may achieve something that may have the effect of delivering me up to the hands of justice. When I am gone, he may remain where he is, and rot for all I care."—"You have done wisely," she said aloud, "and if anything could more powerfully than another incite me to the greatest exertions to liberate you, it would be the handsome manner in which you have placed confidence in me."
"Oh, don't mention it."
Again there was that tone of sarcasm about the cook's voice, which created a doubt in the mind of Mrs. Lovett if, after all, he was not merely playing with her, and in his heart utterly disregarding all that she said to him. It is quite questionable if this doubt was not in its bitterness worse than the former anxieties that had preyed upon the mind of the lady; but she found she could do nothing to put an end to it, so she merely said—
"Well, I feel much happier now; so I will go at once and get you the brandy that you ask for." "I hope he will drink it freely—it will aid him in drowning reflection."
"Thank you," said the cook, "I shall expect it with impatience." "Confound her, she can't very well put anything queer in the brandy. I will take care to taste a very small portion of it first; for Sir Richard Blunt has cautioned me particu............