upon hearing all this, poor mark ingestrie turned very faint and fell back in his chair, looking so pale and wan, that sir richard blunt was compelled to go across the room to hold him up. after giving him a glass of wine, he recovered, and with a deep sigh he said—

"and so i have wronged her after all! oh, my johanna, i am unworthy of you!"

"that," said sir richard, "is a subject entirely for the young lady's own consideration.—n. o. w."

mark ingestrie looked curiously in the face of sir richard blunt, as with marked emphasis upon each letter he said, "n. o. w!" but he had not to wait long for an explanation of what it meant. a door at the back of the room was flung open, and johanna sprung forward with a cry of joy. in another moment she was in the arms of mark ingestrie, and sir richard blunt had left the room.

the meeting of mark and johanna.

the meeting of mark and johanna.

it would be quite impossible, if we had the will to attempt it, for us to go through the scene that took place between johanna oakley and mark ingestrie in the magistrate's parlour. for about half an hour they quite forgot where they were, or that there was any one in the world but themselves. at the end of that period of time, though, sir richard blunt gently walked into the room.

"well," he said, "have you come to any understanding about that military man in the temple gardens?"

johanna sprang towards the magistrate, and placing her arms upon his breast, she kissed him on the cheek.

"sir," she said, "you are our very dear friend, and i love you as i love my father."

"god bless you!" said sir richard, "you have, by those few words, more then repaid me for all that i have done. are you happy?"

"very, very happy."

"so very happy, sir," said ingestrie, as his eyes glistened through tears of joy, "that i can hardly believe in its reality."

"and yet you are both so poor."

"ah, sir, what is poverty when we shall be together?"

"we will face that foe, mark, i think," said johanna, with a smile, "and he shall not extort a tear from us."

"well," said sir richard, as he opened his desk, "since you are not to be knocked down by poverty, what say you to riches? do you know these, mr. ingestrie?"

"why, that is my string of pearls."

"yes. i took this from todd's escritoire myself, and they are yours and johanna's. will you permit me always to call you johanna?"

"oh, yes—yes. do so. all who love me call me johanna."

"very well. this string of pearls, i have ascertained, is worth a sufficient sum to place you both very far above all the primary exigences of life. it will be necessary to produce them at the trial of sweeney todd, but after that event they will be handed to you to do what you please with them, when you can realise them at at once, and be happy enough with the proceeds."

"if my poor friend, thornhill," sighed mark ingestrie, "could but have lived to see this day!"

"that, indeed, would have been a joy," said johanna.

"yes," said the magistrate; "but the grave has closed on his poor remains—at least, i may say so figuratively. he was one of todd's victims, one of his numerous victims; for i do believe that, for a long time, scarcely a week passed that did not witness some three or four murders in that man's shop."

"horrible!"

"you may well use that expression, in speaking of the career of sweeney todd. it has been most horrible; but there cannot be a doubt of his expiating his crimes upon the scaffold, together with his partner in guilt, mrs. lovett."

mark ingestrie gave a shudder as that woman's name was mentioned, for it put him in mind of the cellar where he had lived so long, and where it was only by the most good fortune that he had not terminated his career.

before they could say any more, one of the officers in attendance upon sir richard, announced colonel jeffery.

"ah, that is your dreadful military rival," said sir richard to ingestrie. "that is the gentleman whom you saw in the garden of the temple with johanna."

"i have much to thank him for. his conduct to johanna has been most noble."

the colonel smiled when he saw mark ingestrie and johanna, for he well knew, from private information he had got from the magistrate, that mark ingestrie and mrs. lovett's cook were identical; and holding out his hand to the young man, he said—

"accept of my best and sincerest wishes, mr. ingestrie."

"and you, sir," said mark, "accept of my best thanks. our gratitude is largely due to you, sir."

"i am quite repaid by this very happy result; and i have the pleasure of informing you, sir richard, that poor tobias is very much better indeed."

"which i am rejoiced to hear," said sir richard. "and now, my dear johanna, it is time for you to go home. you will hear from me in the morning, for i intend to do myself the pleasure of calling upon your father, and explaining all to him; for there are some circumstances that he is yet in ignorance of, and particularly concerning mr. ingestrie."

"i will walk with you to your door, johanna," said mark rising and tottering.

"no," said sir richard blunt; "that must not be to-night. do not let him, johanna. he is by far too weak and unwell to do anything of the kind. a calm and long night's rest here will do him a world of good. business prevents me from leaving the office; but i daresay the colonel will see johanna in safety."

"with pleasure," said colonel jeffery, "if mr. ingestrie has no objection to my doing so."

"sir," said mark, "there is no one in all the world that i would more cheerfully see protecting my johanna. i feel that i am in too great a state of exhaustion to go out. i leave her to your care, sir."

"that is right," said sir richard blunt. "now, good-night, johanna, and god bless you. you will see me in the morning, recollect."

mark ingestrie took a parting embrace of johanna, and then she went off with the colonel, who, on their road home, told her how he and arabella had got so far as to fix their wedding day, and how he should not feel at all happy unless both she and mark ingestrie were at the ceremony.

"indeed, he hoped," he said, "that they might give the parson only one trouble, by being married upon the same occasion."

johanna warded this last part of the colonel's speech; but she was fervent in her hopes that he and arabella would be so very happy, and in her praises of her young friend; so in very pleasant discourse indeed, they reached the old spectacle-maker's shop, and then the colonel shook hands with johanna, and bade her a kind and friendly adieu, and she was let in by—to her immense surprise—her mother!

mrs. oakley fell upon johanna's neck in a passion of tears, crying—

"come, my child—come to your mother's heart, and tell her that you forgive her for much past neglect and unkindness."

"oh, mother," said johanna, "do not speak so. there is nothing to forgive; and if you are happy and we are all good friends, we will never think of the past."

"that's right, my dear," said mr. oakley, from the passage; "that's right, my love. come in, both of you." but it is necessary that we should briefly state how it was that this wonderful change in the behaviour of mrs. oakley came about, and for that purpose we must retrace our steps a little.

the reader will be so good as to recollect that the last time mrs. oakley was introduced to his notice she was encumbered by mr. lupin, and had the pleasure of introducing that gentleman to the notice of big ben the beef-eater, who had quickly put all idea of escape out of the question, as regarded that highly religious personage.

at that point the presence of other events compelled us to leave the lady, and repair to todd's shop, and to mrs. lovett's little concern in bell yard.

the appearance of lupin's face when he found that he was in the grasp of big ben, would have been quite a study for a painter. it transcended all description, and for the moment seemed as if he were bidding farewell to this world and to all his iniquities in it, without the intervention of the law. but in a few moments he recovered from this condition, and sliding on to his knees, and in a whining tone, he cried—

"mercy, mercy! oh, let me go!"

"at the end of a rope," said big ben. "easy does it. what has he been and done, mrs. o.?"

"murder, murder!"

a crowd of people soon began to collect around them, and then lupin made an effort to thrust himself out of the grasp of big ben, but the only result of the effort was very nearly to strangle himself.

"you are killing the man, you great brute!" cried a woman. "you are throttling the poor man."

"he will be murdered," shouted another female. "oh, you great wretch, do you want to take his life?"

"listen to me," said mrs. oakley. "he has murdered his poor wife, and that is the reason i have asked that he should be held tight."

"murdered his wife!" exclaimed about twelve females in chorus. "murdered his wife? then hanging is a great deal too good for him. hold him tight, sir, do. oh, the wretch!"

the tide of popular feeling fairly turned against mr. lupin, and big ben had as much difficulty now in preserving the half dead wretch from popular fury as if he had been accused of any other crime, he might have had to prevent popular sympathy from aiding his escape.

"oh!" cried one lady, of rather extensive proportions, who was the wife of a baker, "i should like to have him in a brisk oven for an hour and a half."

"and i," said the lady of a butcher, "would see him slaughtered without so much as winking at him."

"and serve him right, the wagabone!" cried big ben. "come along, will you, you ill-looking scarecrow! easy does it. will you walk? oh, very well, don't. who are you?"

a little man with a constable's staff in his hand, rushed before ben, crying out—

"what is it? what is it? i'm a constable. what is it?"

"murder!" said mrs. oakley. "i give that man in charge for murdering his wife. i saw him do it."

"that will do," said the constable. "give him to me. i'll take him. he dare not resist me. i'll have him."

big ben looked at the constable and then he shook his head, as he said very gravely—

"i tell you what it is, my little man, you ain't fit to tussle with such a fellow as this—i'll take him along for you. where is he to go?"

"to the round-house, in course; but i'm a constable. i must take him—i will take him! give him to me, sir, directly—i will have him—i must go with him!"

"wait a minute," said ben. "easy does it! you must go with him, you say? very good—easy does everything!"

with this, ben grasped mr. lupin round the middle, and placed him under his left arm, and suddenly pouncing, then, upon the constable, he caught him up and placed him under the right arm; and then away he walked, to the admiration of the populace, and paying about as much attention to the kicking of the constable and the kicking of mr. lupin, as though they were two dogs that he was carrying home.

and so the murderer was taken to the round-house, where mrs. oakley duly preferred the charge against him, and promised to substantiate it before a magistrate when called upon so to do.