The man went away swearing; and scarcely had he crossed the threshold, when a letter was brought by a lad, and handed to Todd. Before he could ask any questions, the lad was gone.
Todd held the letter in his hand, and glared at the direction. It was to him, sure enough, and written in a very clerk-like hand, too. Before he could open it, some one hit the door a blow upon the outside, and it swung open.
"Is this Todd's, the barber?"
"Yes," said Johanna.
"Then give him that letter, little chap, will you?"
"Stop!" cried Todd. "Stop. Where do you come from, and who are you? Stop, you rascal. Will you stop? Confound you, I wish I had a razor at your throat."
CHAPTER LXXXVI.
TODD RECEIVES TWO EXTRAORDINARY LETTERS, AND ACTS UPON THEM.
Todd looked the picture of amazement.
"Two letters!" he muttered, "two letters to me, who seldom receive any? To me who have no acquaintances—no relations? Bah! It must be some mistake, or perhaps, after all, some infernal nonsense about the parish."
He tore open the last received one, and read as follows:—