"Hilloa!" cried one of the police. "Why did you not wait for us when we first called to you?"
"We did," said the old man, "as soon as we saw your light, and knew what you were; but there are so many jokes played off upon the river, that if we were to rest-oars to everybody who call—'Boat a-hoi,' we should have enough to do."
"Who are you?"
"A couple of regestered watermen. Here we are. You can overhaul us at once, if you like."
"You have no passenger?"
"No. I only wish we had. Times are very bad."
"Well, it's all right. But we are placed here by the orders of Sir Richard Blunt the magistrate, who suspects that the notorious murderer, Sweeney Todd, may try to escape by the Thames."
"Sweeney Todd!" cried the young waterman in a tone of horror. "What, the fellow that killed all the people in Fleet Street, and made them into pies?"
"The same."
"It's coming now," thought Todd. "It's coming now. They will tell him where I am."