The fire blazed up, and Todd at that moment had no further excuse for abusing Charley. With a sulky growl, he said—
"You can call me out if any one comes," and then he retired to his back parlour, closing and locking the door as usual.
The morning felt rather raw, and Johanna was glad to warm her hands at the fire in the shop, which soon burnt brightly; but she did not venture upon keeping up a bright blaze for long. Todd's mode of managing the fire, was always to keep a dry turf smouldering upon the top of it, from which ample heat enough was emitted to keep the shaving-pot upon the simmer. She now placed upon the fire one of those turfs, a small pile of which were always ready in the corner of the shop.
She had scarcely done so, when the shop door opened, and a man walked in.
"Is Mr. Todd in, my little man?" he said.
"Yes, sir. Do you wish to see him?" Johanna wished, if it were possible, to discourage visitors, but the man sat down at once in the shaving chair, and placed his hat upon the floor, adding as he did so—
"Yes, a right down good shave I want. As good as if St. Dunstan himself wanted one."
The manner in which the man pronounced the words St. Dunstan was so marked that Johanna felt convinced at once he was a friend, and she felt quite a gush of pleasure at the thought that Sir Richard Blunt had such a continual supervising eye upon her safety.
She felt that she must not look at this man otherwise than as a stranger. She felt that the least word of recognition might be fatal both to him and to her. She knew that Todd had some small orifice through which from his parlour he peeped into the shop, and that his eye was now upon her she did not doubt.
"I will call Mr. Todd, sir," she said in a moment. "He is close at hand."