Mrs. Ragg could hardly do so for her tears, but she managed to stammer out—
"Tobias, do you recollect when your father bought you the rabbit, and out of vexation, the creature eat its way out of a willow-work cage in the night? Do you remember your poor father's funeral, Tobias, and how we went, you and I, my poor boy, to take the last look at the only one who—who—who—"
Mrs. Ragg could get no further.
"Ha—ha—ha!" laughed Tobias, "who told of Todd?"
"Who is this Todd," said the surgeon, "that he continually speaks of, and shudders at the very name of?"
Colonel Jeffery glanced at Sir Richard Blunt, and the latter, who wished the affair by no means to transpire, merely said—
"We are quite as much in the dark as you, sir. It is just what we should like to know, who this Todd is, whose very name seems to hold the imagination of this poor boy in a grasp of iron. I begin to think that nothing more can be done now."
"Nothing, gentlemen, you may depend," said the surgeon. "How old is the lad?"
"Sixteen as never was," replied Mrs. Ragg, "and a hard time I had of it, sir, as you may suppose."
The surgeon did not exactly see how he was called upon to suppose anything of the sort; however he made no further remark to Mrs. Ragg, but continued in conversation for some time with Colonel Jeffery, who informed him that Tobias should remain for a time where he was, so that there should be every possible chance given for his recovery.