CHAPTER XXI.
THE NIGHT AT THE MADHOUSE.
When Sweeney Todd had, with such diabolical want of feeling, whispered the few words of mockery which we have recorded in Tobias’s ear, when he was carried out of Mr. Fogg’s reception-room to be taken to a cell, the villanous barber drew back and indulged in rather a longer laugh than usual.
“Mr. Todd,” said Fogg, “I find that you still retain your habit of merriment; but yours ain’t the most comfortable laugh in the world, and we seldom hear anything equal to it, even from one of our cells.”
“No!” said Sweeney Todd, “I don’t suppose you do, and for my part I never heard of a cell laughing yet.”
“Oh! you know what I mean, Mr. Todd, well enough.”
“That may be,” said Todd, “but it would be just as well to say it for all that. I think, however, as
