.\ !^£i^ - LIBRARY JNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE ^■^^f^^3.§:-j^MlM UKIYERSITY OF CALiFCRNIA RIVERSIDE COLLECTION or BKITISH AUTHORS. VOL. LXXX. TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR BY SAMUEL WAREEN. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. TEN THOUSAND A~YEAR. BY SAMUEL WARREN. F.R.S. AUTHOR OP "THK MARY OF A LATE I'HYSICIAN. 77//S NEW EDITION. CAHEFULLY REVISED. IS THE ONLY ONE SANCTIONED BY THE AUTHOR FOR CONTINENTAL CIRCULATION. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LEIPZIG BERNHAKD TAUCHNITZ 184 5. T4vr Fortuna s;i3vo Iseta iiegotio, ct Ludiiin insolentom ludere pcrtinax, Transmutat iiicertos honores, Nunc milii, nunc alii benigna. Laudo manentcm. Si celeres quatit Pennas, resigno qua; dedit , ct mea Virtute me involve, probamque Pauperieni sine dote quxro. Horace. TO EMILY, A LITTLE BLDR-EYKn LAUGHING IIUAGB or PURITY AM) HAPPINKSS, TUKSB VOLUMRS AKP. INSCRIBED , AS A SLIGHT MEMURIAL OF A father's affection FOR AN ONLY DAUGHTER. October, 1841. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. Thk Aulhor of this Work begs gratefully to express his conviction that no small share of any success which it may have met with, is attributable to the circumstance of its having had the advantage of an introduction to the public through the medium of Blacktvood's Magazine — a distinguished periodical, to which he feels it an honour to have been, for a time , a contributor. One word, only, he ventures to offer, with reference to the general character and tendency of "Ten Thocsand a-Year." He has occasionally observed if spoken of as "an amusing and laughable " story ; but he cannot help thinking that no one will so characterize it, who may take the trouble of reading it throughout, and be capable of comprehending its scope and object. Whatever may be its defects of execution , it has been written in a grave and earnest spirit ; with no attempt whatever to render it acceptable to ?nere novel-readers ; but with a steadfast view to that development and illustration, whether humorously or otherwise, of principles, of character, and of conduct, which the aulhor had proposed to himself from the first, in the hope that he might secure the ap- probation of persons of sober, independent, and experienced judgment. Literature is not the Author's profession Having been led, by special circumstances only, to commence writing this work, he found it impossible to go on, without sacrificing to it a large portion of the time usually allotted to repose, at some little cost both of health and spirits. This was, however, indispensable, VIII in order to prevent ils interference witli his professional avocations. It has been written, also, under certain other considerable dis- advantages — which may account for several imperfections in it during its original appearance. The periodical interval of leisure which his profession allows him, has enabled the Author, how- ever, to give that revision to the whole, which may render it worthier of the public favour. He is greatly gratified by the re- ception which it has already met with , both at home and abroad ; and in taking a final and a reluctant leave of the public , ventures to express a hope, that this work may prove to be an addition, however $mall and humble, to the stock of healthy English literature. London, October \%M. %* For the beautiful verses entitled "Peace," (at page 223, Vol. I.) the Author is indebted to a friend - (W. S.) PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION. Notwithstanding this Work's having had to compete, until the recent statute protecting British copyright against foreign piracy, with spurious editions, surreptitiously introduced, to a very serious extent, into this country from abroad; and also not- withstanding its having originally appeared in a periodical of such great circulation as that of Blackwood's Magazine; so very large an impression of the former Edition of this work has been ex- hausted, that the present may be regarded as being, though no- minally the second, virtually the third , or e\eafoiirth Edition. Deeply grateful for so considerable a measure of public favour, the Author has bestowed uncommon pains upon the final revision ofit. Inconsequence, also, of numerous suggestions and applica- tions, he has taken the opportunity of elucidating some of the many legal topics contained in the work, by short popular notes, which he trusts will, to the non-professional reader, repay the trouble of perusal, and enable him more easily to understand the somewhat complex and elaborate plot of the story. One of the Authors objects was, however imperfectly he may have succeeded in attaining it, to illustrate the working of some of the chief ma- chinery of English law, in dealing with the most importantand even vital interests of individuals, and of society. He has reason to know that in America, and also in France and Germany, (where the Work has been faithfully translated , and had a very large cir- culation,) this portion of it |^s attracted a degree of attention, which he trusts will not be lessened by the information contained in the notes to the present Edition, as to the changes and improve- ments effected in the English law, since the times la which the events of the story are supposed to have taken place. Other and more important objects the Author had in view in originally framing the story, which it were, however, needless here to specify. It must henceforth speak for itself; and the Author, in finally parting with it, earnestly and humbly hopes that it may afford its readers innocent amusement, and occa- sionally, even instruction. Ikner Temple, London, February 1845. TEN THOUSAND A- YEAR. CHAPTER I. Abodt ten o'clock one Sunday morning, in the month of July 18 — , the dazzling sunbeams, which had for several hours irra- diated a Utile dismal back attic in one of the closest courts ad- joining Oxford Street, in London, and stimulated with ihcir intensity the closed eyelids of a young man — one Tittlebat Titmouse — lying in bed, at length awoke him. He rubbed his eyes for some time, to relieve himself from the irritation occa- sioned by the sudden glare they encountered; and yawned and stretched his limbs with a heavy sense of weariness, as though his sleep had not refreshed him. He presently cast his eyes towards the heap of clothes lying huddled together on the back- less chair by the bedside , where he had hastily Ilung them about an hour after midnight; at which time he had returned from a great draper's shop in Oxford street, where he served as a shop- man, and where he had nearly dropped asleep, after a long day's work, in the act of putting up the shutters. He could hardly keep his eyes open while he undressed , short as was the time re- quired to do so; and on dropping exhausted into bed, there he had continued, in deep unbroken slumber, till the moment of his being presented to the reader. — He lay for several minutes, stretching, yawning, and sighing, occasionally casting an irre- solute glance towards the tiny lireplace, where lay a modicum of wood and coal, with a tinder-box and a match or two placed upon the hob, so that he could easily light his (ire for the pur- poses of shaving, and breakfasting. He stepped at length lazily out of bed, and when he felt his feet, again yawned and stretched himself. Then he lit his Ore, placed his bit of a kettle on the I'en Thviisund a-Year. 1. \ top of it , aud returned to bed , where he lay w ilh his eye fixed on the fire, watching the cracliling blaze iosimiate itself through the wood and coal. Once, however, it began to fail, so he had to get up and assist it, by blowing, and bits of paper; and it seemed in so precarious a state that he determined not again to lie down, but sit on the bedside: as he did, with his arms folded, ready to resume operations if necessary. In this posture he remained for some time, watching his little fire, and listlessly listening to the discordant jangling of innumerable church-bells, clamorously calling the citizens to their devotions. The current of thoughts passing through his mind , was something like the following : — '• Heigho ! — Lud , Lud ! — Dull as ditch water ! — This is my only holiday, yet I don't seem to enjoy it! — for I feel knocked up with my week's work! (A yawn). What a life mine is, to be sure! Here ami, in my eight-and-twentieth year, and for four long years have been one of the shopmen at Tag-rag & Co.'s, slaving from half-past seven o'clock in the morning till nine at night, and all for a salary of thirty-five pounds a-year, and my board! And Mr. Tag-rag — eugh! what a beast! — is always telling me how high he 's raised my salary ! ! Thirty-five pounds a-year is all I have for lodging, and turning out like a gentle- man! Ton my soul! it caii't last; for sometimes I feel getting desperate — such strange thoughts come into my mind ! — Seven shillings a-week do I pay for this cursed hole — (he uttered these words with a bitter emphasis, accompanied by a disgustful look round the little room) — that one couldn't swing a cat in without touching the four sides! — Last winter, three of our gents (?. e. his fellow-shopmen) came to tea with me one Sunday night; and bitter cold as it was, we four made this cussed dog-hole so hot, we were obliged to open the w indow ! — And as for accom- modation — I recollect I had to borrow two nasty chairs from the people below, who on the neit Sunday borrowed my only de- canter, In return, and, hang them, cracked it! — Curse me, say I, if this life is worth having! It 's all the very vanity of vanities — as it 's said somewhere in the Bible — and no mis- take! Fag, fag, fag, all one's days, and — what for? Thirty- 3 five pounds a-year, and '??o adcmicd' (Here occurred a pause and reverie, from which lie was roused by the clangour of the church-bells.) Bah , bells ! rinj; away till you 're all cracked ! — Now do you think / 'm going to be mewed iij) in church on this the only day out of the seven I 've got to sweeten myself in, and sniff fresh air? A precious joke that would be! (A. yawn.) Whew! — after all, I 'd almost as lieve sit here; for what 's the use of my going out?- Eyery body I see out is happy, excepting me, and the poor chajjs (hat are like me ! — Every body laughs when they sec me, and know that I 'm only a tallow-faced counter-jum- per — I know that 's the odious name we gents go by! — for whom it 's no use to go out — for one day in seven can't give one a bloom! Oh, Lord! what 's the use of being good-looking, as some chaps say I am?'' — Here he instinctively passed his left hand through a profusion of sandy-coloured hair, and cast an eye towards the bit of fractured looking-glass which hung against the wall, and had, by faithfully representing to him a by no means ugly set of features (despite the dismal hue of his hair) whenever he chose to appeal to it, afforded him more enjoyment than any other object in the world, for years. "Ah, by Jove! many and many 's the fine gal I 'vc done my best to attract the notice of, while I was serving her in the shop — that is , when I 've seen her get out of a carriage! There has been luck to many a chap like me, in the same line of speculation : look at Tom Tarnish — how did he get Miss Twang , the rich pianoforte-maker's daughter? — and no^o he 's cut the shop, and lives at Hackney, like a regular gentleman! Ah! that xvas a stroke! But somehow it hasn't an- swered with me yet; the gals don't take! How I have set my eyes to be sure , and ogled them ! — All of them don't seem to dislike the thing — and sometimes they '11 smile, in a sort of way that says I 'm safe — but it 's been no use yet , not a bit of it ! — My eyes! catch me, by the way, ever nodding again to a lady on the Sunday, that had smiled when I stared at her while serving her in the shop — after what happened to me a month or two ago in the Park! Didn't I feel like damaged goods, just then? But it's no matter, women are so different at different times! — Very likely I misniauaged the thing. By the way, what a precious puppy of a 1* 4 chap the fellow was that came up to her at the time she stepped out of her carriage to walk a bit! As for good looks — cut me to ribands (another glance at the glass) no; I a'n't afraid there, neither — but — heigho ! — I suppose he was , as they say , born with a golden spoon in his moulh, and had never so many a thousand a-year, to make up to him for never so few brains! He was uncommon well-dressed, though, I must own. What trowsers! — they stuck so natural to him, he might have been born in them. And his waistcoat, and satin stock — what an air! And yet, his figure was nothing wr?/ out of the way I His gloves, as while as snow; I 've no doubt he wears a pair of them a-day — my stars! that 's three-and-sixpence a-day ; for don't I know what they cost? — Whew ! if I had but the cash to carry on that sort of thing! — And when he 'd seen her into her carriage — the horse be got on ! — and what a lip-top groom — that chap's wages , I 'II answer for it , were equal to my salary ! (Here was another pause.) Now, just for the fun of the thing, only suppose luck was to befall me! Say that somebody was to leave me lots of cash — many thousands a-year, or something in that line! My stars! wouldn't I go it with the best of them! (Another long pause.) Gad, I really should hardly know how to begin to spend it! — I think, by the way, I 'd buy a title to set off with — for what won't money buy? The thing 's often done; there was a great pawn- broker in the city, the other day, made a baronet of, all for his money — and why shouldn't 1?" He grew a little healed with the progress of his reflections, clasping his hands with involun- tary energy, as he stretched them out to their fullest extent, to give effect to a very hearty yawn. "Lord, only think how it would sound! — "sir tittlebat titmouse, baronet;" or, " lord titmouse! ! " "The very first place I *d go to, after I 'd got my title, and was rigged out in Tight-fit's tip-top, should be — our cursed shop! to buy a dozen or two pair of white kid. Ah, ha! What a flutter there would be among the poor pale devils as were standing, just as ever, behind the counters, at Tag-rag and Co.'s when my carriage drew up , and I stepped, a tip-top swell, k into the shop. T.ig-rag would come and attend to me himself! No, he wouldn't — pride wouldn't let him. I don't know, though: what wouldn't he do to turn a penny, and make two and nine- pence into three and a penny? I shouldn't quite come Captain Stiff over him , I think, just at lirst; but I should treat him with a kind of an air, too, as if — hem! 'Ponmylife! how delightful ! (A sigh and a pause.) Yes, I should often come to the shop, (lad, it would be half the fun of my fortune! How they would envy me, to be sure! How one should enjoy il! I wouldn't thing of marnjiiii; till — and yet I won't say either; if I got among some of them out-and-outers — those lirst-rate articles — that lady, for instance, the other day in the Park — I should like to see her cut me as she did, with ten thousand a-year in my pocket! Why, she 'd be running after 7rte.' — or there's uo truth in novels, which I 'm sure there's often a great deal in. Oh, of course, I might marry whom I pleased! Who couldn't be got with ten thousand a-year? (Another pause.) I think I should go abroad to Russia directly; for they tell me there 's a n)aa lives there who could die this cussed hair of mine any colour I liked — and — egad! I 'd come home as black as a crow, and hold up my head as high as any of them ! While I was about it, I 'd have a touch at my eyebrows" — Crash here went all his castle- building, at the sound of his tea-kettle, hissing, whizzing, sputtering, in the agonies of boiling over; as if the intolerable heat of the fire had driven desperate the poor creature placed ii|)on it, which instinctively tried thus to extinguish the cause of its anguish. Having taken it off, and placed it upon the hob, and put on the fire a tiny fragment of fresh coal, he began to make preparations for shaving, by pouring some of the hot water into an old tea-cup, which was presently to serve for the purposes of breakfast. Then he spread out a bit of crumpled whily-brown paper, in which had been folded up a couple of cigars, bought overnight for the Sunday's special enjoyment — and as to which, if he supposed they had come from anyplace beyond the four seas, I imagine him to have been slightly mis- taken. He placed this bit of paper on the little mantelpiece; drew his solitary well-worn razor several times across the palm of his Icfl hand; dipped his brush , woru, within half an inch, to the stump, into the hot water; presently passed it over so much of his face as he intended to shave; then rubbed on the damp surface a bit of yellow soap — and in less than five minutes Mr. Titmouse was a shav ed man. But mark — don't suppose that he had performed an extensive operation. One would have thought him anxious to get rid of as much as possible of his abominable sandy-coloured hair. Quite the contrary! Every hair of his spreading whiskers was sacred from the touch of steel; and a bushy crop of hair stretched underneath his chin, coming curled out on each side of it, above his stock, like two little horns or tusks. An imperial — i. e. a dirt-coloured tuft of hair, permitted to grow perpendicularly down the under-lip of puppies — and a pair of promising mustaches, poor Mr. Titmouse had been com- pelled to sacrifice some time before, to the tyrannical whimsies of his vulgar employer, Mr. Tag-rag, who imagined them not to be exactly suitable appendages for counter-jumpers. Thus will it be seen that the space shaved over on this occasion was some- what circumscribed. This operation over, he took out of his trunk an old dirty-looking pomatum pot. A modicum of its cotitents, extracted on the tips of his two forefingers, he stroked carefully into his eyebrows; then spreading some on the palms of his hands, he rubbed it vigorously into his stubborn hair and whiskers for some quarter of an hour; afterwards combing and brushing his hair into half a dozen different dispositions — so fastidious in that matter was Mr. Titmouse. Then he dipped the end of a towel into a little water, and twisting it round his right forefinger, passed it gently over his face, carefully avoid- ing his eyebrows, and the hair at the top, sides, and bottom of his face, which he then wiped with a dry corner of the towel; and no further did Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse think it necessary to carry his ablutions. Had he, however, been able to "see him- self as others saw him," in respect of those neglected regions which lay somewhere behind and beneath his ears, he might not, possibly, have thought it superfluous to irrigate them with a little soap and water; but, after all, he knew best; it might have given him cold: and besides, his hair was very thick and long beliiiid, and niij^'lit perliiips conceal ;iny tliir)j,' lli.it was uusi{;lilly. Then Mr. Titmouse drew from underneath the bed a bottle of "incomparable blacking," and a couple of brushes; \>ith great labour and skill polisiiing his boots up to a wonder- ful degree of brilliancy. IIa>ing replaced his blacking imple- ments under the bed and washed his hands, he devoted a few momcDts to boiling about three tea-spoonfuls of coffee, (as it was styled on the paper from which he took, and in which he had bought, it — whereas it was, in fact, chicory). Then he drew forth from his trunk a calico shirt, with linen wristbands and collar, which had been worn only twice — i. e. on the pre- ceding two Sundays — since its last washing — and put it on, taking great care not to rumple a very showy front, containing three rows of frills; in the middle one of which he stuck three "studs," connected together with two little gilt chains, looking exceedingly stylish — especially when coupled with a span-new satin stock, which he next buckled round his neck. Having put on his bright boots, (without, I am really sorry to say, any stockings,) he carefully insinuated his legs into a pair of white trowsers, for the first lime since their last washing; and what with his short straps and high braces, they were so light that you would have feared their bursting if he should have sale down hastily. I am almost afraid that I shall hardly be be- lieved; but it is a fact, that the next thing he did was to attach a pair of spurs to his boots : — but , to be sure , it was not impos- sible that he might intend to ride during the day. Then he put on a queer kind of Hnder-waislcoat, which in fact was only a roll- collar of rather faded pea-green silk, and designed to set off a very fine flowered damson-coloured silk waistcoat; over which he drew a massive mosaic-gold chain, (to purchase which he had sold a serviceable silver watch,) which had been carefully wrapped up in colton wool; from which soft depository , also, he drew his ring , (those must have been sharp eyes which could tell, at a distance, and in a hurry, that it was not diamond,) which he placed on the stumpy little finger of his red and thick right hand — and contemplated its sparkle with exquisite satis- faction. Having proceeded thus far with his toilet, he sal down 8 lo his breakfast, spreading upon his lap the shirt which he had taken off, to preserve his white trowsers from spot or slain — his thoughts alternating between his late waking vision and his purposes for the day. He had no butter, having used the last on the preceding morning; so he was fain to put up with dry bread — and very dry and teeth-trying it was , poor fellow — but his eye lit on his ring! Having swallowed two cups of his quasi- coffee, (eugh ! such stuff!) he resumed his toilet, by drawing out of his other trunk his blue surtout, with embossed silk but- tons and velvet collar, and an outside pocket in the left breast. Having smoothed down a few creases, he put it on: — then, before his little vulgar fraction of a looking-glass, he stood twitching about the collar, and sleeves, and front, so as to make them sit well; concluding with a careful elongation of the wristbands of his shirt, so as lo show their whiteness gracefully beyond the cuff of his coat-sleeve — and he succeeded in pro- ducing a sort of while boundary line between the blue of his coat-sleeve and the red of his hand. At that useful member he could not help looking with a sigh, as he had often done before — for it was not a handsome hand. It was broad and red, and the fingers were thick and stumpy , with very coarse deep wrinkles at every joint. His nails also were flat and shapeless; and he used to be continually gnawing them till he had succeeded in getting them down to the quick — and they were a sight to set one's teeth on edge. Then he extracted from the first-mentioned trunk a while pocket handkerchief — an exemplary one , that had gone through four Sundays' show, (not tise , be it understood,) and yet was capable of exhibition again. A pair of sky-coloured kid gloves next made their appearance: which, however, showed such barefaced marks of former service as rendered indispensable a ten minutes' rubbing with bread crumbs. His Sunday hat, carefully covered with silver-paper, was next gently removed from its well-worn box — ah, how lightly and delicately did he pass his smoothing hand round its glossy surface! Lastly, he took down a thin black cane, wilh a gilt head, and full browQ tassel , from a peg behind the door — and his toilet was complete. Laying down his cane for a moment, he passed his hands again 9 throiip;h his hair, arranging it so as to fail nicely on each side beneath his hat, which he then placed upon his iiead, with an elegant inclination towards the leit side. He was really not bad- looking, in spite of his sandy-coloured hair. His forehead, to be sure, was contracted, and his eyes were of a ^ cry light colour, and a trifle too protuberant; but his mouth was rather well- formed, and being seldom closed, exhibited very beautiful teeth; and his nose was of that description which generally passes for a Roman nose. His countenance wore generally a smile, and was cxpressi\e of — self-satisfaction: and surely any expression is better than none at all. As for their bcitig the slightest trace of intellect in it, I should be misleading the reader if I were to say any thing of the sort. In height, he was about five feet and a quarter of an inch, in his boots, and he was rather strongly set, with a little tendency to round shoulders: — but his limbs were pliant, and his motions nimble. Here you have, then, Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse to the life — cer- tainly no more than an average sample of his kind ; but as he is to go through a considerable variety of situation and circum- stance, I thought you would like to have him as distinctly be- fore your mind's eye as it was in my power to present him. — Well — he put his hat on, as I have said; buttoned the lowest two buttons of his surtout, and stuck his white pocket handker- chief into the outside pocket in front, as already mentioned, anxiously disposing it so as to let a little appear above the edge of the pocket, with a sort of careful carelessness — a graceful contrast to tlie blue; drew on his gloves; took his cane in his hand; drained the last sad remnant of infusion of chicory in his coffee-cup; and, the sun shining in the full splendour of a July noon, and promising a glorius day, forth sallied this poor fel- low, an Oxford Street Adonis, going forth conquering and to conquer! Petty finery without, a pinched and stinted stomach within; a case of Back rer.?;/* Belly, (as the lawyers would have it,) the plaintiff winning in a canter! Forth sallied, I say, Mr. Titmouse, as also, doubtless, sallied forth tliat day some five or six thousand similar personages, down the narrow, creaking, close staircase, which he had no sooner quitted than he heard 10 exclaimed from an opposite window, "My eyes! a'n't that a swell I" He felt how true the observation was, and that at that moment he was somewhat out of his element ; so he hurried on, and soon reached that great broad disheartening street, apostrophized by the celebrated Opium-Eater,* with bitter feeling, as — -'Ox- ford Street! — stony-hearted stepmother! Thou that listenest to tb« sighs of orphans, and drinkest the tears of children!" Here, though his spirits were not just then very buoyant, our poor little dandy breathed more freely than when he was pass- ing through the wretched crowded court (Closet Court) which he had just quitted. He passed and met hundreds who, like himself, seemed released for a precious day's interval from miserable confinement and slavery during the week; but there were not very many of them who could vie with him in elegance of appearance — and that was indeed aluxurious reflection ! Who could do justice to the air with which he strutted along! He felt as happy, poor soul, in his little ostentation, as his Corin- thian rival in tip-top turn-out, after twice as long, and as anxious, and fifty times as expensive, preparations for effective public display! Xay. viy poor swell was in some respects greatly the superior of such an one as I have alluded to. Mr. Titmouse did, to a great degree, bedizen his back — but at the expense of his belly ; whereas, the Corinthian exqui?i!c, too often taking advantage of station and influence, recklessly both pam- pers his luxurious appetite within, and decorates his person ■without, at the expense of innumerable heart-aching creditors. I do not mean, however, to claim any real merit for Mr. Tit- mouse on this score, because I am not sure how he would act if he were to become possessed of his magnificent rival's means and opportunities for the perpetration of gentlemanly frauds on a splendid scale. — But we shall perhaps see by and by. Mr. Titmouse walked along with leisurely ste^; for haste and perspiration were vulgar, and he had the day before him. Ob- serve, now, the careless glance of self-satisfaction with which * Thomas De Quincey — a man whose genius and diversified and proroiind acquirements constitute him one of the most remarkable rueu of the age; and the book quoted in the text is worthy of him. 11 he occasionally regards his bright boots, with their martial ap- pendage, gi>ing out a faint clinking sound as he hca>iiy treads the broad Jlags; his spotless Irowsers, his light surloul , and the tip of white handkerchief peeping accidenlally out in front! A pleasant sight it was to behold him in a chance rencontre with some one genteel enough to be recognised — as he stood , resting on his left leg; his left arm stuck upon his hip; his right leg easily bent outwards; his right hand lightly holding his ebon cane, with the gilt head of which he occasionally tapped his teeth; and his eyes, half closed, scrutinizing the face and figure of each "pre//?/ g-a/" as she passed, and to whom he had a deli- cious consciousness that he appeared an object of interest! This was indeed happiness, as far as his forlorn condilioQ could admit of his enjoying happiness. — He had no particular object in view. A tiff over-night with two of his shopmales, had broken off a party which they had agreed the Sunday pre- ceding in forming, to go that day to Greenwich; and this trilling circumstance had a little soured his temper, depressed as had been his s|iirits before. He resolved, on consideration, to walk straight on , and dine somewhere a little way out of town, by way of passing the time till four o'clock, at which hour he intended to make his appearance in Hyde Park, "to see the swells and the fashions," which was his favourite Sunday occu- pation. His condition was, indeed, forlorn in the extreme. To say nothing of hisp?'0.7*<'c/* in life — what was his present condition? A shopman with thirty-live pounds a-year, out of which he had to find his clothing, washing, lodging, and all other incidental expenses — the chief item of his board — such as it was — being found him by his employers! He was five weeks in arrear to his landlady — a corpulent old termagant, whom nothing could have induced him to risk offending, but his overmastering love of finery; for I grieve to say, that this deficiency had been occa- sioned by his purchase of the ring he then wore with so much pride! How he had contrived to pacify her — lie upon lie he must have had recourse to — 1 know not. He was indebted also to his poor washerwoman in five or six shillings for at least a 12 quarter's wasliing; and owed five limes that amount to a little oldlailor, who, witli huge spectacles on his nose, turned up to him , out of a iillie cupboard which he occupied in Closet Court, and wiiich Titmouse had to pass whenever he went to or from his lodgings, a lean, sallow, wrinkled face, imploring him to "settle his small account." All the cash in hand which lie had to meet contingencies between that day and quarter-day, which was six weeks off, was about twenty-six shillings, of which he had taken one fur the present day's expenses! Ilevo!\ing these somewhat disheartening maltcrs in his mind, he passed easily and leisurely along the whole length of Oxford Street. >'o one could have judged from his dressy appearance the constant smirk on his face, and his conlident air, how very miserable that poor little dandy was; but thrce-fourlhs of his misery were really occasioned by the impossibility he felt of his ever being able to indulge in his propensities for finery and dis- play. Nolhing better had he to occupy his few thoughts. He had had only a plain mercantile education, as it is called, i.o, reading, writing, and arithmetic; beyond an exceedingly mode- rate acquaintance with these, he knew nothing whatever; not having read any thing except a few inferior novels, and plays, and sporting newspapers. Deplorable, however, as were his circumstances — "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." And probably, in common with most who are miserable from straitened circumstances , he often conceived , and secretly relied upon, the possibility of some unexpected and accidental change for the belter. lie had heard and read of extraordinary cases of LUCK. Why might he not be one of the lucky? A rich girl might fall in love with him — that was, poor fellow! in his con- sideration, one of Ihe least unlikely ways of luck's advent; or some one might leave him money; or he might win a prize ia the lottery; — all these, and other accidental modes of getting rich, frequently occurred to the well-regulated mind of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse; but he never once thought of one thing, viz. of determined, unwearying industry, perseverance, and integrity iu the way of his business, conducing to such a result! 13 Is his cnse a solitary one? — Dear reader, yoic may be unlike poor Tilllebat Titmouse in every respect except one! On he walked towards Cayswaler; and finding that it was yet early, and considering that the lurlhcr he went from town the belter prospect there would be of his being able, with little sacrilice of appearances, to get a dinner consistent with the means he carried about with him, viz. one shilling, he pursued his way a mile or two beyond Bayswater; and, sure enough, came at length upon a nice little public-house on the roadside, called the Squaretoes Arms. Very tired , and very dusty , he first sat down in a small back room to rest himself; and took the opportunity to call for a clothes-brush and shoe-brush, to relieve his clothes and boots from the heavy dust upon them. Having thus attended to his outer man, as far as circumstances would permit, he bethought himself of his inner man, whose cravings he presently satisfied with a pretty substantial mutton-pie and a pint of porter. This fare, together with a penny (which he i&h forced io give) to the little girl who wailed on him, cost him lenpence; and then, ha\ing somewhat refreshed himself, he began to think of returning to town. Having lit one of his two cigars, he sallied forth, pufTing along with an air of quiet enjoy- ment. Diimer, howc\cr hun)ble, seldom fails, especially when accompanied by a fair draught of tolerable porter, in some consi- derable degree to tranquillize the animal spirits; and that sooth- ing elTect began soon lo be experienced by Mr. Titmouse. The sedative cause he erroneously considered to be the cigar he was smoking; whereas in fad the only tobacco he had imbibed was from the porter. But, however that might be, he certainly returned towards town in a calmer and more cheerful humour than that in which he had quilled it an hour or two before. As he approached Cumberland Gate, it was about half past five; and the Park might be said to be at its acme of fashion , as far as that could be indicated by a sluggish streani of carriages, three and four abreast — coroneted panels in abundance — noble and well-known equestrians of bolli sexes , in troops — and some hundreds of pedestrians of the same description. So continuous was the throng of carriages and horsemen, that Titmouse did not 14 find it the easiest matter in the world to dart across to the foot- path in (he inner circle. That, ho\\ever, he presently safely accomplishei! , encountering no more serious mischance than the muttered "D — n your eyes!" of a haughty groom, between whom and his master Mr. Titmouse had presumed to intervene. W'iiata crowd of elegant women, many of them young and beau- tiful, (who but such, to be sure, would have become, or been allowed to become, pedestrians in the Park?) he encountered, as he slowly sauntered on, all of them obsequiously attended by brilliantbeaux ! Lords and ladies were here manifestly as plentiful as plebeians in Oxford Street. What an enchanted ground! — How delicious this soft crush and flutter of aristocracy ! Poor Titmouse felt at once an intense pleasure, and a withering con- sciousness of his utter insignificance. Many a sigh of dissatis- faction and envy escaped him; yet he stepped along with a tolerably assured air, looking every body he met straight in the face, and occasionally twirling about his little cane with an air which seemed to say — "Whatever opinion you may form of me, I have a very good opinion of myself." Indeed , was he not as much a man — an Englishman — as the best of them? What was the real differ- ence between Count Do-'em-all and Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse? Only that the Count had dark hair and whiskers , and ow ed more money than Mr. Titmouse's creditors could be persuaded to allow him to owe! Would to Heaven — thought Titmouse — that any otie tailor would patronise him as half a dozen had palronised the Count! If pretty ladies of quality did not disdain a walking ad- vertisement of a few first-rate tailors, like the Count, why should they turn up their noses at an assistant in an extensive wholesale and retail establishment in Oxford Street, conversant with the qualities and prices of the most beautiful articles of female attire? Yet alas, theyrf/rfso! — He sighed heavily. Leaning against the railing in a studied attitude, and eyeing wistfully each gay and fashionable equipage, with its often lovely, and sometimes haughty enclosure, as it rolled slowly past him, Mr. Titmouse became more and more convinced of a great practical truth, viz., that the only real distinction between mankind was that effocted by money. Want of money alone had placed him in his present abject posi- 15 tion. Abject indeed! By Ihe great folk, who were passing him on all sides, he felt, well-dressed as he believed himself to be, that he was no more noticed than as if he had been an ant, a blue- bottle fly, or a black beetle ! He looked, and sighed — sighed, and looked — looked, and sighed again, in a kind of agony of vain longing. While his only day in the week for breathing fresh air, and appearing like a gentleman in the world, was rapidly drawing to a close , and he was beginning to think of returning to the dog-hole he had crawled out of in the morning, and to the shop for the rest of the week; the great, and gay, and happy folk he was looking at, were thinking of driving home to dress for their grand dinners, and to lay out every kind of fine amusement for the ensuing week: and that, moreover, was the sort of life they led every day in the week ! He heaved a profound sigh. At that moment a superb cab, with a gentleman in it dressed in great elegance, and with very keen dark eyes, and striking nose and whiskers, came up with a cab of still more exquisite structure and appointments, and at which Titmouse gazed with unutterable feelings of envy — in which sat a young man , evidently of conse- quence; very handsome, with splendid mustaches; perfectly well-dressed; holding the reins and whip gracefully in hands glistening in straw-coloured kid gloves — and between the two gentlemen ensued the following low-toned colloquy , which it were to be wished that every such sighing simpleton (as Titmouse must, I fear, by this time, appear to the reader) could have overheard. "Ah, Fitz!" said the former-mentioned gentleman to the latter, who suddenly reddened when he perceived who had ad- dressed him. The manner of the speaker was execrably familiar and presumptuous— but how could the embarrassed swell help himself?— "When did you return to town?" "Last night only" — "Enjoyed yourself, I hope?" "Pretty well — but — I — suppose you" — "Sorry for it," interrupted the first speaker in a lowei tone, perceiving the vexation of his companion; "but can't help It, you know." "When?" IG "To-morrow at nine. Monstrous sorry for it — 'pon my soul, you really must look sharp, Filz, or the thing won't go on much longer." ' "Must it be, really?" enquired the other, biting his lips — at that moment kissing his hand to a very beautiful girl, who slowly passed him in a coroneted chariot — "must it really be, Joe?" he repeated, turning towards his companion a pale and bitterly chagrined countenance. "Poz, 'pon my life. Cage clean, however, and not very full — just at present" — "Would not Wednesday!" — enquired the olher, leaning for- ward towards the former speaker's cab, and whispering with aa air of intense earnestness. "The fact is, I 've engagements at C — 's on Monday and Tuesday nights with one or two country cousins, and 1 772fl^ be in a condition — eh? you understand?" His companion shook his head distrustfully. "Upon my word and honour as a gentleman, it's the fad!' said the other in a low vehement tone. "Then — say Wednesday, nine o'clock, a.m. You under- stand? No mistake, Fitz!" replied his companion , looking him steadily in the face as he spoke. "IS'one — honour!" — After a pause — "Who is it?" His companion took a slip of paper out of his pocket, and ia a whisper read from it — "Cab, harness, d-c, £297, lOs." "A\illain! It's been of only three years' standing," inter- rupted the other, in an indignant mutter. "Between ourselves, he w rather a sharp hand. Then, I'm sorry to say there 's a Detainer or two I have had a hint of" — The swell uttered an execration which I dare not convey to paper — his face distorted with an expression of mingled disgust, vexation, and haired; and adding, " Wednesday — nine" — drove oCf, a picture of tranquil enjoyment. I need hardly say that he was a fashionable young spend-thrift, and the other a sheriff's officer of the first water — the genteelest beak that ever was known or heard of — who had been on the look- out for him several days, and with \\hom the happy youngster was doomed lo sp-cnd some considerable time at a cheerful residence 17 in Chancery Lane, bleeding gold at every pore ihe while: — his only chance of avoiding' which , was, as he had truly hinted, an honourable attempt on the purses of two hospitable country cousins, in the meanwhile, at C — 's! And if he did not succeed in that enterprise, so that he viu.ft go to cage, he lost the only chance he had lor some time of securing an exemption from such annoyance, by entering Parliament to protect the liberties of the people — an eloquent and resolute cliampiuu of freedom ia tradt-, religion, and every thing else; and an abolitionist of every thing, including, especially, negro slavery and imprisonment for debt* — two execrable violations of the natural rights of mankind. But I have, for several minutes, lost sight of the admiring Titmouse. "Why," thought he, "am / thus spited by fortune? — The only thing she's given mo is — nothing! — D — w every thing!" exclaimed Mr. Titmouse aloud, at the same time starting olT, to the infinite astonishment of an old peer, who had been for some minutes standing leaning against the railing, close beside him; who was master of a maguilicent fortune, "with all appliances and means to boot;" with a fine grown-up family, his eldest son and heir hauug just gained a Double First, and promising Monders; possessing many mansions in different parts of Eng- land; a reputation for exquisite taste and accomplishment; and being the representative of one of the oldest families in Eng- land; but who at that moment loathed every thing and every body, including himself, because the minister had the day before intimated to him that he could not give him a vacant riband, lor which he had applied, unless he could command two more votes in the Lower House , and which at present fiis lordship saw no earthly means of doing. Yes, the Earl of Cheviotdale and Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse were both miserable men; both had been ' The legislature halh since shown many indications of agreement, with the opinion of my unhappy swell : having lately abolished arrest on mesne process altogether, as affording creditors too serious a chance of preventing the escape of a fraudulent debtor; and having still more re- cently made a step towards the abolition of arrest on ^««^ process! [1844.] Ten Thousand a-Year. J. 2 A 18 hardlv dealt wilh by fortune; both were greatly to be pitied; and both quilted the Park, about the same lime, with a decided mis- anthropic tendency. Mr. Titmouse walked along Piccadilly with a truly chopfallen and disconsolate air. He \ery nearly felt dissatislied even with his personal appearance! Dress as he would, no one seemed to care a curse for him; and, to his momentarily jaundiced eye, he seemed equipped in only second-hand and shabby finery: and then he was really such a /)oo/* de>il! — Do not, however, let the reader suppose that this was an unusual mood with Mr. Titmouse. IN'o such thing. Like the Irishman who, "married a wife for to make him iin-aisi/^ " and also not unlike the moth that will haunt the brightness which is her destruction; so poor Titmouse, Sun- day after Sunday, dressed himself out as elaborately as he had done on the present occasion, and then always betook himself to the scene he had just again witnessed, and which had once again eieited only those feelings of envy, bitterness, and despair, which I have been describing, and which, on every such occasion, he experienced with, if possible, increased intensity. What to do with himself till it should be line to return to bis cheerless lodgings he did not exactly know; so he loitered along at a snail's pace. He stood for some time staring at the passen- gers, their luggage, and the coaches they were ascending and alighting from, and listening to the strange uiedley of coach- mens', guards', and porters' vociferations , and passengers' greet- ings and leavetakings — always to be observed at the While Horse Cellar. Then he passed along, till a street row, near the Haymarket, attracted his attention and interested his feelings; for it ended in a regular set-to between two watermen attached to the adjoining coach-stand. Here he conceived himself looking on with the easy air of a swell; and the ordinary penalty (paying for his fooling) was attempted to be exacted from him; but he had nothing to be picked out of any of his pockets except that under his very nose, and which contained his white handker- chief! This over, he struck into Leicester Square, where, (he was in luck that night,) hurrying up to another crowd at the further end, he found a man preaching with iuilnite energy. 19 Jlr. Titmouse looked on, and listened for two or three minutes witli apparent interest; and then, with a countenance in which pity slru^'gled with contempt, muttered , loud enouj^h to be heard by all near hin) , "poor devil!" and walked oil". He had not pro- ceeded many steps, before it occurred to him that a friend — one Robert Huckaback , much such another one as himself— lived in cue of the narrow, dingy streets in the neighbourhood. He de- termined to take the chances of his being at home, and if so, of spending the remainder of the evening with him. Huckaback's quarters were in the same ambitious proximity to heaven as his own; the only difference being, that they were a trifle cheaper and larger. He answered the door himself, having only the moment before returned from his Sunday's excursion, — i. e. the Jack Straw's Castle Tca-Gardens, atUighgate, where, in com- pany with several of his friends, he had "spent a jolly after- noon." He ordered in a glass of negus from the adjoining public- house, after some discussion, which ended in an agreement that he should stand treat that night, and Titmouse on the ensuing Sunday night. As soon as the negus had arrived, accompanied by two sea-biscuits, which looked so hard and hopeless that they Mould have made the nerves thrill within the teeth of him that me- ditated attempting to masticate them , the candle was lit ; Hucka- back handed a cigar to his friend; and both began to puff away, and chatter pleasantly concerning the many events and scenes of the day. "Any thing stirring Id fo-day's 'Flash?'" enquiredTitmouse, as his eye caught sight of a copy of that able and interesting Sunday newspaper, the "Sunday Flash," which Huckaback had hired for the evening from the news-shop on the ground- floor of his lodgings. Mr. Huckaback removed his cigar from his mouth , and hold- ing it between the first and second fingers of his right hand, in a knowing style, with closed eyes and inllated cheeks, very slowly ejected the smoke which he had last inhaled , and rose and got the paper from the top of the drawers. "Here 's a mark of a beastly porter-pot that 's been set upon It, by all that 's holy! It 's been at the public-house! Too bad of 2« 20 Mrs. Coggs to send it me up in this state!" said he, handling it as though its touch were conlaniination. — (He was to pay only a halfpenny for the perusal of it.) "Faugh! how it stinks!"' "\\'hat a horrid beast she must be!" exclaimed Titmouse, after, in like manner as his friend, expelling his moulliful of smoke. "But, since better can't be had, let 's hear what news is in it. Demmee! it 's the only paper published, in my opinion, that 's worth reading ! — Any lights aslirring?" " Haven't come to them yet; give a man /me, Titty !" replied Huckaback, fixing his feet on another chair, and drawing the candle closer to the paper. "It says, by the way, that the Duke of Dunderhead is certainly making up to Mrs. Thumps, the rich cheesemonger's widow; — a precious good hit that, isn'tit? You know the Duke 's as poor as a rat ! " "Oh! that's no news. It's been in the papers for I don't know how long. Egad , 't will quite set him up — and no mis- lake. Seen the Duke ever?" "Ye — es! Oh, several times!" replied Huckaback. This was a lie, and Huckaback knew that it was. "Deuced good-looking, I suppose?" "Why — middling; I should say middling. Know 507we that needn't fear to compare with him — eh ! Tit?" — and Huckaback winked archly at his friend , meaning him, however, to consider the words as applicable to the speaker. "Ah, ha, ha! — a pretty joke! But come, that's a good chap ! — You can't be reading both of those two sheets at once — give us the other sheet, and set the candle right betwixt us! — Come, fair 's the word among gcTi/*, you know!" Huckaback thus a[ipcaled to, did as his friend repuested ; and the two gentlemen read and smoked for some minutes in silence. " Well — I shall spell over the advertisements now," said Tit- mouse very emphalicaily; "there 's a pretty lot of them — and 1 've read every thing else — (though precious little there is, here, besides !) — So , here goes ! — One may hear of a prime situation, you know — and I 'm quite sick of Tag-rag!" Another interval of silence ensued. Huckaback was deep in 21 llie gh.Tslly l)ul inslniclive details of a trial for murder; and Tiliiiuuse, after haviug glanced listlessly over the entertaining lirsl sheet of ad\crtiseiiieiils , was on the point of laying down his lialf of the paper, wlicn he suddenly started in his chair, turned very pale, and stammered — "Hollo! — hollo, JIucky!— Why" - " Wiiat 's the matter, Tit?— eh?" enquired Huckaback, greatly astonished. For a moment Titmouse made no answer, but, dropping his cigar, lixed ills eyes intently on the paper, which began to rustle in his trembling hands. What occasioned this outbreak, with its subsequent agitation , was the following advertisement, which appeared in the most conspicuous part of the "Sunday Flash:" — 'Next of Kin — Important. — The next of kin, if any such tliere be, of GABiuiiL Tnri-iiBAT Titmouse, formerly of White- haven , cordwaiuer, and who died somewhere about the year 171)3, in London, may hear of something of the greatest pos- sible importance to himself, or herself, or themselves, by im- mediately communicating with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, Solicitors, SalTron Hill. ISo lime is to be lost. ythJuly 18 — . — 7'//t' third adoerliserneiit." "By George! Here/* a go!" exclaimed Huckaback, almost as much (lustered as Titmouse over whose shoulder he had hastily read the above paragraph. "We aren't dreaming, Hucky — are we?" enquired Titmouse, faintly, his eyes still glued to the newspaper. " No — by George ! Never was either of us fellows so precious wide awake in our lives before! that I 'II answer for! " Titmouse sat still , and turned paler even than before. "Read it up , Uuck ! — Let 's hear how iisounds, and then we shall believe it!" said he, handing the paper to his friend. Huckaback read it aloud. "It sounds like something, don't it?" enquired Titmouse tremulously , his colour a little returning. "Uncommon ! — If this isn't somclhing , then there 's nothing in any iliingany more!" replied Huckaback solemnly, at the same lime emphatically slapping the table. 22 «» No ! — 'Pon my soul ! but do you really think so ? " said Tit- mouse , seeking still furllicr confirmation than he had yet derived from his senses of sight and hearing. "I do, by jingo!" repeated Huckaback — "What a go it is! — Well, my poor old mother used to say, 'depend on it, wonders never will cease;' and curse me if she ever said a truer ward ! " Titmouse again read over the advertisement; and then picking up and relighting his fragment of cigar, puffed earnestly in silence for some moments. " Such things never happens to such a poor devil of a chap as me!" exclaimed Huckaback, with a sigh. "What is in the wind, I wonder?" muttered Titmouse. "Who knows — hem! — who knows? — But now, really," —' he paused, and once more read over the pregnant paragraph. — " It can't — no , curse me , it ca?i't be " — he added , looking very serious. "What, Tit? /Hiat can't be?" interrupted Huckaback eagerly. "Why, I 've been thinking — but what do ?/o« think, eh? — it can't hardly be a cursed hoax of the chaps in the premises at Tag-rag's?'' " Bo ! — Is there any of 'era flush enough of money to do the thing? And how should they think it would ever come to be seen by you? — Then, besides, there isn't a chap among them that could come up to the composing a piece of composition like that — no, not for ail a whole year's salary — there isn't, by George! You and I couldn't do it, and, of course, /Ae^ couldn't! " "Ah! I don't know," said Titmouse doubtfully. "But — honour! — do you really now think there 's any thing in it?" "I do — I 'm blowed if I don't. Tit!" was the sententious answer. "Tol de rol, de rol, de rol , de rol — diddl'em — daddl'em — bang!" almost shouted Titmouse, jumping up, snapping his fingers, and dancing about in a wild ecstacy, which lasted for nearly a minute. "Gi\e me your hand, Hucky, " said he presently, almost 23 breathless. "If I a//i a made man — tol dc rol , lol de rol , lol de rol, lol! — you see, Huck! — if I don't give jou the haudsomesl breastpin jou ever saw! No paste! real diamond! — Hurrah! I will, by jingo!" llurkaback grasped and squeezed his hand. "We "ve always beenlVieuds, Til — haven't we?" said he, affectionately. "My room won't hold me to-night!" continued Titmouse; "1 'm sure it won't. I feel as if I was, as you may say, swelling all over. I'll walk the streets all night: I couldn't sleep a wink for the life of n)e ! I '11 walk about till the shop opens. Oh , faugh ! how nasty! Confound the shop, and Tag-rag, and everything and every body in it! Thirty-five pounds a-year! See if I won't spend as much in cigars the lirst month ! " "Cigars! Is that your go? Now, / should take lessons in boxing, to begin with. It 's a deuced high thing, you may depend upon it, and you can't be fit company for swells without it, Tit! You can't, by Jove !" "Whatever you like, whatever you like, Hucky!" cried " Titmouse — adding, in a sort of ecstacy , "I'm sorry to say it, but how prt'c ions lucky that my father and mother's dead, and that I 'm an only child — too-ra-laddy , too-ra-laddy ! " Here he took such a sudden leap, that I am sorry to say he split his trowsers very awkwardly, and that sobered him for a moment, while they made arrangements for cobbling it up as well as might be, with a needle and thread which Huckaback always had by him. "We 're rather jumping in the dark a-bit, aren't we, Til?" enquired Huckaback, while his companion was repairing the breach. "Let's look what it all means— here it is." He read it all aloud again — " ' greatest possible impoi'lance!' — what can it mean? Why the deuce couldn't they speak out plainly?" "What! in a newspaper? Lord, Hucky! how many Tit- mouses would start up on all sides, if there isn't some already indeed ! 1 wonder what ' greatest possible importance' can mean, now !" "Some one 's left you an awful lot of money, of course" — "It 's too good to be true" — "Or you may have made a smite; you a'u't such a bad-looking 24 fellow, when you 're dressed as you are now — you a'n't indeed, Tilly!" Mr. Titmouse was quile (luslered willi the mere sup- posilioQ, aud also looked as sheepish as his leatures would admit of. "E-e-e-eh, Hucky ! how ve-ry silly you are!" he simpered. "Or you may he louiid oul heir to some great property , and all that kind of thing. — But when do you intend to go to Messrs. W'hat's-lhcir-name? I should say, the sooner the better. Come, you 've stitched them trowsers well enough, now; they '11 hold you till you get home, (you do brace up uncommon tight !) aud I 'd take otV my straps, if I was you. Why shouldn't we go to these geulsnow? Ah, here they are — Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, solicitors." "I wonder if they 're great men? Did you ever hear of them before?" "Haven't I! Their names is always in this same paper; they are every day getting people off out of all kinds of scrapes — they 're the chaps / should nat'rally go to if I anyhow got wrong — ahem !" "But, my dear fellow -.- Saffron Hill! — Low that — devilish low , 'pon my soul ! Never was near it in my life." "But they live there to be near the thieves. Lud, the thieves couldn't do without 'em! But what 's that to you! You know 'a very dirty ugly toad has often got a jewel in his belly,' so Shakspeare or some one says. Isn't it enough for you , Tit , if they can make good their advertisement? Let 's otf, Tit — let 's off, I say ; for you mayn't be able to get there to-morrow — your employers! " — "My employers! Do you think, Hucky, I 'm going back to business after this?" "Come , come , Titty — not so fast — suppose it all turns out moonshine, after all" — quoth Huckaback, seriously. " Lord , but I toon't suppose any thing of the sort ! It makes me sick to Ihink of nothing coming of it ! — Let 's go off at once, and see what 's to be done ! " So Huckaback put the newspaper into his pocket, blew out the caudle, aud the two started on their imporlaut errand. It was well that their means had been too liriiitcd to allow of their indulging to a greater extent than a glass of port-wine negus (that was llie name under which they had drunk (he ''publican's port" — i.e. a warm sweetened decoction of oak bark, logwood shavings, and a little brandy) between them; otherwise, excited as were the feelings of each of them by the discovery of the evening, they must in all |)robabilily have been guilty of some piece of extravagance in the streets. As it was, they talked very loudly as they went along, and in a tone of conversation pitched perhaps a little too high for their present circumstances, however in unison it might be with the expected circumstances of onp of them. In due time they reached the residence of which they were in search. It was a large house, greatly superior to all its dingy neighbours; and on a bright brass plate, a yard long at least, and a foot wide, stood the awe-inspiring words, "Quirk, Gammon, «S:Snap, Solicitors." "Now, Til," whispered Huckaback, after Ihey had paused for a second or two — "now for it — pluck up a sperrit — ring ! " "I — I — 'pon my life — I feel all of a sudden uncommon funky — I think that last cigar of yours wasn't" — "Stuff, Tit— ring! ringaway! Faint heart never wins!" "Well, it must be done; so — here goes at any rate!" he replied; and with a short nervous jerk, he caused a startling clatter within , which was so distinctly audible without , that both of them instinctively liemnied , as if to drown the noise which was so much greater than they had expected. In a very few moments they heard some one undoing the fastenings of the door, and the gentlemen looked at one another with an exjiression of mingled expectation and apprehension. A little old woman at length, with a candle in her hand, retaining the heavy door-chain in its fastening, peered round the edge of the door at them. "Who are you?" she exclaimed , crustily. "Is thisMessrs.— What isit, Huck? — Oh! Messrs. Quirk & Co.'s?" enquired Titmouse, tapping the end of his cane against his chin , with a desperate effort to appear at his ease. "Why, where 's your eyes?" she replied angrily, "I should 26 think you might have seen what was wrote on this here plate — it 's large enough , one should have thought, to be read by them as can read — Is your's Newgate business? Because if" — "We want — Give us the paper, Hucky" - he added, address- ing his companion, who produced it in a moment ; and Titmouse would have proceeded to possess the old lady of all his little heart, when she cut him short by saying, snappishly — "They aren't none on 'em in ; nor never is on Sundays — so you 'II just call to- morrow if you wants 'em. What's your names?" "Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse," answered that gentleman, with a very particular emphasis on every syllable. ''Mr. who?" exclaimed the old woman, opening her eyes, and raising her hand to the back of her ear. Mr. Titmouse repeated his name more loudly and distinctly. "Tippetylippety ! — what 's that?" "No, no!" exclaimed Titmouse peevishly; "I said, Mr. Tit- el-bat Tit-mouse! — will that suit you?" "Tick-a-tick-a-tick? — Well, gracious! if ever I heard such a name. Oh ! — I see ! — you 're making a fool of me ! Get olf, or I 'II call a constable in! — Get along with you, you couple of jail-birds! Is this the way " — "I tell you," interposed Mr. Huckaback angrily, "that this gentleman's name ?5 Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse; and you'd better take care what you 're at , old woman , for we 've come on business of loital consequence ! " "I dare say it'll keep, then, till to-morrow," tartly added the old woman. The friends consulted for a moment, and then Titmouse asked if he might come in and write a letter to Messrs. Quirk and Co. "No indeed! ' said she; "how do I know who you are? There 's a public-house close by, where you may write what you like, and bring it here, and they '11 get it the first thing in the morning. So that's what you may take away with you!" — with which the complaisant old janitrix shut the door in their face. "Huck, 'ponmylife, I am afraid there 's nothing in it," said 27 Titmouse, (icspondingly, to liis friend — both of them remaining rooted to the spot. '• Oudacious old toad !"' muttered Huckaback indignantly. "Ilucky — I 'm sure there 's nothing in it!" exclaimed Tit- mouse afler a long pause, looking earnestly at his friend, hoping to draw from him a contrary opinion. "I — I own I don't half like the looks of it," replied Hucka- back, putlin' his newspaper into his pocket again ; "but we '11 try if we can't write a letter to sound 'em , and so far take the old creature's advice. Here 's the public-house she told us of. Come, let 's see what 's to be done ! " Titmouse, greatly depressed, followed his friend; and they soon provided themselves with two glasses of stout, and aftera littly dilTiculty, with implements for writing. That they made good use of their time and materials, let the following epistle prove. It was their joint composition , and here is an exact copy of it : — "To Messrs. Quirk , Gammon ayid Snap. "Sir, - "Your Names being Put In an Advertisement in This pre- sent Sunday Flash, Newspaper of To Day's Dale, Mr. T. T. Begs To inform Your respectable House I feel Uncommon anxious To speak with them On This /;•?//// i/ilcrrstinfi- s//l/Jrcf, seeing It mentions The Name Of Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse, which Two last Names Of That Deceased Person my Own Name /*. which can /1/iy Day (As soon As Possible) call and pi-ove To you. By telling you The Same, truly. He being En- gaged in Business During the week Very close , (for The Present ,) I hope that If they Have Any thing particular To say To Him, Ihey will write To me without The least Delay, and please ad- dress T. T., At Tag-rag and Co.'s, Nr. 375, Oxford Street, Post-Paid, which will ensure Its Being duly Taken In By my Employers, and am, "Gents, "Your's to Command, "Tittlebat TiTMOL'SE. 28 "P. S. — M\ Friend, which Is With me \\ritingTIiis, (Mr. Robert Huckaback,) can prove who I am If ncccssiatcd so to do. "N. B. — Shall have no objections to do the Liberal Thing if any thing suitable turns Up Of It. "T. T. '' {Sunday Evening , 9/7/18—. "Forgot to Say, am The only Child of my Honoured Parents, one of wiiich (my Mother) Died ; before I knew them lo Lawful Wedloc, and "Was 27 last Birth Day, Never having Seen your Advertisement Till This Night, wl", if Necessary can Prove.)" This perspicuous and truly elegant performance having beea thrice subjected to the critical examination of the friends, (the paragraph concerning Huckaback haAJng been inserted at the instance of that gentleman, who wished to be mixed up from the beginning with so promising an affair,) was then folded up, and directed to "Messrs. Quirk and Co.," a great straggling wel wafer having been first put upon it. It was safely deposited, a few minutes afterwards, with the old lady at Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's; and then the two West-End gentlemen hastened away from that truly plebeian part of the town ! Under three different gas-lights did they stop, take out the newspaper, and spell over the advertisement; by which ingenious processes they at length succeeded in satisfying themselves that there xvas something in it — a factof which, upon the old woman shutting the door in their faces , it may be recollected they had had grievous misgivings. They parted, however, with a considerable abate- ment of the excitement with which they had set out on their voyage of discovery. Mr. Titmouse did not, on reaching his room, take off and lay aside his precious Sunday apparel with his accustomed care and deliberation. On the contrary, he peeled it off , as it were, and threw himself on the bed as quickly as possible, in order that he might calmly revohe the immense event of the day in 20 bis little mind, which it had agitated like a stone thrown into a slagnant pool by the road-side. Oh, how restless was he! — not more so could he have been had he lain belween horse-hair slicels. He re[K"atc(ilY got up and walked about two or three little steps, which were all that his room admitted of. At the very lirst peep of da\lighl he started out of bed, got out of his pocket the newspaper which Huckaback had lent him, strove to decipher the advertisement, and then sunk into bed again — but not to sleep, till four or live o'clock ; having nevertheless to rise at half-past six, to resume his detested duties at Tag-rag and Co.'s, whose shop he assisted in opening at seven o'clock, as usual. When he and his shopniates were silling lugelhcr at breakfast, he could not for the life of him help letting out a little, vaguely and mysteriously, about "something that mi^ht happen in the course of the day;" and thereby succeeded in satisfying his experienced companions that he expected the visit of a policeman, for some row he had been concerned in over- night. — Well: — eight, nine, ten o'clock wore away heavily, and nothing transpired, alasl to vary the monotonous duties in which Mr. Titmouse was engaged; bale after bale, and package alter package, he took down and put up again, at the bidding of pretty, capricious, customers; silk, satin, bombasins, crapes, muslins, ribands, gloves, he assisted in displaying, disposing of, or replacing as usual ; but it was clear that his powerful under- standing could no longer settle itself, as before , upon his respon- sible and arduous duties. Every other minute he cast a feverish furtive glance towards the door. He almost dropped , at one lime, as a postman crossed from the opposite side of the street, as if to enter their shop — then passing on immediately, however, to the next door. Kot a person, in short, entered the pcemises, whom he did not scrutinize narrowly and anxiously, but in vain. No — buying and selling was the order of the day, as usual! — Eleven o'clock struck, and he sighed. "You don't seem well ," said a pretty young woman, to whom, in a somewhat absent manner, he was exhibiting and describing the qualities of some cambric. "Oh — ye — es, uncommon! " he replied; "never bet-« ter, Ma'am, than when so well employed!" accompanying the no lalter words vith \shaf be conceived lo be a very arch , but which was in fact a very inipudeut, look al his fair customer. At that moment a voice called out to him Iroin the further end of the shop, near the door — "Titmouse! Wanted'" "Coming!" he shouted, turning as white as the cambric he held in his hands — which became suddenly cold; while his heart went tluinip , iliump, as he hastily exclaimed to the astonished lady, "Excuse me, Ma 'am , if you please — Jones," addressing the shopman next him, "will you attend to his lady?" and he hastened wliilher he had been called , amidst a prevalent grin and "hem!" from his companions on each side, as he passed along the shop, till he reached the spot where stood the stranger who had enquired for him. He was of a slight and gentlemanly figure, above the average height. His countenance was very striking: he was dressed with simplicity — somewhat carelessly perhaps; and appeared somewhere about thirly-six or thirty-seven years of age. He bowed slightly as Titmouse approached him , and an air of very serious surprise came over his expressive countenance. "Mr. Titmouse?" he enquired, blandly. "Ye-e-s,Sir, at your service," replied Titmouse, trembling involuntarily all over. The stranger again slightly inclined towards him, and — still more slightly — touched his hat; lixingonhim, at the same time, an inquisitive penetrating eye, which really abashed, or rather perhaps alarmed him. '• Y'ou left — you favoured us by leaving — a note at our office last night, Sir, addressed to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap?" he enquired, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Yes, Sir, hoping it was no" — "Pray, Mr. Titmouse, can we be alone for about five or lea minutes?" 'I — I — don't exactly know, here. Sir; I 'm afraid — against the rules of the house — but I '11 ask. Here is Mr. Tag-rag. — May I step into the cloak-room with this gentleman for a few minutes, Sir?" he continued, addressing his imperious employer, who, with a pen behind his right ear, his left hand in his breeches pocket, and his right hand impatiently tweedling about his watch- seals , had followed Titmouse, on hearing hira enquired for ia the 31 manner I have described, and stood at a yard or two's distance, cjeinj,' llie two with a truculent dissatisfied iooii, wondering what on earth any one could want with one oUiis young men. As xMr. Tag-rag will be rather a prominent figure on my can>ass, I may as well liere give the reader a sligiit preparatory sketch of that gentleman. He was about fiCty-two years old ; a great tyrant in iiis little way; a compound of ignorance, selfish- ness, cant, and conceit. He knew nothing on earth except the jirice of his goods, and how to make the most of his business. He was of middle size, with a tendency to corpulence; and almost invariably wore a black coat and waistcoat, a, white neck-hand- kerchief very primly lied, and grey trowsers. He had a dull, grey eye, with while eyelashes, and no eyebrows; a forehead which seemed ashan)ed of his face, it retreated so far and so abruptly back from it; his face was pretty deeply pitted with the smallpox; his nose — or rather semblance of a nose — consisted of two great nostrils looking at you — as it were, impudently — out of the middle of his face ; there was a perfect level space from cheekbone to cheekbone; his grey whiskers, trimly and closely cut came in points to each corner of his mouth , which was large, shapeless, and sensual-looking. This may serve, for the present, to give you an idea of the man who had contrived to excite towards himself the hatred and contempt of every body over whom he had any control — with whom in fact he had any thing to do. 'You know quite well. Sir, we never allow any thing of the sort," was his short reply, in a very disagreeable tone and manner, to Titmouse's modest request. "May I beg the favour of a few minutes' private conversation with Mr. Titmouse ," said the stranger, politely , " on a matter of the last importance to him? My name, Sir, is Gammon , and I am a solicitor of the firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap" — "Why, Sir," answered Tag-rag. somewhat cowed by the calm and gentlemanly, but at the same time decisive manner of Mr. Gammon — " it 's really very inconvenient , and decidedly against the rules of the house , for any of my young men to be absent on business of their own during /«(/ business hours; but — I suppose — what must be must be — I 'II give him ten minutes — and he 'd 32 belter not stay longer," he subjoined fiercely — looking signifi- cantly first at his watch, and then at Titmouse. "It 's only for the sake of my other young men, you know, Sir. In a large establishment like ours, we "re obliged, you know, Sir" (i-c.«S:c.«$rc., he added, in a low cringing tone, deprecatory of the contemptu- ous air with which he felt that Mr. Gammon was regarding him. Thai gentleman, with a slight bow, and a sarcastic smile, pre- sently quilled the shop, accompanied by Titmouse, who scarce knew whether his head or heels were uppermost. "How far do you live from this place, Mr. Titmouse?" en- quired Mr. Gammon, as soon as they had got into the street. "Not four minutes' walk, Sir; but — hem!" — he was flustered at the idea of showing so eminent a person into his wretched room — " Suppose we were to step into this tavern here , Sir — I dare say they have a room at our service" — "Pray, allow me to ask , Mr. Titmouse — have you any private papers — family writings, or things of that sort, at your rooms?" Titmouse seemed considering. "I — I think I have, Sir," he replied — "one or two — but they 're of no consequence." "Are you a pic/ge on that point, Mr. Titmouse?" enquired Mr. Gammon, wilh a smile; "pray let us, my dear Sir, at once proceed to your rooms — time is very short and valuable. I should vastly like to look at these same insignificant papers of yours!" In less than two minutes' further lime, Mr. Gammon was sit- ting at Titmouse's little rickety round table, at his lodgings, with a sheet of paper before him , and a small pencil-case in his hand, asking him a number of questions concerning his birth and family connexions, and taking down his answers very carefully. Mr. Tiiniouse was surprised at the gentleman's knowledge of the family history of the Titmouses. As for papers, &c., Mr. Tit- mouse succeeded in producing four or five old letters and memo- randa Ironi the botloni of his trunk, and one or two entries , in faded ink, on the lly-leaf of a Bible of his father's, which he did not recollect having opened before for very many years, and of which said entries, till pressed on the subject by Mr. Gammon, 33 he had been hardly aware of even the existence. With these several documents Mr. Gammon was so inucli struck lliai he pro- posed to take them away with him, lor better and more leisurely examination, and safer custody, at their oflice ; but Mr. Titmouse signihcantly hinted at his very recent acquaintance with Mr. Gammon, who, he intimated, was at liberty to come and make exact copies of them whenever he pleased, in his (Mr. Titmouse's) presence. " Oh, certainly — yes," replied Mr. Gammon, slightly colour- ing at the distrust implied by this observation; "1 applaud your caution, Mr. Titmouse. By all means keep these documents, and most carefully ; because, (I do not say that they are,) but it is quite possible that they may become rather valuable — to you." "Thank you. Sir; and now, hoping you '11 excuse the liberty," said Titmouse, with a very anxious air, "I should most uncom- monly like to know what all this means — what is to turn up out ofitall?" "The law, my dear Sir, is proverbially uncertain" — "Oh, Lord! but the law can surely give one a hhit" — *'7V///hesay? It 's struck twelve. I 've been more than an hour away — and he gave me tea minutes! Sha'n't I catch it?" And he did. Almost the very first person whom he met, on entering the shop, was his respected employer; who, plucking his watch out of his fob, and, looking furiously at it, motioned the trembling Titmouse to follow him to the further end of the long shop, where there happened to be then no customers. "Is this your ten minutes, Sir, eh?" "I am sorry" — •'Where may you have been, Sir, all this while?" "With that gentleman. Sir, and I really did not know" — "You didn't know, Sir! Who cares what you know, or don't know? This, at any rate, you know — that you ought to have been back fifty-five minutes ago, Sir. You do. Sir! Isn't your time my property, Sir? Don't I |)ay for it, Sir? An hour! — in the middle of the day ! I 've not had such a thing happen this five years ! I '11 stop it out of your salary, Sir." Titmouse did not attempt to interrupt him. 37 "And pray what have you been gossiping about, Sir, iu this disgraceful iiiiiiincr?" " Sonictliiiiglliat he waiilcd to say to nie, Sir." "You low puppy! — do you suppose 1 don't see your im[)crti- nence? I insist, Sir, on knowing what ail this gossiping with that fellow has been about?" "Then you ?i'o/i7 know, Sir, that's flat!" replied Titmouse doggedly; returning to his usual station beiiind the counter. ^'I s/ia'n'l!.'" exclaimed Mr. Tag-rag, almost aghast at the presumption of his inferior. "No, Sir, you 47irt'«7 know a single word about it." "Sha'n't know a single word about it! Vastly good , Sir!! — Do you know whom you 're talking to. Sir? Do you really know in whose presence you are, Sir?" enquired Mr. Tag-rag, nearly trembling with rage. "Mr. Tag-rag, I presume, of the firm of Tag-rag and Co.," replied Titmouse, looking him full in the face. — One or two of his con)|)anions near him, almost turned pale at the audacity he was displaying. "And who sreij07i, Sir, that dare to presume to bandy words withiMK, Sir?" enquired Tag-rag, his deeply pitted face having turned quite while, and his whole body (jui\cring with rage. "Tittlebat Titmouse, at your service ," was the answer, in a glib tone , and wilh a suHiciently saucy air; for Titmouse then felt that he had passed the Rubicon. "You heard that, I hope?" enquired Tag-rag wilh forced calmness, of a pale-faced young man , the nearest to him. t' Ye — es Sir," was the meekly reluctant answer. "This day month you leave. Sir!" said Mr. Tag-rag so- lemnly — as if conscious that he was passing a sort of sentence of death upon the presumptuous delinquent. "Very well , Mr. Tag-rag — any thing that pleases you pleases your humble servant. I ivillgo this day month , and welcome — I 've long wished — and now, p'r'aps," he added significantly — "it 's rather convenient than otherwise" — "Then you shan't leave , Sir ," said Tag-rag furiously. "But I will, Sir. You 'vc given me warning; and, if you 38 haven't, now I give yoii warning," replied Tilniouse; turning, however, very pale, and experiencing a certain sudden sinking of the heart — for this was a serious and most unlooked-for event, and for a while put out of his head all the agitating thoughts of the last few hours. Poor Titmouse had enougli to bear — what with the delicate raillery and banter of his refined companions for the rest of the day, and the galling tyranny of Mr. Tag-rag, (who dogged him about all day , setting him about the most menial and troublesome offices he could, and constantly saying mortifying things to him before customers,) and the state of miserable sus- pense in which Mr. Gammon had thought lit to leave him; I say that surely all this w'as enough for him to bear without having to encounter at night , as he did , on his return to his lodgings , his blustering landlady, who vowed that if she sold him out and out she would be put ofTno longer — and his pertinacious and melan- choly tailor, who, with sallow unshaven face, told him of five children at home, all ill of the smallpox, and his wife in an hospital — and he implored a payment on account. This sufferer succeeded in squeezing out of Titmouse seven shillings on ac- count, and his landlady extorted ten; which staved off a dis- tress — direful word! — for some week or two longer; and so they left him in the possession of eight shillings or so , to last till next quarter-day — six weeks off! He sighed heavily, barred his door, and sat down opposite his little fable, on which was no- thing but a solitary thin candle , and on which his eyes rested un- consciously, till the stench of it, burning right down into the socket, roused him from his wretched reverie. Then he un- locked his box, and took out his Bible and the papers which had been produced to Mr. Gammon, and gazed at them with intense but useless scrutiny. Unable to conjecture what bearing they could have upon himself or his fortunes, he hastily replaced them in his box, threw off his clothes, and flung himself on his bed, to pass a far more dismal night than he had known for years. He ran the gauntlet atMessrs. Tag-rag and Co.'s allTuesday as he had done on the day preceding. One should have supposed that when his companions beheld him persecuted by their com- mon tyrant, whom they all equally haled, they would have made 30 common cause with their suffering companion , or at all events given no counlenance to his persecution; yet it was far other- wise. Without stopping to analyse the feeling which produced it, (and which the moderately rcnective reader may easily analyse for himself if so disposed,) I am grieved to have to say, that when all the young men saw that Tag-rag would be gratified bj their c?//////^' poor Titmouse, who, with all his little vanities, fooleries, and even selfishness, had never personally ofTcndcd or injured any of them — they did cut him; and, when Tag-rag observed it, his miserable niiud was unspeakably gralilied with what they had done: and he spoke to all of them with unusual blandness; to the sinner. Titmouse, with augmented bitterness and sterness. CHAPTER II. A FEW minutes after ten o'clock that night, a gentle ringing at the bell of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's ofTice, an- nounced the arrival of poor Titmouse. The door was quickly opened by a very fashionably dressed clerk, who seemed iu the act of quitting for the night. "Ah — iMr. Titmouse, I presume?" he enquired, with o kind of deference in his manner to which Titmouse had never been accustomed. "The same , Sir — Tittlebat Titmouse." "Oh I allow me, Sir, to show you in to Messrs. Quirk, Gam- mon, and Snap; I know they 're expecting to see you. It 'snot often they 're here so late! Walk in. Sir" — With this he led the way to an inner room, and opening a green-baize door in the further side of it, announced and showed in Mr. Titmouse , and left him — suflicicntly flustered. Three gentlemen were sitting at a large table, on which he saw, by the strong but circumscribed light of two shaded candlesticks, were lying a great number of papers and parchments. The three gentlemen rose when he entered, Mr. Quirk and Mr. Snap involuntarily starting on first catching sight of the figure of Titmouse: Mr. Gammon came and shook hands with him. 40 "Mr. Titmouse, " said he, with a very polite air, "letmein- troduce you to Mr. Quirk" — (This was the senior partner, a short, stout elderly gentleman, dressed in black, with a shining bald crown fringed with while hair, and sharp black eyes, and who looked very earnestly, nay, with even a kind of dismay, at him) — "and Mr. Snap" — (This was the junior partner, having recently been promoted to be such after ten years' service in the office, as managing clerk: he was about thirty, particularly well dressed, slight, active, and with a face like a terrier — 50 hard, sharp, and wiry!) Of Mr. Gammon himself, I have already given the reader a slight notion. He appeared altogether a different style of person from both his partners. He was of most gentle- manly person and bearing — and at once acute, cautious, and insinuating — with a certain something about the eye, which had from the first made Titmouse feel uneasy on looking at him. "A seat. Sir," said Mr. Quirk rising, and placing a chair for him, on which he sat down , they resuming theirs. "You are punctual, Mr. Titmouse!" exclaimed Mr. Gam- mon, kindly; "more so than, Ifear, you were yesterday, after our long interview, eh? Pray what did that worthy person, Mr. Rag-bag — or whatever his name is — say on your return?" "Say, gents?" — (he tried to clear his throat, for he spoke somewhat more thickly, and his heart beat more perceptibly than usual) — "Meaning no offence — I 'm ruined by it, and no mistake." "Ruined! I 'm sorry to hear it," interposed Mr. Gammon, with a concerned air. "lam, indeed. Sir. Such a towering rage as he has been io ever since; and he 's given me warning to go on the lOlh of next month." He thought he observed a faint smile llit over the faces of all three. "He has, indeed!" " Dear me , Mr. Titmouse ! — Did he allege any reason for dis- missing you?" keenly enquired Mr. Quirk. "Yes, Sir" — " What might it have been ! " " Slopping out longer than I was allowed , and refusing to tell him \shat this geaileman and I had been talking about." 41 •'Don't think that 'II do; sure it won't!" briskly exclaimed Mr. Snap; "no just cause of dismissal that," and hejumpedup, vhisked down a book from the shelves behind him, and eagerly turned over the leaves. "Never mind that now, Mr. Snap," said Mr. Quirk, rather petulanlly; "surely we have other matters to talk about to- night!" " Asking pardon , Sir, but I think it rfop.9 matter to me. Sir," interposed Titmouse; "for on the lOlh of next month 1 'm a beggar — being next door to it notv." "Not quite, we trust," said Mr. Gammon, with a benignant smile. "But Mr. Tag-rag said he 'd make me as good as one." "That 's evidence to show malice," again eagerly inferjecled Mr. Snap, who was a second time tartly rebuffed by Mr. Quirk; even Mr. Gammon turning towards him with a surprised — "Really, Mr. Snap!" "So Mr. Tag-rag said he 'd make you a beggar?" enquired Mr. Quirk. "lie vowed he would , Sir! — He did, as true as the gospel, Sir!" "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Quirk and Mr. Gammon — but such a laugh! — not careless or hearty , but subdued, and with a dash of deference in it. "Well — it perhaps ynay not signify much, by that time;" said Mr. Quirk, and laughed again, fol- lowed by the soft laugh of Mr. Gammon, and a kind of sharp quick sound, like a bark, from Mr. Snap. "But, genis, you'll excuse me if I say I think it rfoe* signify tome, and a'n't any laughing matter, by any means!" quoth Tit- mouse earnestly, and colouring with anger. "Without being rude, I 'd rather come to business, if there 's any to be done, with- out so much laughing at one." "Laughing at you! my dear Sir, — no, no!" exclaimed all three in a breath — "laughing iviih you," said Mr. Quirk! — "By the time you mention, you may perhaps be able to laugh at Mr. Rag-bag, and every body else, for" — [ — "No use mincing matters?" he whispered, in a low tone, 42 to Mr. Gammon, who nodded, but in apparently very reluctant acquiescence, and fixed his eyes earnestly on Titmouse.] "I really think we are warranted. Sir, in preparing you to ex- pect by that time — that is, you will understand, Sir, if our efforts are successful in your behalf, and if you yield yourself implicitly in all things to our guidance — that is absolutely essen- tial — a prospect — we say at present, you will observe, only di prospect — of a surprising and splendid change in your circum- stances!" Titmouse began to tremble violently, his heart beat rapidly , and his hands were bedewed with a cold moisture. "I hear, gents," said he, thickly; and he also heard a faint ringing in his ears, "It 's not impossible. Sir, in plain English," continued Mr. Quirk, himself growing a little excited wilh the important com- munication which trembled on the tip of his tongue, "that yoa may at no distant time (if you really turn out to be the person we are in search of) be put into possession of an estate of somewhere about Ten Thousand a-year" — The words seemed to have struck Titmouse blind — as he saw nothing for some moments; then every thing appeared to be swimming around him , and he fell a sort of faintness or sickness stealing over him. They had hardly been prepared for their com- munication's affecting their little visitor so powerfully. Mr. Snap hastened out, and in again, with a glass of water; and the earnest attentions of the three soon restored Mr. Titmouse to his senses. It was a good while, however, before he could appreciate the little conversation which they now and then addressed to him, or esti- mate the full importance of the astounding intelligence which Mr. Quirk had just communicated, "Beg pardon — but may I make free to ask for a little brandy and cold water, gents? I feel all over in a kind of tremble ," said he , some little time afterwards. "Yes — by all means, Mr. Titmouse," replied Mr. Quirk — "Mr. Snap , will you be kind enough to order Betty to bring in a glass of cold brandy and water from the Jolly Thieves, next door?" — Snap shot out, gave the order, and returned in a trice. The old woman in a few minutes' lime followed, with a large tumbler of dark brandy and water, quite hot, for which Mr. Gammon /|3 apologized , but Mr. Titmouse said he preferred it so — and sooa addressed himself to the iiispirilii)g mixture. It quickly mani- fested its influence, re-assuring him wonderfully. As he sat sipping it, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap being engaged in an earnest conversation, of vliicli he could not comprehend a word, he had leisure to look about him, and observed that there was lying before them a large sheet of paper^ at which ihey all of them often and earnestly looked, tilled with marks, so — with writing at the ends of each of them, and round and square figures. When he saw them all bending over and scrutinizing this mysterious object, it puzzled him (and many a better head than his has a pedigree puzzled before) sorely, and he began to suspect it was a sort of conjuring paper! — "I hope, gents, that paper 's all right — eh?" said he, sup- ported by the brandy, which he had nearly finished. They turned towards him with a smile of momentary surprise, and then — "We hope so — a vast deal depends on it," said Mr. Quirk, looking over his glasses at Titmouse. Now what he had hinted at, as far as he could venture to do so, was a thought that glanced across his as yet unsettled brain , that there might have been invoked more than mere earlhhj asxislance ; but he prudently pressed the matter no further — that was all Messrs. Quirk, Gam- mon, and Snap's look-out; he had been no party to anything of the sort, nor would he knowingly. He also observed the same sheetsof paper written all over, which Mr. Gammon had filled up at his (Titmouse's) room, the night before; and several new, and old-looking, papers and parchments. Sometimes they ad- dressed questions to him , but found it somewhat difTicult to keep his attention up to any thing that was said to him for the wild visions which were chasing one another through his heated brain; the passage of which said visions was not a little accelerated by the large tumbler of brandy and water which he had just taken. 44 "Then, in point of fact," said Mr. Quirk, as Messrs. Gammon and Snap simultaneously sat down, after having been for some time standing poring over tlie paper before Mr. Quirk. "This Tittlebat Titmouse's title must have accrued iu 18 — . That 's the point — eh. Gammon?" "Precisely so," said Mr. Gammon calmly. "To be sure," confidently added Snap; who having devoted himself exclusively all his life to the sharpest practice of the criminal law, knew about as much of real property law as a snipe — but it would not have done to appear ignorant, or taking no part in the matter, in the presence of the heir-at-law, and the future great client of the House. "Well, Mr. Titmouse," at length said Mr. Quirk with a sort of grunt, laying aside his glasses — '■'{{you turn out to be the Titmouse \se have been speaking of, you are likely, through our immense evertions, to become one of the luckiest men that ever lived! We maybe mistaken, but it appears to us that we shall by and by be able to put you into possession of a very fine estate in Yorkshire, worth some ;£IO,000 or i:i2,000 a-year at the least!" '•You — don't — say — so!" exclaimed Titmouse, elevating his hands and opening his eyes with amazement — " Oh , geuls , I do believe we 're all dreaming! Is it all true, indeed?" "It is, Mr. Titmouse — and we are very proud and happy in- deed to be the honoured instruments of establishing your rights, my dear Sir," said Mr. Gammon, in a most impressive manner. "Then all the money that 's been spent this ten or twelve years has been my money, has it?" "//"we are right, it is undoubtedly as you say," answered Mr. Quirk, giving a quick apprehensive glance at Mr. Gammon. "Then there'll be a jolly reckoning for some one, shortly — eh? My stars!" "My dear Mr. Titmouse," said Mr. Gammon, gravely, "you have no more than a just regard for your own interests. There will be a reckoning, and a very terrible one erelong, for some- body — but we 've a vast deal to go through, and a vast deal of money to be spent, before we come to discuss e the sole cause of the direful disaster which had befallen him. He utterly lost sight of one circumstance, which one might have imagined likely to have occurred to his thoughts at such a time — \iz. his own olfensivc and insolent behaviour overnight lo Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. Yet so it was: — yes, upon the devoted (tut unconscious) head of Huckaback , was the lightning rage of Tittlebat Titmouse doomed to descend. The fire that was thus quickly kindled within, soon dried up the source of his tears. He ciammed the letter into his pocket, and started off at once in the direction of Leicester Square, breathing rage at every step — viresqiic ncfjuiren.i eitndo. His hands kept convulsively clench- ing together as he pelted along. Hotter and hotter became his rage as he neared the residence of Huckaback. When he had reached it, he sprang up-stairs; knocked at his ((uondam friends Ten Tfioui/ind a-Yenr. I, 5 66 door; and on the inslanl of ils being — doublless somewhat sur- priscdly — opened by Huckaback, who was undressing, Titmouse sprang towards him, let lly a goodly number of violent blows upon his face and breast — and down fell Huckaback upon the bed behind him, insensible, and bleeding profusely from his nose. "There ! there !" — gasped Titmouse, breathless and exhausted, discharging a volley of oaths and opprobrious epithets at the victim ofhisfury. "Doitagain! You will, won't you ! You'll^o — and meddle again in other people's — you — cu-cu-cursed officious" — but his rage was spent — the paroxysm was over; the silent and bleeding figure of Huckaback was before his eyes; and he gazed at him , terror-stricken. What had he done ! He sank dow n on the bed beside Huckaback — then started up, wringing his hands, and staring at him in an ecstasy of remorse and fright. It was rather singular that the noise of such an assault should have roused no one to enquire into it; but so it was. Frightened almost out of his bewildered senses, he closed and bolted the door; and addressed himself, as well as he was able, to the recovering of Huckaback. After propping him up, and splashing cold water into his face, Titmouse at length disco\ered symptoms of restoration to consciousness, which he anxiously endeavoured to accelerate, by putting to the lips of the slowly-reviving victim of liis violence some cold water, in a lea-cup. He swallowed a little ; and soon afterwards, opening his eyes, stared on Titmouse with a dull eye and bewildered air. "What 's been the matter"?" at length he faintly enquired. "Oh, Hucky! so glad to hear you speak again. It 's I — I — Titty! I did it! Strike me, Hucky, as soon as you 're well enough ! Do — kick me — any thing you choose! I won't hinder you!" cried Titmouse, sinking on his knees, and clasping his hands together, as he perceived Huckaback rapidly reviving. "Why, what « the mailer?" repealed that gentleman, with a wondering air, raising his hand to his nose, from which the blodd was still trickling. The fact is, that he had lost his senses, probably from the suddenness , rather than the violence of the in- juries whicli ho had received. G7 " I did it all — yes, I did ! " continued Titmouse, gazing on him with a look of aj^'ony and remorse, "Why, I can't be awake — I can't!" said Huckaback, rub- bing his eyes , and then staring at his wet and blood-stained shirt- front and hands. "Oh yes, you arc — you are ! " groaned Titmouse; "and I 'm going mad as fast as I can ! Do what you like to me! Kick me if you please! Call in a constable! Send mc to jail! Say I came to rob you — any thing — blow me if 1 care what becomes of me!" "Why, what rfoc5 all this jabber mean. Titmouse?" enquired Huckaback sternly, apparently meditating reprisals. "Oh, yes, I see! Now you are going to give it mc! but I won't stir. So hit away, Hucky." "Why — are you mad?" enquired Huckaback, grasping him by the collar rather roughly. "Yes, quite! Mad! — ruined! — gone to the devil all at once !" And what if you are? What did it matter to me? What brought you here?" continued Huckaback in a tone of increasing vehe- mence. "What have I done to olfcnd you? How dare you come here? And at this lime of night , too? Eh?" "What, indeed! Oh lud, oh lud , oh lud ! Kick me, I say — strike me! You 'II do me good, and bring me to my senses. Me to do all this to you! And we 've been such precious good friends always. I in a brute, Hucky — I 've been mad, stark mad, Hucky — and that 's all I can say!" Huckaback stared at him more and more ; and began at length to suspect how matters stood — namely, that the Sunday's inci- dent had turned Titmouse's head — he having also, no doubt, heard some desperate bad news during the day , smashing all his hopes. A mixture of emotions kept Huckaback silent. Asto- nishment — apprehension — doubt — pride — pique — resentment. He had been struck — his blood had been drawn — by the man there before him on his knees, formerly his friend; now, he sup- posed , a madman. "Why, curse me, Titmouse, if I can make up my mind what to do to you!" he exclaimed. "1 — I suppose you are going mad, fi8 or gone mad , and I must forgive you. Bui get away with you — out with you , or — or — I 'I! call in " — "Forgive me — forgive me. dearHncky! Don't send me away — I shall go and drown myself if you do." "What the d — 1 do I care if you do? You'd much better have gone and done il before you came here. Nay, be off and do it now, instead of blubbering here iu this way." ''Go on! go on! — it 's doing me good — the worse the better! " sobbed Titmouse. "Come, come," said Huckaback roughly, "none of this noise here. I 'm tired of it !" "But, pray, don't send me away from you. I shall go straight to the devil if you do! I 've no friend but you , Hucky. Yet I 've been such a villain to jou ! — But it quite put the de\il into me, when all of a sudden I found it was you." "Me! — Why, what are you after?" interrupted Huckaback, with an air of angry wonder. "Oh dear, dear!" groaned Titmouse; "if I 've been a brute to you, which is quite true, yoji've been the r?/m of me, clean! I'm clean done for, Huck. Cleaned out! You 've done my busi- ness for me; knocked it all on the head ! — I sha'n't never hear any more of it — they 've said as much in their letter — they say you railed to-day " — Huckaback now began to have a glimmering notion of his ha- ving been in some considerable degree, connected with the mis- chief of the day — an unconscious agent in it. He audibly drew in his breath, as it wore, as he more and more distinctly recol- lected his visit to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and ad- verted more particularly to his threats, uttered, too, in Titmouse's name, and as if by his authority. Whew! here was a kettle of lish. Now, strange and unaccountable as, at first thought, it may appear, the very circumstance which one should have thought cal- culated toassuage his resentment againstTitmouse — namely, that he had really j«y?«'erf Titmouse most seriously, (if not indeed irre- parably,) and so provoked l\it drubbing which had just beenadmi- 69 nislered to biiu — had quite the couUary effect. Paradoxicul as it may seem, lualter of clear miti;,'ation was at once converted into matter ol' a;^gia\alion. Were liie leeiings wiiicli Uuckubuck tlieu experienced , akin to that wiiicli olten produces hatred of a person whom one has injured? May it Ije thus accounted for? That there is a secret satisfaction in tiie mere consciousness of being a sutferer — a martyr — and that, too, in the presence of a person whom one perceives to be aware that lie lias wantonly injured one; that one's bruised spirit is soothed by the sight of his remorse — by the consciousness that he is punishing himself inhnitely more severely than tve could punish him ; and of the claim one has obtained to the stjmpatliij of every body who sees , or may hear of one's suffer- ings, (that rich and grateful balm to injured feeling.) But when, as in the case of Huckaback, feelings of this description (in a coarse and small way , to be sure , according to his kind) were suddenly encountered by a consciousness of his having rfe^e/u'erf his suffer- ings; when the martyr felt himself quickly sinking into the culprit and olleuder; when, I say, Huckaback felt an involuntary con- sciousness that the gross indignities which Titmouse had just in- flicted on him , had been justiUed by the provocation — nay , had been far less than his mischievous and impudent interference had deserved; — and when feelings of this sort, moreover, were sharp- ened by a certain tingling sense of physical pain from the blows which he had received — the result was, that the sleeping lion of Hucliaback's courage was very nearly awakening. '■'I've half a mind, Titmouse" — said Huckaback, knitting his brows, lixiug his eyes, and appearing inclined to raise his arm. There was an ominous pause for a moment or two, during which Titmouse's feelings also underwent a slight alteration. His allu- sion to Huckaback's ruinous insult to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, unconsciously converted his remorse into rage, which it rather, perhaps, resuscitated. Titmouse rose from his knees. "Ah!" said he, in quite an altered tone, "you //itf^r look licrce ! you may ! — you 'd better strike me. Huckaback — do ! Finish the mischief you 've begun this day! Hit away — you 're quite safe" — and he secretly prepared himself for the mischief which — did not come. "You /lai't' ruined me! youha>e, Huckaback!" he con- 70 tiaued witli increasiu;^ vehemeace; "and I shall be cutting luy throat — nay ," striking his fist on the table , "I will ! " "You don't say so!" exclaimed Huckaback, apprehensively. "No, Titmouse, don't — don't think of it; it will all come right yet, depend on 't; you see it' it don't!" "Oh, no, it 's all done for — it 's all up with me!" "ButM»/(a^ 'a- been done? — let us hear," said Huckaback, as he passed a wet towel to and fro over his ensanguined features. It was by this time clear that the storm which had for some lime given out only a few faint fitful flashes or llickerings in the distance, had passed away. Titmouse, with many grievous sighs, took out the letter which had produced the paroxysms I have been describing, and read it aloud. "And only see how they 've spelled your name, Huckaback — look!" he added, handing his friend the letter. '• How /?«Wic'/ar vulgar!" exclaimed Huckaback, with a con- temptuous air, which, overspreading his features, half-closed as was his left eye, and swollen as were his cheek and nose, would have made him a queer object to one who had leisure to observe such matters. "And so Ihis is all they say of 7«e ," he continued. "How do you come to know that I 've been doing you mischief? All I did was just to look in, as respectful as possible, to ask how you was, and they very civilly told me you was very well, and we parted" — "Nay, now, that 's a lie, Huckaback, and you know it!" interrupted Titmouse. 'It 's true, so help me — !" vehemently asseverated Huck- aback. "Why, perhaps you 'II deny that you wrote and told me all you said ," interrupted Titmouse indignantly , feeling in his pocket for Huckaback's letter, which that worthy had at the moment quite forgolten having sent, and on being reminded of it, he certainly seemed rather nonplussed. "Oh — ay, if you mean tkat — hem ! " — he stamniered. "Come, you know you 're a liar, Huck — but it 's no good now: liar or no liar, it 's all over." "The pot and kettle, anyhow, Tit, as far as that goes — hem ! — bat let's spell over this letter; we haven't studied it yet; I'm 71 a hand , rallier , at getting at what 's said in a letter ! — Come " — and they drew their chairs togeliier, IIuckai)aek reading over the letter slowly , alone; Titmouse's eyes travelling incessantly from his I'riend's countenance to the letter, and so back again, to gather what might be the ellect ol' its perusal. "There 's a glimpse of daylight yet, Titty! " said lluckaback, as he concluded reading it. "No! IJut is there really? Do tell me, Hucky " — "Why, lirst and foremost, how uncommon polite they are, (except that they haven't maimers enough to spell my name right) "- "Really — and so they are!" exclaimed Titmouse, rather elatedly. " And then, you see , there 's anotiier thing — if they 'd meant to give the thing the go-by altogether, what could have been easier 'than to say so'.' — but lliey haven't said any thing of the sort, so they don't mean to give it all up I " "Lord, Huck! what would I give for such a head as yours! What you say is quite true," said Titmouse, still more cheerfully. "To be sure, they do say there 's an obstacle — an obstacle, you see — nay, it 's obstacles, which is several, and that" — Titmouse's face fell. " But they say again , that it 's— it 's— curse their big words — they say it 's — to be got over in time." *' Well — that 's something , isn't it ? " "To be sure it is; and a'n'tany thing belter than nothing? But then, again, here 's a stone in the other pocket — they say there 's a circuinslancu! — Don't you hate circumstances, Titty? — I do." "So do I! — What does it mean? I 've often heard — isn't it a (Ming? And that may be — any thing." " Oh , there 's a great dif — hem ! And they go on to say it 's happened since you was there" — "Curse me, then, if that don't mean ijou, Huckaback!" interrupted Titmouse, with returning anger. '•No, that can't be it; they said they^d no control over the circumstance; — now they had over me; for they ordered me to 72 the door, and I went; a'u't that so, Titty? — Lord, how my eye docs smart , to be sure ! " ''And don't I smart all over, inside and out, if it come to that?" enquired Titmouse dolefully. "There's nothing particular in the rest of the letter — only uncommon civil , and saying if any thing turns up you shall hear." "/could make that out myself — so there 's nothing in that" — said Titmouse quickly. '• Well — if it is all over — what a pity ! Such things as we could have done , Titty , if we 'd got the thing — eh ? " Titmouse groaned at this glimpse of the heaven he seemed shut out of for ever. "Can't you lind any thing — nothing at all comfortable-like, in the letter?" he enquired with a deep sigh. Huckaback again took up the letter and spelled it over. "Well," said he, striving to give himself an appearance of thinking, "there's something in it that, after all, 1 don't seem quite to get to the bottom of — they 've seemingly taken a deal of pains with it!" [And undoubtedly it was a document which had been pretty well considered by its framers before being sent out ; though, probably, they had hardly anticipated its being so soon afterwards subjected to the scrutiny of such acute intellects as were now engaged upon it.] ■■And then, again, you know they 're lawyers; and do tliey ever write any thing that hasn't got more in it than any body can And out? These gents that wrote this, they 're a trick too keen for the thieves even — and how can we — hem! — but I wonder if that fat, old, bald-headed gent, with sharp eyes, was Mr. Quirk" — "To be sure it was," interrupted Titmouse, with a half shudder. "Was it? Well, then, I 'd advise Old Nick to look sharp before he tackles that old gent , that 's all ! " "Give me Mr. Gammon for my money," said Titmouse sigh- 73 fng, "such an uncommon genllemaulike gent — lie 's quite lakeii to me" — "Ah, that, I suppose, was him with the hiack ^clvet waist- coat, and prclly white hands! But /le can look stern , too, Til! You should have seen him ring, when — hem ! — But what was I saying about the letter? Don't you see they say they 'II be sure to write if any thing turns up?" "So they do, to be sure! Well — I'd forgot that!" inter- rupted Titmouse, brightening up. "Then, isn't there their advertisement in \heFlasli? They liadn't their eye on any thing when Ihcy put it there, I dare say! — They can't get out ai Ihal , any how ! " "I begin to feel all of a sweat, Hucky; I 'm sure there 's some- thing in the wind yet ! " said Titmouse , drawing nearer still to his comforter. "And more than that — would they have said half they did to me last night" — "Eh! hallo, by the way! I 've not heard of what went on last night! So you went to 'em? Well — tell us all that happened — and nothing but the truth, be sure you don't; come. Titty!" said Huckaback, snuffing the candle, and then turning eagerly to his companion. " Well— they 'd such a number of queer-looking papers before them, some with old German-text writing, and others with zig- zag marks — and they were so uncommon polite — they all three got up as I went in, and made me bows, one after the other, and said, 'Yours most obediently , Mr, Titmouse,' and a great many more such things." "Well — and then?" "Why, Hucky, so help mc — ! and 'ponmysoul, that old gent, Mr. Quirk, told me" — Titmouse's voice trembled at the recollection — "he says, 'Sir, you 're the real owner of Ten Thousand a-year , and no mistake ! ' " "Lawks!" ejaculated Huckaback, opening wider and wider his eyes and ears as his friend went on. " 'And a title— a lord, or something of that sort— and you've a great many country seats; and there 's been t 10,000 a-year 74 saving up for you ever since you was born — and heaps of interest besides ! — 'pen my soul he did ! " "Lord, Tit! you lake my breath away," gasped Huckaback, his eyes fixed intently on his friend's face. "Yes; and tlicy said I might marry the most bcautifulest woman that e\er my eyes saw, for the asking." "You'll forget poor Bob Huckaback , Tit!" murmured his friend despondingly. '•Not I, Huckaback — if I get my rights, and you know how to behave yourself!" 'Have you been to Tag-rag's to-day, after hearing all this?" [The thermometer seemed to have been here plunged out of hot water into cold — Titmouse was down at zero in a trice.] "Oh! — that 's it! 'T is all gone again ! What a fool I am ! We've clean forgot this cursed letter — and that leads me to the end of what took place last night. That cursed shop was what we split on ! " "Split on the shop! eh? What 's the meaning of that?" en- quired Huckaback, with eager anxiety. "Why, that 's the thing," continued Titmouse, in a faltering tone, and with a depressed look — "That was what I wanted to know myself; for they said I 'd belter go back!! So I said, ' Gents ,' said I , ' I '11 be — if I '11 go back to the shop any more ; ' and I snapped my fingers at them — so! (for you know what a chap I am when my blood 's up.) And they all turned gashly pale — they did, upon my life — you never saw any thing like it! And one of them said then, in a humble way, 'Wouldn't I please to go bark to the shop, just for a day or two, till things is got to rights a bit.' 'Not a day nor a minute!' says I, in an immense rage. 'We think you 'd better, really,' said they. 'Then,' says I, 'if that 's your plan, curse me if I won't cut with you all, and I 'II employ some one else ! ' and — would you believe me? — out I went, bang! into the street !! " " You f/id, Tit ! ! " echoed Huckaback , aghast. "They shouldn't have given me so much brandy and water as they did; I didn't well know what 1 was about, what with the news and the spirits ! " 75 "And you went into the street?" etuiiiircd Huckaback, with a kind ol'liuiTor. "I did, by Jove, llucky !" "They 'd given you the speriits to see what kind of chap you 'd be if you got the property — only to try you, depend ou it! " "Lord! I — I dare say they did!" exclaimed Titmouse, ele- vating his iiead witli sudden amazement, totally forgetting that that same brandy and water he had asked for— "and me never to think of it al the time!" "Now are you quite sure you wasn't in a dream last night , all the while?'' "Oh, dear, I wish I had been — I do, indeed, Hucky!" "Well — you went into the street — what then?" enquired Huckaback, with a sigh of exhausted attention. "Why, when I 'd got there, I could have bitten my tongue oil', as one may suppose; but, just as 1 was a-turning to go in again, who should come up to me but Mr. Gammon , saying, he humbly hoped (here was no offence." "Oh, glorious! So it was all set right again , then — eh?" "Why — I — 1 can't quite exactly say that much, either — but — when I went back, (being obligated by Mr. Gammon being so pressing,) the other two was sitting as pale as death ; and though Mr. Gammon and me went on our knees to the old gent, it wasn't any use for a long time; and all that he could be got to say was, that perhaps I might look in again to-night — (but they first made me swear a solemn oath on the Bible never to tell any one any thing about the fortune) — and then - you went, Huckaback, and you did the business; they of course concluding [ 'd sent you! " "Oh, bother! that can't be. Don't you see how civilly they speak of me in their letter? They 're afraid of me, you may depend on it. By the way. Til, how much did you promise to come down , if you got the thing?" "Come f/o?/^?i.' — I — really — by Jove, I didn't think of such a thing ! No — I 'm sure I didn't" — answered Titmouse , as if new light bad burst in upon bini. 76 "Why, Tit, I never see'd such a goose! That 'sit, depend upon it — it 's the whole thing! That 's what they 're driving at, in the note ! — Why , Til , where ivus your wits? D'ye think such gents as them — great lawyers, loo — will work fornolhing? — You must write at once and lell them you will come down hand- some — say a couple ol hundreds, besides expenses — Gad! 'I will set you on your pins again , Tilty ! — Rot me ! now I think of it, if 1 didn't dream last night that you was a Member of Parlia- ment or something of that sort." "A Member of Parliament! And so I shall, if all this turns up well — I shall be that at least!" replied Titmouse exullingly. "You see if my dream don't come true! You see , Tilly, I'm always a-lhinking of you , day and night. Never was two fellows that was such close friends as we was from the very beginning of knowing each other ! " [They had been acquainted with each other about half a year.] "Hucky, what a cruel scamp I was to behave to you in the way I did — curse me, if I couldn't cry to see your eye bunged up in that way! " "Pho! dear Titty, I knew you loved me all the while" — whined Huckaback, "and meant no harm; you wasn't yourself when you did it — and besides, I deserved ten times more! If you had killed me I should have liked you as much as ever! " "Gi\e us your hand, Hucky! Let 's forgive one another!" cried Titmouse excitedly; and their hands were quickly locked together. "H'wc don't mismanage the thing, we shall be all right yet, Titty; but you won't do any thing without speaking to 7«e first — will you, Tilly?" "The thoughts of it all going right again is enough to set me wild, Hucky — But what shall we do to set the thing going again?" "Quarter past one!" quivered the voice of the paralytic watch- man beneath, startling the friends out of their exciting colloquy ; his warning being at the same time silently seconded by the long- wicked crmdie, burning within half nn inch of its socket. They hastily agreed that Titmouse should immediately write to Messrs. 77 Quirk , Gammon , and Snap , a proper [/• c a mosl abject] lelter, solemnly pledging himself lo obey their injunctions in every thing for the future, and offering them a handsome reward for their exertions, if successful. "Well — good-night, Huck ! good-night," said Titmouse rising. "1 'm not the least sleepy — I sha'n't sleep a wink all night long! I shall sit up lo write my lelter — you haven't got a sheet of paper here, by the way? — I 've used all mine." [That was, he had, some months before, bought a sheet to write a let- ter, and had so used it. J Huckaback produced a sheet, somewhat crumpled, from a drawer. "I M give a hundred if I bad them!" said he; "I sha'n't care a straw for the hiding I 'vc got to-night — though I 'ra a leelle sore after it, too — and what the deuce am I to say to- morrow to Messrs. Diaper" — "Oh, you can't hardly be at a loss for a lie that '11 suit ^AeOT, surely ! — So good-night , Hucky — good-night ! " Huckaback wrung bis friend's band , and was in a moment or two alone, "Haven't my lingers been itching all the while to be at the fellow!" exclaimed he, as he shut the door. "But, somehow, I 've got too soft a spcrrit, and can't bear lo hurl any one; — and then — if the chap gels his t 10,000 a-ycar — why — hem! Titty a'n't such a bad fellow, in the main, alter all." If Titmouse had been many degrees higher in the grade of society, ho would slill have met rvilh his Huckaback; — a Irille more polished, perhaps, but hardly more quicksighted or effec- tive than, in his way, had been the vulgar being be had just quitted. Titmouse haslened homeward. How it was he knew not ; but the feelings of elation wi(h which he had quitted Huckaback did not last long; they rapidly sunk, in the cold night-air, lower and lower, the further he got from Leicester Square. He tried to re- collect what it was that had made him take so very different a view of bis affairs from that with which he had entered Huckaback's room. He had still a vague impression that they were not desperate ; that Huckaback had told him so , and so?neho2v proved 78 if; but how he now knew not — he could not recollect. As Huckaback had gone on from time to time, Titmouse's lillle niiud seemed to himself to compreheud and appreciate what was. being said, and to gather encouragement from it; but «o«; — consume it! — he stopped — rubbed his forehead — what the deuce was it? Ily the lime (hat he had reached his own door, he felt in as deplorable and despairing a humour as ever. He sat down to write his letter at once; but, after many vain efforts to express his meaning — his feelings being not in the least degree relieved by the many oaths he uttered — he at length furiously dashed his pen, point-wise, upon the table, and thereby destroyed the only implement of the sort which he possessed. Then he tore, rather than pulled otf, his clothes; blew out his candle with a furious pyff! and threw himself on his bed — but in so doing banged the back of his head against the back of the bed — and which of the two sulferod more, for some lime after, probably Mr. Titmouse was best able to tell. Hath, then — oh. Titmouse! fated to undergo much! — the blind jade Fortune, in her mad vagaries — she, the goddess whom thou hast so long foolishly worshipped — at length cast her sportful eye upon thee, and singled thee out to become the envy of n)illions of admiring fools, by reason of the pranks she will pre- sently make thee exhibit for her amusement? If this be indeed, as at present it promises, her intent, she truly, to me calmly watch- ing her movements, appears resolved first to wreak her spite upon thee to the uttermost, and make thee pass through intense suffer- ings! Oh me! Oh me! Alas! CHAPTER III. The means by which Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, be- came possessed of the important information which bad put them into motion, as we have seen, to find out by advertisement one yet unknown to them , it will not be necessary for some time to explain. Theirs was a keen house, truly, and dealing principally in the criminal line of business ; and they would not , one may be sure, have lightly committed themselves to their present extent, 79 namely, In inserting snch an advertisement in the newspapers, and , above ail . goinj,' so far in tiieir disclosures to Titmouse. Their prudence in tlie laller step, liowcvcr, was very questionable to themselves even; aiul they immediately afterwards deplored together the precipitation with which Mr. Quirk had communicated to Titmouse the nature and extent of his possible good fortune. It was Mr. Quirk's own doing, however, and done after as much expostulation as the cautious Gammon could venture to use. I say they had not Uglillij taken up the affair; they had not "acted unadvisedly." They were forlilied, first, b-y the opinion of Mr. Mortmain, an able and experienced conveyancer, who thus wound up an abstrusely learned opinion on the voluminous "case" which had been submitted to him : — "** Under all these circumstances, and assuming as above, I am decidedly of opinion that the title to the estates in question is at this moment not in their present possessor, (who represents the younger branch of the Dreddlinglon family,) but in the de- scendants of Stephen Dreddlington , through the female line; which brings us to Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse. This person, however, seems not to have been at all aware of the existence of his rights, or he could hardly have been concerned in the pecu- niary arrangements mentioned at fol. '.\\\ of the case. Probably something may be heard of his heir by making careful enquiry in the neighbourhood where he was last heard of, and issuing ad- vertisements for his heir-at-law; care, of course, being taken not to be so specific in the terms of such advertisements as to at- tract the notice of A. B. , (the party now in possession.) If sucli person should, by the means above suggested , be discovered , I advise proceedings to be commenced forthwith , under the advice of some gentleman of experience at the common-law bar. "MouiDT Mortmain. "Lincoln't Inn, January 19, 18—." This was sufficiently gratifying to the "house;" but, to make assurance doubly sure , before embarking in so harassing and cv- pensive an enterprise — one which lay a good deal , loo, without 80 the sphere of their practice, which, as already mentioned, was ciiicny in criminal law — tiie same case (without Mr. Mortmain's opinion) was laid before a young conveyancer, who, having much less business than Mr. Mortmain, would, it was thought, "look into the case fully," though receiving only one-third of the fee v^hich had been paid to Mr. Mortmain. And Mr. Fussy Frank- pledge — that was his name — did "look into the case fully;" and in doing so, turned over two-thirds of his little library; — and also gleaned — by note and verbally — the opinions upon the subject of some half-dozen of his "learned friends;" to say no- thing of the magnificent air with which he indoctrinated his eager and confiding pu[)ils upon the subject. At length his imp of a clerk bore the precious result of his master's labours to Saffron Hill, in the shape of an "opinion," three times as long as, and indescribably more diflicult to understand than, the opinion of Mr, Mortmain; and which, if it demonstrated any thing beyond the prodigious cram which had been undergone by its writer for the purpose of producing it, demonstrated this — namely, that neither the party indicated by Mr. Mortmain, nor the one then actually in possession, bad any more right to the estate than the aforesaid Mr. Frankpledge; but that the happy individual so en- titled was some third person. Messrs. Quirk and Gammon, a good deal flustered hereat, hummed and hawed on perusing these contradictory opinions of counsel learned in the law; and the usual and proper result followed — i. e. a "consultation," which was to solder up all the differences between Mr. Mortmain and Mr. Frankpledge, or, at all events, strike out some light which might guide their clients on their adventurous way. Now, Mr. Mortmain had been Mr. Quirk's conveyancer (when- ever such a functionary's services had been required) for about twenty years; and Quirk was ready to suffer death in defence of any opinion of Mr. Morlmain. Mr. Gammon swore by Frank- pledge, who had been at school with him, and was a "rising man." Morlmain belonged to the old school — Frankpledge steered by the new lights. The former could point to some forty cases in the Law Reports, which had been ruled in conformity with his previously given opinion, and some twenty which had 81 been overruled thereby; the latter gentleman, although he had been only live years in practice, had written an opinion which had led to a suit — whicii had ended in a difference of opinion between ihe Court of Kin;,''s Bench and the Common Pleas; the credit of Iwning done which was, however, some time afterward, a little bit tarnished by liie decision of a Court of Error, without hearing the other side , against the opinion of Mr. Frankpledge. Hut — Mr. I'Yankpledge quoted so many cases, and went to the bot- tom of every thing, and gave so much for his money — and was so civil! — Well, the consultation came off, at length, at Mr. Mortmain's chambers, at eight o'clock in the evening. A few minutes before that hour, Messrs. Quirk and Gammon were to be seen in the clerk's room, in civil conversation with that prim functionary, who explained to them that he did all Mr. Mortmain's drafting — pupils were so idle ; that Mr. Mortmain did not score out mucli of what he (the aforesaid clerk) had drawn; that he noted up Mr. Mortmain's new cases for him in the reports, Mr. M. having so lillle time; and that the other day the Yice-Chancellor called on Mr. Mortmain — with several other matters of that sort, calculated lo enhance the im|)ortance of Mr. Mortmain; who, as the clerk was asking Mr. (iammon, in a good-natured way, how long Mr. Frankpledge had been in practice, and where his chambers were — made his ajijiearance, with a cheerful look and a bustling gait, having just walked down from his holise in Queen's Square, with a comfortable bottle of old port on board. Shortly afterwards Mr. Frankpledge arrived , followed by his little clerk, bending beneath two bags of books, (unconscious bearer of as much law as had wellnigh split thousands of learned heads, and broken lens of thousands of hearts, in the making of, being destined to have a similar but far greater effect in the applying of,) and the consulta- tion began. As Frankpledge entered, he could not help casting a sheep's eye towards a table that glistened with such an array of "papers," (a tasteful arrangement of Mr. Mortmain's clerk be- fore every consultation;) and down sat the two conveyancers and the two attorneys. I devoutly wish 1 had lime to describe Ten Thousand a- Year. J, (} 82 (he scene at length; but greater events are pressing upon me. The two conveyancers fenced with one another for some time very guardedly and good-huniourcdiy : pleasant was it to\ observe the conscious condescension of Mortmain, ti)e anxious energy and volubility of Frankpledge. When Mr. Mortmain said any thing that seemed wei^'hty or pointed, Quirk looked with an elated air, a quick triumphant glance , at Gammon; who, in his turn", whenever Mr. Frankpledge quoted an "old case" from Lcndloe, Godbolt, or the Year Books, (which, having always piqued himself on his almost exclusive acquaintance with the modern cases , he made a point of doing, ) gazed at Quirk with a smile of placid superiority. Mr. Frankpledge talked almost the whole lime; Mr. Mortmain, immovable in the view of the case which he had taken in his "opinion," listened with an attentive, good-natured air, ruminating pleasantly the while upon the quality of the port he had been drinking, (ihe first of the bin which lie had lasted,) and upon the decision which the Chancellor might come (o on a case brought into court on his advice, and which had been argued that afternoon. At last Frankpledge unwillingly fell foul of a favourite crotchet of Mortmain's — and at it they went, hammer and tongs, for nearly twenty minutes, (it had nothing whatever to do with the case they were consulting upon.) In the end. Mortmain of course adhered to liis points, and Frankpledge intrenched himself in his books; each slightly yielded to Ihe views of the olhcr on immaterial points, (or what would have appeared the use of the consult.ilion?) but did that which both had resolved upon doing from the first, ?'. e. sticKing to his original opinion. Both had talked an amazing deal of deep law, which had at least one effect, viz. it fairly drowned both Quirk and Gammon, who, as they went home, with not (it must be owned) the clearest perceptions in the world of what had been going on, (though, before going to the consultation, each had really known something about Ihe case ,) stood each stoutly by his conveyancer's opinion, each protesting that he had never been once misled — Quirk by Mortmain, or Gammon by Frankpledge— and each resolved to give /as man more of the conveyancing business of the house than he had before. I grieve to add , that 83 they palled llial ni^ht with a Irille less of cordiality lliaii had boon their wont. In the morning, however, this litlle irritation had passed away; and they agreed, before ^'i\ing up the ease, to taiie the final opinion of Mr. Tkesayle — the great Mr. Tresayie. He was, indeed, a wonderful conveyaneer — a perfect miracle of real-property law-learning. He had had such an enormous practice for forty-five years, that for the last ten he had never put his nose out of chambers for |»ure want of time, and at last of inclination; and had been so conversant with Norman French and law Latin, in the old English letter, that he had almost entirely forgotten how to write the modern English character. His opinions made their appearance in three different kinds of handwriting. First, one that none but he and his old clerk could make out; secondly, one that none but he himself could read; and thirdly, one that neither he, nor his clerk, nor any one on earth, could decipher. The use of any one of these styles depended on — the difficulty of the case to be answered. If it were an easy one, the answer was very judiciously put into No. I.; if rather dilFicult, it, of course, went into No. 11.; and if exceedingly diflicuit, (and also important,) it was very properly thrown into No. III. ; being a question that really ought not to have been asked, and did not deserve an answer. The fruit within these uncouth shells, how- ever, was precious. Mr. Tresayle's law was supreme over every body's else. It was currently reported that Lord Eldon even (who was himself slightly acquainted with such subjects) reverently deferred to the authority of Mr. Tresayie; and would lie winking and knitting his shaggy eyebrows half the niglit, if he thought that Mr. Tresayle's opinion on a case, and his own, dillered. This was the great authority to whom, as in the last resort, Messrs. Quirk , Gammon , and Snap resolved to appeal. To his chambers they, within a day or two after their consultation at Mr. Mort- main's , dispatched their case , (making no mention of the opinioa which had been previously taken,) \Aith a highly respectable fee, and a special compliment to his clerk, hoping to hear from that awful quarter v\itliin a month - which was the earliest average period within which Mr. Tresayle's opinions found their way to his patient but anxious clients. It came at length, with a note from 84 Mr. Prim, his clerii, intimating that they would find him , i.e. the aforesaid Mr. Prim , at his chambers the next morning, pre- pared to explain the opinion to them ; having just had it read over to him by Mr. Tresayle, lor it proved to be in No. II. The opinion occupied abuut two pages; and the handwriting bore a strong resemblance to Chinese or Arabic, with a quaint intermixture of the uncial Greek character — it was impossible to contemplate it without a certain feeling of awe ! In vain did old Quirk squint at it, from all corners, for nearly a couple of hours, (having first called in the assistance of a friend of his, an old attorney of upwards of fifty years' standing;) nay — even Mr. Gammon, foiled at length, could not for the life of him refrain from a soft curse or two. Neither of them could make any thing of it — (as for Snap, they never showed it to him ; it was not within his province — i. e. the Insolvent Debtors' Court, the Old Bailey, the CIcrkenwell Sessions, the Police Offices, the inferior business of the Common Law Courts, and the worrying of the clerks of the office — a de- partment in which he was perfection itself.) To their great delight, 3Ir. Tresayle took Mr. Mortmain's view of the case. Nothing could be more terse, perspicuous, and con- clusive than the great man's opinion. Mr. Quirk was in rajitures, and that very day sent to procure an engraving of Mr. Tresayle, which had lately come out, for which he paid 5«. , and ordered it to be framed and hung up in his own room, where already grinned a (juaint resemblance, in black profile, of Mr. Mortmain, cheek by jowl with that of a notorious traitor who had boea banged in spile of Mr, Quirk's best exertions. In special good- humour, he assured Mr. Gammon, (who was plainly somewhat crestfallen about Mr. Frankpledge,) that every body must have a beginning; that even he himself (Mr. Quirk) had been once only a beginner. Once fairly on the scent, Messrs. Quirk and Gammon soon began, secretly but energetically, to push their enquiries in all diroclions. They discovered that Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse, ha\ing spent the chief portion of his blissful days as a cobbler at Whitehaven, had died in London, somewhere about the year J793. At this point they stood for a long while, in spite of two 85 adverliscmenls, to which Ihcy had been dri\cii wilh Ihc greatest reluclaiice, for fear of atlractinjjj the alteiilion of those most interested in tliwartini,' their efforts. Even that [)art of the affair had been tnana;,'f(i somewhat skilfully. It was a stroke of Mr. (Jaminon's to advertise not for " Hoir-at-Law," but "A't'.r^ of Kbiy" as the reader lias seen. The former niijjlit have challenged the notice of unfriendly curiosity, which the latter was hardly cal- culated to attract. At length — at the " third lime of asking" — up turned Tittlebat Titmouse, in the way which we have seen. His relationship with ]\Ir. Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse was in- disputable; in fact, he was (to adopt his own words) that "de- ceased person's" son and heir-at-law. The reader may guess the chagrin and disgust of Mr. Gammon at the ap|)earance, manners, and character of the person whom he fully believed , ou first seeing him at Messrs. Tag-rag's, to be the rightful owner of the line estates held by one who , as against Mr. Titmouse, had no more real titltJ to them than had Mr. Tag- rag; and for whom their house was to undertake the very grave risk and expense of instituting such proceedings as would he requisite to place Mr. Titmouse in the position which they be- lieved him entitled to occu[)y — having to encounter a hot and desperate opposition at every point, from those who had nine- tenths of the law — to wit, possession — on their side, on which they stood as upon a rock ; and with immense means for carrying on the war defensive. That Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap did not contemplate undertaking all this, without having cal- culated upon its proving well worthy their while, was only reason- able. They were going voluntarily to become the means of con- ferring immense benefits upon one who was a total stranger to them — who had not a penny to spend upon the prosecution of his own rights. Setting aside certain difliculties which collected themselves into two awkward words, Maintenance and Cham- PKRTY, and stared them in the face whenever they contemplated any obvious method of securing the just reward of their enterprise and toils — setting aside all this, I say, it might turn out , only alter a ruinous expenditure had been incurred, that the high authorities which had sanctioned their proceedings iu point of 86 Jaw, had expressed their favourable opinions on a slate of facts, which, however satisfactorily they looked on paper, could not be substantiated, if keenly sifted, and determinedly resisted. All this, too — all their lime, labour, and money, to go for nothing — on behalf of a vulgar, selfish, ignorant, presumptuous, ungrate- ful puppy, like Titmouse! — Well indeed, therefore, might Mr. Ganamon, as we have seen he did, give himself and partners a forty-eight hours' interval, between his interview with Titmouse and formal introduction of him to the firm, in which to consider their position and mode of procedure. The taste of his quality which that first interview afforded them all — so far surpassing all that the bitter description of him given to them by Mr. Gammon had prepared them for — filled the partners with inexpressible disgust, and would have induced them to throw up the whole affair — so getting rid both of it, and of him, together. But then, on the other hand , there were certain very great advantages , both of a professional and even directly pecuniary kind, which it would have been madness indeed for any office lightly to throw away. It was really, after all, an unequal struggle between feeling and interest. If they should succeed in unseating the present wrongful possessor of a very splendid property, and putting in his place the rightful owner, by means alone of their own professional ability, perseverance, and heavy pecuniary outlay, (a fearful considera- tion, truly, but Mr. Quirk had scraped together some thirty thousand pounds!) what recompense could be too great for such resplendent ser\ices? To say nothing of the t-c/a/ which it would gain for their office, in the profession and in the world at large, and the substantial and permanent advantages to the firm , if, as they ought to be, they were entrusted with the general manage- ment of the property by the new and inexperienced and confiding owner — ay, but there was the rub! What a disheartening and disgusting specimen of such new owner had disclosed itself to their anxiously-expecting but soon recoiling eyes — always , how- ever, making due allowances for one or two cheering indications, CD Mr. Titmouse's part, of a certain rapacious and litigious liumour, which might hereafter right pleasantly and profitably occupy their energies! Their professional position, and their 87 inlerests had long made Ihem sharp observers; but when did ever before low and disgusting qualities force themselves into revolting prominence, as those ol Mr. Titmouse had done, in the very moment of an expected display of the better feelings of human nature — such as enthusiastic gratitude? They had, in their time, had to deal with some pleasant specimens of humanity, to be sure; but when with any more odious and impracticable than Tittlebat Titmouse llueatened to prove himself? What hold could they get upon such a character as his? Beneath all his coarseness and weakness, there was a glimmer of low cunning which might suffice to keep their superior and practised astuteness at its full stretch. These were difficulties, cheerless enough in the con- templation, truly; but, nevertheless, the partners could not bear the idea of escaping from them by throwing up the afl'air altogether. Then came the question — How were they to manage Mr. TilMiouse? — how acquire an early and firm hold of him, so as to convert him into a cupilul clieiit't His fears and his interests were obviously the engines with which their experienced hands were to work; and several long and most anxious consultations had Messrs. Quirk and Gammon had on this important matter. The first great question with them was — To what extent, and when, they should acquaint him with the nature of his expec- tations. Gajiimon was for keeping him comparatively in the dark, till success was within reach : during that interval, (which might be a long one,) by alternately stimulating his hopes and fears; by habituating him to an entire dependence on them; by per- suading him of the prodigious extent of their exertions and sacrifices on his behalf — they mii-ld do something; mould him into a shape fit for their pur[)oses; and persuade him that his affairs must needs go to ruin but in their hands. Something like this was the scheme of the cautious, acute, and placid Gam- mon. Mr. Quirk, however, (with whom,uis will be hereal'ler show n, had originated the whole discovery,) thought thus : — tell the fellow at once the whole extent of what we can do for him, viz. turn a half-starving linen-draper's shopman into the owner of ;£ 10,000 a-year, and of a great store of ready money. This 88 will, iu a manner, slun him into submission, and make him at once and for all what we want him to be. He will immediately fall prostrate wilh reverent gratitude — looking at us, moreover, as three gods, who, at our will, can shut him out of heaven. " 7'//wf 'a- the way to bring down your bird," said Mr. Quirk; and Mr. Quirk had been forty years in practice — had made the busi- ness what it was — still held half of it in his own hands, (two- thirds of the remaining half being Gammons, and the residue Snap's:) andGammun, moreover, had a very distinct perception that the funds for carrying on the war would come out of the tolerably well-stored pockets of the august head of the firm. So, alter a long discussion, he openly yielded his opinion to that of Mr. Quirk — cherishing, however, a very warm respect for it in his own bosom. As for Snap, that distinguished member of the lirm was very little consulted in the matter; which had not yet been brought to that stage where his powerful energies could come into play. He had of course, however, heard a good deal of what was going on; and knew that erelong there would be the copying out and serving of the Lord knows how many copies of declarations in ejectment, motions against the casual ejector, and so forth — so far at least as he was "up to" all those quaint and anomalous proceedings. It had, therefore, been at length agreed that the communication to Titmouse, on his first interview, of the full eitent of his splendid expectations, should dc[)end upon the discretion of Mr. Quirk. The reader has seen the unexpected turn which matters took upon that important occasion; and if il proved Quirk's policy to be somewhat inferior in point of discretion and long-sightedness to that of Gammon, still it must be owned that the latter had cause to admire the rnjiid generalship with which Mr. Quirk had obviated the con- sequences of his false move — not ill seconded by Snap. What could have been more judicious than his reception of Titmouse, on the occasion of hjs being led in again by the subtle Gammon? The next and greatest matter was, how to obtain any hold upon such a person as Titmouse had shown himself, so as to secure to themselves, in the event of success, the remuneration to which they considered themselves entitled. Was it so perfectly clear 89 that , if he felt disposed to resist it , they could compel him to pay ihe mere ainouut of Iht-ir bill of costs? Siippos^e he should turn round upon them, and have their Kii.i, TAXED — iMr. Quirk grunted with fright at the bare thought. Then there was a slapping quiddain honovariiivi extra — un- doubtedly for lliat they must, they feared, trust to the honour and gratitude of Mr. Titmouse; and a pretty taste of Ihe quality of that animal they had already experienced! Such a disposition as his, to have to rely upon for the prompt settlement of a bill of thousands of pounds of costs! and, besides that, to have it to look to for the payment of at least some five or perhaps ten thousand pounds doucenr — nay , and this was not all. Mr. Quirk had , as well as Mr. (lammon, cast many an anxious eye on the following passages from Blavkstone's " Commentaries : " — "Maintenamce is an officious intermeddling iu a suit that no way belongs to one, by 'maintaining' or assisting either party with money, or otherwise, to prosecute or defend it. * * It is an offence against public justice, as it keeps alive strife and con- tention, and perverts the remedial process of the law into an engine of oppression. * * The punishment by common law is fine and imprisonment, and by statute 32 Hen. VIII. c. 9, a for- feiture of ilO! "Champerty — (cajnpi parlitio) — is a species of Mainte- nance, and punished in the same manner; being a bargain with a plaintiif or defendant ^vnmpnm paftiri,' to divide the land, or other mailer sued for, between them, if they prevail at law; where- upon the chanipertor is to carry on the suit at his own expense. * * These pests of civil society, that are perpetually endea- vouring to disturb the repose of their neighbours, and ofliciously interfering in other men's quarrels, even at the hazard of their own fortunes, were severely animadverted on by the Roman law ; and they were punished by the forfeiture of a third part of their goods, and perpetual infamy."* These were pleasant passages surely ! — Many were the conversations and consultations which the partners had had with Messrs. Mortmain and Frankpledge re- • Jilaclcstone't Commtnturies, vol. iv. pp. 134-5. 90 speclively, upou Ihe interesting question, whether there were any mode of at once securing themselves against the ingratitude of Titmouse, and protecting themselves against the penalties of the law. It made old Mr. Quirk's bald head, even, flush all over whenever he thought of their bill being taxed, or contemplated himself the inmate of a prison, (above all, at his advanced time of life,) with mournful leisure to meditate upon the misdeeds that had sent him thither, to which profitable exercise the legis- lature would have specially stimulated him by a certain ^«e above mentioned. As for Gammon , he knew there must be a way of doing the thing somehow or another; for his friend Frankpledge felt infinitely less difficulty in the way than I^Iortmain, whom he considered a timid and old-fashioned practitioner. The courts, said Mr. Frankpledge, were now setting their faces strongly against the doctrine of Maintenance, as being founded on a by- gone state of things: cessajite raiio7ie cessat et ipsa lex , was his favourite maxim. There was no wrong without a remedy, he said; and was there not a wrong in the case of a poor man wrongfully deprived of his own? And how could this be remedied, if the old law of Maintenance stood like a bugbear in the way of humane and spirited practitioners? Was no one to be at liberty to take up the cause of the oppressed, encouraged by the pro- spect of an ample recompense? It might be said, perhaps — let the claimant sue in forma ijcniperis: but then he must swear that he is not worth five pottnds; and a man may not be able to take that oath, and yet be unequal to the commencement of a suit requiring the outlay of thousands. Moreover, a pretty pro- spect it was for such a suitor, (in/ormd pauperis,) if he should happen to be nonsuited — to be "put to his election, whether to be whipped or pay the costs." * Thus reasoned within him- self that astute person, Mr. Frankpledge; and at length salis- licd himself that he had framed an instrument which would "meet the case" — that "would hold water." To the best of my recollection, it was a bond, conditioned to pay the sum of ten thousand pounds to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, • Blackttone, vol. iii. p. 400, where it is slated, however, "that practice is now disused." 91 wilhin two months of Titmouse's being put into possession of the rents and profits of tlie estate in question. The condUion of that bond was, as its franier believed, drawn in a masterly man- ner; and his draft was lying before Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, on llie Wednesday morning, (/. e. the day after Titmouse's interview with lliem ,) and had succeeded at length in exciting the approbation of Mr. Quirk liimself; when — whew! — down came a note from Mr. Frankpledge, to the effect that, "since prepa- ring the draft bond ," he had "had reason sliglitlij to inodifij his original opinion," owing to his "having lit upon a late case," in which an instrument precisely similar to the one which he had prepared for his admiring clients, had been held "totally ineffectual and void both at law and in equity." I say, Mr. I'rankpledge's note was to that effect; for so ingeniously had he framed it — so effectually concealed his retreat beneath a little cloud of contradictory authorities, like as the ink-fish, they say, eludeth its pursuers — that his clients cursed the law, not their draftsman: and, moreover, by prudently withholding the 7m7/ie (if the "late case," he, at all events for a while, had prevented their observing that it was senior to some eight or ten cases which (indefatigable man!) he had culled for them out of the legal garden, and arrayed on the back of his draft. Slightly disconcerted were Messrs. Quirk and Gammon, it may be be- lieved, at this new view of the "result of the authorities." "Mortmain is always right!" said Quirk, looking hard at Gam- mon; who observed simply that one day Frankpledge would be as old as Mortmain then was — by which time (thought he) •I also know where — please God — you will be, my old friend, if there 's any truth in the Scriptures! In this pleasant frame of mind were the partners, when the impudent apparition of Huckaback presented itself, in the manner which has been de- scribed. Huckaback's commentary upon the disgusting text of Titmouse overnight, (as a lawyer would say, in analogy to a well-known term, "Coke upon Littleton,") produced an effect upon their minds which may be easily imagined. It was while their minds were under these two soothing influences , i. e. of the insolence of Huckaback and the vacillation of Frankpledge, that 92 Mr. Gammon had penned the note to Titmouse, (surely, uuder the circumstances , one of extraordinary temper and forbearance,) whicii had occasioned him the agonies I have been attempting faintly to describe; — and that Quirk, summoning Snap into the room, had requested him to give orders for denial to Tit- mouse if he should again make his -appearance at the office; which injunction Snap forthwith delivered in the clerk's room, in a tone and manner that were a very model of the imperative mood. A day or two afterwards, Mr. Quirk, (who was a man that stuck like a limpet to a rock to any point which occurred to him,) in poring over that page in the fourth volume of Blackslone's Com- menlaries, where were to be found the passages which have been already quoted, (and which both Quirk and Gammon had long had off by heart,) as he sat one day at dinner, at home, whither he had taken the volume in question, fancied he had at last hit ui»on a notable crotchet, which, the more he thought of, the more he was struck with; determining to pay a visit in the morning to Mr. Mortmain. The spark of light that had twinkled till it kindled in the tinder of his mind, was struck by his hard head out of the following sentence of the text in question : — "A man may, however, maintain the suit of his near kins- man, servant, or POOR NEIGHBOUR, out oi c/idritij and eo7/ij)(tssio)i, with impunity; otkenoise, the punishment is," itc. &c. * Now, it seemed to Mr. Quirk, that the words which I have placed in italics and small capitals , met the case of poor Tittlebat Titmouse exactly. He stuck to that view of the case, till he almost began to think that he really had a kind of a sort of a charily and compassion for poor Tittlebat — kept out of his rights — tyran- nized over by a vulgar draper in Oxford Street — where , too , no doubt, he was half starved. — "It 's a great blessing that one "s got the means — and the inclination, to serve one's poor neigh- bours" — thought Quirk , as he swallowed glass after glass of the wijie that makelh glad the heart of man — and also soffe?is it ; — for the more he drank, the more and more pitiful became his mood — the more sensitive was he to compassionate suggestions; and • Blackstone's Commentaries , vol. iv. p. 135. 93 by the time thai lie had finished the decanter, he was all but in tears! Those viiinous feelings brought Ihcir own reward , loo — for, from lime to time, Ihey conjured up, as it were, the faint rainbow image of a bond conditioned for the payment of Tun Thousand I'ounos! To change the metaphor a little — by the time that old Quirk had reached his olfice in tiie morning, the heated iron had cooled. If his heart liad retained any of the maudlin softness of the pre- ceding evening , (he following palhelic letter from Titmouse might have made a very deep impression upon it, and fixed him , in (he benevolent and disinlerested mind of the old lawyer, as indeed his ''|)oor neighbour." The following is an exact copy of that lurid and eloquent composition. It had been written by Mr. Tit- mouse, all out of his own head ; and with his own hand had he left it at the office, at a late hour on the preceding evening. " To Messrs. Querk, Gamon, aiidS^wa.. " Gents, "¥•• Esteem'd Favour lies now before Me, which must Say have Given me Much Concern, seeing 1 Thought it was All Made up betwixt us That was of Such an IJiiplensaul Nnlurr on Tuesday night (ultimo) w'' I most humbly Own (and Acknowledge) was all alone and //(<<>«/// of My Own Fault, and Not in the Least Your's which behaved to me. Must say. In the most Res[iectful and superior manner that was possible to think Of, for 1 truly Say I never was In the Company of Such Imminent and Superior Gents before In my Life w'' will take my Oath sincerely Of, Gents. Please to consider the Hrandy (w'' do {WnAwas Uncumrnon StiJI'J such a flustrum As I Was In before, to , w'' was Evident to All of Us there then Asscmblid and very nalral like to be the Case Seeing I have nevir known what Peas of Mind was since I behaved in Such a Oudacious way w'' truly was the case I can't Deny to Such Gents as Yourselfs that were doing me such Good Fortune And Kindness to me as it would Re a Dreadful sin and shame (such as Trust I can never be Guilty of) to be (w'' am not) and never Can Be insen- sible Of, Gents do Consider all this Favourably because of my humble Amends w'» I here Make with the greatest Trouble in my 94 Mind that I have Had Ever Since, it was all of the Sperrits I Tooke wt made me Go Ou at such a Rate w'' was always (beg to Assure y most resp^ house) the Case Since my birth when I took Sperrits never so little Since I had the Meazles when I was 3 Years Old as I Well Recollect and hope it will be Born in Mind what is Ol'Ien Said, and I 'm Sure I 've read it Somewhere Else that People that Is Drunk Always speaks the Direct Contrarywise of their True and Real Thoughts, (w'- am Certain never was any Thing Truer in my case) so as I get the Money or What not, do whatever you Like v\'' are quite welcome to Do if you please, and No questions Asked, don't Mind saying by The Way It shall Be As Good as ^200 note in The way of your Resp* House if I Get the Estate of wh am much in Want of. Mr. Gamon (w'' is the most Upright gent that ever I came across in All my Life) will tell you that I Was Quite Cut up when he came After me in that kind Way and told him Then how I loved y Respect« House and would do all In My power to Serve You, which see if I Don't, I was in Such a rage with that Fellow (He 's only in a SHitalion in Tottenham C« Road) Huckaback which is his true name it was an oudacioiis thing, and have given him such a Precious Good hiding last Night as you never saw when on his Bendid Knees He asked the pardon of your Respectable House, says nothing of Me w'' w"i not allow because I said I would Not Forgive Him because he had not in- jured me: But you, w'' I wonder at his Impnde7tce \a Calling on Professional Gents like you, if I get the Estate shall never cease to Think well of you and mean While how full of Trouble I am Often Thinking Of Death which is the End of E\cry Thing And then in that Case who will the Properly Go to Seeing I Leave never a Brother or Sister Behind me. And Therefore Them That w-i Get it I Feel Sure of wi Not do So well by you (if You will Only believe Me) So Gents. This is All at present That I will Make so Bold to trouble you With About my Unhappy Affairs Only to say That am used most Intolerably Bad now In The Shop quite Tyranicall And Mr. Tag-Rag as Set Them All Against Me and 1 shall Never Get Another Situat" for want of a Char'- which he will give me sayR noths at Present of the Sort of Viclules w'' give me Now to Eat Since Monday last, For Which am Sure the Devil must have Come 95 Tn to That Gentleman (Mr. Tag-rag, he was only himself in a Situation in Uolboin once, getts the Business by marryc the widow w'' wonder At for he is nothing Particular to Look At.) I am y" Humbly to Command Till Death (always Humbly Begging pardon for the bad Conduct w'' was guilty of wIumi In Liquor Especially On an Empty Stomach, Having Taken Nothing all that Day excepting what I could not Eat ,) '• Your's most Respy "Tittlebat Titmouse. "P.S. Will Bring That young Man with Tears in hisEyes lo Beg }" pardon Over again If You Like w'' will Solemnly Swear if Required That he did It all of His own Head and that Have given It him For it in the Way Thai is Written Above And humbly Trust You Will make Me So happy Once more by writing To Me (if it is only a Line) To say You Have Thought No more of it. T. T. No. l) Closet C^Oxford Street. 14/7/18 — " This exquisitely-skilful epistle might indeed have brought tears into Mr. Quirk's eyes, if he had been used to the melting mood, which he was not ; having never been seen adually to shed a tear but once — when live-sixths of his little bill of costs (i 190, ias.id.) were taxed off in an action on a Bill of E\- change fori 13.* As it was, he tweedled the letter about in his hands for about live minutes, in a musing mood, and then stepped with it into Mr. Gammon's room. That gentleman took the letter with an air of curiosity, and read it over; at every sentence (if indeed a sentence there was in it) bursting into soft laughter. ^o^ * By a very recent statute (G and ^ Vict. c. 73, §5 37, 43) — passed in 1843 — salutary alterations have been made in Itie law regulating ibe tax- ation of the bills of allorneys and solicitors. F,\cept "under special circumstances," a cllcnl cannot now have Lis alloniey's bill taxed, after the lapse of twelve nioiilhs since il vsas delivered, if as much as one- sixlh of Ihe bill he struck off, the attorney or solicitor must pav the costs of the operation; if less than one-sixth, the client will have that satis- faction. 96 "Ha, ha, ha! "he laughed on concluding it — "a comical gen- tleman, Mr. Titmouse, upon my honour!" "Funny — isn't it rather?" interposed Mr, Quirk, standing with his hands fumbling about in his breeches pockets. ' • What a crawling despicable little rascal ! — ha , ha , ha ! " " Why — I don't quile say that, either," said Quirk, doubt- ingly — "I — don't exactly look at it in that light ! " "My dear Sir!" exclaimed Gammon, leaning back in his chair, aud laughing rather heartily, (at least for him.) "You can't leave off that laugh of yours," said Quirk a little tartly; "but I must say I don't see any thing in the letter to laugh at so particularly. It is written in a most respectful man- ner , and shows a proper feeling towards the House ! " "Ay! see how he speaks of 7ne.'" interrupted Gammon, with such a smile! — "And doesn't he speak so of me? and all of us?" "He'll let the house tread on. him till he can tread on the house, I dare say." "But you must own, Mr. Gammon, it shows we've licked him into shape a bit — eh?" "Oh, it 's a little vile creeping reptile now, and so it will he to the end of the chapter — of our proceedings ; and when we 've done every thing — really, Mr. Quirk ! if one ?/'ere apl to lose one's temper, it would be to see such a thing as that put into posses- sion of such a fortune.'' "That may he, Mr. Gammon; but I really — hem !- trust — I 've — a higher feeling ' — To right — the injured " — He could get DO further. "Hem!" exclaimed Gammon. The partners smiled at one another. A touch, or an at- tempted touch at disinterestedness! — and at Quirk's time of life! "But he 's now in a humour for training , at all events — isn't he?" exclaimed Quirk — "we 've something now to go to work upon — gradually." "Isn't that a leafoul of ?«»/ book, Mr. Quirk? — isn't that ex- actly what " — 97 "Well, well — wliat does it signify?" interrupted Quirk, rallier petulantly — "I 'vc got a crolcliet that '11 do for us, yet, about the matter of law, and make all right and light — so I "m going to Mortmain." "I 've got a little idea of my own of that sort, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon — " I 've got an extract from Co-Litt— . I can't imagine how either of them could have missed it; and, as Frankpledge dines with me lo-day, we shall talk it all over. But, by the way, Mr. Quirk, I should say, with all deference, that we 'M take no more notice of this fellow till we 've got some screw tight enough" — "Why — all that may be very well; but you see, Gammon, the fellow seems Ihe real heir, after all — and if Ae don't get it, no(mccan; and if Ac don't — wedon't! eh?" "There's a very great deal of force in that observation, Mr. Quirk — it gives one another view of the subject!" ■ — said Gam- mon emphatically : — and, tolerably well pleased with one another, they parted. If Quirk might be compared to an old file, Gam- mon was the oil! — so they got on, in the main , very well to- gether. It hardly signifies what was the result of their inter- views with their two conveyancers. The two partners met the next morning on ordinary business; and as each made no allu- sions whatever to the "crotchet" of the day before, it may be safely inferred that each had been satisfied by his conveyancer of having found out a mare's nest. "I think, by the way," said Mr. Gammon to Mr. Quirk, before they parted on the previous evening, "it may be as well, all things considered, to acknowledge the receipt of the fellow's note — eh? — Can't do any harm, you know, and civility costs nothing — hem !" "The very thing I was thinking of," replied Quirk, as he al- ways did, on hearing any suggestion from Mr. Gammon. So by that night's post was dispatched (post-paid) the following note to Mr. Titmouse : — "Messrs. Quirk, Gammon , and Snap have the pleasure of ac- Jinowledging the receipt of Mr. Titmouse's polite letter of last 2'en Thousand a-Year, I. 7 98 night's date; and earnaslly beg that he will not distress himself about the little incident that occurred at their office on Tuesday night, and which they assure him they have quite forgotten. They made ail allowances, however their feelings suffered at the time. They beg Mr. T, will give them credit for not losing sight of his interests, to the best of their ability; obstructed as they are, however, by numerous serious difficulties. If they should be hereafter overcome, he iway rest assured of their promptly communicating with him; and till then they trust Mr. T. will not inconvenience himself by calling on, or writing to them. " Saffron HiU, IblhJulylS—. "P. S. — Messrs. Q. G. and S. regret to hear that any unplea- santness has arisen (Gammon could hardly write for laughing) be- tween Mr. Titmouse and his friend Mr. Hicklebagle, who, they assure him , manifested a very warm interest in behalf of Mr. T., and conducted himself with the greatest propriety on the occa- sion of his calling upon Messrs. Q. G. and S. They happened at that moment to be engaged in matters of the highest import- ance; which will, they trust, explain any appearance of abrupt- ness they might have exhibited towards that gentleman. Perhaps Mr. Titmouse will be so obliging as to intimate as much to Mr. Hickerbag." There was an obvious reason for this polite allusion to Hucka- back. Gammon thought it very possible that that gentleman might be in Mr. Titmouse's confidence, and exercise a powerful induence over him hereafter; and that influence Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, - and Snap might find it well worth their while to secure beforehand. The moment that Titmouse, with breathless haste, had read over this mollifyingdocument, whichbeingdirected to his lodgings correctly, he obtained as soon as he had got home, after quitting Mr. Tag-rag, about ten o'clock, he hastened to his friend Hucka- back. That gentleman (who seemed now virtually recognised by Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap as Titmouse's confidant) shook his head ominously, exclaiming — ''Blarney, blarney!" and a bitter sneer settled on his disagreeable features, till he had read 99 down to the postscript; the perusal of which effected a sudden change in his feelings. He declared, with a great oath, thatMcssrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap were "perfect gentlemen," and would "do the right thing after all — Titmouse might depend upon it;" an assurance which greatly cheered Titmouse, to whose keen dis- cernment it never once occurred to refer Huckaback's altered tone to the right cause, viz. the lubricating quality of the postscript; and since Titmouse did not allude to it, no more did Mr. Hucka- back, although his own double misnomer stuck not a little in his throat. So elVectual, indeed, had been that most skilful post- script upon the p;trty at whom it had been aimed , that he exerted himself unceasingly to revive Titmouse's confidence in Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and so far succeeded , that Titmouse returned to his lodgings at a late hour, a somewhat happier, if not & iviser man than he had left them. By the time, however, that he had got into bed, having once more spelled over the note in question, he felt as despondent as ever, and thought that Hucka- back had not known what he had been talking about. He also ad- verted to an appareiiilij cureless allusion by Huckaback to the in- juries which had been inflicted upon him by Tilmouseon the Wed- nesday night: and which, by the way, Huckaback determined it should be no fault of his ifTilmouse easily forgot ! He hardly knew why — but he disliked this particularly. — Whom had he, how- ever, in the world, but Huckaback? In company with him alone, Titmouse felt that his pent-up feelings could discharge themselves. Huckaback had certainly a wonderful knack of keeping up Tit- mouse's spirits, whatever cause he fancied he might really have for depression. In short, he longed for the Sunday morning — ushering in a day of rest and sympathy. Titmouse would indeed then have to look back upon an agitating and miserable week, what with the dismal upsetting of his hopes in the manner I have de- scribed, and the tyrannical treatment which he had experienced at Tag-rag and Co.'s. His tormentor there, however, began at length, in sonic degree, to relax his active exertions against Titmouse, simply because of the exertion requisite for keeping them up. He attributed the pallid cheek and depressed manner of Titmouse en- tirely to the discipline which had been inflicted upon him at the 100 shop ; and was gratified at perceiving (hat all iiis other young men seemed , especially in his presence , to have imbibed his hatred of Titmouse. What produced in Tag-rag this hatred of Titmouse? Simply what had taken place on the Monday. Mr. Tag-rag's dig- nity and power had been doggedly set at nought by one of his shop- men, who had since refused to make the least submission, or offer any kind of apology. Such conduct struck at the root of subordi- nation in his great establishment. Again, there is perhaps nothing in the world so calculated to enrage a petty and vulgar mind to the highest pitch of malignity, as the cool persevering defiance of an inferior, whom it strives to despise, while it is only hatmg, feeling at the same time such to be the case. Tag-rag now and then, when he looked towards Titmouse, as he stood behind the counter, felt as though he could have killed the little ape. Titmouse attempted once or twice, during the week, to obtain a situation elsewhere, but in vain. He could expect no character from Tag-rag; and when the 10th of August should have arrived, what was to become of him? Thesewere the kind of thoughts often passing through his mind during tlie Sunday, which he and Huckaback spent together in unceasing conversation on the one absorbing event of the last week. Titmouse, poor little puppy, had dressed himself with just as much care as usual; but as he was giving the finishing touches at his toilet, pumping up grievous sighs every half minute, the sum of his reflections might be stated in the miserable signi- ficance of a quaint saying of Poor Richard's — "How hard is it to make an empty sack stand upright! " Although the sun shone as vividly and beautifully as on the preceding Sunday, to Titmouse's saddened eye there seemed a sort of gloom every where. Up and down the Park he and Huckaback walked , towards the close of the afternoon ; but Titmouse had not so elastic a strut as before. He felt empty and sinking. Every body seemed to know what a sad pretender he was: and the friends quitted the magic circle much earlier than had been usual with Tit- mouse. What with the fatigue of a long day's saunter, the vexa- tion of lia\ing had but a hasty, inferior, and unrefreshing meal, which did not deserve the name of dinner, and their unpleasant thoughts, both seemed depressed as they \\alked along the streets. 101 At length tlicyarrivcd at tlic open doors of a ;,'luoniy-lookingbuild- itig, into which two or three sad and prim-looking people were entering. After walking a few paces past the door — ''Do you know, Huck," said Titmouse, slopping, "I've often thought that — that — there 's soniething in Kriigion." "To be sure there is, for tliose that like it — who doubts it? It's all very well in its place, no doubt," replied Huckaback with much surprise, VNhich increased, as he fell himself being slowly swayed round towards the building in question. "But what of that?" "Oh, nothing; but — hem! hem!" replied Titmouse, sink- ing his voice to a whisper — "a touch of — religion — eh? — would not be so much amiss, just now! I feel — uncommon in- clined that way, somehow , 'pon my soul! " "Religion 's all very well. Titty, dear! — for them that has much to be thankful for; but devil take me! what have either your or mc to be" — "But, lluck — how do you know but we might ge/ something to be thankful for, by praying? — 1 've often heard of great things in that line — but — do come in with me, Iluck!" Huckaback stood for a moment irresolute, twirling about his cane, and looking rather dislastcl'ully towards the dingy building. "It won't answer," said he, faintly. Titmouse drew him nearer; but he suddenly started back. — "No! oh, 't is only a meeting- house. Til! Curse Dissenters, how I hate 'em! Isn't your pre- cious governor one in that line? Give me a regular-like, respectable church, with a proper steeple, and parson, and prayers, and an organ , and ail that! " Titmouse secretly acknowledged the force of these observa- tions; and the intelligent and piously disposed couple, with per- haps a just, but certainly a somewhat sudden regard for orthodoxy, were not long before they had found their way into a church where evening service was being performed. They ascended the gallery stair ; and seeing no reason to be ashamed of being at church, down they holh went , with loud clattering steps and a bold air , into the very central seat (which hap|)encd to be vacant) in the front of the gnllcry. Titmouse paid a most exemplary attention to what was 102 going on, kneeling, sitting, and standing with exact propriety, in the proper places; joining audibly in the responses, and keep- ing his eyes pretty steadily on the prayer-book, which he found lying there. He even rebuked Huckaback lor whispering (during one of the most solemn parts of the service) that "there was an un- common pretty gal in the next pew ! " — He thought that the cler- gyman was a remarkable Cne preacher, and said some things that he OT?/*/ have meant for him, Titmouse, in particular! "Curse me, Hucky!" said he heatedly, as soon as they had quitted the church, and were fairly in the street — "Curse me if — if — ever I felt so comfortable-like in my mind before , as I do now — see if I don't go again next Sunday !" "Lord, Tit, you don't rea% mean — eh? — it 's deuced dull work!" "Hang me if 1 don't, though! and if any thing should come of it — if I do but get the estate — (I wonder, now, where Mr. Gamy/ion goes to church. I should like to know ! — 1 'd go there regularly) — But if I do get the thing — you see if I don't" — "Ah, I don 't know; it 's not much use praying for money, Tit; I 've tried it myself, one or twice, but it didn't answer!" "I '11 take my oath you was staring at the gals all the while, Hucky ! " "Ah, Titty!" exclaimed Huckaback, and winked his eye, and put the tip of his forefinger to the tip of his nose , and laughed. Titmouse continued in what he doubtless imagined to be a devout frame of mind, for several minutes after quitting the church. But close by the aforesaid church, the devil had a thriving little establishment, in the shape of a cigar-shop; in which a showily dressed young Jewess sat behind the counter, right under- neath a glaring gas-light — with a narrow stripe of greasy black velvet across her forehead , ,-uid long ringlets resting on her shoul- ders — bandying slang with two or three other such creatures as Titmouse and Huckaback. Our friends entered and purchased a cigar a-picce, which they lit on the spot; and after each of them had exchanged an impudent wink w ith the Jewess , out they went, puHing away ^- all the remains of their piety ! When they had come to the end of their cigars they parted , each speeding home- 103 ward. Tilmouse, on reacliiug his lodgings, sank into profound depression. He felt an awful conviction that his visit to the cigar- shop had entirely spoiled the elTcct of his previous attendance at the church; and that, if so disposed, (and it served him right,) he might now sit and whistle for his ten thousand a-year. Thoughts such as these drove him nearly distracted. If, indeed , he had foreseen ha>ing to go through such another week as the one just over, I think it not impossible that before the arrival of the ensuing Sunday, he might have afforded a little employment to that ancient and gloomy functionary , a coroner, and his jury. At that time, however, inquests of this sort were matter-of-fact and melancholy afl'airs enough; which I doubt not would have been rather a f//.v- si/asivr from suicide, in the estimation of one who might be su|t- poscd ambitious of the cclai of a modern inquest; where, indeed, such strange antics are played by certain new performers as would suflice to revive the corpse , (if it were a corpse that had ever had a spark of sense or spirit in it.) and make it kick the coroner out of the room. * But to one of so high an ambition as Tittlebat Til- mouse, how delightful would it not have been, to anticipate be- coming (what bad been quite impracticable during life) the object of public attention after his death — by means of a llaming disser- tation by the coroner on his own zeal and spirit — the nature and extent of his rights, powers, and duties; — when high doctors are brow-beaten, the laws set at defiance, and public decency plucked by the beard, and the torn and bleeding hearts of survi- ving relatives still further agonized by an exposure, all quivering under the recent stroke, to the gaping vulgar ! Indeed, I some- times think that the object of certain coroners, now-a-days, is twofold; first, public — to disgust people with suicide, by showing what horrid proceedings will take place over their carcass- es ; and secondly, private — to get the means of studying anatomy hy posf mortems, which the said coroner never could procure iu his own practice; which enables us to account for some things one has lately seen, viz. that if a man come to his death by means of a waggon crushing his legs, the coroner institutes an exact exami- • This was written about the year 1338-9. 104 nation of llie structure of the hi/igsaad heart. I take it to be gel- tiijg now into a rule — the propriety whereof, some people think, cannot be doubted — namely , that bodies ought now to be opened only to prove that they ought not to have been opened ; an inquest must be held, in order to demonstrate that it need not have been held , except that certain fees thereby find their way into the pocket of the aforesaid coroner, which would otherwise not have done so. In short, such a coroner as I have in my eye may be compared to a great ape squatting on a corpse , furiously chattering and spitting at all around it ; and I am glad that it hath at last had wit enough lirst to shut the door before proceeding to its horrid tricks. Touching, by the way, the moral of suicide, it is a way which some have oi cutting the Gordian knot of the difliculties of life; v.hich having been done, possibly the very first thing made mani- fest to the spirit, after taking its mad leap into the dark may be — how very easily the said knot might have been untikd ; nay, that it was on the very jjoint of being untied, if the impatient spirit had stayed only a moment longer! I said it was not impossible that Mr. Titmouse might , under the circumstances alluded to , have done the deed which has called forth the above very natural and profound reflections; but, upon the whole, it is hardly ;;roitfJ/e; for he knew that by doing so he would (first) irreparably injure society, by depriving it of an en- lightened and invaluable member; (secondly,) inflict great indig- nity on his precious body , of which, during life, he had always taken the most alTeclionate care , by consigning it to burial in a cross road, at night-time, with a stake run through it,* and moreover peril the little soul that had just leaped out of it, by not having any burial-service said over his aforesaid remains; and (lastly) lose all chance of enjoying Ten Thousand a-Year — at least upon earth. 1 own I was a little startled (as I daresay was the * This mode of Irpatinp the remains of a /e/o rfe sf, was (on the 8ih July 1823) abolished by Act of Parliament (stal.4. Geo. IV.). The remains of a fell) lie se are ordered by that act to be buried privately in the churchyard, but without the performance of any rites of Christian burial. The I'rayer-book also |)rohibils llie '-oflice for the l)urial of the dead from beiinj used for any thai have laid \iolent hands ui)on theiiisehes." 105 pensive reader) at a passage of luournful si;;iiificaiiee in Mr. Til- iiiousc's last Idler to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, ami Snap, viz. — ■ "How full of trouble I am , often thinking ofdcatli, which is the end of e^ery thin;;;" but on carefully considering the context, I am disposed to think that the whole was only an astute device of Titmouse's, either to rouse the fears, or stimulate the feelings, or excite the hopes of the three arbiters of his destiny to whom it was addressed. Mr. Gammon, he thought, might be thereby moved to pity; while Mr. Quirk would probably be operated upon by fears, lest the sad contingency pointed at might deprive the house of one who would richly repay their exertions ; and by hopes of indefinite advantage, if they could by any means prevent its happening. That these gentlemen really did keenly scrutinize, and carefully weigh every expression in that letter, ridiculous as it was, and contemptible as, I fear, it showed its writer to be, is certain ; but it did not occur to them to compare with it the spirit, at least, and intention of their own answer to it. Did the latter document contain less cunning and insincerity, because it was couched in somewhat superior phraseology? They could conceal their selfish and over-reaching designs, while poor Titmouse ex- posed all his little mean-niindedncss and hypocrisy, simply be- cause he had not learned how to conceal it elTeclually. 'T was indeed a battle for the very same object, but between unequal combatants. Each was trying to take in the other. If Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap despised and loathed the man to whom they exhibited such anxious courtesy , Titmouse hated and feared those whom his interests compelled him for awhile to conciliate. Was there, in fact, a pin to choose between them ^except perhaps that Titmouse was, in a manner, excused by his necessities? But, in the meanwhile — to proceed — hiscircumstanceswcre becoming utterly desperate. He continued to endure great suffering at Mr. Tag-rag's during the day — the constant butt of the ridicule and insult of his amiable companions, and the v ictim of his employer's vile and vulgar spirit of haired and oppression. His spirit, (such as it was,) in short, was very nearly broken. Though he seized every opportunity that olTered, to enquire for another situation, he was unsuccessful; for all whom he applied to, spoke of the 106 slrict character Ihey should require, "before taking a new hand into their establishment." His occupation at nights, after quit- ting the shop , was twofold only — either to call upon Huckaback, (whose sympathy, however, he was exhausting rapidly,) or solace his feelings by walking down to Saffron Hill , and lingering about the closed office of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap — there was a kind of gratification even in that! He once or twice felt flustered even on catching a glimpse of the old housekeeper re- turning home with a pint of porter in her hand. How he would have rejoiced to get into her good graces , and accompany her into even the kitchen — when he would be on the premises, at least, and conversing with one of the establishment, of those who he believed could, with a stroke of their pens, turn this wilderness of a world into a paradise for him! But he dared not make any overtures in that quarter , for fear of their getting to the notice of the dreaded Messrs. Quirk , Gammon , and Snap. At length, no more than three or four shillings stood between him and utter destitution ; and the only person in the world to whom he could apply for even the most trivial assistance, was Huckaback — whom, however, he knew to be really little better off than himself; and whom, moreover, he felt to be treating him more and more coldly, as the week wore on, without his hearing of any the least tidings from Saffron Hill. Huckaback evidently felt now scarcely any interest or pleasure in the visits of his melancholy friend, and was plainly disinclined to talk about his affairs. At length he quite turned up his nose with disgust, whenever Titmouse took out the well-worn note of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, (which was almost dropping in pieces with being constantly carried about in his pocket, taken in and out, and folded and unfolded,) for the purpose of conning over its contents, as if there might yet linger in it some hitherto undiscovered source of consolation. Poor Titmouse, therefore, looked at it on every such occasion with as eager and vivid an interest as ever; but it was glanced at by Huckaback with a half- averted eye, and a cold drawling, yawning "Ya — a — as — I see — I — dare — say!" While his impressions of Titmouse's bright prospects were thus being rapidly effaced, his smarting 107 rccolleclions of the drubbing he had received became more distinct and frequent, his feelings of resentment more lively , nor the less so, because the expression of them had been stifled, (while he had considered the star of Titmouse to be in the ascendant,) till the time for setting them into motion and action, had gone by. In fact, the presence of Titmouse, suggesting such thoughts and recollections, became intolerable to Huckaback; and Titmouse's perceptions (dull as they naturally were, but a little quickened by recent suffering) gave him more and more distinct notice of this circumstance , at the precise time when he meditated applying for the loan of a few shillings. These feelings made him as humble towards Huckaback, and as tolerant of his increasing rudeness and ill-humour, as he felt abject towards Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; for, unless he could succeed in wringing some trifling loan from Huckaback , (if he really had it in his power to advance him amj thing,) Titmouse really could not conjecture what was to become of him. Various faint but unadroit hints and feelers of his had been thrown away upon Huckaback, who did not, or would not, comprehend them. At length, however, a sudden and fearful pressure compelled poor Titmouse to speak out. Gripe, the collector, called one morning for the poor's rates due from Mrs. Squallop, and drained her of almost every penny of ready money which she had by her. This threw the good woman upon her resources, to re|)lcnish her empty pocket — and down she came upon Titmouse — or rather, up she went to him; for his heart sank within him , one night on his return from the shop, having only just taken off his hat and lit his candle, as he heard the fat old termagant's well-known heavy step ascending the stairs, and approaching nearer and nearer to his door. Her loud impera- tive single knock vibrated through his very heart. "Oh, Mrs. Squallop! How dye do, Mrs. Squallop?" com- menced Titmouse faintly , when he had opened the door ; "Won't you take a chair'.'" with trepidation offering to the panting dame almost the only chair he had. "No — la'n'tcorae to slay, Mr. Titmouse, because, d'ye see, in coorse you've got a pound, at least, ready for me, as you promised long ago — and never more welcome ; there 's old Gripa 108 been here to-day, and had his hodious rales — ('dial the poor, say I! them as can't work should starve! — rales is a robbery!) — but howsomdever he's cleaned me out to-day; so, in coorse, I come up to j/o?/. Got it, Mr. Titmouse?" "I — I — I — 'pon my life, Mrs. Squallop, I 'm uncommon sorry " — "Oh, bother your sorrow, Mr. Titmouse! — out with the needful , for I can't stop palavering here." "I — 1 can't, so help me — !" gasped Titmouse, with the calmness of desperation. "You can't! And marry, Sir, why not, may I make bold to ask?" enquired Mrs. Squallop after a moment's pause, striving to choke down her rage. "P'r'aps you can get blood out of a stone, Mrs. Squallop ; it 's what /can't," replied Titmouse, striving to screw his courage up to the sticking place, to encounter one who was plainly bent upon mischief. "I 've got two shillings — there they are," throw- ing them on the table; "and cuss me if I 've another rap in the world; there, M'am! take 'em, do: and drive me desperate!" "You 're a liar, then, that's flat!" exclaimed xMrs. Squallop, slapping her hand upon the table, with a violence (hat made the candle quiver on it, and almost fall down. " You have the liim- pcrance," said she, sticking her arms a-kimbo, and commencing the address she had been preparing in her own mind ever since Mr. Gripe had quitted her house, "to stand there and tell me you 've got nothing in the world but them two shillings! Heugh ! Out on you, you oudacious fellow! — you jack-a-dandy ! You tell me you haven't got more than them two shillings, and yet turns out every Sunday morning of your life like a lord, with your pins, and your rings, and your chains, and your flne coat, and your gloves, and your spurs, and your dandy cane — ough! you whipper-snapper ! You 're a cheat — you 're a swindler, jack- a-dandy! You re the contempt of the whole court, you are — you jack-a-dandy! You 've got all my rent on your back, and so you've had every Sunday for three months, you cheat! — you low fellow ! — you ungrateful chap ! You 're a-robbing the widow and fatherless ! Look at me, and my six fatherless children down 109 there, you g;ood-for-nolhing, nasty, proud puppy! — cugh ! it makes me sick to see you. You dress yoursell out like my lord mayor! You 've bought a gold chain with my rent, you rascally cheat! You dress yoursell out? — Ha, ha! — you 're a nasty, mean-looking, humpty-dumpty, carroty-headed" — " You "d belter not say i/iat again , Mrs. Squaliop," quoth Tit- mouse, with a fierce glance. "Not say it again ! — ha, lia! Hoighty-toighty, carroty-haired jack-a-daudy ! — Why, you hop-o-niy-thumb! d'ye think I won't say whatever I choose, and in my own house, and to a man that can't pay his rent? You 're a Titmouse by name and by nature ; there a'n't a cockroach crawling in our kitchen that a'n't more harmless than you! — You 're a himperant cheat, and dandy, and knave, and a liar, and a red-haired rascal — and that in your teeth! (snapping her fingers.) Ough! Your name stinks iu the court. You 're a-taking of every body in as will trust you to a penny's amount. There 's poor old Cox, the tailor, with a sick wife and children, whom you "nc cheated this many months, all of his not having sperrit to summons you! But /'// set him upon you; you see if I don't — and I 'II hn>e my own , too, or I wouldn't give i/ial for the laws!" shouted Mrs. Squaliop, again furiously snapping her fingers in his face; and then pausing for breath after her eloquent invective. Now, what is the use," said Titmouse gently, being com- pletely cowed — "'now, what good ca?i it do to go on in this way, Mrs. Squaliop'.'" "Missus me no missus, Mr. Titmouse, but pay me my rent, you jack-a-danily ! You 've got my rent on your back, and on your little finger; and I '11 have it olf you before I 've done with you, I warrant you. I'm your landlady, and I'll sell you up; I'll have old Thumbscrew here the first thing in the morning, and distrain every thing, and you, too, you jackdaw , if any one would buy you, which they won't! I'll have my rent at last: I've been too easy with you, you ungrateful chap; for, mark, even Gripe this morning says, 'Haven't you a gentleman lodger up above? get him to pay you your own,' says he; and so I will. I 'm sick of all this, and I '11 have my rights! Here 's my son, 110 Jem, a far belter-looking chap than you. though ho ham' f ^ol hair like a sandy mop all under his chin , and he 's obligated for to work from one weeks end to another, in a paper cap and fustian jacket : and you — you painted jackanapes ! But now I have got you , and I '11 turn you inside out . though I know there 's nothing in you! But 1 'II try to get at your fine coats, and spurs, and trowsers, your chains and pins, and make something of them before I 've done \sith you, you jack-a-daudy !" — and the virago shook her fist at him. looking as though she had not yet uttered even half that was in her heart towards him. " [Alas, alas, unhappy Titmouse, much-enduring son of sorrow! I perceive that you now feel the sharpness of an angry female tongue; and indeed to me, not in the least approving of the many coarse and heart-splitting expressions which she uses, it seems, nevertheless , that she hath not gone exceeding far off the mark in much that she halh said; for, in truth, in your conduct there is notaliltle that to me, piteously inclined towards you as I am, yet appeareth obnoxious to the edge of this woman's reproaches. But think not, bewildered and not-with-sufficient-distinctness- discerniog-the-nature-of-things Titmouse! that she hath only a sharp and bitter tongue. In this woman behold a mother , audit may be that she will soften before you, who have plainly, as I hear, neither father nor mother. Oh me!] Poor Titmouse trembled violently; his lips quivered ; and the long pent-up tears forced their way at length over his eyelids, and fell fast down his cheeks. "Ah, you may well cry! — you may! But it 's too late ! — it 's my turn to cry now I Don't you think that I feel for my own flesh and blood, which is my six children? And isn't what 's mine theirs? And aren't you keeping the fatherless out of their own? It 's too bad of you — itis! and you know it is," continued Mrs. Squallop, vehemently. '■ They've got a mother — a kind — good — mother — to take- care of them," sobbed Titmouse; "but there 's been no one in the — the — world that cares a straw for?ne — this twenty — years!'' He fairly wept aloud. "Well, then, more 's the pi(y for you. If you had, they Ill wouldn't have let you make such a puppy of yourself— and at your landlady's cx{)ense, too. You know you 're a fool," said Mrs. Squallop , dropping her voice a little ; for she was a mother, after all, and she knew that what poor Titmouse had just stated was quite true. She tried hard to feed the fire of her wrath , by forcing into her thoughts e\ery aggravating topic against Tit- mouse that she could think of; but it became every moment harder and harder to do so, for she was consciously softening rapidly towards ihe weeping and miserable little object, on whom she had been heaping sucii >ioleut and bitter abuse. He was a great fool , to be sure — he was very fond of fine clothes — he knew no better — he had , however, paid his rent well enough till lately — he was a very quiet , well-disposed lodger, for all sf.e had known — he had given her youngest child a pear not long ago. Really, thought .Mrs. Squallop, I may have gone a leetle loo far. "Come — it a'n't no use crying in this way," she began, in an altered tone. -'It won't put money into your pocket, nor my rent into mine. You know you've wronged me, and I must he paid," she added, but in a still lower tone. She tried to cough away a certain rising disagreeable sensation about her throat; for Titmouse, having turned his back to hide the eitent of his emotions, seemed half-choked with suppressed sobs. "So you won't speak a word — not a word — to the woman you've injured so much?" enquired Mrs. Squallop, trying to assume a harsh tone; but her eyes were a little obstructed \\iih tears. "I— I— ra/i '/speak," sobbed Titmouse — "I— I feel ready to drop into a cold early grave! — every body hates me" — hereiie paused; and for some moments neither of them spoke. "I 've been kept on my legs the whole day about the town by Mr. Tag- rag, and had no dinner. I — 1 — wish I was dead! I do ! — you may take all 1 have — here it is," continued Titmouse, with his foot pushing towards Mrs. Squallop the old hair trunk that con- tained ail his little iinery. " I sha'n't want them much longer, for 1 'm turned out of my situation." This was loo much for Mrs. Squallop, and she was obliged to 112 wipe her full eyes with the corner of her apron , without saying a word. Her heart sniole her for the misery she had inflicted ou one who seemed quite broken down. Pity suddenly flew, flutter- ing his wings — soft dove ! — into her heart , and put to flight in an instant ail her enraged feelings. "Come, Mr. Titmouse," said she, in quite an altered tone, "never mind )ne; I 'm a plain- spoken woman enough, I dare say — and often say more than I mean — for I know I a'n't over particular when my blood 's up — but — lord! — I — I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head, poor chap ! — for all I 've said — no , not for double the rent you owe me. Come! don'tgoonso, Mr. Titmouse — what 's the use? — it's all quite — over — I 'm so sorry — Lud! if I had really thought" — she almost sobbed — "you 'd been so — so — why, I 'd have waited till to-morrow night before I'd said a word. But, Mr. Titmouse , since you haven't had any dinner, won't you have a mouthful of something — a bit of bread and cheese? — I 'II soon fetch you up a bit , and a drop of beer — we 've just had it in for our suppers." "No, thank you — 1 can't — I can't eat!" sobbed Titmouse. "Oh, bother it, but you shall! I 'II go down and fetch it up in half a minute, as sure as my name 's Squallop !" And out of the room and down-stairs she bustled , glad of a moment to re- cover herself. "Lord-a-mercy !" said she, on entering her room, to her eldest daughter and a neighbour who had just come in to sup- per— and while she hastily cut a thick hunch of bread, and a good slice of cheese — "there I 've been a-raling that poor little chap, up at the top room, (my dandy lodger, you know,) like any thing — and I really don't think he 's had a morsel of victuals in his belly this precious day ; and I 've made him cry , poor soul ! as if his heart would break. Pour us out half a pint of that beer, Sally — a g-oorf half pint, mind! — I 'm going to take it up- stairs directly. I 've gone a deal too far with him, I do think; but it 's all of that nasty old Gripe; I 've been wrong all the day through it! How I hate the sight of old Gripe ! What hodioiis looking people they do get to collect the rates and taxes, to be sure ! — Poor chap ," she continued , as she wiped out a plate with 1 113 her apron, and put into it the bread and cheese , together with a knife — "he offered me a chair when I went in, so uncommon civil-like, it took a good while before I could gel myself into the humour to i^ive it him as 1 wauled. And he's no father nor mother, (half of which has happened to ^o?/, Sal, and the rest will happen one of these days, you know — so you mind me while you ha>e me!) and he 's not such a very bad lodger, after all, though he does get a little behind-hand now and then , and though he turns out every Sunday like o lord, poor fool — as your poor dear falher used to say, 'with a shining back and empty belly.'" "But that 's no reason why honest people should be kept out of their own, to feed his pride," interposed her neighbour, a skinny old widow, who had never had cliick nor child, and was alwas behind-hand with her own rent; but whose effects were not worth dislraining upon. "1 'd get hold of some of his fine crincum-crancums and gimcracks, for security like, if I was you. I would, indeed." "Why — no, poor soul — I don't hardly like: he 's a vain creature, and puts every thing he can on his back, to be sure; but he a'n't quite a rof^ne, neither." "Ah, ha, Mr. Squallop — you 're such a simple soul! — Won 't my line gentleman make oft' with his finery after to-nighf?" "Well, I shouldn't have thought it! To be sure he may! Really, there can't be much harm in asking him (in a proper kind of way) to deposit one of his line things with me, by way of security — that ring of his, you know — eh? — Well, I'lMry it any how," said Mrs. Squallop , as she set offup-stairs. " I know what / should do, if so be he was a lodger oUnine, that 's all," said her visitor significantly, (as Mrs. Squallop quitted the room ,) vexed to find her supper so considerably and unex- pectedly diminished , especially as to the pot of porter, which she strongly suspected would not be replenished. " There ," said Mrs. Squallop , setting down on the table what she had brought for Titmouse, "there's a bit of supper for you ; and you 're welcome to it, 1 'm sure, Mr. Titmouse." "Thank you, thank you — I can't cat," said he casting, how- 'fvn 'I'liuitsa/itl ii-YciiT. I, 8 114 ever, upon the victuals a hungry eye, which belied what he saifl, while in his heart he longed to be left alone with them for about three minutes. " Come, don't be ashamed — fall to work — it 's good whole- some victuals," said she, lifting the table near to the edge of the bed, on the side of which he was sitting, and taking up the two shillings lying on the table— "and capital good beer, I warrant me; you 'II sleep like a top after it." "You 're uncommon kind, Mrs. Squallop; but I sba'n't get a wink of sleep to-night for thinking" — " Oh, bother your thinking! Let me begin to see you eat a bit. Well , I suppose you don't like to eat and drink before me , so I '11 go." [Here arose a sudden conflict in the good woman 's mind, whether or not she would act on the suggestion which had been put into her head down-stairs. She was on the point of yielding to the impulse of her own good-natured, though coarse feelings; but at last — ] ''I — I — daresay, Mr. Titmouse, you mean what 's right and straightforward," she stammered. "Yes, Mrs. Squallop — you may keep those two shillings; they 're the last farthing I have left in the whole world." "No — hem! — hem! — ahem ! I was just suddenly a-thinking — now can't you guess, Mr. Titmouse?" "What, Mrs. Squallop?" enquired Titmouse, meekly but anxiously. " Why — suppose now — if it were only to raise ten shillings with old Balls, round the corner, on one of those fine things of yours — your ring, say ! " [Titmouse's heart sank within him.] "Well, well - never mind — don't fear," said Mrs. Squallop, observing him suddenly turn pale again. " I — I only thought — but never mind! it don't signify — good-night! we can talk about that to-morrow —good-night — a good night's rest to you, Mr. Titmouse!" and the next moment he heard her heavy step de- scending the stairs. Some little lime elapsed before he could re- cover from the agitation into which he had been thrown by her last proposal; but within five minutes of her quitting the room, there stood before him , on the table , an empty plate and jug. 115 CHAPTER IV. "The beast! the fat old toad!" thought he, the inslani that he had finished masticating what had been supplied to liim by real charity and good-nature — "the vulgar wretch! — the nasty canting old hypocrite! — I saw what she was driving at all the while! — she had her eye on my ring! — She 'd have me pawn it at old Balls's — ha , ha ! — Catch me ! that 's all ! — Seven shil- lings a-week for this nasty hole ! — I '11 be bound I pay nearly half (lie rent of the whole house — the old cormorant! — out of what she gets from me ! How I hate her! More than half my salary goes into her greasy pocket! Cuss me if I couldn't have kicked her down-stairs — porter, bread and cheese, and all — while she was standing canting there ! — A snivelling old beldam ! — Pawn my ring ! ! — Lord ! ! " — Here he began to undress. " Ha ! I 'm up to her; she '11 be coming here to-morrow, \Nith that devil Thumbscrew, to distrain, I 11 be sworn. Well — I 'II take care of t/iese, any how;" and, kneeling down and unlocking his trunk, he took out of it his guard-chain, breast-pin, studs, and ring, carefully folded them up in paper, and depositing them in his trowsers' pockets, resolved that henceforth their nightly resting-place should be — under his pillow ; while during the day they should accompany his person whithersoever he went. Next he bethought himself of the two or three important papers to which Mr. Gammon had referred ; and, with tremulous eagerness, read them over once or twice, but without being able to extract from them the slightest clue to their real character and bearing. Then he folded them up in a half sheet of writing-paper, which he pro- ceeded to stitch carefully beneath the lining of his waistcoat : after which he blew out his slim candle, and with a heavy sigh got into bed. For some moments after he had blown out the candle did the image of it remain on his aching and excited retina; and just so long did the ihoxi^his of fen t/ioitsatid a-y car dv,c\l on his fancy, fading, however, quickly away amid the thickening gloom of doubts, and fears, and miseries, which oppressed him. There he lies, stretched on his bed. a wretched figure, lying on his breast, his head buried 8* 116 beneath his feverish arms. Anon , he turns round upon his back, stretches his wearied limbs to their uttermost, folds his arms on his breast, then buries them beneath the pillow , under his iiead. Now he turns on his right side, then on his left — presently he starts up, and with muttered curse shakes his little pillow, Hing- ing it down angrily. He cannot sleep — he cannot rest — he can- not keep still. Bursting with irritability , he gets out of bed , and steps to the \^indow, which opening wide, a slight gush of fresh air cools his hot face for a moment or two. His wearied eye looks upward and beholds the moon shining overhead in cold splendour, turning the clouds to gold as they flit past her, and shedding a softened lustre upon the tiled roofs and irregular chimney-pots — the only objects visible to him. No sound is heard, but occasionally the dismal cry of disappointed cat,^ the querulous voice «f the watchman, and the echo of the rumbling hubbub of Oxford Street. O miserable Titmouse! of what avail is it for thee thus to fix thy sorrowful lack-lustre eye upon the cold Queen of Night! At that moment there happened to be also gazing at the same glorious object, but at some two hundred miles' distance from London, a very different person, with very different feelings, and in very different circumstances. It was one of the angels of the earth — a pure-hearted and very beautiful girl; who, after a day of peaceful, innocent, and charitable employment, and having just quilted the piano, where her exquisite strains had soothed and delighted the feelings of her brother, harassed with political anxieties, had retired to her chamber for the night. A few moments before she was presented to the reader, she had ex- tinguished her taper, and dismissed her maid without her having discharged moru; than half her accustomed duties — telling her that she should linish undressing by the light of the moon, which then poured her soft radiance into every corner of the spacious but old-fashioned chamber. Then she drew her chair to the window- recess, and pushing open the window, sate before it, only par- tially undressed as she was , her hair dishevelled , her head lean- ing on her hand, gazing upon the scenery before her with tran- 117 quil adniiialion. Silence reigned absolutely. Not a sound issued from the ancient gro\es, which spread Car and wide on all sides of the fine old mansion in which she dwelt — solemn solitudes, nor yet less soothing than solemn! Was not the solitude enhanced by a glimpse she caught of a restless fawn, glancing in the distance across the avenue, as he siUntly changed the tree under which he slept? — Then the gentle breeze would enter her window, laden with sweet scents of which he had just been riding the coy flowers beneath, in their dewy repose, tended and pelted during the day by her own delicate hand! — Hcautiliil moon! — cold and chaste in Ihy skyey |)alace, studded with brilliant and innumerable gems, and shedding down thy rich and tender radiance upon this lovely seclusion — was there- upon the whole earth a more exquisite countenance then turned towards thee than hers? — Wrap thy white robe, dearest Kale, closer round thy fair bosom, lest the amorous night-breeze do thee hurt, for he growelh giddy with the sight of thy charms! Thy rich tresses , half-uncurled, are grow- ing damp — so it is time that thy blue eyes should seek repose. Hie thee, then, my love! — to yon antique couch, with its quaint carvings and satin draperies dimly \isible in the dusky shade, insiling thee to sleep: and having first bent in cheerful reverence before thy Maker — to bed ! — to bed ! — sweet Kate , nothing dis- turbing thy serene slumbers , or agitating that bcauliful bosom. — Hush I hush! — now she sleeps! It is well that thine eyes are closed in sleep; for behold — see ! — the brightness without is disappearing; sadness and gloom are settling on the face of na- ture; the tranquil night is changing her aspect; clouds are ga- thering, winds are moaning; the moon is gone: — but sleep on, sweet Kate — sleep on, dreaming not of dark days before thee — Oh, that thou couldst sleep on till the brightness re- turned ! After having stood thus leaning against the window for nearly half an hour. Titmouse, heavily sighing, returned to bed — but there he tossed about in wretched restlessness till nearly four o'clock in the morning. If be now and then sank into forgetful- ncss for a while , it was only to be harassed by the dicadlul image 118 of Mrs. Squallop, shouling at bim, teariug his hair, cufBughim, flinging a pot of porter in his face, opening his boies, tossing his clothes about, taking out his inxaiuable ornaments; by Tag-rag kicking him out of the shop; and Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap dashing past him in a fine carriage, with six horses, and paying no attention to him as he ran shouting and breathless after him; Huckaback following, kicking and pinching him behind. These were the few little bits of different coloured glass in a men- tal kaleidoscope, which, turned capriciously round, produced those innumerable fantastic combinations out of the simple and ordinary events of the day , which we call dreams — tricks of the wild sisters Fancy, when sober Reason has left her seat for a while. But this is fitter for the Royal Society than the bedroom of Tittlebat Titmouse; and I beg the reader's pardon. About six o'clock, Titmouse rose and dressed himself; and, slipping noiselessly and swiftly down stairs, and out of the court, in order to avoid all possibility of encountering his landlady or his tailor, soon found himself in Oxford Street. Not many people were stirring there. One or two men who passed him were smo- king their morning's pipe, with a half-awakened air, as if they had only just got out of a snug bed, in which ihey always slept every moment that they lay upon it. Titmouse almost envied Ihem! What a squalid figure he looked , as he paced up and down , till at length he saw the porter of Messrs. Tag-rag A.-. Co. opening the shop-door. He soon entered it, and commenced another jocund day in that delightful establishment. The amiable Mr. Tag-rag continued unaltered. "You 're at liberty to take yourself off, Sir, this very day — this moment. Sir; and a good riddance," said he, bitterly, during the course of the day, after demanding ofTitmouse how lie dared lo gi\e himself such sullen airs; 'and then we shall see how charming easy it is for gents like you to get another sitiwation, Sir! Your looks and manner is quite a recommendation , Sir! If I was you , Sir, I 'd raise my terms! You 're worth double what I give, Sir!" Titmouse made no reply. "What do you mean, Sir, by not answering me — eh. Sir?" suddenly demanded Mr. Tag-rag, with a look of fury. 119 "I dou't know what you 'd have me say, Sir. What am 1 to say, Sir?" enquired Titmouse, vilh a si;,'ii. "What, indeed! I should like to calcii you! Say, indeed! Only say a word — and out you go, neck and crop. Attend to that old lady coming in. Sir. And mind, Sir, I 've got my eye on you!" Titmouse did as he was bid; and Tag-rag, a bland smile suddenly beaming on his attractive Icalurcs, hurried down towards the door, to receive some lady-customers , whom he ob- served alighting from a carriage; and at that moment you would have sworn that he was one of the kindest-hearted sweetest- tempered men in the world. When at length //us day had come to a close. Titmouse, in- stead of repairing to his lodgings, set oir, with a heavy heart, to pay a visit to his excellent Iriend Huckaback, whom he knew to have received his quarter's salary the day bel'ore, and from whom he faintly hoped to succeed in extorting some trilling loan. "U you want to learn the value of money, /nj lo borruiv some ," says Poor Richard — and Titmouse was now going to learn that useful but bitter lesson. Oh , how disheartening was Mr. Hucka- back's reception of him! That gentleman, in answering the modest knock of Titmouse, suspecting who was his visitor, opened the door but a little way, and in that little way, with his hand on the latch , he stood , with a [tiainly repulsive look. "Oh! it's you. Titmouse, is it?" he commenced, coldly. 'Yes. I — I just want to speak a word to you — only a word or two, Uucky, if you aren't busy?" "Why, I was just going to go — but what d'ye want, Tit- mouse?" he enquired, in a freezing manner, not stirring from where he stood. ''Let me come inside a minute," implored Titmouse, feel- ing as if his little heart were really dropping out of him : and , in a most ungracious manner. Huckaback motioned him in. "Well," commenced Huckaback, with a chilling distrustful look. "Why, Huck, I know you 're a good-natured chap— you cou/dii/, just for a short time, lend me ten shill" — 120 "No, curse me if I can: and Ihal 's flat!" briskly iulerrupted Huckaback , finding his worst suspicions confirmed. "Why, Hucky, wasn't you only yesterday paid your salary?" "Well! — suppose I was? — what then? You 're a monstrous cool hand, Titmouse! I never!! So I 'm to lend to you, when I 'm star\iug myself! I 've received such a lot, too, haven't I!" "I thought we 'd always been friends, Hucky," said Titmouse faintly; "and so we shouldn't mind helping one anotherabit! Don't you remember, I once lent you half-a-crown?" " Half-a-crown ! — and that s nine mouths ago ! " "Do, Hucky, do lend me a few shillings. 'Pon my soul, I 've not a sixpence in the whole world." "Ha, ha! A pretty chap to borrow! You can pay so well! By George, Titmouse, you 're a cool hand!" "If you won't lend me, I must starve." ''Go lo my uncle's." [Tilmuuse groaned aloud.] "Well — and why not? What of that?" continued Huckaback, sharply and bitterly. "I dare say it wouldn't be the first lime you've done such a trick no more than me. I 've been obligated to do it. Why shouldn't you? A'n't there that ring?" "Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! that 's just what Mrs. Squallop said last night! " "Whew! She's down on you, is she! And you have the face to come to me! ! low — that 's a-going to be sold up, come to borrow! Lord , that 's good , any how ! A queer use that to make of one's friends; — il 's a taking them in, I say!" "Oh, Huck, Huck, if you only knew what a poor devil" — "Yes, thai 's what I was a-saying; but it a'n't 'poor devils' one lends money to so easily, I warrant me; though you a'n't such a poor devil — you 're only shamming! Where 'syour guard- chain, your studs, your breast-pin, your ring, and all that? Sell'em! if not, anyhow, pawn'em. Can't eat your cake and have it; fine back must have empty belly with us sort of chaps." "If you'll only be so uncommon kind as to lend me — this oDce — ten shillings," continued Titmouse in an imploring tone, "I'll bind myself, by a solemn oath, to pay you the very first moment I get what 's due to me from Tag-rag ; but d'ye mean to tell me, that iu case 122 I toas now to advance you ten shillings out of my snoall salary," continued Huckaback, apparently carelessly, "you 'd, for in- stance, pay me a hundred pounds out of your thousands?" "Oh, Lord! only you try me — do try me!" said Titmouse, eagerly. "Oh, I dare say!" interrupted Huckaback, smiling incredu- lously, and chinking some money in his trowsers' pocket. Tit- mouse heard it, and (as the phrase is) his leeth watered; aod he immediately swore such a tremendous oath as I dare not set down in writing, that if Huckaback would that evening lend him ten shillings. Titmouse would give him one hundred pounds out of the very lirst monies he got from the estate. "Ten shillings is a slapping slice out of myliltle salary — I shall have, by George, to go without lots of things I 'd intended getting; it 's really worth ten pounds to me, just now." "Why, dearHucky! 'pon my life, 'tis worth a hundred to me ! Mrs. Squallop will sell me out , bag and baggage , if I don't give her something to-morrow ! " "Well, if I really thought — hem! — would you mind giving me, now, a bit of black and white for it — just (as one might say) to show you was in earnest?" "I 'II do any thing you like; only let me feel the ten shillings in my fingers ! " "Well, no sooner said than done, if you 're a man of your word," said Huckaback, in a trice producing a bit of paper, and a pen and ink. "So, only just for the fun of it; but — Lord! what stutt'!— I 'm only bargaining for a hundred pounds of moon- shine. Ha, ha! I shall never see the colour of your money, not I; so I may as well say two hundred when I 'm about it, as one hundred" — "Why, hem! Two hundred, Huck, w rather a large figure; one hundred 's odds enough, I 'm sure!'' quoth Titmouse meekly. "P'r'aps, Tit, you forget the licking you gave me the other day," said Huckaback with sudden sternness. "Suppose I was to go to an attorney, and get the law of you, what a sight of damages I should have — three hundred pounds at least ! " L 123 Tilmouse appeared even yet hesitating. "Well, then!" said Ilucliaback, flinging down his pen, "sup- pose I liavc them damages yet" — " Come, come. Hucky, 't is all past and gone, ail that" — "Is it? Well, I never! I shall never be again the same man I was before that 'ere licking. I've a sort of a — a — of a — lecliiig inside, as if — my breast was — I shall carry it to my grave — curse me if I slia'n't ! " [It never once occurred to Titmouse, not having his friend Mr. Gammon at his elbow, that the plaintiff in the action o{ Huckaback V. Titmouse might have been slightly at a loss for a wHiwss of the assault; but something quite as good in its way — a heaven-sent suggestion — did occur to him.] "Ah," said Titmouse suddenly, "that 's true; and uncommon sorry am I; but still, a hundred pounds is a hundred pounds, and a large sum for the use often shillings, and a licking; but never you think it 's all moonshine about my business with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap! I didn't intend to have said a word but — you should only have heard what /'I'e heard to-day from those gents; hem! but I won't split again either!" he added, mysteriously. "Eh? What? Heard from those gents at Saffron Hill?" in- terrupted Huckaback briskly; "come, Titty, out with it— out with it ; no secrets between friends, Titty ! " "No, I 'II be hanged if I do — I won't spoil it all again; and now, since 1 've let out as much, which I didn't mean to do, I'll tell you soinelhing else — ten shillings is no use to me, I must have a pound." "Titty, Titty!" exclaimed Huckaback, with unaffected con- cern. "And won't give more than fifty for it when I gel my property cither" — [Huckaback whistled aloud, and with a signilicanl air buttoned up the pocket which contained the money; intima- ting that now the negotiation was all at an end, for thai Tit- mouse's new terms were quite out of the question ; ] " for I know where I can get twenty pounds easily, only I liked to come to a friend lirst." 124 "You aren't behaving much like a friend to one as has always been a fast friend of yours, Tilly! A pound I — I haven't got it to part with, that 's flat; so, if that 's really your lowest figure, why, you must even go to your other friend, and leave poor Hucky!" "Well, I don't mind saying only ten shillings," quoth Tit- mouse, fearing thai he had been going on rather too fast. "Ah, that 's something reasonable-like, Tilly! and to meet you like a friend , I '11 take lifly pounds instead of a hundred ; but you wont object now to — you know — a deposit; that ring of yours — well, well! it don't signify, since it goes against you: so now, here goes, a bit of paper for ten shillings, ha, ha!" and taking a pen, after a pause, in which he called to mind as much of the phraseology of money securities as he could, he drew up the following stringent document, which I give verbalim et liter- alim : — "Know all Men That you are Bound to Mr. R. Huckaback Promising the Bearer (on Demand) To Pay Fifty Pounds in cash out of the estate, if you Get it. (Value received.) •' (Witness,) 'i'id July 18 — "R. Huckaback. " "There, Titty — if you 're an honest man, and would do as you would be done by ," said Huckaback , after signing his own name asabove, handing the pen to Titmouse, "sign that ; just to show your honour, like — for, in course — baling the ten shillings I 've lent you — I sha'n't ever come on you for the money — get as much as you may." A blessed thought occurred to poor Titmouse in his extremity, viz. that there was no stamp on the above instrument, (and he had never seen a promissory-note or bill of exchange without one;) and he signed it instantly, with many fervent expressions of gratitude. Huckaback received the valuable security with appa- rently a careless air; and after cramming it into his pocket, as if it had been in reality only a bit of waste paper, counted out ten shillings into the eager hand of Titmouse; who, having thus most unexpectedly succeeded in his mission, soon afterwards departed — each of this pair of worthies fancying that he had succeeded ia 125 cheating ihe other. Huckahack, having very cordially shaken Titmouse by the hand, heartily damned him upon shutting the door on him; and then anxiously perused and re-perused his "security," wondering whether it was jiossible for Titmouse at any time Ihereal'ter to evade it, and considering by what means he could acquaint himself with the progress of Titmouse's affairs. Tiie latter gentleman, as he hurried homeward, dwell for a long while upon only one thought — how fortunate was the omission of his friend to ha\e a stamp upon his security! When and where, thought he, was it that he had heard that nothing would do without a stamp? However, he had got the ten shillings safe; and Huckaback might wait for his lifly pounds till — but in the meanwhile he. Titmouse, seemed to stand a fair chance of going to the dogs; the ten shillings, which he had just obtained with so much dilUciilty, were to lind their way immediately into the pockets of his landlady, whom it might pacify for a day or two, and to what quarter was he now to look for Ihe smallest assistance? What was to become of liim? Titmouse was a miserable fool; but thoughts such as these, in such circumstances as his, would have forced themselves into the mind of even a fool ! How could he avoid — oh , horrid thought! — soon parting with, or at least pawning , his ring and his other precious trinkets? He burst into a perspiration at the mere thought of seeing them hanging ticketed for sale in the win- dow of old Balls! As he slowly ascended the stairs which led to his apartment, he felt as if he were following some unseen con- ductor to a dungeon. He was not aware that all this while, although he heard no- thing from them, he occupied almost exclusively the thoughts of those distinguished practitioners In the law, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. They, in common with Huckaback, had an intense desire to share in his anticipated good fortune, and determined to do so according to their opportunities. The excel- lent Huckaback (a model of an usurer on a small scale) had promptly and adroitly seized hold of the very first opportunity that presented itself, for securing a little return hereafter for the ten shillings, with which he had so generously parted when he could so ill afford it; while Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap 126 were racking their brains, and, from time to time, those of Messrs. Mortmain and Frankpledge, to discover some instrument strong and large enough to cut a fat slice for themselves out of the fortune they were endeavouring, for that purpose, to put within the reach of Mr. Titmouse. A rule of three mode of slating the matter would be thus ; as the inconvenience of Huckaback's parting with his ten shillings and his waiver of damages for a very cruel assault, were to his contingent gain, hereafter, of lifiy pounds; so were Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's risk, exertions, outlay, and benefit conferred on Titmouse, to their contingent gain often thousand pounds. The principal point of dilTerence between them was — as to the mode of secw-i/ig- their future recompense; in which it may have been observed by the atlenti\e reader, with respect to the precipitancy of Huckaback and the hesitating caution of Messrs. Quirk, (lammon, and Snap, that — •■' this fools'' {e.g. Huckaback) "I'ushed in iv/iere angels " (i. e. Messrs. Quirk, Gam- mon , and Snap) "feared to Iread." Let me not, however, for a moment, insinuate that both these parties were actuated by only one motive, i. e. to make a prey of this little monkey viillionaire that was to be. 'T is true that Huckaback appears to have driven rather a hard bargain with liis distressed friend, (and almost every one who , being similarly situated , has occasion for such services as Titmouse sought from Huckaback, will (ind himself called upon to pay, in one way or another, pretty nearly the same price for them;) but it was attended with one good eflect; — for the specific interest in Titmouse's future prosperity, acquired by Huckaback, quickened the latter gentleman's energies and sharpened his wits in the service of his friend. But for this, indeed, it is probable that Mr. Huckaback's door would have be- come as hopelessly closed against Titmouse as was that of Messrs. Quirk , Gammon , and Snap. Some two or three nights after the little transaction between the two friends which I have been describing. Huckaback called upon Titmouse, and after greeting him rather cordially, told him that he had come to put him up to a trick upon the Saffron Hill people, that would tickle them into a little activity in his affairs. The trick was — the sending a letter to those gentlemen calculated to - but why attempt to characterise 127 it? I have the original document lying before me, which was sent by Titmouse tlic very next morning to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap ; and here follows a vcrbdlim copy of it : — ".Vo. 9, Closet Court, Oxford Street. "To Messrs. QvERK. A Co. "Gents, — Am Sorry (o Trouble You, But Being Drove quite desperate at my Troubles (which have bro« me to my Last Penny a Week ago) and Mrs. Squallop my Landlady w^ distrain on Me only that There Is nothing to distrain ou, Am Deter- mined to Go Abroad in a Week's Time, and shall Never come Any More back again with Great Grief «•' Is What I now Write To tell You Of (Hoping you will please Take No notice of It) So Need give Yourselves No Further Concern with my Concerns Seeing The Estate is Not To Be Had and Am Sorry you Sh'i Have Had so Much trouble with My AfVairs w'' c'l not Help. Sh'i have Much liked The Thing, only it Was Not worth Stopping For, or Would, but Since It Was not God's Will be Done which it ff^ill. Have raised a Trille On my Future Prospects (w'< am Certain There is Nothing In) from a Tnte Friend" [need it be guessed at whose instance these words had found their way into the letter?] "wi, was certainly uncommon inconvenient to That Person But He w' do Any thing to Do me good As he says Am going to raise A Little More from a Gent That docs Things of That Nature wj, will help me with Expense in Going Abroad (which place I Never mean to Return from.) Have fixed for the Ullh To Go on w'' Day Shall Take leave Of Mr. Tag-rag (who on my Return Shall be glad to See Buried or in the Workhouse.) Have wrote This letter Only to Save Y' Respectable Selves trouble w'> Trust You w^ not have Taken. "And Remain, "Gents, "¥»■ humble Unworthy servant, "T. Titmouse. "jP. 5, — Hope you will Particularly Remember me to Mr. Gamon. What is to become of me, know nothing, being so 128 troubled. Am Humbly Delermined not to employ any Gents in This mailer except y^ most Respectable House, and sh-i be most Truly Sorry to Go Abroad wh^ am realli/ Often thinking' of in 'Earnest. (Unless something Speedily Turns Up, favourable, T. T. — Sh07iV — 't is soon dune , and so the inalter ends." "Why, Ganiniou, you see, if he goes abroad," said Quirli, after a long pause — " we lose him for ever." " Pho ! — go abroad ! He 's too much for you , Mr. Quirk — he is indeed, ha , ha ! " "You 're fond of a laugh at my expense, Gammon; il'squilc pleasant — you enn't lliiiik how I like that laugh of yours!" "I beg your pardon, Mr. Quirk — but you really misunder- stand me; I was laughing only at the absurd inconsistency of the fellow: he's a most transparent little fool, and takes us for such. Go abroad I Ridiculous pretence! — ]n his precious postscript he undoes all — he says he is only often ihinkiiiy; of going — pshaw! — That the wretch is in great distress, is very probable; but it must go hard with him before he either com- mits suicide or goes abroad, I warrant him : I 've no fears on that score — but there/* a point in the letter that may be worth con- sidering — I mean the fellow's hint about borrowing money on his prospects." "Yes, to be sure — the very thing that struck me." [Gam- mon faintly smiled.] "I never thought much about the other part of the letter — all stuff about going abroad — pho! — IJul to be sure, if he 's trying to raise money, he may get into keen hands. — Do you really think he //«« been trying on any thing of the sort?" "Oh no — of course it 's only a little lie of his — or he must have found out some greater fool than himself, which I had not supposed possible. But however that may be, I really think, Mr. Quirk, it 's high time that we should take some decided step." "Well, — yes, it may be," said Quirk, slowly — "and I must say that Mortmain encouraged me a good deal the day before yesterday." "Well , and you know what Mr. Frankpledge" — "Oh, as to Frankpledge — hem ! " "What of Mr. Frankpledge, Mr. Quirk ?" enquired Gammon, rather tartly. 7Vrt Thous'ind a- Year, 1, a 130 ''There! (here! — Always the way — but what does it sig- nify? Come, come, Gammon, we know each other too well to quarrel! — I don't mean any thing disrespectful to Mr. Frank- pledge, but when Mortmain has been one's conveyancer these twenty years, and never once — hem! — but, however, he tells me that we are now standing on sure ground , or that he don't know what sure ground is, and sees no objection to our even taking preliminary steps in the matter, which indeed I begin to think it high time to do! — And as for securing ourselves in respect of any advances to Titmouse — he suggests our taking a bond, conditioned — say, for the payment of ;^500 or ;^1000 on demand, under cover of which one might advance him, you know, just such sums as, and when we pleased; one could stop when one thought fit; one could begin with three or four pounds a-week , and increase as his prospects improved — eh ! " "You know I've no objection to such an arrangement; but consider, Mr. Quirk, we must have patience; it will lake a long while to get our verdict, you know, and perhaps as long to secure it afterwards; and this horrid little wretch all the while on our hands; what the deuce to do with him, I really don't know!" "Humph, humph!" grunted Quirk, looking very earnestly and uneasily at Gammon. "And what I chielly fear is this, — suppose he should get dissatisfied with the amount of our advances, and, knowing the state and prospects of the cause, should Ihen turn restive?" "Ay, confound it, Gammon, all that should be looked to, shouldn't it?" interrupted Quirk, with an exceedingly chagrined air. " I always like to look a long way a-head! " "To be sure," continued Gammon thoughtfully; "by that time he may have got substantial friends about him, whom he could persuade to become security to us for further and past ad- vances." "Nay, now you name the thing, Gammon; it was what I was thinking of only the other day:" he dropped his voice — "Isn't there one or two of our own clients , hem " — "Why, certainly, there 's old Fang; I don't think it impos- 131 sible lie might be induced lo do a liltle usury — ft 's all he lives for, Mr. Quirk; and the security is good in reality , though per- haps not exactly marketable." "Nay; but, on second thoughts, why not do it myself , if any thing can be made of it ? " "That, however, will be for future consideration. In the mean time, we'd better send forTitmouse, and manage him a little more — discreetly, eh? We did not exactly hit it off last lime, did we, Mr. Quirk?" said (lammon , smiling rather sarcastically. "We must keep him at Tag-rag's, if the thing can be done for the present, at ail events." "To be sure; he couldn't then come buzzing about us, like a gad-fly; he 'd drive us mad in a week, I 'm sure." "Oh , I 'd rather give up every thing than submit to it. It can't be difficult for us, I should think , to bind him to our own terms — to put a bridle in the ass's mouth? Let us say that we insist on his signing an utulerlakiug to act implicitly according to our direc- tions in every thing." "Ay, to be sure; on pain of our instantly turning him to the right about. I fancy it will do now! It was just what I was thinking of!" "And, now, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, with as much of peremploriness in his tone as he could venture upon to Sir. Quirk, "you really must do me the favour to leave the management of this little wretch to me. Y'ou see, he seems to have taken — Heaven save the mark! — a fancy to me, poor fool! — and — and — it must be owned, we miscarried sadly, the other uight, on a certain grand occasion — eh?" Quirk siiook his head dissentingiy, "Well, then," continued Gammon, "upon one thing I am fixedly determined; one or the other of us shall undertake Tit- mouse, solely and singly. Pray, for Heaven's sake, tacklehim yourself— a disagreeable duty! You know, my denrSir, how in\;niiil)ly I lease every Ihingof real importance and dillicuity lo your very superior tact and experience; but this little matter — pshaw ! " "Come, come, Gammon, that 's a drop of sweet oil" — 132 Quirk might well say so, for he felt its softening, smoothing effects already. 'Upon my word and honour, Mr. Quirk, I'm in earnest. Pshaw ! — and you must know it. I know you too well , my dear Sir, to attempt to" — "Certainly," quoth Quirk, smiling shrewdly, " I must say, those must get up very early that can find Caleb Quirk napping." — Gammon felt at that moment that for several years he must have been a very early riser! And so the matter was arranged in the manner which Gammon had from the first wished and determined upon, i. e. that Mr. Titmouse should be left entirely to his manage- ment; and, after some little discussion as to the time and manner of the meditated advances, the partners parted. On entering his own room. Quirk, closing his door, stood for some time leaning against the side of the window, with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes instinctively resting on his banker's book, which lay on the table. He was in a very brown study : the subject on which his thoughts were busied, being the prudence or imprudence of leaving Titmouse thus in the hands of Gammon. It might be all very well for Quirk to assert his self-conlidence when in Gam- mon's presence; but he did not really feel it. He never left Gammon after any little difference of opinion , however friendly, without a secret suspicion that somehow or another Gammon had been too much for him, and always gained his purposes, without giving Quirk any handle of dissatisfaction. In fact. Quirk was - thoroughly afraid of Gammon, and Gammon knew it. In the present instance, an undefinable but increasing suspicion and discomfort forced him presently back again into Gammon's room. "Isay, Gammon, you understand, eh'l — Fair play , you know," he commenced, with a shy embarrassed air, ill concealed under a forced smile. "Pray, Mr. Quirk, what may be your meaning?" enquired Gammon with unusual tartness, with an astonished air, and blushing violently, which was not surprising; for ever since Quirk had quitted him. Gammon's thoughts had been occupied with only one question, viz., how he should go to work with Titmouse to satisfy him that he (Gammon) was the only member 133 of the firm that had a real disinterested regard for him, and so acquire a valuable control over him ! Thus occupied , the obser- vation of Quirk liad conipli'tcly (aUcn (laninion aback; and he lost his presence of mind, of course in sucii case his /t'?//;>f/- quickly following. " Will you favour me , Mr. Quirk , with an explanation of your extraordinarily absurd and ollensive obsersalion?" said he, reddening more and more as lie looked at Mr. Quirk. " You 're a queer hand , (iamnion," replied Quirk, with almost an equally surprised and embarrassed air. lor he could not resist a sort of conviction that Gammon had fathomed what had been passing in his mind. "What did you mean, .Air. Quirk , by your singular observa- tion just now?" said Gammon cahnly, having recovered his presence of mind. "Mean? AVhy, that — we 're both queer hands, Gammon, ha, ha, ha!" answered Quirk, with an anxious laugh. " I shall leave Titmouse entirely — entirclij, Mr. Quirk, in your hand; I will have nothing henceforth whatever to do with him. I am quite sick of him and his concerns already; I cannot bring myself to undertake such an affair, and that was what I was thinking of, — when " — "Eh? indeed! Well, lobesure! Only think !" said Quirk, dropping his voice, looking to see that the two doors were shut, ami resuming the chair which he had lately quitted, "What do you think lias been occurring to ma in my own room, just now? Whetlier it would suit us better to throw this monkey overboard, put ourselves conlidenlially in communication with the party in possession , and tell him that — hem ! — for a — eh? You under- stand ? a con-si-de-ra-lion — a suitable con-si-de-ra-(iou I " "Mr. Quirk! Heavens!" Gammon was really amazed. " W'ell? You needn't open your eyes so very wide , ]\Ir. Gam- mon — why shouldn't it be done? You know we wouldn't be satisfied with a trille , of course. But su[tpose he 'd agree to buy our silence with four or five thousand pounds, really, it 's well worth considering! I'pon my soul , Gammon, it /V a hard thin on him when one makes the case one's own I — no fault of his, and it is very hard for him to turn out, and for such a — eugh! — o 134 such a wretch as Titmouse; you 'd feel it yourself, Gainmou, if you were in his place , and I 'ra sure you 'd think that four or five thous — " "But is not Titmouse our Poor Neighbour?" said Gammon, with a sly smile. "Why, ///fl^* only one way of looking at it, Gammon! Per- haps the man we are going to eject does a vast deal of good with the property ; certainly he bears a very high name in the county — and fancy Titmouse with ten thousand a-year ! " — "Mr. Quirk, Mr. Quirk, it 's not to be thought of for a moment — not for a moment," interrupted Gammon seriously , and even somewhat peremptorily — " nothing should persuade me to be any party to such" — At this moment Snap burst into the room with a heated ap- pearance , and a chagrined air — " Pitch \. GruO—" he commenced, breathlessly — [This was a little pet action of poor Snap's: it was for slander uttered by the defendant (an ostler) against the plaintiff, (a water- man on a coach stand,) charging the plaintiff wilh having the jnange , on account of which a woman refused to marry him.] "Pitch V. Grub —just been tried at Guildhall. Witness bang up to the mark — words and special damage proved ; slapping speech from Sergeant Shout. Verdict for plaintiff — but only one farthing damages; and Lord Widdrington said, as the jury had given one farthing for damages, he would give him another for costs,* and that would make a halfpenny; on which the defen- dant's attorney tendered me — a halfpenny on the spot. Laughter in court — move for new trial first day of next term , and tip his lordship a rattler in the next Sunday's Flash!" * I suppose myself to be alluding here to a very oppressive statute, passed to clip Ifie wings of such gentlemen as Mr. Snap, by which it is enacted that, in actions for slander, if the jury find a verdict under forty shillings, e.g. as in the case in the text, for one farthing , the plaintiff shall be entitled to recover from the defendant only as much costs as damages, i. e. another farthing; a provision which has made many a poor pettifogger sneak out of court with a flea in his ear. .Since this was written , a still more stringent statute hath been made , which , 't is to be hoped, will put down the nuisance. 135 "Mr. Quirk," said Gammon sternly, "once for all, if this sort of low business is to go on , I 'II leave the lirm , come what will ! " |Il flickered across his mind that Titmouse wonld be a capital client to start with on his own account.] "I protest ournames will quite slink in the profession." "Good, Mr. Gammon, good!" interposed Snap, warmly; "your little action for the usury penalties the other day came olV so uncommon well ! the judge's compliment to you was so nice" — "Let me tell you, Mr. Snap," interrupted Gammon, redden- ing— "Pho! Come! Can't be helped — fortune of the war," — interrupted the head of the (irm , — " there's only one thing to be looked to, — Is Pitch solvent? — of course we 've security for costs out of pocket — eh, Snap?" Now the fact was, that poor Snap had picked up Pitch at one of the police offices, and, in his zeal for business, had undertaken his case on pure speculation, relying on the apparent strength of the plaintilf's case — Pitch being only a waterman attached to a coach stand. When, therefore, the very ominous question of Mr. Quirk met Snap's ear, he suddenly happened (at least, he chose to appear to think so) to hear himself called for from the clerk's room, and bolted out of Mr. Gammon's room rather un- ceremoniously. "Snap will be the ruin of the firm, Mr. Quirk," said Gam- mon , with an air of disgust. "But I really must get on with the brief I 'm drawing: so, Mr. Quirk, we can talk about Titmouse to-morrow ! " The brief he was drawing up was for a defendant who was going to nonsuit the plaintiff, (a man with a large family, who had kindly lent the defendant a considerable sum of money,) solely because of the wa/tl of a stamp. Quirk differed in opinion with Gammon , and, as he resumed his seat at his desk , he could not help writing ihe words, ''Quirk andSnap," and thinking how well such a lirm would sound and work — for Snap was verily a chip of the old block ! There will probably never be wauling those who will join in abusing and ridiculing attorneys and solicitors. Why? In almost 136 every action at law, or suit in equity, or proceeding which may, or may not, lead to one, each client conceives a natural dislike for his opponent's attorney or solicitor. If the plaintiff succeeds, he hates the defendant's aKorney for putting him (the said plaintiff) to so much expense, and causing him so much vexation and danger; and, when he comes to settle with his own attorney, there is not a little heart-burning in looking at his bill of costs , however reasonable. If the plaintiff' fails, of course it is through the ignorance and unskiifulness of his attorney or solicitor! and he hates almost equally his own, and his ojiponent's attorney! — Precisely so is it with a successful or unsuccessful difendant. In fact , an attorney or solicitor is almost always obliged to be acting adversely to some one of whom he at once makes an enemy ; for an attorney's weapons must necessarily be pointed almost invaria- bly at our pockets! He is necessarily, also, called into action in cases when all the worst passions of our nature — our hatred and revenge, and our self-interest — are set in motion. Consider the mischief which might be constantly done on a grand scale in so- ciety , if the vast majority of attorneys and solicitors were not ho- nourable and able men ! Conceive them , for a moment , disposed every where to stir up litigation, by availing themselves of their perfect acquaintance with almost all men's circumstances — art- fully inflaming irritable and vindictive clients, kindling, instead of stilling, family dissensions, and fomenting public strife — why, were they to do only a hundredth part of what it is thus in their power to do, our courts of justice would soon be doubled, together with the number of our judges, counsel, and attorneys; new jails must be built to hold the ruined litigants — and the in- solvent court enlarged, and in constant session throughout the year. But not all of this body of honourable and valuable men are entitled to this tribute of praise. There are a few Quirks , several Gammons, and many Snaps , in the profession of the law — men whose characters and doings often make fools visit the sins of in- dividuals upon the whole species; nay, there are far worse, as I have heard — but I must return to my narrative. On Friday night, the 28th July 18—, the slate of Mr. Tit- 137 mouse's affairs was this; he owed liis landlady £l , Di. ; his washerwoman, C*. ; his tailor, H, 8.v. — in all, three guineas; besides 10*. to Huckaback, (for Tittlebat's notion was, that on repajment at any time of lU.v. , Huckaback would be bound lo deliver up to him the document or voucher which he had given that i;entlenian ,) and a weekly accruing rent of 7a-. to his landlady, besides some very small sums lor collce, (alias chiccory,) tea, bread, and butter, d"c. To meet these serious liabilities, he had literally — ?iol onefarlliini^-. On returning to his lodgings that night, he found a line from Thumbscrew, his landlady's broker, informing him that, unless by ten o'clock on the next morning his arrears of rent were paid, he should distrain, and she would also give him notice to quit at the end of the week : tiiat nothing could induce her to give liim further time. He sat down in dismay on reading this threatening document; and, in sitting down, his eye fell on a bit of paper Ijing on the lluor, which must have been thrust under the door. From the marks on it, it was evident that he must have trod upon it in entering. It proved to be a summons from tiie Court of Re- quests, forj^l , 8a-. due to Job Cox, his tailor. He deposited it mechanically on the table; aud for a minute he dared hardly breathe. This seemed something really like a crisis. After a silent agony of half an hour's duration , he rose trem- bling from his chair, blew out his candle, and , in a few minutes' time, might have been seen standing with a pale and troubled face before the window of old Halls, the pawnbroker, peering through the suspended articles — watches, sugar-tongs, rings, brooches, spoons, pins, bracelets, knives and forks, seals, chains, dc. — to see whether any one else than old Halls were within. Having at length watched out a very pale and wretched-looking woman. Titmouse entered to take her [)lace; and after interchanging a few faltering words with the white-haired and hard-hearted old pawn- broker, produced his guard-chain , his breast-pin , and his ring, and obtained three pounds two shillings and sixpence on the se- curity of them. With this sum he slunk out of the shop, and calling on Cox, his tailor, paid his trembling old creditor the full 138 amount of his claim (£1 , 8*.) together with 4*., the expense of the summons — simply asking for a receipt, without uttering another word, for he felt almost choked. In the same way he dealt \\ith5Irs. Squallop, his landlady — not uttering one word, in reply to her profuse and voluble apologies, but pressing his lips between his teeth till the blood came from them, while his little heart seemed splitting within him. Then he walked up-stairs, with a desperate air — having jusl eighleen-pence in his pocket — all his omamejits gone — his washerwoman yet unpaid — his rent going on — several other little matters unsettled ; and the lOth of August approaching, when he expected to be dismissed penniless from Mr. Tag-rag's, and thrown on his own resources for sub- sistence. When he had regained his room, and having shut the door, had re-scated himself at his table, he felt for a moment as if he could have yelled. Starvation and Despair, two fiends, seemed sitting beside him in shadowy ghastliness, chilling and palsying him — petrifying his heart within him. What was he TO DO? Why had he been born? Why was he so much more persecuted and miserable than any one else? Visions of his ring, his breast-pin, his studs, stuck in a bit of card, with their price written above them , and hanging exposed to his view in old Balls' window, almost frenzied him. Thoughts such as these at length began to suggest others of a dreadful nature. * * * The means were at that instant within his reach. * * * A sharp knock at the door startled him out of the stupor into which he was sinking. He listened for a moment as if he were not certain that the sound was a real one. There seemed a ton-weight upon his heart, which a mighty sigh could lift for an instant, but not remove; and he was in the act of heaving a second such sigh, as he languidly opened the door — expecting to encounter Mr. Thumbscrew, or some of his myrmidons , who might not know of his recent settle- ment with his landlady. "Is this Mr. — Tit — Titmouse's?" enquired a genteel-looking young man. "Yes," replied Titmouse, sadly. "Are you Mr. Titmouse?" "Yes," he replied, more faintly than before. 139 " Oh — I have broiiglit you , Sir, a letter from Mr. Gammon, of the firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, solicitors, Saffron Hill," said the stranger, unconscious that his words shot a Hash of light into a lillle abyss of grief and despair before him, " He begged me to give this letter into your own hands, and said he hoped you 'd send him an answer by the first morning's post." "Yes — oh — I see — certainly — to be sure — with pleasure — hosv is Mr. Gammon? — uncommon kind of him - very humble respects to him — lake care to answer it," stammered Titmouse in a breath, hardly knowing whether he were standing on his head or his heels , and not quite certain where he was. "Good evening, Sir," replied the stranger, evidently a little surprised at Titmouse's manner, and withdrew. Titmouse shut his door. With prodigious trepidation of hand and flutter of spi- rits, he opened the letter— an enclosure meeting his eyes in the shape of a hank-note. "Oh Lord!" he murmured, turning v\hite as the sheet of paper he held. Then the letter dropped from his hand, and he stood as if stuititicd for some moments; but presently rapture darted through him; a five-pound bank-note was in his hand, and it had been enclosed in the following letter; — "35, Thnviet' Jnn, l^thJiihj 18—. " Mt dear Mr. Titmouse, "Y'our last note addressed to our firm, has given me the greatest pain, and I hasten, on my return from the country, to forward you the enclosed trifle, out of my own personal resour- ces — and I sincerely hope it will be of temporary service to you. May I beg the favour of your company on Sunday evening next, at seven o'clock, to take a glass of wine with me? I shall be quite alone and disengaged; and may have it in my power to make you some important communications, concerning matters in which, I assure you , I feel a very deep interest on your account. Begging the favour of an early answer to-morrow morning. I trust you will believe me, ever, my dear Sir, your most faithful humble servant, "Oily Gammon. "Tittlebat Titmouse, Esu." 140 The first balmy drop of (he long-expected golden shower had at length fallen upon the panting Titmouse. How polite — nay, how affectionate and respectful — was the note of Mr. Gammon! and, for the first time in his life, he saw himself addressed "Tittlebat Titmouse, Esquire." If his room had been large enough to admit of it, he would have skipped round it again and again in his frantic ecstacy. Having read over several times the blessed letter of Mr. Gammon, he hastily folded it up, crumpled up the bank-note in his hand, clapped his hat on his head, blew out his candle, rushed down- stairs as if a mad dog were at his heels, and iu three or four minutes' time might have been seen standing breathless before old Balls, whom he had almost electrified by asking, with an eager and joyous air, for a return of the articles which he had only an hour before pawned with him; at the same time laying down the duplicates and the bank-note. The latter, old Balls scrutinized with most anxious exactness, and even suspicion — but it seemed perfectly unexceptionable; so he re-delivered to Titmouse his precious ornaments, and the change out of his note, mi7uis a trifling sum for interest. Titmouse then started off at top speed to Huckaback ; but it suddenly occurring to him as pos- sible that that gentleman, on hearing of his good fortune, might look for an immediate repayment of the ten shillings he had re- cently lent to Titmouse, he stopped short — paused — and re- turned home. There he had hardly been scaled a moment, when down he pelted again, to buy a sheet of paper and a wafer or two, to write his letter to Mr. Gammon; which ha\ing ob- tained, he returned at the same speed, almost overturning his fat landlady, who looked after him as though he were a mad cat scampering up and down-stairs, and fearing that he had gone suddenly crazy. The note he wrote to Mr. Gammon was so ex- ceedingly extravagant, that, candid as I have (I trust) hitherto shown myself in the delineation of Mr. Titmouse's character, I cannot bring myself to give the aforesaid letter to the reader — making all allowances for the extraordinary excitement of its writer. 141 Sleep, Ibnt nii^jlit and moruiug, fuund aud left Mr. Titmouse the assured exulting master of Ten Thousand a-Year. Of this fact, the oftener he read Mr. Gammon's letter, the stronger be- came his convictions. 'T was undoubtedly rather a large infer- ence from small premises; but it secured him unspeakable happi- ness, for a liiiie , at a possible cost of future disappointment and misery, which he did not pause to consider. The fact is that logic (according to Dr. Watts, but not according to Dr. Whaleley, //it' ;•/;,'/(/ line of reason) is not a practical art. iSo one regards it in actual life; observe, therefore, folks on all hands constantly acting like Tittlebat Titmouse in the case before us. His con- clusioii was — that he had become the certain master of ten thousand a-year; Ins premises were — what the reader has seen. I do not, however, mean to say, that if the reader be a youth hot from Oxford, he may not be able to prove, by a very refined and ingenious argument, that Titmouse was, in what he did above, a fine natural logician ; for I recollect that some great philosopher hath demonstrated, by a famous argument, that there is nothing ANY where: and no one that I have heard of, hath ever been able to prove the contrary. By six o'clock the next morning, Titmouse had, with his own hand, dropped his answer into the letter-box upon the door of Mr. Gammon's chambers in Thavics' Inn; in which answer he had , witti numerous expressions of profound respect and grati- tude, accepted Mr. Gammon's polite invitation. A very happy man felt Titmouse, as he returned to Oxford Street; entering Messrs. Tag-rag's premises with alacrity, just as they were being opened, and volunteering his assistance in numerous things beyond his usual province, \>ith singular briskness and energy; as if conscious that by doing so he was greatly gratifying Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, whose wishes upon the subject he knew. He displayed such unwonted cheerfulness and patient good-nature throughout the day, that one of his compa- nions, a serious youth, in a white neckerchief, black clothes, and with a blessed countenance — the only professing pious per- son in the establishment — took an occasion to ask him, in a mysterious whisper, 'whether he had not got converted." and 142 whether he would, at six o'clock in the moruiog, accompany ihe speaker to a room io the neighbourhood, where he (the youth aforesaid) was going to conduct an exhortation and prayer meet- ing! Titmouse refused — but not without a few qualms ; for luck certainly seemed to be smiling on him , and he felt that he ought to be grateful for it; but then, he at length reflected, the proper place for that sort of thing would be a regular church — to which he accordingly resoI\ed to go. This change of manners Tag-rag, however, looked upon as assumed only to afl'rout him; seeing nothing but impertinence and defiance in all that Titmouse did — as if the nearer Titmouse got to the end of his bondage — i, e. the 10th of August — the lighter-hearted he grew! Titmouse resolved religiously to keep his own counsel; to avoid even — at all events for the present — communicating^ with Huckaback. On the ensuing Sunday he rose very early, and took nearly twice as long a lime as usual to dress — by reason of his often falling into many delicious and momentarily intoxicating reveries. By eleven o'clock he might have been seen entering the gallery of St, Andrew's Church, Holboru; where he considered that doubt- less Mr. Gammon, who lived in the neighbourhood, might have a seat. He asked three or four pew-openers, both below and above stairs, if they knew which was Mr. Gammon's pew — Mr. Gam- mon of Thavies' Inn ; not dreaming of presumptuously going to the pew, but of sitting in some place which commanded a view of it. Mr. Gammon, I need hardly say, was quite unknown there — no one had ever heard of such a person : nevertheless Titmouse, (albeit a little galled at being, in spite of his elegant appearance, slipped into a back seat in the gallery,) remained to the close of the service — but his thoughts wandered grievously the whole time. Having quitted the church in a buoyant humour, he sauntered in the direction of Hyde Park. How soon might he become, instead of a mere spectator as heretofore, a partaker in its glories! The dawn of the day of fortune was on his long-be- nighted soul; and he could hardly subdue his excited feelings. Having eaten nothing but a couple of biscuits during the day, as the clock struck seven he made his punctual appearance at Mr. Gammon's, with a pair of span-new white kid gloves on; 143 and somewhat flurried, was speedily ushered, by a coniforl- able-looking elderly I'emale servant, into Mr. Gammon's room. Mr. Titmouse was dressed just as he had been when first pre- sented to the reader, sallying forth into Oxford Street. Mr. Gam- moa,.\vho was sitting reading the Sunday Flash at a table on which stood a couple of decanters, several wine-glasses, and one or two dishes of fruit, rose and received his distinguished visitor with the most delightful alTability. "I am most ha[)py , Mr. Titmouse , to see you in this friendly way," said he, shaking him cordially by the hand. "Oh, don't name it, Sir ! " quoth Titmouse rather indistinctly, and hastily running his hand through his hair. "I 've nothing, you see, to offer you but a little fruit, and a glass of fair port or sherry. You see I am a very quiet man on Sundays!" " Particular fond of horn it was a cir- cumstance that might be serviceable. "You see, Mr. Titmouse, mine 's only a small bachelor's estab- lishment, and I cannot put my old servant out of the way by having my friends to dinner" — [quite forgetting that the day 144 before he had entertained at least siv friends, including Mr. Frankpledge — but, the idea of going through a dinner li^/Z/iiT//'. TU7nonse !\ And now, inexperienced Titmouse ! unacquainted with the potent qualities of wine, I warn you to be cautious how you drink many glasses, for you cannot calculate the effect which they will have upon you; and, indeed, methinks that with this man you have a game to play which will not admit of much wine being drunk. Be you, therefore, on your guard; for wine is like a - strong serpent, who will creep unperceivedly into your empty head, and coil himself up therein, until at length he begins to move about — and all things are as naught to you ! "Oh, Sir, 'pon my honour, beg you won't name it — all one to me, Sir! — Beautiful wine this, Sir." "Pretty fair, I think — certainly rather old ; — but what fruit will you take — raspberries or cherries? " "Why — a — I 've so lately dined," replied Titmouse, alluding to the brace of biscuits on which he had luxuriated several hours before. He would have preferred the cherries, but did not feel quite at his ease how to dispose of the stones nicely — gracefully — so he took a very few raspberries upon his plate, and eat them slowly , and with a modest and timid air. "Well, Mr. Titmouse," commenced Gammon with an air of concern , "I was really much distressed by your last letter! " "Uncommon glad to hear it. Sir — knew you would, Sir — you 're so kind-hearted ; — all quite true , Sir ! " "I had no idea that you were reduced to such straits," said Gammon in a sympathizing tone, but settling his eye involun- tarily on the ring of Titmouse. "Quite dreadful. Sir — 'pon my soul, dreadful ; and such usage at Mr. Tag-rag's!" "But you mustn't think of going abroad — away from all your friends, Mr. Titmouse." '■'■Abroad, Sir!" interrupted Titmouse with anxious but sub- dued eagerness; "never thought of such a thing!" "Oh! I — I thought" — ^ "There isn't a word of truth inij., Sir; and if you 've heard I 145 so, it must have been from that oudacious fellow that called on you — he 'ssiicli a liar — if you knew him as well as 1 do, Sir!" said Titmouse with a confident air, quite losing sight of his piteous letter to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap — "No, Sir — shall stay, and slick to friends that slick lo me." "Take another glass of wine, Mr. Titmouse," interrupted Gammon cordially, and Titmouse obeyed him ; but while he was pouring itoul, a sudden recollection of his letter Hashing across his mind, satisfied him that he stood detected in a flat lie before Mr. Gammon , and he blushed scarlet. "Do you like the sherry?" enquired Gammon, perfectly aware of what was passing through the little mind of his guest, and wishing to divert his thoughts. Titmouse answered in the aflirmalive: and proceeded to pour forth such a number of apo- logies for his own behaviour at Saffron Hill, and that of Huck- aback on the subsequent occasion, as Gammon found it diflicult to stop, over and over again assuring him that all had been en- tirely forgiven and even forgotten. When Titmouse came lo the remillance of the live pounds — "Don't mention it, my dear Sir," interrupted Gammon very blandly; "it gave me, I assure you, far greater satisfaction to send it, than you to receive it. I hope it has a little relieved you?" "I think so. Sir ! I was, 'ponmylife, on my very last legs." "When things come to the worst, they often mend, Mr. Tit- mouse ! I told Mr. Quirk ("who, to do him justice, came at last into my viewsj that, however premature, and perhaps impru- dent it might be in us to go so far, I could not help relieving your present necessities, even out of my own resources." [Oh, Gammon, Gammon!] "How uncommon kind of you. Sir!" exclaimed Titmouse. "Not in the least, my dear Sir — (pray fill another glass, Mr. Titmouse!) You see Mr. Quirk is quite a man of business — and our profession too often affords instances of persons whose hearts contract as their purses expand , Mr. Titmouse — ha ! ha ! Indeed, those who make their money as hard as Mr. Quirk, are apt to be slow at parting with it, and very suspicious!" Ten Thousand a-Y ear. I. 10 146 "Well, I hope no offence, Sir; but really I thought as much, directly I saw that old gent." "Ah — but now he is embarked, heart and soul, in the affair." "No! /5 he really, Sir?" enquired Titmouse, eagerly. "That is," replied Gammon quickly , "so long as I am at his elbow, urging him on — for he wants some one who — hem! In fact, my dear Sir, ever since I had the good fortune !o make the discovery, which happily brought us acquainted with each other, Mr. Titmouse," [it was old Quirk, as the reader will by and by find, who had made the discovery, and Gammon had for a long time thrown cold water on it,] "I have been doing all I could with him, and I trust I may say, have at last got the thing into shape." '•I 'II take my oath, Sir," said Titmouse excitedly , "I never was so much struck with any one in all my born days as I was with you. Sir, when you first came to my emp — to Mr. Tag-rag's, Sir — Lord , Sir, how uncommon sharp you seemed ! " Gammon smiled with a deprecating air, and sipped his wine in silence; but there was great sweetness in the expression of his counte- nance. Poor Titmouse's doubts, hopes, and fears, were rapidly being sublimed into a reverence for Gammon ; * ♦ * "I certainly quite agree with Mr. Quiik," said Gammon pre- sently, "that the difficulties in our way are of the most serious description. To speak, for an instant only, of the risk we our- selves incur personally — would you believe it, my dear Mr. Tit- mouse? — in such a disgraceful stale are our laws, that we can't gratify our feelings by taking up your cause, without rendering ourselves liable to imprisonment for Heaven knows how long, and a fine that would be ruin itself, if we should be found out!" Titmouse continued silent, his wine-glass in his hand arrested in its way to his mouth; which, together with his eyes, were opened to their widest extent, as he stared with a kind of terror uponMr. Gammon. — ''Jre we, then, unreasonable, my dearSir, in entreating you to be cautious — nay, in insisting on your compliance with our wishes, in all that we shall deem prudent and necessary, when not only your own best interests, but our 147 characlors, liberties, and fordinos arc staked on llie issue of this great enterprise? I am sure, " continued Gammon, witii great emotion, "you will feel lor us, Air. Titmouse. I see you do!" Gammon put his hand over his eyes, in order, apparently, to conceal his emotion , but really to observe what effect he had produced upon Titmouse. The conjoint inJluence of Gammon's wine and eloquence not a little agitated Titmouse, in whose eyes stood tears. "I '11 do any thing — anything. Sir," he almost sobbed. "Oh! all we wish is to be allowed to serve you effectually; and to enable us to do that" — "Tell me to get into a soot-bag, and lie hid in a coal-hole, and see if I won't do it! " "What! a coal-hole? Would you, then, even stop at Tag-rag andCo.'s?" " Ye-e-e-c-s, Sir — hem! hem! That is, till the fe«//t of next month, when my time 's up." "Ah! — ay! — oh, I understand! Another glass, Mr. Tit- mouse," said Gammon, pouring himself out some more wine; and observing, while Titmouse followed his example, that there was an unsteadiness in his motions of a very ditfcrent description from that which he had exhibited at the commencement of the evaning — at the same time wondering what the deuce they should do with him after the tejitk of August. "You see, / have the utmost confidence in you, and had so from the lirst happy moment when we met; but Mr. Quirk is rather sus — In short, to prevent misunderstanding (as he says,) Mr. Quirk is anxious that you should give a written promise." (Tit- mouse looked eagerly about for writing materials.) "No, not now, but in a day or two's lime. I confess, my dear Mr. Tit- mouse, if / might have decided on the matter, I should have been satisfied with your verbal promise; but I must say, Mr. Quirk's grey hairs seem to have made him quite — eh! you understand? Don't you think so , Mr. Titmouse? " "To be sure! 'pon my honour, Mr. Gammon!" replied Tit- mouse; not very distinctly understanding, however, what he was so energetically assenting to. 10* 148 "I dare say you wonder why we wish you lo slop a few months longer at your present hiding-place at Tag-rag's?" ''Can't, possibly! — after the tenth of next month. Sir," replied Titmouse eagerly. ' ' But as soon as we begin lo fire off our guns against the enemy — Lord, my dear Sir, if ihey could only find out, you know, where to get at you — you would never live to enjoy your leii thou- sand a-year ! They 'd either poison or kidnap you — get you out of the way, unless you keep out of tlieir way: and if you will but consent to keep snug at Tag-rag's for a wiiile, who'd suspect where you was? We could easily arrange with your friend Tag-rag that you should" — "My stars! I 'd give something to hear you tell Tag-rag — why , I wonder what he 'II do ] " '•Make you very comfortable, and let you have your own way iu every thing — that you may rely upon ! " "Go to the play, for instance, whenever I want, and do all that sort of thing?" "Nay, try! anything! — And as for money, I 've persuaded Mr. Quirk to consent to our advancing you a certain sum perweck, from the present time, while the cause is going on," — (Tit- mouse's heart began to beat fast,) — " in order to place you abo\e absolute inconvenience; and when you consider the awful sums we shall have to disburse — cash out of pocket — (the tongues of counsel, you know, are set on gold springs, and only gold keys open their lips!) — for court-fees, and a thousand other indis- pensable matters, I should candidly say that four thousand pounds of hard cash out of pocket, advanced by our firm in your case, would be the very lowest." (Titmouse stared at him with an ex- pression of stupid wonder.) "Yes — four thousand pounds, Mr. Titmouse, at the very least — the iw// least." Again he paused, keenly scrutinizing Titmouse's features by the light of the candles, which just then were brought in. "You seem surprised, Mr. Titmouse." "Why — why — where 's all the money to come from , Sir?" exclaimed Titmouse, aghast. " Ah ! that is indeed a fearful question ," — replied Gammon, l/i9 with a very serious air ; '' but at my request , our firm has agreed to make the necessary advances ; and also (for / could not bear the sight of your distress, Mr. Titmouse!) to supply your necessities liberally in the mean time, as I was saying." " Wont you take another glass of wine, Mr. Gammon?" sud- denly enquired Titmouse, with a coulident air. "With all my heart, Mr. Titmouse! I 'm delighted that you approve of it. 1 paid enough for it, 1 can warrant you." "Cuss me if ever I tasted such wine! Uncommon! Come — no heel-taps , Mr. Gammon — here goes — let 's drink — success lo (he alfair !" " With all my heart, my dear Sir — with all my heart. Suc- cess to the thing — amen!" and Gammon drained his glass; so did Tilniouse. "Ah! Mr. Titmouse, you 'II soon have wine enough lo float a frigate — and indeed what not — with ten thou- sand a-year?" "And all the back-rents, you know — ha, ha!" "Yes — lo be sure! — the back-rents! The sweetest estate that is to bo found in all Yorkshire ! Gracious, Mr. Titmouse ! " continued Gammon, with an excited air — ''what may you not do? Go where you like — do what you like — get into Parliament — marry some lovely woman of high rank ! " "Lord, Mr, Gammon! — you a'n"l dreaming? Nor I? But now , in course , you must be paid handsome for your trouble ! — Only say how much — Name your sum! What you please ! You only get me all you 've said — and I 'II — "For my part, I wish to rely entirely on your mere word of honour. Between gentlemen , you know — my dear Sir" — "You only try me, Sir." "But you see, Mr. Quirk's getting old, and naturally is an- xious to provide for those whom he will leave behind him — and so Mr. Snap agreed with him — two to one against me, Mr. Tit- mouse — of course they carried the day — two to one." "Never mind that! — only say the figure, Sir!" cried Tit- mouse, eagerly. "A single year's income, only — ten thousand pounds will hardly" — 150 "Ten thousand pounds! By jingo, but thai is a slice out of the cake! Oh, Lord!" quoth Titmouse, looking aghast. "A mere crumb, my dear Sir! — a trifle! Why, we are going to give you that sum at least every year — and indeed it was sug- gested to our firm, that unless you ga\e us at least a sum of twenty- live thousand pounds — in fact, we were recommended to look out for some other heir." "Oh dear! oh 5Ir. Gammon," cried Titmouse, hastily — "it's not to be thought of. Sir." "So I said; and as for throwing it up — to be sure we shall have ourselves to borrow large sums to carry on the war — and un- less we have your bond for at least ten thousand pounds , we can- not raise a farthing." "Well — curse me, if you sha'u't do what you like! — Give me your hand, and do what you like, Mr. Gammon!" "Thank you, Mr. Titmouse ! How I like a glass of wine with a friend in this quiet way! — you '11 always (iud me rejoiced to show " — "Your hand! By George — Didn't I take a liking to you from the first? But to speak my mind a bit — as for Mr. Quirk — excuse me — but he 's a cur — cur — cur — mudg — mudg — mudg — eon — hem! " "Hope you 've not been so imprudent, my dear Titmouse, ' threw in Mr. Gammon, rather anxiously, "as to borrow money -eh?" "Devil knows, and devil cares! No stamp, I know — bang up to the mark" — here he winked an eye, and put his finger to his nose — " wide awake — Huck — uck — uck — uck ! how his name sti — sticks. Your hand , Mr. Gammon — here — this, this way — what are you bobbing your head about for? Ah, ha! — The floor — 'pon my life! — how funny — it's like being at sea — up , dow n — oh dear ! '' — he clapped his hand to his head. [Pythagoras has finely observed, that a man is not to be con- sidered dead drunk till he lies on the floor, and stretches out his arms and legs to prevent his going lower.] See-saw, see-saw, up and down, up and down, went every thing about him. Kow he felt sinking through the floor, theq 151 genlly rising towards the ceiling. l\Ir. Gainnioo seemed getting into a mist, and \va\ing about tlic candies in it. Mr. Titmouse's head swam ; his chair seemed to be resting on the waves of the sea. "I 'm alraid the room 's ratlier close, Mr. Titmouse," hastily observed Gammon, perceiving, Irom Titmouse's sudden paleness and silence, but too evident symptoms that his powerful intellect was for a while paralysed. Gammon started to the window and opened it. Paler, however, and paler became Titmouse. Gam- mon's game was up much sooner than he had calculated on. "JMrs. Brown! Mrs. Brown ! " he called out, opening the sit- ting-room door — " order a coach instantly, and tell Tomkins" — that was the inn porter — "to get his son ready to go home with this gentleman — he 's not very well." He was quickly obeyed. It was, in truth, '-a//////' with Titmouse — at least for a while. As soon as Gammon had thus got rid of his distinguished guest, he ordered the table to be cleared of the glasses, and tea to be ready within lialf an hour. He then walked out to enjoy the cool evening; on returning, sate pleasantly sipping his tea, now and then dipping into the edifying columns of the iS?//7f/fl,y Flush, but oftcner ruminating upon his recent conversation with Titmouse, and speculaling upon certain possible results to him- self personally ; and a little after eleven o'clock, that good man, at peace with all the world — calm and serene — retired to repose. .He had that night rather a singular dream ; it was of a snake en- circling a monkey, as if in gentle and playful embrace. Suddenly tightening its folds, a crackling sound was heard; the wrilliiiig coils were then slowly unvNound — and , with a shudder, he beheld the monster licking over the motionless figure, till it was covered with a viscid slime. Then the serpent began to devour its prey; and, when gorged and helpless, behold, it was immediately fallen upon by two other snakes. To his disturbed fancy, there was a dim resemblance between their heads and those of Quirk and Snap — they all three became intertwisted together — and writhed and struggled till they fell over the edge of a dark and frightful precipice — he woke — thank God ! it was only a dream. 152 CHAPTER V. When, after his return from Mr. Gammou's chambers, at Thavies' Inn, Titmouse woke at an early hour in the morning, he was labouring under the ordinary effects of unaccustomed in- ebriety. His lips were perfectly parched ; his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth; there was a horrid wcigiit pressing on his aching eyes, and upon his throbbing head. His pillow seemed undulating beneath him , and every thing swimming around him ; but when, to crown the whole, he was roused from a momentary nap by the insupportable — the loathed importunities of Mrs. Squallop, that he would just sit up and partake of three thick rounds of hot buttered toast, and a great basin of smoking tea, which would do him so much good , and settle his stomach — at all events, if he'd only have a thimbleful of gin in it — poor Tit- mouse was fairly overcome! * * * * He lay in bed all that day, during which he underwent very severe sufferings; and it was not till towards night that-he began to have any thing like a distinct re- collection of the events of the evening which he had spent with Mr. Gammon; who, by the way, had sent one of the clerks, during the afternoon , to enquire after him. He did not get out of bed on the Tuesday till past twelve o'clock , when , in a very rickety con- dition, he made his appearance at the shop of Messrs. Tag-rag and Co. ; on approaching which he felt a sudden fainlness, arising from mingled apprehension and disgust. "What are you doing here, Sir? — You're no longer in my employment, Sir," exclaimed Tag-rag, attempting to speak calmly, as he hurried down the shop, white with rage, to meet Titmouse, and planted himself right in the way of his languid and pallid shopman. "Sir!" — faintly exclaimed Titmouse, with his hat in his hand. "Very much obliged, Sir — very ! by the offer of your valuable services," said Tag-rag. "But — //mf V the way out again, Sir — that! — there! — good-morning, Sir — good-morning. Sir — that 's the way out" — and he egged on Titmouse, till he had got him 153 fairly into the slreel— with iulitiitc iJiHicuity relraiiiiiig himself Iroiii J5'iving the extruded siaucr a parting kick ! Titmouse stood 'for a moment before the door, trembling and aghast, looking in a bewildered manner at the shop: but Tag-rag again making his appearance, Tilmuuse slowly walked away and returned to his lodgings. Oh that Mr. Gammon had witnessed the scene — thought he — and so ha\c been salislied that it had been Tag-rag who had put an end to his service, not he himself who had quitted it ! The next day, about the same hour, Mr. Gammon made his appearance at the establishment from which Titmouse had been expelled so summarily, and enquired for Mr. Tag-rag, who pre- sently presented himself — and recognising Mr. Gammon , whose presence naturally suggested the previous day's transaction with Titmouse , changed colour a little. "What did you please to want, Sir?" enquired Mr. Tag-rag, with a wolild-be resolute air, twirling round his watch-key with some energy. " Only a few minutes' conversation , Sir , if you please ," said Mr. Gammon , with such a signilicant manner as a liitle disturbed Mr. Tag-rag; who, with an ill-supported sneer, bowed \ery low, and led the way to his own little room. Having closed the door, he, with an exceedingly civil air, begged Mr. Gammon to be seated; and then occupied the chair oiiposite to him, and awaited the issue with ill-disguised anxiety. "I am very sorry, Mr. Tag-rag," commenced Gammon, in his usual elegant and feeling manner, " that any misunderstand- ing should have arisen between you and Mr. Titmouse! " "You 're a lawyer, Sir, I suppose?" Mr. Gammon bowed. "Then you must know, Sir, that there are always two sides to a quarrel," said Mr. Tag-rag, anxiously. "Yes — you are right, Mr. Tag-rag; and, having already heard Mr. Titmouse's version, may 1 be favoured with rjour ac- count of your reasons for discharging him? i'or he tells us that yesterday you dismissed him suddenly from your employment, without giving hicn any warn " — "So I did. Sir; and what of that?" enquired Tag-rag, tossing his head with a sudden air of deliauce. -Things are come lo 154 a pretty pass indeed, when a man at the head of such an eslab- lishiueut as mine, can't dismiss a drunken, idle, impertinent — abusive vagabond." Plere Mr. Gammon somewiiat significantly look out his tablets — as if to note down the language of his companion. "Do you seriously," enquired Mr. Gammon, 'charge him with being such a character, and can you prove your charges, Mr. Tag-rag?" "Prove 'em! yes, Sir, a hundred times over; so will ail n)y young men!" replied Tag-rag, vehemently. "And in a court of justice, Mr. Tug-rag?" said Mr. Gammon, emphatically. "Oh! he is going to /«ri», ishe? Ah, ha! Bless my soul! — So ///flf 'i' why you're come here — ah, ha! — when you can make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, you may get your bill out of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse ! — ha , ha , ha ! " laughed Tag-rag , hoping thereby to conceal how much he was really startled. '•Well — that 's ow look-out, Sir. Tag-rag: to Mr. Titmouse, his character is as \aluabie as Mr. Tag-rag's is to him. In short, Mr. Titmouse has placed himself in our hands, and we are re- solved to go on with the case, if it cost us a hundred pounds — we are indeed , Mr. Tag-rag." "Why — he 's not a penny in the world to go to law with ! " exclaimed Tag-rag, with an air of mingled wonder, scorn, and alarm. "But you forget, Mr. Tag-rag, that if Mr. Titmouse's account of the business should turn out to be correct, it will be yotu' pocket that must pay ail the expenses, amounting probably to twenty limes the sum which the law may award to him! " '■'■Law, Sir? — It 's not justice! — I hale law. — Give me common sense and common honesty! " said Mr. Tag-rag, with a little agitation. 'Both of them would condemn your conduct, Mr. Tag-rag; for I have heard a full account of what Mr. Titmouse has sufl'ered at your hands — of the cause of your sudden warning to him, and your still more sudden dismissal of yesterday. Oh , Mr. Tag-rag ! upon my honour , it won't do — not for a moment — and should 155 you go on, rely upon what I tell you, that it will cost you dear." "And suppose, Sir," said Tag-rag, in a would-be contemptu- ous toue — "I should have witnesses to prove all I 've said — which of us svill look funny Ihcn, Sir?" "Which, indeed! However, since that is your humour, I can only assure you that it is very possible we may be, by the time of llie trial, possessed of some evidence which will surprise you: and that Mr. Titmouse delics you to prove any misconduct on his part. We have , in short , taken up his cause , and , as you may perhaps lind by and by, to your cost, we shall not easily let it drop." "I mean no offence, Sir," said Tag-rag, in a mitigated tone; " but I must say, that ever since yott first came here. Titmouse has been quite another person. He seems not to know who I am, nor to care either — and he 's perfectly unbearable." "My dear Sir, what has lie Aa«/ or It may, perhaps, a little surprise you, Mr. Tag-rag, to hear that your present (ought I to say, your late?) shopman, Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse, is at this moment probably the very luckiest man — and one among the richest , loo — in this kingdom . "Why — you don't mean to say he 's drawn a prize in the lot- tery?" — exclaimed Tag-rag, pricking up his ears, and mani- festly changing coulour. "Pho! my dear Sir, that is a mere bagatelle compared with the good fortune which has just fallen to his lot. I solemnly as- sure you , that I believe it will very shortly turn out that he is at this moment the undoubted owner of an estate worth al least ten thou- sand a-year, besides a vast accumulation of ready money!" "Ten thousand g-year. Sir! — My Titmouse! — Tittlebat Tit- mouse! — Ten thousand a-year! it 's quite impossible!" faltered Tag-rag, aftera pause, having gone as pale as death. "I have as little doubt of the fact, however. Sir, as I have that you yesterday turned him out of doors , Mr. Tag-rag ! " " But" — said Mr. Tag-rag in a low tone — "who could have dreamt it? — How was — reaUij , Mr. Gammon ! — how was I to know it?" "That 's the fact, however," said Gammon , shrugging his shoulders. Tag-rag wriggled about in his chair, put his hands in and out of his pockets, scratched his head, and continued staring open-mouthed at the bearer of such astounding intelli- gence. "Perhaps, however, all this is meant as a joke, Sir," — said he — "And if so — it 's — it 's — a very" — " It 's one of his solicitors who were fortunate enough to make the discovery , that tells you , Sir ," interrupted Gammon , calmly. "I repeat what I have already told you, Mr. Tag-rag, that an estate of ten thousand a-year is the very least " — 157 "Why, that's two hundred thousands pounds, Sir!" — ex- claimed Tag-rag with an awe-struck air. "At the very least" — "Lord, Mr. Gammon! Excuse me, Sir, but how rf?W you find it out?" "Mere accident^ a mere'accidciital discovery, Sir, in the course of other professional enquiries ! " "And docs Mr. Titmouse know it?" "Ever since tlie day, Mr. Tag-rag, after that on which I called on him here !" replied (lammon pointedly. "You — don't — say — so ! " — exclaimed Tag-rag, and then continued silent for nearly half a minute, evidently amazed beyond all power of expression. "Well," — at length he observed — "I will say this — with all his few faults — he 's the most amiable young gentleman— the very amiablest young gentleman I — ever — came near. I al- ways thought there was something uncommon superior-like in his looks." "Y'es — I think he is of rather an amiable turn," observed Gammon , with an expressive smile — "very gentlemanlike— and so intelligent" — "Intelligent! Mr. Gammon! you should only have known him as I have known him! — Well, to be sure! — Lord! His only fault was, that he was above his business; but when one comes to think of it, how could it be otherwise? From the lime I first clapped eyes on him — I — I — knew he was — a superior article — quite superior — you know what I mean, Sir? — he couldn't help it, of course! — to be sure — he never was much liked by the otlier young men; but that was jealousy! — all jealousy; I saw that all the while." Here he looked at the door, and added in a very low tone, "Many sleepless nights has their bad treatment of Mr. Titmouse cost me! — Even I, now and then, used to look and speak sharply to him — just to keep him , as it were , down to the mark of the others — he was so un- common handsome and genteel in his manner, Sir. I remem- ber telling my good lady the very first day he came to me, that be was a gentleman born — or ought to have been one." 158 Now, do you suppose, acute reader, that Mr. Tag-rag was in- sincere in all this? By no means. He spoke the real dictates of his heart, unaware of the sudden change which had taken place in his feelings. It certainly has an ugly look of improbability — but it was the nature of the beast; his eye suddenly caught a glimpse of the golden calf, and he instinctively fell down and worshipped it. "Well — at all events," said Mr. Gammon, scarcely able to keep a serious expression on his face — "though he 's not lived much like a gentleman hitherto , yet he will live for the future like a very great gentleman — and spend his money like one , too." "I— I — dare say — he will! — I wonder how he will get through a quarter of it! — what do you think he 'II do, Sir?" "Heaven only knows — he may very shortly do just what he likes! Go into the House of Commons, or — perhaps — have a peerage given him" — "Lord , Sir ! — I feel as if I shouldn't be quite right again for the rest of the day! — I own to you, Sir, that all yesterday and to-day I 've been on the point of going to Mr. Titmouse's lodgings to apologize for — for — Good gracious me! one can't take it all in at once — Ten thousand a-year! — Many a lord hasn't got more — some not half as much , I'll he bound! — Dear me, what will he do ! — Well , one thing I 'm sure of— he '11 never have a truer friend than plain Thomas Tag-rag, though I 've not always been a-flattering him — I respected him too much I — The many little things I 've borne with in Titmouse, that in any one else I 'd have — But why didn't he tell me , Sir? We should have un- derstood one another in a moment." — Here he paused abruptly; for his breath seemed suddenly taken away, as he reviewed the series of indignities which he had latterly inflicted on Titmouse — the kind of life which that amiable young gentleman had led in his establishment. Never had the keen Gammon enjoyed any thing more exqui- sitely than the scene which I have been describing. To a man of his practical sagacity in the affairs of life, and knowledge of human nature , nothing could appear more ludicrously contempt- ible than the conduct of poor Tag-rag. How differently arc the minds of men constituted! How Gammon despised Tag-rag! 159 And wlml opinion has ihe acute reader by tlils lime formed of Gammon? "Now, may I take for granted , Mr. Tag-rag, that we under- stand each other?" enquired Gammon. "Yes, Sir," replied Tag-rag moeliiy. "But do you tiiinkMr. Titmouse will ever forgive or forget the little misunderstanding we 've lately had? If I could but explain to him how I have been acting a part towards him — all for his good !" "You may have opportunities for doing so, if you are really so disposed, Mr. Tag-rag; for I have something seriously to propose to you. Circumstances render it desirable that for some little lime this im|)orlant affair should be kept as quiet as possible; and it is Mr. Titmouse's wish and ours — as his confi- dential professional advisers — that for some few months he should continue in your establishment, and apparently in your service as before." "In my service! — my service!'' interrupted Tag-rag, opening his eyes to their utmost. "I sha'n't know how to behave in my own premises! Have a man with ten thousand a-year behind my counter. Sir? I might as well have the Lord Mayor! Sir, it can't — it can't be. Now, if Mr. Titmouse chose to become a partner in the house — ay , there might be something in that — he needn't have any trouble — be only a sleeping partner." Tag- rag warmed with the thought. "Really, Sir, that wouldn't be so much amiss — would it?" Gammon assured him that it was out of the question ; und gave him some of the reasons for the proposal which he (Mr. Gammon) had been making. While Gammon fancied that Tag-rag was paying profound attention to what he was saying, Tag-rag's thoughts had shot far a-head. He had an only child — a daughter, about twenty years old — Miss labilha Tag- rag; and the delightful possibility of her by-and-by becoming Mrs. Titmouse, put her aspiring parent into a perspiration. Into the proposal just made by Mr. Gammon, Tag-rag fell with great eagerness, which he attempted to conceal — for what innumerable opportunities would it not afford him for bringing about the desire of his heart — for throwing the lovely young couple into each other's way, — endearing them to each other! IGO Oh, (lelighlful! It really looked almost as if it had been deter- mined by the powers above, that the thing should come to pass! If Mr. Titmouse did not dine with him, Mrs. and Miss Tag-rag, at Satin Lodge, Clapham, on the very next Sunday, it should. Tag-rag resolved, be owing to no fault of his. — Mr. Gammon having arranged every thing exactly as he had desired, and having again enjoined Mr. Tag-rag to absolute secrecy, took his de- parture. Mr. Tag-rag, in his excitement, thrust out his hand, and grasped that of Gammon , which was extended towards him somewhat coldly and reluclanlly. Tag-rag attended him with extreme obsequiousness to the door; and on his departure, walked back rapidly to his own room , and sat down for nearly half an hour in a sort of turbid but delicious reverie. Abruptly rising, at length, he clapped his hat on his head, and saying, as he passed along the shop , that he should soon be back , hurried out to call upon his future son-in-law, full of aifectionate anxiety concerning his health — and vowing within himself, that henceforth it should be the study of his life to make his daughter and Titmouse happy ! There could be no doubt of the reality of the event just communi- cated to him by Mr. Gammon; for he was one of a well-known firm of solicitors; he had had an interview on " important busi- ness" with Titmouse a fortnight before, and that could have been nothing but the prodigious event just communicated to himself. Such things had happened to others — why not to Tittlebat Tit- mouse? In short. Tag-rag had no doubt on the matter; and his lieart really yearned towards Titmouse. Finding that gentleman not at home, Mr. Tag-rag left a most particularly civil message, half a dozen times repealed, with Mrs. Squallop, (to whom also he was specially civil ,) to the effect that he, Mr. Tag-rag, would be only too happy to see Mr. Tit- mouse at No. 375, Oxford Street, whenever it might suit his convenience; that Mr. Tag-rag had something very particular to say to him about the unpleasant and unaccountable [!] occurrence of yesterday ; that Mr. Tag-rag was most deeply concerned lo hear of Mr. Titmouse's indisposition, and anxious to learn from him- self that he had recovered, *c. &c. &c.; — all which, together with one or two other little matters, which Mrs. Squallop could 161 not help pulling togellier , satisfied that shrewd lady that " some- thing was in the w ind about Mr. Titmouse ; " and made her redect raliier anxiously on one or two violent scenes she had had with him , and which she was now ready entirely to forget and I'orgivc. Having thus done all (hat at present was in his power to forward the affair, the anxious and excited Tag-rag returned to his shop; on entering which, one Lutestring, his principal young man, eagerly apprised him of a claim which he had, as he imagined, only the moment before, established to the thanks of Mr. Tag-rag, by having "bundled off, neck and crop , that hodious Titmouse," who, about five minutes before, had, it seemed, had the "im- pudence" to present himself at the siiop-door, and walk in as if nothing had happened ! ! [Titmouse had so presented himself, in consequence of a call from Mr. Gammon, immediately after his interview with Tag-rag."] "You — ordered — Mr. Titmouse — off! ! " exclaimed Tag-rag, starling back aghast, and almost petrifying his voluble and officious assislant. "Of course, Sir," at length exclaimed that person , meekly — "after what happened yester'' — "Who authorized you, Mr. Lutestring?" enquired Tag-rag, striving to choke down the rage rising williia him. "Why, Sif, I ;'ea% supposed that" — "You supposed! ! You 're a meddling, impertinent, disgust- ing" — Suddenly his face was overspread with smiles, as three or four elegantly dressed customers entered, whom he received with profuse obeisances. But when their backs were turned , he directed a lightning look towards Lutestring, and retreated once more to his room, to meditate on the agitating events of the last hour. The extraordinary alteration in Mr. Tag-rag's behaviour was attributed by his shopmen to his having been frightened out of his wits by the threats of Titmouse's lawyer — for such it was clear the stranger was; and more than one of ihcm stored it up in their minds as a useful precedent against some future occasion. Twice afterwards during the day did Tag-rag call at Mr. Tit- mouse's lodgings — but in vain; and on returning the third time he felt not a little disquieted. He determined , however, to call Ten Thousiind a - Yeui . I. \\ 102 the first filing on the ensuing morning; if he should then fail of seeing Mr. Titmouse, he was resolved to go to Messrs, Quirk, Gammon, and Snap — and besides, address a very affectionate letter to Mr. Titmouse. How totally changed had become all his feelings towards that gentleman within the last few hours. The more that Tag-rag reflected on Titmouse's conduct, the more he saw in it to approve of. How steady and regular had he been in Lis habits! how civil and obliging! how patient of rebuke ! how pleasing in his manners to the customers ! Surely, surely, thought Tag-rag, Titmouse can't have been four long years in my employ without getting a — sort of a — feeling — of attachment to me — he'd have left long ago if he hadn't! It was true there //arf now and then been tiffs between them ; but who could agree always? Even Mrs. Tag-rag and he, when they were courting, often fell out with one another ! — Tag-rag was now ready to forget and for- give all — he had never meant any harm to Titmouse. He believed that poor Tittlebat was an orphan, unhappy soul! alone in the wide world — iioiv he would become the prey of designing strangers and adventurers. Tag-rag did not like the appearance of Gammon. No doubt that person would try and ingratiate him- self as much as possible with Titmouse! Then Titmouse was remarkably good-looking. "I wonder what Tabby will think of him when she sees him ! " How anxious Tittlebat must be to see her — his daughter I How could Tag-rag make Tittlebat's stay at his premises (for he could not bring himself to believe that on the morrow he could not set all right, and disavow the abominable conduct of Lutestring) agreeable and delightful? He would dis- charge the first of his young men that did not show Titmouse proper respect. — What low lodgings poor Tittlebat lived in I — ■ Why could he not take up his quarters at Satin Lodge? They always had a nice spare bed-room. Ah ! that would be a stroke ! How Tabby could endear herself to him! What a number of things Mrs. Tag-rag could do to make him comfortable ! About seven o'clock Tag-rag quitted his premises in Oxford Street, for his country house; and, occupied with these and similar delightful and anxious thoughts and speculations , hurried along Oxford Street on his way to the Clapham stage, without 163 thinking of his umbrella, though it rained fast. "VN'hcn he had taiieii his place on the coach-box, beside old Crack, (as he had done almost every night for years ,) he was so unusually silent that Crack naturally thought his best passenger was going to become bankrupt, or compound with his creditors, or do something In that line, shortly. 31 r. Tag-rag could hardly keep his lem|ier at the slow pace old Crack was driving at — just when Mr. Tair-ra" would have wished to gallop the Avhole way. .Never had he descended with so much briskness, as when the coach at length drew up before the little green gate, which opened on the tidy little gravel walk, which led up to the little green wooden porch, which sheltered the little door which admitted you into little Satin Lodge. As Tag-rag stood for a moment wiping his wet shoes upon the mat, he could not help observing, for the first time, by the inward light of ten thousand a-year, how ?/?/co7/»rt07i narrow the passage was; and thinking that Satin Lodge would never r/o, when he should be the falhcr-in-law of a man worth ten thousand a-year — but he could easily let that house then , and lake a large one. As he hung his hat upon the peg , the perilous insolence of Lutestring occurred to him; and he deposited such a prodigious, but half-suppressed execration upon tlinl gentleman's name, as must have sunk a far more buoyant sinner many fathoms deeper than usual into a certain hot and deep place that shall be nameless. Mrs. and Miss Tag-rag were sitting in the front parlour, in- tending to take tea as soon as Mr. Tag-rag should have arrived. It was not a large room , but sweetly furnished , according to the taste of the owners. There was only one window, and it had a flaunting white summer curtain. The walls were ornamented with three pictures, in ponderous gilt frames, being [lortraits of Mr., Mrs., and Miss Tag-rag; and I do not feel disposed to say more concerning these pictures , than that in each of them the (fn-ss was done with elaborate exactness— Ihc faces seeming to ha>e been painted in, for the purpose of setting olT and com(»leting the picture of the dress. The skinny little Miss Tag-rag sat at the worn-out. jingling pianoforte, causing it to uller — oh, horrid and doleful sound ! — " T/ic Baltic o/J't-af^iie." Mrs. Tag-rag, 11* 164 a fat, showily dressed woman of about fifty, her cap having a pro- digious number of artificial flowers in it, sat reading a profitable volume, entitled '' Groans from the Botlomless Pit to Aioaken Sleeping Sinners," by (as he was pleased to dignify himself) ilie Rev. Dismal Horror — a very rousing young dissenting preacher lately come into that neighbourhood, and who had almost frightened into fits half the women and children, and one or two old men , of his congregation; giving out, amongst several similarly cheering intimations, that they must all necessarily be damned unless they immediately set about making themselves as miserable as possible in this world. Only the Sunday before, he had pointed out, with awful force and distinctness, how cards and novels were the devil's traps to catch souls; and balls and theatres short and easy cuts to — ! He had proNcd to his trembling female hearers, in effect, that there was only one way to heaven, i. e. through his chapel; that the only safe mode of spending their time on earth was reading such blessed works as that which he had just published, and going daily to prayer-meetings. ^Yhen, however, a Sunday or two before, he had the assurance to preach a funeral sermon, to ''improve the death" — such being his impressive phrase — of a Miss Snooks, (who had kept a circulating library in the neigh- bourhood, but had not been a member of his congregation;) and who, having been to the theatre on the Thursday night, was taken ill of a bowel attack on the Friday, and was a "lifeless corpse when the next Sabbath dawned" — you might have heard a beetle sneeze within any of the walls, all over the crowded chapel. Two- thirds of the women present, struck with the awful judgment upon the deceased Miss Snooks, inwardly made solemn vows never again to enter the accursed walls of a theatre or concert-room; * many determined no longer to subscribe to the circulating library, * "Can the author of Ten Tiiousand a-Year," asked some anony- mous person during its original appearance — "point out any class of Dissenters who allow their meinhers to frequent theatres '<"' The aulhor believes that tliis is the case wilii I'niinrians — and also with many of the members of other Dissenting congregations — especially Ihe younger members of even the slanchest Dissenting families. 1G5 ruining Iheir precious souls with light and amusing reading; and almost all resolved forlhwilh to become active members of a sort of religious tract society, which "dear Mr. Horror" had just eslablislied in the neighbourhood, for the purpose of giving the sick and starving poor .yiirttual food, in the shape of tracts, (chiefly written by himself,) which might "wean their aflcclioiis away from this vain world," and "(i\ them on better things," rejoicing, in the meanwhile, in the bitter pangs of dcslitulion — and able to bear them ! All this sort of thing Mr. Horror possibly imagined to be calculated to advance the cause of real religion! In short, he had created a sort of spiritual fever about the place, which was then just at its height in worthf I\Irs. Tag-rag. "Well, Dolly, how are you to-night?" enquired Tag-rag, with unusual briskness, on entering the room. "Tolerable, thank you, Tag," replied Mrs. Tag-rag mourn- fully, with a sigh, closing the cheerful volume she had been perusing — it having been recommended the preceding Sunday from the pulpit by its pious and gifted author, to be read and prayed over every day by every member of his congregation ! "And how are you, Tabby?" said Tag-rag, addressing his daughter. "Come and kiss me, you little slut — come!" "No, I sha'n't, Pa! Do let me go on with my practising," said Miss Tag-rag — and twang ! twang ! went those infernal keys. "D'ye hear. Tab? Come and kiss me, you liltle minx" — "Really, Pa, how provoking — just as I am in the middle of the Cries of the If'oimded! I sha'n't — that 's flat." The doating parent could not, however, be denied; so he stepped to the piano, put his arm around his dutiful daughter's neck, kissed her fondly, and then stood for a moment behind her, admiring her brilliant execution of The Tnnnpet of I icturtj. Having changed his coat, and put on an old pair of shoes, Mr. Tag-rag was comfortable for the evening. "Tabby plays wonderful well, Dolly, don't she?" said Tag- rag, as the tea-things were being brought in, by way of beginning a conversation , while he drew his chair nearer to his wife. "Ah! I 'd a deal rather see her reading something serious — for life is short, Tag, and eternity 's long." 166 "Botheration! — Stuff! — Tut!" exclaimed Tag-rag! "You may find it out one day, my dear, when, alas! it 's too late" — "I'll tell you what, Dolly," said Tag-rag angrily, "you 're doing a great deal too much in this line of business — my house is getting like a Methodist meeting-house. I can't bear it — I can't! What the deuce is come to you all in these parts, lately?" Mr. Tag-rag, I should apprise the reader, had been induced, some three years before, to quit the Church of England and take up with Mr. Dismal Horror; but his zeal had by no means kept pace with that of his wife. "Ah, Tag-rag," replied his wife, with a sigh, "I can only pray for you — I can do no more " — "Oh!" exclaimed Tag-rag, with an air of desperate disgust, thrusting his hands into his pockets, and stretching his legs to their utmost extent under the table. "I '11 tell you what, Mrs. T." he added, after a while, " I like religion well enough — but too much of it no one can stand. Too much of one thing is good for nothing; you may choke a dog with pudding; — I sha'n't renew my sittings at 3Ir. Horror's." "Oh, dear, dear Pa, do! That 's a love of a Pa ! " interposed Miss Tag-rag, twirling round on her music-stool. "All Clapham 's running after him — he 's quite the rage ! There 's the Dugginses, the Pips, the Jones, the Maggots — and, really, Mr. Horror does preach such dreadful things, it's quite delightful to look round and see all the people with their eyes and mouths wide open — and ours is such a good pew for seeing — and Mr. Horror is such a bee — yeautiful preacher — isn't he. Ma?" "Yes, love, he is — but I wish I could see you profit by him, and preparing for death" — "Why, Ma, how can you go on in that ridiculous way? You know I 'm not twenty yet, however old you and Pa may be ! " "Well, well ! poor Tabby ! " here Mrs. Tag-rag's voice faltered — "a day will come, when" — "Play me the Devil awon'^- the Tailors, or CnpeiihagenJFaUz, or something of that sort. Tubby,"' said her father furiously , "or I shall be sick! — I can't bear it! Curse Mr. Hor" — 167 " Well ! — Oh , my ! ! — I never ! — Mr. Tag-rag ! " exclaimed his astounded wife. "Play away, Tab, or I '11 go and sit in the kitchen ! They're cheerful there! The next time I come across Mr. Horror, if I don't give him a bit of my mind" — here he paused, and slapped his hand with much energy upon the table. Mrs. Tag-rag wiped her eyes, sighed, and resumed her book. Miss Tag-rag began to make tea, her papa gradually forgetting his rage, as he fixed his dull grey eyes fondly on the pert skinny countenance of his daughter. "By the way , Tag ," exclaimed Mrs. Tag-rag suddenly , but in the same mournful tone, addressing her husband, "you haven't of course forgot the Dowers for my new bonnet?" "Never once thought of it," replied Tag-rag, doggedly. "You haven't! Good gracious! what am I to go to chapel in next Sunday?" she exclaimed, with sudden alarm, closing her book, "and our seat in the very front of the gallery! — bless me! I shall have a hundred eyes on me ! " "Now that you 're coming down a bit, and dropped out of the clouds — or p'r'aps I should say — come up from beneath! — Dolly," said her husband, much relieved, "I '11 tell you a bit of news that will, I fancy, rather" — "Come! what is it. Tag?" she enquired with a sort of languid curiosity. "What should you say of a chance of a certain somebody" (here he looked unutterable things at his daughter) " that shall be nameless, becoming mistress often thousand a-year?" "Why" — Mrs. Tag-rag changed colour — "has any one fallen in love with Tab?" "What should you say, Mrs. T. , of our Tab marrying a man with ten thousand a-year? There 's for you! Isn't that belter than all your rel — hem ! " "Oh, Tag, don't say that; but" — here she hastily turned down the leaf of Groans from the Boilomlrss Pit, and tossed that inestimable work upon the sofa — "do tell mc, lovey! whatrtw you talking about?" 168 "What indeeJ , Dolly ! — I 'm going (o have him here to diu- ner next Sunday." Miss Tag-rag having been listening with breathless eagerness to this little colloquy between her prudent and amiable parents, unconscious of what she was about, poured almost all the contents of the tea-pot into the sugar-basin, instead of her papa's and mamma's tea-cups, "Have W(o, dear Tag?" enquired Mrs. Tag-rag impatiently. "Who? why whom but my Tittlebat Titmouse!! You 've seen him, and heard me speak of him often , you know" — "What! -^/Aa; odious, nasty" — ^ "Hush, hush!" involuntarily exclaimed Tag-rag, with an apprehensive air — That 's all past and gone — I was always a little too hard on him. Well, anyhow, he 's turned up all of a sudden master of ten thousand a-year. He has indeed — may this piece of toast choke me if he hasn't ! " Mrs. Tag-rag and her daughter sat in speechless wonder. "Where did he see Tab, Taggy?" enquired at length Mrs. Tag-rag. "Oh — I — I — why — you see — I don't exactly think that signifies so much — He ?z>///see her, you know, next Sunday." "So, then, he 's positively coming?" enquired Mrs. Tag-rag ■with a fluttered air. " Y — e — s — I 've no doubt." — (I 'II discharge Lutestring to-morrow , thought Tag-rag with a sharp inward spasm.) "But aren 't we counting our chickens, Ttiggy, before they 're hatched? If Titmouse is all of a sudden become such a catch, he '11 be snapped up in a minute, you know, of course" — " Why, you see, Dolly — we 're first in the market, I 'm sure of that — his attorney tells me he 's to be kept quite snug and quiet under my care for months , and see no one " — "My gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Tag-rag, holding up both her hands — "if that don't look like a special interposition of Providence, now" — "So/thought, Tabby, while Mr. Gammon was telling me !" replied her husband. lf)9 *'.\h, Tag, ihorc are nmny of 'em , iT we were only (o be on the look-out for them!" said INI rs. Tag-rag, cxcilodly. "I do see it all ! It 's designed by Pro>idence to get them soon together! When once Mr. Titmouse gets sight of Tabby, and gels iuto her company — eh! Tab, lovey! yo2i 'II do the rest, hem!" said Tag-rag, fondly. " La , Pa ! how you do go on ! " simpered Miss Tag-rag. "You must do your part. Tab," said her father — "we 'II do ours. He '11 bite, you may depend on it , if you manage well !" "What sort of a looking young man is he, dear Pa?" enquired Miss Tag-rag blushing, and lier heart (luttering very fast. "Oh . you 7ni/st have seen him , sweetest" — "How should I ever notice any one of the lots of young men at the shop , Pa? — I don't at all know him." "Well — he 's the handsomest, most genteel-looking young fellow I ever came across; he 's long been an ornament lo my establishment, for his good looks and civil and obliging manners — quite a treasure! You should have seeu how he iou/c with ladies of rank always!" — "Dear me," interrupted Mrs. Tag-rag, anxiously addressing her daughter, "I hope, Tabby, that Miss Mx will send home your lilac-coloured frock by next Sunday ! " "If she f/o?t'/, Ma, I 'II take care she never makes anything more for ?nt, that 's poz ! " replied Miss Tag-rag earnestly. "We 'II call there to-morrow, love, and hurry her on," said her mother; and from that moment until eleven o'clock, when the amiable and interesting trio retired to rest, nothing was talked of but the charming Titmouse, and the good fortune he so richly deserved, and how long the courtship was likely to last. Mrs. Tag-rag, who, for the last month or so, had always remained on her knees before getting into bed, for at least ten minutes, on this eventful evening compressed her prayers, I regret to say, into one minute and a half's time, (as forTag-rag, a hardened heathen, for all he had taken to hearing Mr. Horror, he always tumbled prayerless into bed, the moment he was undressed;) while, for once in away. Miss Tag-rag, having taken only five minutes to put her hair iuto papers, popped into bed directly she had blown 170 the candle out , without savin;? mvj prayers — or even thinking of finishing the novel which lay under her pillow, and which she had got on the sly from the circulating library of the late Miss Snooks. For several hours she lay in a delicious reverie , imagining herself become Mrs. Tittlebat Titmouse, riding about Clapham in a hand- some carriage , going to the play every night ; and what would the three Miss Knippses say when they heard of it? — they 'd burst. And such a handsome man, too! She sank, at length , into unconsciousness, amidst a soft coo- fusion of glistening white satin — favours — bridesmaids — Mrs. Tittlebat Tit — Tit — Tit — Tit — mouse. Titmouse, about half-past nine o'clock on the ensuing morn- ing, was sitting in his little room in a some\>hal troubled humour, musing on many things, and little imagining the intense interest he had excited in the feelings of the amiable occupants of Satin Lodge, when a knock at his door startled him out of his reverie. Guess his amazement to see, on opening it, Mr. Tag-rag! " Your most obedient. Sir," commenced that gentleman , in a subdued and obsequious manner, plucking off his hat the in- stant that he saw Titmouse. "I hope you 're better, Sir! — Been very uneasy. Sir, about you." "Please to walk in, Sir," replied Titmouse, not a little flus- tered — "I'm better, Sir, thank you." " Happy to hear it , Sir ! — But am also come to offer humble apologies for the rudeness of that upstart that was so rude to you yesterday, at my premises — know whom I mean, eh? — Lute- string — I shall get rid of him , I do think " — "Thankyou, Sir — But — but — when Iwas inyouremploy" — '■'■Was in my employ!" interrupted Tag-rag with a sigh, gazing earnestly at him — "It 's no use trying to hide it any longer ! I 've all along seen you was a world too good for — in fact, quite above your situation in my poor shop! I may have been wrong, Mr. Titmouse," he continued diffidently, as he placed himself on what seemed the only chair in the room , (Titmouse sitting on a common wooden stool) — "but I did it for the best — eh? — don't you understand me, Mr. Titmouse?" Titmouse 171 continued looking on the floor incredulously, sheepishly, and somewhat sullenly. ''Very much obliged, Sir," at length he answered — "but must say you 've rather a funny way of showing it, Sir. Look at the sort of life jou 've led me for this " — "Ah! knew you'd say so! But I can lay my hand on my heart, Mr. Titmouse, and declare to God — lean, indeed, Mr. Titmouse" — Titmouse preserved a very embarrassing silence. — ''See I 'm out of your good books — But — won't you forget and forgive, Mr. Titmouse? I 7ncant\\e\\. Nay, I humbly beg for- giveness for every thing you 've not liked in me. Can I say more? Come, Mr. Titmouse, you 've a noble nature, and I ask forgive- ness ! " cried Tag-rag softly and earnestly : you would have thought that his life depended on his success in what he was doing ! "You — you ought to do it before the whole shop, if you 're in earnest," replied Titmouse, a little relenting — "for they've all seen your goings on." "Them! — the brules! — the vulgar fellows, eugh! — you and I , Mr. Titmouse , are a Iccfle above such cattle as them I D'ye think we ought to mind what servants say? — Only you say the word, and I make a clean sweep of 'em all; you shall ha\e (he premises to yourself, Mr. Titmouse , within an hour after any of those chaps shows you the least glimmer of disrespect." "Ah, I don't know — you 've used me most uncommon bad, 'pon my soul ! — far worse than they have — you 've nearly broke my heart , Sir ! You have ! " "Well, my womankind at home are right, after all! They told me all along I was going the wrong way to work, when I said how I tried to keep your pride down, and prevent you from lja\ing your head turned by knowing your good looks! Over and over again , my little girl has said , with tears in her dear eyes , ' you '11 break his spirit, dear papa — if he is handsome, wasn't it God that made him so?'" The little frostwork which Titmouse had ihrowH around his heart, began to mell like snow under sun- beams. "Ah., Mr. Titmouse, Mr. Titmouse! the women are always right, and u'e 're always wrong," continued Tag-rag ear- 172 nestly, perceiving his advantage. "Upon my soul I could kick myself (or my stupidity, and cruelty too! " "Ah, I should think so! ^'o one knows what I 've suffered] And now," added Titmouse, suddenly, "thati'm — I suppose you 've heard it all, Sir? — what 's in the wind — and all that?" "Yes, Sir — Mr. Gammon (that most respectable gentleman) and I have had a long talk yesterday about you, in which he did certainly tell me everything — nothing like confidence, Mr. Tit- mouse, when gentleman meets gentleman, you know! Oh, Lord! the news is really delightful! delightful!" ''Isn't it. Sir?" eagerly interrupted Titmouse, his eyes glistening with sudden rapture. "Ah! ten thous — I 7m/st shake hands with you, my dear Mr. Titmouse;" quoth Tag-rag, with affectionate excitement — and, for the first lime in their lives, their hands touched, Tag- rag squeezing that of Titmouse with energetic cordiality; while he added, with a little emotion in his tone — "Thomas Tag-rag may be a plain-spoken and wrong-headed man, Mr. Titmouse — but he 's a warm heart , I assure you ! " "And did Mr. Gammon tell you all. Sir?" eagerly inter- rupted Titmouse. "Everything — everything; quite confidential, I assure you, for he saw the interest I felt in you ! " "And did he say about my — hem ! — eh? my slopping a few weeks longer with you?" enquired Titmouse, chagrin over- spreading his features. "I think he did, indeed, Mr. Titmouse! He 's quite bent on it, Sir! And so would any true friend of yours be — because you see ! " — here he dropped his voice , and looked very mysteriously at Titmouse — "in short, I quite agree with Mr. Gammon !" "Do you indeed, Sir?" exclaimed Titmouse, with rather an uneasy look. "I do, i' faith! Why, they 'd give thousands and thousands to get you out of the way — and what 's vioney to fftctn? But they must look very sharp that get at you in the premises of Thomas Tag-rag, I warrant 'cm ! — Talking of that , ah, ha! — hivillhe 173 a funny thing to see you , Mr. Tilmouse — Squire Titmouse — ah, ha, ha!" "You won't hardly expect nie to f;o out with i;ooc/,?, I suppose, Sir?" enquired Titmouse si)nu'\vh;it anxiously. "Ha, ha, ha; — Ha, ha, ha! — Might as well ask me if I 'd clean that beast Luteslrini,''s shoes! No, no, my dear Mr. Tit- mouse, you and I have done with each other as master and servant; it 's only as friends that we know each other now! — You may say and do whatever you like, and come and go when and where you like! — It 's true it will make my other hands rather jealous, and get mc into trouble; but what do I care? Suppose Ihey do all give mc warning for your sake? Let'em go, say I!" He snapped his fingers with an air ofdeliance. " Your looks and mantiers would keep a shop full of customers — one Titmouse is worth a hundred of ihem." "'Pon mv soul, you speak most uncommon gentlemanlike. Sir, certainly!" said Titmouse, wilh a liltle excitement — "and if you 'd only always — but that 's all past and gone; and I 've no objections to say at once, that all the articles I may want in your line I "11 have at your establishment , pay cash down, and a>k for DO discount. And I 'II send all my friends, for, in course, Sir, you know I shall have lots of them ! " "Don't forget your oldest, your truest, your humblest friend, Mr. Tilmouse," said Tag-rag, with a cringing air. " That I w on't ! " replied Titmouse heatedly. [It flashed across his mind that a true and old friend would be only too happy to do him some such trilling service as to lend him a ten-pound note.] "Ilcm! — Now, are you such a friend, Mr. Tag-rag?" cried he, sheepishly. "Am I? — Can you doubt me? Try me! See what I would not do for you! Friend, indeed!" and he looked quite fondly at Titmouse. "Well, I believe you, Sir! And the fact is , a— a— a— you see , Mr. Tag-rag , though all this heap of money 's coming to me, I 'm precious low just «o?f^" — 174 ing, to the Old Bailey, to hear "a most interesting trial" for bigamy, in which Snap was concerned for the prisoner — a mis- creant , who had been married to five living women! ! Snap con- ceived (and very justly) that it would give Titmouse a striking idea of his (Snap's) importance, to see him so much, and apparently so familiarly concerned with well-known counsel. lu his own terse and quaint way, he was explaining to Titmouse the various remedies he had against the Bond Street impostor, both by in- dictment and action on the case, nay, (getting a little, however, beyond his depth,) he assured the eager Titmouse, that a billot discovery would lie in equity, to ascertain what the Tetaragmenon Abracadabra was composed of, with a view to his preferring an indictment against his owner , when his learned display was inter- rupted by a double knock , and — oh , mercy on us ! — enter Mr. Gammon. Whether he or Snap felt more disconcerted, I cannot say; but Snap /ooAerf the most confused and sneaking. Each told the other a lie, in as easy, good-natured a way as he could assume, concerning the object of his visit to Titmouse. Thus lliey were going on, when — anotherknock — and, "Is this Mr. Titmouse's?" enquired a voice, which brought a little colour into the face of both Gammon and Snap; for it was absolutely old Quirk, who bustled breathless into the room, on his first visit, and seemed completely confounded by the sight of both his partners. What with this, and the amazing appearance presented by Titmouse, Mr. Quirk was so overwhelmed that he scarce spoke a syllable. Each of the three |)arlners felt (in his own way) exquisite embar- rassment. Huckaback, some time afterwards, made his appear- ance; but him Titmouse unceremoniously dismissed in a (win- kling, in spite of a vehement remonstrance. Behold, however, presently another arrival — Mr. Tag-rag ! ! who had come to an- nounce that his carriage {i.e. a queer, rickety, little one-horse Chaise, with a tallow-faced boy in it, in faded livery) was waiting to convey Mr. Titmouse to Satin Lodge, and take liim a long drive 200 in the country ! Each of these four worthies could have spit in the other's face : first, for detecting, and secondly, for rivalling him in his schemes upon Titmouse. A few minutes after the arrival of Tag- rag, Gammon, half-choked with disgust, and despising himself even more than he despised his fellow-visilors, slunk off, followed almost immediately by Quirk, who was dying to consult him on this new aspect of affairs which had presented itself. Snap (who, ever since the arrival oralessrs. Quirk and Gammon, had felt like an ape on hot irons) very shortly followed in the footsteps of his partners, having made no engagement whatever with Titmouse ; and thus the enterprising and determined Tag-rag was left master of the field. He had in fact come to do business, and business he determined to do. As for Gammon, during the short time he had stayed, how he had endeared himself to Titmouse, by explaining, not aware that Titmouse had confessed all to Snap, the singular change in the colour of his hair to have been occasioned simply by the intense mental anxiety through which he had lately passed ! The touching anecdotes he told of sufferers, whose hair a single night's agony had changed to all the colours of the rainbow! Though Tag-rag outstaid all his fellow-visitors, in the manner which has been de- scribed , he could not prevail upon Titmouse to accompany him in his "carriage," for Titmouse pleaded a pressing engagement, (?. e. a desperate attempt he purposed making to obtain some inkC) but pledged himself to make his appearance at Satin Lodge at the appointed hour, (half-past three for four o'clock.) Away, there- fore, drove Tag-rag, delighted that Satin Lodge would so soon contain so resplendent a visitor — indignant at the cringing, syco- phantic attentions of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, against whom he resolved to put Titmouse on his guard, and infinitely astonished at the extraordinary change which had taken place in the colour of Titmouse's hair. Partly influenced by the explanation which Gammon had given of the phenomenon. Tag-rag resigned himself to feelings of simple wonder. Titmouse was doubtless passing through stages of physical transmogrification , corre- sponding with the marvellous change that was taking place in his circumstances; and for all he (Tag-rag) knew, other and more extraordinary changes were going on ; Titmouse might be growing 201 at the rale of half an inch a-day, and soon stand before him a man more than six feet high! Considerations such as these iinesled Titmouse with intense and overpowering interest in the estimation of Tag-rag; hoio could he make enough of him at Satin Lodge that day? If ever that hardened sinner fell inclined to utter an inward prayer, it was as he drove home that day — that Heaven would array his daughter in angel hues to the eyes of Titmouse! My friend Tittlebat made his appearance at the gate of Satin Lodge, at about a quarter to four o'clock. Good gracious, how he had dressed himself out ! So as very considerably to exceed his appearance when first presented to the reader.' Sliss Tag-rag had been before her glass ever since the instant of her return from chapel, up to within ten minutes' time of Titnaouse's arrival. An hour and a half at least had she bestowed on her hair , disposing it in little corkscrew and somewhat scanty curls, which quite glistened in bear's grease, hanging on each side of a pair of lean and sallow cheeks. The colour which ought to have distributed itself over her cheeks , in roseate delicacy, ha3, two or three years before, thought lit to collect itself into the tip of her sharp little nose. Her small grey eyes beamed with the gentle and attractive expression perce[ttil)le in her father's; and her projecting under lip reminded every body of that delicate feature in her mother. She was very short, and her figure rather skinny and angular. She wore her lilac-coloured frock ; her waist being pinched in to a degree which made you think of a lit of the colic when you looked at her — and gave you a dim vision of a coroner's inquest on a case of death by tight lacing! A long red sash , tied in a most elaborate bow, gave a very brilliant air to her dress generally. She had a thin gold chain round her neck, and wore long white gloves; her left hand holding her pocket-hand- kerchief, which she had so suffused with bergamotte that it scented the whole room. Mrs. Tag-rag had made herself very S[)lendid, in a red silk gown and staring head-dress; in fact, she seemed o/t Jire, As for Mr. Tag-rag, whenever he was dressed in his Sunday clothes, he looked the model of a dissenting minister; witness his black coat, waistcoat and Irowsers, and primly-tied white necker- chief, with no shirt-collar visible. For some quarter of an hour 202 had this interesting trio been standing at their parlour window, in anxious expectation of Titmouse's arrival; their only amusement being the numberless dusty stage-coaches driving every five mi- nutes close past their gate , (which was about ten yards from their house,) at once enlivening and ruralizing the scene. Oh, that poor laburnum — laden with dust, drooping with drought, and evidently in the very last stage of a decline — that was planted beside the litlle gate! Tag-rag spoke of cutting it down; but Mrs. and Miss Tag-rag begged its life a little longer, because none of their neighbours had one! — and then that subject dropped. How was it that, though both the ladies had sat under a thunder- ing discourse from Mr. Dismal Horror that morning — they had never once since thought or spoke of him or his sermon — never even opened his exhilarating "Groa/js.''" The reason was plain. They thought of Titmouse, who was bringing ' 'airs from heaven ; " while Horror brought only "blasts from — !" and /Ao^e they had every day in the week, (his sermons on the Sunday, his " Groans" on the weekday.) At length Miss Tag-rag's little heart fluttered violently, for her papa told her that Titmouse was coming up the road — and so he was. Not dreaming that he could be seen , he stood beside the gate for a moment, under the melancholy labur- num; and, taking a dirty-looking silk handkerchief out of his hat, slapped it vigorously about his boots, (from which circumstance it may be inferred that he had walked ,) and replaced it in his hat. Then he unbuttoned his surtout, adjusted it nicely, and disposed his chain and eyeglass just so as to let the lip only of the latter be seen peeping out of his waistcoat; twitched up his shirt collar, plucked down his wristbands, drew the tip of a white pocket handkerchief out of the pocket in the breast of his surtout, pulled a white glove halfway on his left hand; and, having thus given the finishing touches to his toilet, opened the gate, and — Tittlebat Titmouse, Esquire, the great guest of the day, for the first time in his life (swinging a little ebony cane about with careless grace) entered the domain of Mr. Tag-rag. The little performance! have been describing, though every bit of it passing under the eyes of Tag-rag, his wife, and his daughter, had not excited a smile; their anxious feelings were loo 203 deep to be reached or stirred by light emotions. Miss Tag-rag turned very pale and trembled. "La, Pa!" said she faintly, "how could you say he 'd ;;ot while eyebrows and whiskers? Why — they 're a beauliful black!" Tag-rag was speechless: the fact was so — for Titmouse had fortunately succeeded in obtaining a little boltic of ink , which he had applied with great effect. As Titmouse approached the house, (Tag-rag hurrying out to open the door for him,) he saw the two ladies standing at the windows. Off went his hat, and out dropped the dusty silk handkerchief, not a little disconcerting him for the moment. Tag-rag, however, soon occupied his attention at the door with anvious civililies, shaking him by the hand, hanging up his hat and stick for him, and then introducing him to the sitting- room. The ladies received him with the most profound curtsies, which Titmouse returned with a quick embarrassed bow , and an indistinct — " Hope you 're well , mem?" If they had had presence of mind enough to observe it, the purple colour of Titmouse's hair must have surprised them not a little; all //(f// could see standing before them , however, was — the angelic owner often thousand a-year. The only person tolerably at his ease, and he only tolerably, was Mr. Tag-rag; and he asked his guest — " Wash your hnnds, Titmouse, before dinner?" But Titmouse said he had washed them before he had come out. [The day was hot, and he had walked five miles at a slapping pace.] In a few minutes, howe\er, he felt a little more assured ; it being impos- sible for him not to perceive the awful deference with which hi7/ say this for you — you always was a pattern of modesty and propriety — your hand , my dear Titmouse! " "Well — I 'm a happy man again," resumed Titmouse, re- solved now to go on with his adventure. 'And when did they tell you of it. Sir?" "Oh, a few days ago — a week ago," replied Tag-rag, trying to recollect. "Why — why— Sir — a'n't you mistaken?" enquiredTilmouse, with a depressed, but at the same time a surprised air. "It only happened this morning , after you left " — "Eh?— eh? — ah, ha! — What rfo you mean, Mr.Tiimouse?" interrupted Tag-rag, with a faint attempt at a smile. Mrs. Tag- rag and Miss Tag-rag also turned exceedingly startled faces to- wards Titmouse, who felt as if a house were going to fall dowQ on him. - "Why, Sir," he began to cry, (an attempt which was greatly aided by the maudlin condition to which drink had reduced liini,) "till to-day, I thought I was heir to ten thousand a-ycar, and it seems I 'm not; it's all a mistake of those cursed people at Saffron Hill!" Tag-rag's face changed visibly, and showed the desperate shock he had just sustained. His inward agony was forcing out on his slanting forehead a dew of perspiration. "What — a — capital — joke — Mr. — Titmouse — ah , ha!" — he gasped, hastily passing his handkerchief over his fun-head. Titmouse, though greatly alarmed, stood to his gun pretty stea- dily. "I — I wish it was a joke! It's been no joke to tne, Sir. There's another Tittlebat Titmouse, it seems, in Shoredilch, that's the right " — "Who told you this, Sir? Pho, I don't — I ciin't believe it," said Tag-rag, in a voice tremulous between suppressed rage and fear. Ten Thousand a-Year. J. 14 210 "Too true, though, 'pen ray life! It is, so help me — !" in the most earnest and solemn manner. "How dare you swear before ladies , Sir? You 're insulting them, Sir!" cried Tag-rag, trembling with rage. "And in 7/i!/ presence, too, Sir? You're not a gentleman!" He suddenly dropped his voice, and, in a trembling and almost beseeching manner , asked Titmouse whether he was really joking or serious. "Ne\er more serious in my life, Sir; and enough to make me so, Sir!" replied Titmouse, in a lamentable manner. "You really mean, then, to tell me it 's all a mistake, then — and that you 're no more than what you always were?" enquired Tag-rag , with a desperate attempt to speak calmly. "Oh yes, Sir! Yes!" cried Titmouse mournfully; "and if you 'II only be so kind as to let me serve you as I used — ni serve you faithfully! You know it was no fault oUnine , Sir! They would lell me it was so ! " ' T is impossible to conceive a more disgusting expression than the repulsive features of Tag-rag wore at that moment, while he gazed in ominous and agitated silence at Titmouse. His lips quivered , and he seemed incapable of speaking. "Oh, Ma, I do feel jo ill!" faintly exclaimed Miss Tag-rag, turning deadly pale. Titmouse was on the verge of dropping on his knees and confessing the trick, greatly agitated at the effect unexpectedly produced on Miss Tag-rag; when Tag-rag's heavy hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder, and he whispered in a fierce under tone — "You 're an impostor. Sir!" which arrested Titmouse, and made something like a man of him. He was a fearful fool, but he did not want for mere pluck; and now it was roused. Mrs. Tag-rag exclaimed, "Oh, you shocki?ig scampi" as she passed Titmouse, with much agitation, and led her daughter out of the room. "Tlien an impostor, Sir, a'n't fit company for ?/o?/, of course. Sir!" said Titmouse rising, and trembling with mingled appre- hension and anger. "Pay me my five-pound note!" almost shouted Tag-rag, furiously tightening the grasp by which he held Titmouse's collar. 211 "Well, Sir, and I will, if you '11 only lake your hand off! Hollo, Sir — What the de — Leave go, Sir! Hands ofT! Are you going to murder me? I 'II pay you, and done wilh you, Sir," stammered Titmouse: — when a I'aint scream was heard, plainly from Miss Tag-rag, overhead , and in hysterics. Then the seeth- ing caldron boiled over. "You w/(?7'«a/ scoundrel !" exclaimed Tag-rag, almost choked with fury; and suddenly seizing Tit- mouse by the collar, scarce gi\ing him time, in passing, to get hold of his hat and stick, he urged him along through the pas- sage, down the gravel walk, threw open the gate, thrust him furiously through it, and sent after him such a blast of execra- tion, as was almost strong enough to drive him a hundred yards down the road! Titmouse did not fully recover his breath or his senses for a long while afterwards. When he did , (he first thing he experienced, was a dreadful disposition towards sick- ness; but gradually overcoming it, he felt an inclination to fail down on his knees in the open road, and worship the sagacious and admirable Gammon, who had so exactly predicted what had come to pass! And now , Mr. Titmouse , for some little time I have done wilh you. Away! — give room to your belters. But don't think that I have yet " rifled a// your sweetness," or am ?/ef about to "(ling you like a noisome weed away." CHAPTER VII. While the lofty door of a house in Grosvenor Street was yet quivering under the shock of a previously announced dinner- arrival, one of the two servants standing behind a carriage which approached from the direction of Piccadilly, slipped off, and in a twinkling, with a thun-thun-lhunder-under-under, thnnder- runder-runder, thun-thun-thun ! and a shrill thrilling //7((>-r-r of the bell , announced the arrival of the Duke of — , the last guest. It was a large and plain carriage, but perfectly well-known ; and before the door of the house at which it had drawn up had been opened , displaying some four or five servants standing in the hall, in simple but elegant liveries, some half-dozen passengers had 14* 212 slopped to see get out of the carriage an elderly, middle-sized man, with a somewhat spare figure, dressed in plain black clothes, with iron-grey hair, and a countenance which, once seen, was not to be forgotten. That was a great man ; one, the like of whom many previous centuries had not seen; whose name shot terror into the hearts of all the enemies of old England ail over the world, and fond pride and admiration into the hearts of his lellow-countrymen. "A quarter to eleven!" he said, in a quiet tone, to the ser- vant who was holding open the carriage door — w hile the bystan- ders took off their hats; a courtesy which he acknowledged , as he slowly stepped across the pavement , by touching his hat in a me- chanical sort of way with his forefinger. The house-door then closed upon him ; the handful of onlookers passed away ; off rolled the empty carriage, and all without was quiet as before. The house was that of Mr. Aubrey, one of the members for the borough of Yatton, in Yorkshire — a man of rapidly rising importance in Parliament, Surely his was a pleasant position — that of an inde- pendent country gentleman , a member of one of the most ancient noble families in England , with a clear unincumbered rent-roll of ten thousand a-year, and already, in only his tbirly-fuurth year, the spokesman of his class, and promising to become one of the ablest debaters in the House ! Parliament having been assembled, in consequence of a particular emergency, at a much earlierperiod than usual, the House of Commons, in which Mr. Aubrey had the evening before delivered a well-timed and powerful speech , had adjourned for the Christmas recess, the House of Lords being about to follow its example that evening: an important division, however, being first expected to take place at a late hour. Mr. Aubrey was warmly complimented on his success by several of the select and brilliant circle then assembled ; and who were all in high spirits — on account of a considerable triumph just obtained by their party, and to which Mr, Aubrey was assured, by even the Duke of — , his exertions had certainly not a little contributed. While his Grace was energetically intimating to ftlr. Aubrey his opinion to this elfect, there were two lovely women listening to him with intense eagerness — they were the wife and sister of Mr. 213 Aubrey. The former was a very interesting and handsome woman — with ravon hair, and a complexion of dazzling fairness — of nearly eight-aud-lwenty ; the latter was a very beautiful girl, some- where between twenty and twenty-one. Both were dressed with the utmost simplicity and elegance. Mrs. Aubrey, most doatingly fond of her husband, and a blooming young mother of two as charming children as were to be met with in a day's walk all over both the parks, was, in character and manners, all pliancy and gentleness; while about Miss Aubrey there was a dash of spirit which gave an infinite zest to her beauty. Her blue eyes beamed with the richest expression of feeling— in short, Catherine Aubrey was, both in face and figure, a downright English beauty; and she knew — truth must be told — that such she appeared to the Great Duke, whose cold aquiline eye she often fell to be settled upon her with satisfaction. The fact was, that he had penetrated at a first glance beneath the mere surface of an arch, sweet, and winning manner, and detected a certain strength of character in Miss Aubrey which gave him more than usual interest in her, and spread over his iron-cast features a pleasant expression, relaxing their sternness. It might indeed be said, that before her, in his person , "Grini-visagcd war had smooth'd his wrinkled front." T was a subject for a painter, that delicate and blooming girl, her auburn hair hanging in careless grace on each side of her white forehead, while her eyes, ",That might have soolh'd a tiger's rage, Or lliaw'd the cold heart of a conqueror," were flxed with absorbed interest on the stern and rigid counte- nance which she reflected had been, as it were, a thousand limes darkened with the smoke of the grisly baltle-lield. But I must not forget that there are others in the room ; and amongst them, stand- ing at a little distance. Is Lord Dc la Zouch , one of .Mr. Aubrey's neighbours in Yorkshire. Apparently he is listening to a brother peer talking to him very earnestly about the expected division ; but Lord De la Zouch's eye is fixed on you, lovely Kate — and how little can you imagine what is passing through his mind! It has just occurred to him that his sudden arrangement for joung Dela- 214 mere — his only son and heir, come up ihe day before from Oxford — to call for him about half-past ten , and take his place in Mrs. Aubrey's drawing-room, while Lord De la Zouch goes down to the House — may be attended with certain consequences! He is ia truth speculating on the effect of your beauty bursting suddenly oa his son — who has not seen you for nearly two years ! all this gives him anxiety — but not painful anxiety — for, dear Kate, he knows that your forehead would wear the ancient coronet of the De la Zouches with grace and dignity. But Delamere is as yet too young — and if he gets the image of Catherine Aubrey into his head , it w ill , fears his father, instantly cast into the shade and displace all the stern visages of those old geometers, poets, orators, historians, philosophers, and statesmen, who ought, in Lord De la Zouch and his son's tutor's judgment, to occupy exclusively the head of the aforesaid Delamere for some five years to come. That young- ster — happy fellow! — frank, high-spirited, and enthusiastic — and handsome to boot — was heir to an ancient title and very great estates; all that his father had considered in looking out for aa alliance was — youth, health, beauty, blood — here they all were ; — and fortune too — bah ! w hat did it signify to his son — but at any rate 't was not to be thought of for some years. "Suppose" said he aloud, though in a musing manner, "one were to say — twenty-four" — '■•Twenly-foiir!" echoed his companion with amazement; •' my dearDe la Zouch, what the deuce do you mean? Eig/ttij-four at the very lowest!" "Eh? what? oh — yes of course — I should say ninety — I mean — hem ! — (heij will muster about twenty-four only." "Ah — I beg your pardon ! — thei'e you 're right, I daresay." — Here the announcement of dinner put an end to the colloquy of the two statesmen. Lord De la Zouch led dow n Miss Aubrey with an air of the most delicate and cordial courtesy; and felt almost disposed, in the heat of the moment, to tell her that he had arranged all in his own mind — that \(she willed it, she had his hearty con- sent to become the future Lady De la Zouch. He was himself the ele\enth who had come to the title in direct descent from father to sou; 't was a point he was not a little nervous and anxious about — 215 he dcleslcd collateral succession — and he made himself infinitely agreeable toMiss Aubrey as he sat beside her at dinner! TlieDuke of — sat on the right hand side of Mrs. Aubrey, seemingly in high spirits, and she appeared proud enough of her supporter. It was a delightful dinner-party , elegant without ostentation , and select without pretence of exclusiveness. All were cheerful and ani- mated, not merely on account of the over-night's parliamentary victory, which I have already alluded to, but also in contemplation of the coming Christmas; how, and where, and with whom each was to spend that " righte merrie season ," being the chief topic of conversation. As there was nothing peculiar in the dinner, and as I have no turn for describing such matters in detail — the clatter of plate, the jingling of silver, the sparkling of wines, and so forth — I shall request the reader to imagine himself led by me quietly out of the dining-room into the library — thus escaping from all the bustle and hubbub attendant upon such an entertain- ment as is going on in front of the house. We shall be alone in the library — here it is; we enter it, and shut the door. 'T is a spacious room, all the sides covered with books, of which Mr. Aubrey is a great collector —and the clear red fire (which we must presently replenish, or it will go out) is shedding a subdued ruddy light on all the objects in the room , very favourable for our pur- pose. The ample table is covered with books and papers; and there is an antique-looking arm-chair drawn opposite to the fire, in which Mr. Aubrey has been indulging in a long reverie till the moment of quitting it to go and dress for dinner. This chair 1 shall sit in myself ; you may draw out from the recess for yourself, one of two little sloping easy-chairs, which have been placed there by Mrs. and Miss Aubrey for their own sole use, considering that they are excellent judges of the period at which Mr. Aubrey has been long enough alone, and at which they should come in and gossip with him. We may as well draw the dusky green curtains across the window , through which the moon shines at present rather too brightly. — So now, after coaxing up the fire, I will proceed to tell you a little bit of pleasant family history. The Aubreys are a Yorkshire family — the younger branch of the ancient and noble family of the Dreddlingtons. Their rcsi- 216 dence, Yatton, is in the norlh-eastern part of the county, not above flfleen or twenty miles from the sea. The hall is one of those old structures, the sight of which throws you back a couple of centuries in our English history. It stands in a park, crowded ^vilh trees , many of tiiem of great age and size , and under which two or three hundred head of deer perform their capricious and graceful gambols. In approaching from London, you strike off from the great north road into a broad by-way ; after going down which for about a mile, you come to a straggling little village called Yatton , at the further extremity of which stands a little aged grey church, with a tali thin spire; an immense yew-tree, with a kind of friendly gloom, overshadowing, in the little church- yard, nearly half the graves. Rather in the rear of the church is the \icarage-house, snug and sheltered by a line of fir-trees. After walking on about eighty yards, you come to high park- gates, and see a lodge just within, on the left hand side, shel- tered by an elm-tree. Having passed through these gates, you wind your way for about two-thirds of a mile along a gravel walk, amongst the thickening trees, till you come to a ponderous old crumbling-looking red brick gateway of the lime of Henry VII., ■with one or two deeply set stone windows in the turrets, and mouldering stone- capped battlements peeping through high- climbing ivy. There is an old escutcheon immediately over the point of the arch; and as you pass underneath, if you look up, you can plainly see the groove of the old portcullis still remaining. Having passed under this castellated remnant, you enter a kind of court, formed by a high wall completely covered with ivy, run- ning along in a line from the right hand turret of the gateway till it joins the house. Along its course are a number of yew-trees. In the centre of the open space is a quaintly disposed grass-plat, dotted about with stunted box, and in the centre of that stands a ■weather-beaten stone sundial. The house itself is a large irre- gular pile of dull red brickwork, with great stacks of chimneys in the rear; the body of the building has evidently been erected at dilTerent times. Some part is evidently in the style of Queen Eli- zabeth's reign, another in that of Queen Anne: and it is plain that on the site of the present structure has formerly stood a 217 caslle. There are, indeed, traces of the old moat still visible round the rear of (he house. One of the ancient towers, with small deep slonc ^^irldow■s, still remains, giving its venerable support to the ri{,'ht-hand extremity of the building, as you stand with your face to the door. The lonj,' frontage of the house con- sists of two huge masses of dusky-red briciiwork, (you can hardly call them loinf^s,) connected together by a lower building in the centre , which contains the hall. There are three or four rows of long tiiin deep windows, with heavy-looking wooden sashes. The high-pitched roof is of red tiles, and has deep projecting eaves, forming, in fact, a bold wooden cornice running along the whole length of the building, which is some two or three stories high. At the left extremity stands a clump of ancient cedars of Lebanon, feathering in evergreen beauty down to the ground. The hall is large and lofty; the floor is of polished oak, almost the whole ot which is covered with thick matting; it is wainscoted all round with black oak; some seven or eight full-length pictures, evidently of considerable antiquity, being let into the panels. Quaint figures these are to be sure; and if they resembled the ancestors of the Aubrey family, those ancestors must have been singular and startling persons ! The faces are quite white and staring — all as if in wonder; and they have such long thin legs! some of them ending in sharp-pointed shoes. On each side of the ample fire- place stands a figure in full armour; and there are also ranged along the wall old helmets, cuirasses, swords, lances, battle- axes, and cross-bows, the very idea of wearing, wielding, and handling which, makes your arms ache, while you exclaim, "they 7nns( have been giants in those days!" On one side of this hall, a door opens into the dining-room, beyond which is the library; on the other side a door leads you into a noble room, now called the drawing-room, where stands a very line organ. Out of both the dining-room and drawing-room you pass up a staircase contained in an old sfjuare tower; two sides of each of Ihera, opening on the quadrangle, lead into a gallery running round it, and into which all the bed-rooms open. — But I need not go into further detail. Altogether it is truly a line old mansion. Its only constant occupant is Mrs. Aubrey, the mother of Mr. 218 Aubrey, in whose library we are now seated. She is a widow, having survived her husband, who twice was one of the county members, about filteen years. Mr. Aubrey is her first-born child, Miss Aubrey her last; four intervening children rest pre- maturely in the grave — and the grief and suffering consequent upon all these bereavements have sadly shaken her constitution, and made her, both in actual health , and in appearance, at least ten years older than she really is — for she has, in point of fact, not long since entered her sixtieth year. What a blessed life she leads at Yatlon ! Her serene and cheerful temper makes every one happy about her; and her charity is unbounded, but dispensed with a just discrimination. One way or another, almost a fourth of the village are direct pensioners upon her bounty. You have only to mention the name of Madam Aubrey , the lady of Yatton, to witness involuntary homage paid to her virtues. Her word is law; and well indeed it may be. While Mr. Aubrey, her husband, was, to the last, somewhat stern in his temper and reserved in his habits, bearing withal a spotless and lofty character, s/^ewas always what she still is, meek, gentle, accessible, charitable, and pious. On his death she withdrew from the world, and has ever since resided at Yatton — never having quitted it for a single day. There are in the vicinity one or two stately families, with ancient name, sounding title, and great possessions; but for tea miles round Yatton, old Madam Aubrey , the squire's mother, is the name that is enshrined in people's kindliest and most grateful feelings, and receives their readiest homage. 'T is perhaps a very small matter to mention, but there is at the hall an old white mare, Peggy, that for these twenty years, in all weathers, hath been the bearer of Madam's bounty. Thousands of times hath she carried Jacob Jones (now a pensioned servant , whose hair is as white as Peggy's) all over the estate, and also oft beyond it, with comfortable matters for the sick and poor. Most commonly there are a couple of stone bottles filled with cowslip, currant, ginger, or elderberry wine , slung before him over the well-worn saddle — to the carrying of which Peggy has got so accustomed , that she does not go comfortably without them. She has so fallen into the habits of old Jones, who is an inveterate gossip, (Madam having 219 helped lo make him such by the numerous enquiries she mnkes of him every morning as lo every one in the village and on Ihe estate, and whicli enquiries he must have the means of answering,) that, slowly as she jogs along, if ever she meets or is overtalien by any one, she stops of her own accord, as if to hear what they and her rider have to say to one another. She is a great favourite wilii all, and gets a mouthful of hay or grass at every place she stops at, either from the children or the old people. When poor Peggy comes to die, (and she is getting feeble, now.) she will be missed by all the folk round Yatlon ! Madam Aubrey , growing, I am sorry to say, less able to exert herself, does not go about as much as she used, betaking herself, therefore, oflencr and oftener, to the old"family coach; and when she is going to drive about the neighbourhood , you may almost always see it stop at the vicarage for old Dr. Tatham, who generally accompanies her. On these occasions she always has in the carriage a black velvet bag containing Testaments and Prayer-books, which are princi- pally distributed as rewards lo those whom the parson can re- commend as deserving of them. For these five-and-twenty years she has never missed giving a copy of each to every child in the village and on Ihe estate, on its being confirmed; and the old lady looks round very keenly every Sunday, from her pew, to see that these Bibles and Pr.iycr-books arc reveronlly used. I could go on for an hour and longer, tolling you these and oilier such matters of this exemplary lady; but we shall by and by have some opportunities of seeing and knowing more of her personally. Her features are delicate, and have been very handsome; and in manner she is very calm, and quiet, and dignified. She looks all that you would expect from what I have told you. The briskness of youth, the sedate firmness of middle-age, have years since given place, as you will see with some pain, to Ihe feebleness produced by ill health and mental sulTering — for she mourned grievously after those whom she had lost ! Oh ! how she doats upon her surviving son and daughter ! And are they not worthy of such a mother? Mr. Aubrey is in his thirty- fourth year; and inherits the mental qualities of both his parents — the demeanour and person 220 of his father. He has a reserve which is not cynical, but only diffident; yet it gives him , at least at first sight, and till you have Lcconie familiar with his features, which are of a cast at once re- fined and aristocratic, yet full of goodness — an air of hauteur, which is very — very far from his real nature. He has in truth the soft heart and benignant temper of his mother , joined with the masculine firmness of character which belonged to his father; which, however, is in danger of being seriously impaired by m- actiun. Sensitive he is, perhaps to a fault. There is a tone of melancholy in his composition, which has probably increased upon him from his severe studies, ever since his youth. He is a man of superior intellect; a. capital scholar; took the highest nonour at Oxford: and has since justified the expectations which v,ere then entertained of him. He has made several really valuable contributions to historic literature — indeed, I think he is even now engaged upon some researches calculated to throw much light upon the obscure origin of several of our political institutions. He has entered upon politics with uncommon — perhaps with an ex- cessive — ardour. I think he is likely to make an eminent figure in Parliament; for he is a man of very clear head, very patient, of business-like habits, ready in debate, and, moreover, has at once an impressive and engaging delivery as a public speaker. He is generous and charitable as his admirable mother, and care- less, even to a fault, of his pecuniary interests. He is a man of perfect simplicity and purity of character. Above all, his virtues are the virtues which had been sublimed by Christianity — as it were, the cold embers of morality warmed into religion. He stands happily equidistant from infidelity and fanaticism. He has looked for light from above, and has heard a voice saying, "This is the way, walk thou in it." His piety is the real source of that happy consistent dignity , and content, and firmness, which have earned him the respect of all who know him, and will bear him through whatever may befall him. He who standeth upon this rock cannot be moved, perhaps not even touched, by the surges of worldly reverses — of dilficuity and distress! In manner Mr. Aubrey is calm and gentlemanlike; in person he is rather above the middle height, and of slight make. From the way in 221 ubich his clothes hang about him, a certain sharpness at his shoulders catching the eye of an obscr>er — you \voulil feel an anxiety about his health, which would be increased by hearing of the mortality in his family; and your thoughts are perhaps pointed in the same direction, by a glance at his long, thin, delicate, wiiite hands. His countenance has a serene manliness about it when la repose, and great acuteness and vivacity when animated. His hair, not very full, is black as jet, his forehead ample and marked ; and his eyes are the exponents of perfect sincerity and acuteness. Mr. Aubrey has been married about six years; 't was a case of love at first sight. Chance (so to speak) threw him in the way of Agnes St. Clair, >vithin a few weeks after she had been bereaved of her only parent. Colonel St. Clair, a man of old but impo- verished family, who fell in the Peninsular war. Had he lived only a month or two longer, he would have succeeded to a con- siderable estate; as it was, he left his only child comparatively penniless; but Heaven had endowed her with personal beauty, with a lovely disposition, and su[)erior understanding. It was not till after a long and anxious wooing, backed by the cordial en- treaties of Mrs. Aubrey, that Miss St. Clair consented to become the wife of a man, who, to this hour, loves her with all the pas- sionate ardour with which she had first inspired him. And richly she deserves his love! She does, indeed, doat u])on him; she studies, orrathcr, perhaps, anticipates his every wish ; in short, had the whole sex been searched for one calculated to make happy the morbidly fastidious Aubrey, the choice must surely have fallen on >"Miss St. Clair; a woman whose temper, whose tastes, and whose manners were at once in delicate and harmonizing unison and contrast with his own. She has hitherto brought him but two children — and those very beautiful children, too — a boy between four and five years old, and a girl about two years old. If I were to hint my own impressions, I should say there was a probability — be that, however, as it may, 't is an alTair we have nothing to do with at present. Of Catherine Aubrey you had a momentary moonlight glimpse at a former period of this history;* and you have seen her this * Sec n/ite , p. 110. ^^ ^ m^ evening under other, and perhaps not less interesting circum- stances. Now, Mhere have you beheld a more exquisite specimen of budding womanhood? — but I feel that I shall get extravagant if I begin to dwell upon her charms. You have seen her — judge for yourself; but you do not knoio her as I do ; and I shall tell you that her personal beauty is but a faint emblem of the beauties of her mind and character. She is Aubrey's youngest — now his only sister; and he cherishes her with the tcuderest and fondest affection. Neither he, nor his mother — with whom she spends her time alternately — can bear to part with her for ever so short an interval. She is the gay, romping playmate of the little Aubreys; the demure secretary and treasurer of her mother. I say demure^ for there is a sly humour and archness in Kate's composition, which flickers about even her gravest moods. She is calculated equally for the seclusion of Yatton and the splendid atmosphere of Almack's; but for the latter she seems at present to have little inclination. Kale is a girl of decided character, of strong sense, of high principle; all of which are irradiated , not overborne, by her sparkling vivacity of temperament. She has real talent; and her raind has been trained, and her tastes di- rected, with affectionate skill and vigilance by her gified brother. She has many accomplishments; but the only one I shall choose here to name is — music. She was one to sing and play before a man of the most fastidious taste and genius! I defy any man to hear the rich tones of Miss Aubrey's voice without feeling his heart moved. Music is with her a matter not olart but oifeelmg • — of passionate feeling; but hark! — hush! — surely — yes, that is Miss Aubrey's voice — yes, that is her clear and brilliant touch; the ladies have ascended to the drawing-room, and we must presently follow them. IIow time has passed! I had a great deal more to tell you about the family, but we must take some other opportunity. Yes, it is Miss Aubrey, playing on the new and superb piano given by her brother last week to Mrs. Aubrey. Do you see with what a careless grace and ease she is giving a very sweet but didicull composition of Haydn? The lady who is standing by her to turn over her music, is the celebrated Countess ofLydsdale. 223 She is still young and beautiful ; but beside Miss Aubrey she pre- sents a some\>iiat painful contrast! 'T is all the di (Terence between an artificial and a natural flower. Poor Lady Lydsdale! you are not happy with all your fashion and splendour; the glitter of your ' diamonds cannot compensate for the loss of the sparkling spirits of a younger day ; they pale their ineffectual fires beside the fresh and joyous spirit of Catherine Aubrey ! You sigh — "Now, 1 '11 sing you quite a new thing," said Miss Aubrey, starting up, and turning over her portfolio till she came to a sheet of paper, on which were some verses in her own handwriting, and with which she sate down again before the piano : "The words were written by my brother, and I have found an old air that exactly suits them!" Here her fingers, wandering lightly and softly over the keys, gave forth a beautiful symphony in the minor; after which, with a rich and soft voice, she sang the following: — PEACE. I. Wtiere, O where ITath gcnlle Pkacf. found rest? Builds she in bower of lady fairV — But LovK — he haih possession there; Not long is s/ie the guest. II. Sits she crown'd Beneath a pictured dome? But there Ambition keeps his ground, And Fear and Envy skulk around; This cannot be her home I Will she hide In scholar's pensive cell ? But fie already halh his bride: Him Mklancholy sils beside — With her she may not dwell. IV. Now and then, Peace, wandering, lays her head On regal couch, in captive's den — But nowhere finds she rest wilh men Or only with the dead! 224 To these words, trembling on the heautiful lips of Miss Aubrey, was listening an unperceived auditor, with eyes devour- ing her every feature, and ears absorbing every tone of her thrilling voice. It was young Delamere, who had, only a mo- ment or two before Miss Aubrey had commenced singing the above lines, alighted from his father's carriage, which was then waiting at the door to carry off Lord De la Zouch to the House of Lords. Arrested by the rich voice of the singer, he stopped short before he had entered the drawing-room iu which she sate, and, stepping to a corner where he was hid from view, though he could distinctly see .Miss Aubrey, there he remained as if rooted to the spot. He, too, had a soul for music; and the exquisite manner in which Miss Aubrey gave the last verse , called up before his excited fancy the vivid image of a dove fluttering with agitated uncertainty over the sea of human life ; even like the dove over the waters enveloping the earth iu olden time. The mournful minor into which she threw the last two lines , excited a heart susceptible of the liveliest emotions to a degree which it required some effort to control, and almost a tear to relieve. When Miss Aubrey had quitted the piano, Mrs. Aubrey followed, and gave a very delicate sonata from Haydn. Then sat down Lady Lydsdale, and dashed off, in an exceedingly brilliant style, a scejia from the new opera, which quickly reduced the excited feelings of Delamere to a pitch admitting of his presenting him- self! While this lowering process was going on, Delamere took down a small volume from a tasteful little cabinet of books im- mediately behind him. It was Spenser's Favnj Queen. He found many pencil-marks, evidently made by a light female hand; and turning lo Ihe fly-leaf, beheld the \\aim& oi '■'■ Catlicrine Aubreu" His heart fluttered; he turned towards the piano, and beheld the graceful figure of Miss Aubrey standing beside Lady Lydsdale, in an attitude of delighted earnestness — for her Ladyship was undoubtedly a very brilliant performer — totally unconscious of the admiring eye which was fixed upon her. After gazing at her for some moments, he gently pressed the autograph to his lips; and solemnly vowed within himself, in the most deliberate manner possible , that if he could not marry Kate Aubrey, he would never 225 marry any body; he would, moreover, quit England for ever; aud deposit a broken heart in a foreign grave — and so forth. Thus calmly resolved — or rather to such a resolution did his thoughts tend — that sedate person, tiie Honourable Geoffrey Lo>el Delamere. He was a high-spirited, frank-hearted fellow; and, like a good-natured fool, whom bitter kno\> ledge of the world has not cooled down into contempt for a very considerable portion of it, trusted and loved almost every one whom he saw. At that moment there was only one person in the whole world that he hated, viz. the miserable individual — if any such there wore — who might have happened to forestall him in the alfections of Miss Aubrey. The bare idea made his breath come and go quickly, and his cheek flush. Why, he felt that he had a sort o( rig/d to Miss Aubrey's heart; for had they not been born, and had they not lived almost all their lives, within a few miles of each other? Had they not often played together? — were not their family estates almost contiguous? — Delamere advanced into the room , assuming as unconcerned an air as he could ; but he fell not a little tried when Miss Aubrey, on seeing him , gaily and frankly extended her hand to him, supposing liirn to ha\e only the moment before entered the house. Poor Delamere's hand slightly quivered as he felt it clasping the soft lilied fingers of her whom he had thus resolved to make his wife: what would he not have given to have carried them to his lips! Now, if I were to say that in the course of that evening, Miss Aubrey did not form a kind — of a sort — of a faint — notion of the possible stale of matters with young Delamere, I should not be treating the reader with that eminent degree of candour for w hich I think he, or she , is at present disposed to give me credit. IJul Kate was deeply skilled in human nature, and promptly settled the matter by one very just reflection, viz. that Delamere was, in contemplation of law , a mere infant — i. e. he wanted yet several w ecks of twenty- one I aud, therefore, that it was not likely that, 4<-c. d-c. ery respect this was aChristmas dinner after one's own heart! Oh the merry and dear old Yatton ! And 249 as if there were not loveliness enough already in the room , behold the door suddenly pushed open , as soon as the dessert is arrayed on the table, and run up to his gay and laughing mother, her little son, his ample snowy collar resting gracefully on his crimson velvet dress. 'T is her hope and pride — her first-born — the little squire; but where is his sister? — where is Agnes? 'T is even as Charles says — she fell asleep in the very act of being dressed, and they were obliged to put her to bed; so Charles is alone in his glory. You may well fold your delicate white arm around him , mamma ! — His little gold cup is nearly Oiled to join in the first toast: are you all — dear little circle! — are you all ready? The worthy doctor has poured old Mrs. Aubrey's, and young Mrs. Aubrey's, and Kate's glass full up to the brim: — ^' Our next Christmas!" quoth he, cheerily elevating his glass. Yes, your next Christmas! The vigilant eye of Dr. Tatham alone perceived a faint change of colour in Mr. Aubrey's cheek as the. words were uttered; and his eye wandered for an instant, as if tracing across the room the image of old blind Bess; but 't was gone in a moment; Aubrey was soon in much higher spirits than usual. Well he might be. How could man be placed in happier circumstances than he was? As soon as the three ladies had with- drawn, together with little Aubrey, the doctor and Mr. Aubrey drew their chairs before the fire, and enjoyed a long hour's pleasant conversation , on matters domestic and political. As to the latter, the doctor and the Squire were stout Tories; and a speech which Aubrey had lately delivered in the House , on the Catholic claims, had raised him to a pitch of eminence in the doctor's estimation, vhere Aubrey had \ery few men in the country to keep him com- pany. The doctor here got on very fast indeed; and was just assuring the Squire that he saw dark days in store for Old England from the machinations of the Papists; and that, for his part, he should rejoice to "seal his testimony with his blood ," and would go to the slake not only without flinching, but rejoicing — (all vhich I verily believe /to verily believed he would have done) — and coveting the crown of martyrdom — when Aubrey caught the sound of his sister playing on the organ, a noble instrument 250 which a year or two before, at her urgent request, he had pur- chased and placed in the drawing-room, whither he and the doctor at once repaired. 'T was a spacious and lofty room, well calcu- lated for the splendid instrument which occupied the large recess fronting the door. Miss Aubrey was playing Handel, and with an exquisite perception of his matchless power and beauty. Hark ! did you ever hear the grand yet simple recitative she is now com- mencing? "In the days of Herod the Icing , behold, there came toise men from the East to Jerusalem , " Saying — iVhere is he that is horn King of the Jews 1 for we have teen his star in the East , and are come to worship him." The doctor officiated as chaplain that evening. The room was almost filled with servants, many of whose looks very plainly showed the merry doings which must have been going on in the servants' hall. Some could scarce keep their eyes open; one or two sat winking at each other ! and others were fairly asleep, and snoring! Under the circumstances, therefore, the doctor, with much judgment, read very short prayers, and immediately after- wards took his departure for his snug little vicarage. The moon shone brightly , the air was clear and bracing, and he felt as blithe as a bird as he walked homeward ! The next morning, which proved as fine as the preceding, Mr. Aubrey was detained in-doors with his letters, and one or two other little matters of business in his library, till luncheon time. "What say you, Kate, to a ride round the country?" said he, on taking his seat. Kate was delighted; and forthwith the horses were ordered to be got ready as soon as possible. " You must not mind a little rough riding, Kate, by the way," said Aubrey; "for we shall have to get over some ugly places! — I 'm going to meet Waters at the end of the avenue , about that old sycamore — we must have it down at last." "Oh no, Charles, no; I thought we had settled that last year I" replied Kate earnestly. "Pho! if it had not been for you, Kate, Jt would have been down two years ago at least. Its hour is come at last; 'tis indeed, 251 so no pouting! It is injuring the other trees; and, besides, it spoils the prospect from the left wing of the house. "'Tis only Waters that puts all these things into your head, Charles, and I shall let him know my opinion on the subject when I see him ! Mamma , haven't you a word to say for the old " — But Mr. Aubrey, not deeming it discreet to await the new force which was being brought against him, started off to inspect a newly purchased horse , just brought to the stables. Kate, who really became every thing, looked charming in her blue riding-habit and hat, sitting on her horse with infinite ease and grace; in fact, a capital horsewoman. The exercise soon brought a rich bloom upon her cheek; and as she cantered along the road by the side of her brother, no one could have met them without being almost startled at her beauty. Just as they had dropped into an easy walk — "Charles," said she, observing two horsemen approaching them, "who can these be? Heavens! did you ever see such figures? And how they ride !" "Why, certainly," replied her brother smiling, "they look a brace of arrant Cockneys ! Ah , ha ! — what can they be doing in these parts?" "Dear me, what puppies!" exclaimed Miss Aubrey, lowering her voice as they nearcd the persons she spoke of. "They are certainly a most extraordinary couple! Who can they be?" said Mr. Aubrey , a smile forcing itself into his features. One of the gentlemen thus referred to , was dressed in a light blue surtout, with the tip of a white pocket-handkerchief seen peeping out of a pocket in the front of it. Ilis hat, with scarce any brim to it, w as stuck aslant on the top of a bushy head of queer-coloured hair. His shirt-collar was turned down completely over his stock, displaying a great quantity of dirt-coloured hair under his chin; •vshile a pair of mustaches, of the same colour, were sprouting upon his upper lip, and a perpendicular tuft depended from his under lip. A quizzing-glass was stuck in his right eye , and in his hand he carried a whip with a shining silver head. The other was almost equally distinguished by the elegance of his appearance. He had a glossy hat, a purple-coloured velvet waistcoat, two pins 252 connected by liule chains in his stock, a botHe-grecn surtout, sky-blue trowsers, and a most splendid riding-whip. In short, who should these be but our old friends, Messrs. Titmouse and Snap? Whoever they might be — and whatever their other accom- plishments, it was plain that they were perfect novices on horse- back ; and their horses had every appearance of having been much fretted and worried by their riders. To the surprise of Mr. Aubrey and his sister, these two personages attempted to rein in as they Beared, and evidently intended to speak to them. «'Pray — a — Sir, will you. Sir, tell us," commenced Tit- mouse, with a desperate attempt to appear at his ease, as he tried to make his horse stand still for a moment — "isn't there a place called — called" — here his horse , whose sides were constantly being galled by the spurs of its unconscious rider, began to back a little; then to go on one side, and, in Titmouse's fright, his glass dropped from his eye, and he seized hold of the pummel. Nevertheless , to show the lady how completely he was at his ease all the while, he levelled a great many oaths and curses at the unfortunate eyes and soul of. his wayward brute; who, however, not in the least moved by them , but iiilinilely disliking the spurs of its rider and the twisting round of its mouth by the reins, seemed more and more inclined for mischief, and backed close up to the edge of the ditch. " I 'm afraid, Sir," said Mr. Aubrey kindly and very earnestly, •'you are not much accustomed to riding. Will you permit tne — " Oh, ves — ye — ye — s. Sir, I a7n though, — uncommon — whee-o-uy! whuoy!" — (then a fresh volley of oaths.) "Oh, dear, 'pon my soul — ho! my eyes ! — what— what /5 he going to do! Snap! Snap!" — 'Twas, however, quite in vain to call on that gentleman for assistance; for he had grown as pale as death, on finding that his own brute seemed strongly disposed to follow the infernal example (or rather, as it were, the converse of it) of the other, and was particularly inclined to rear up on its liind-legs. The very first motion of that sort brought Snap's heart (not large enough, perhaps, to choke him) into his mouth. Tit- mouse's beast, in the meanwhile, suddenly wheeled roundj and 253 throwing its hind feet into the air, sent its terrified rider flying, head over lieels, into the very middle of the hedge, from which he dropped into the soft wet dileh on the road-side. Botii Mr. Aubrey and his groom immediately dismounted, and secured the horse, who, having got rid of its ridiculous rider, stood perfectly quiet. Titmouse proved to be more frightened than hurl. His hat was crushed flat on his head , and half the left side of his face covered with mud — as, indeed, were his clothes all the way down. The groom (almost splitting with laughter) helped him on his horse again; and as Mr. and Miss Aubrey were setting off — "I think, Sir," said the former politely, "you were enquiring for some place?" "Yes, Sir," quoth Snap. "Isn't there a place called Ya — Yat — Yal — (be quiet, you brute!) — Yalton about here? " "Yes, Sir — straight on ," replied Mr. Aubrey. Miss Aubrey hastily threw her veil o\er her face, to conceal her laughter, urging on her horse; and she and her brother were soon out of sight of the strangers. "Isay, Snap," quoth Titmouse, when he had in a measure cleansed himself, and they had both got a little composed, "see that lovely gal?" "Fine gal — devilish fine !" replied Snap. "I 'm blessed if I don't think — 'pon my life , I believe we 'vo met before!" "Didn't seem to know you though!" — quoth Snap, some- what dryly. "Ah! you don't know — How uncommon infernal unfor- tunate to happen just at the moment when" — Titmouse became silent; for all of a sudden he recollected when and where, and under what circumstances he had seen Miss Aubrey before, and which his vanity would not allow of his telling Snap. The fact was, that she had once accompanied her sister-in-law to Messrs. Tag-rag and Company's, to purchase some small matter of mer- cery. Titmouse had served them; and his absurdity of manner and personal appearance had provoked a smile, which Titmouse a little misconslrued; for when, a Sunday or two afterwards, he met her in the Park, the little fool actually had the presumptioa 254 to nod to her — she having not the slightest notion who the little wretch might be — and of course not having, on the present oc- casion, the least recollection of him. The reader will recollect that this incident made a deep impression on the mind of Mr. Titmouse. The coincidence was really not a little singular — but to return to Mr. Aubrey and his sister. After riding a mile or two further up the road, they leaped over a very low mound or fence, which formed the extreme boundary of that part of the estate, and having passed through a couple of fields, they entered the eastern extre- mity of that fine avenue of elms, at the higher end of which stood Kate's favourite tree, and also Waters and his under-bailiff — who looked to her like a couple of executioners, only awaiting the fiat ol her brother. The sun shone brightly upon the doomed sycamore — " the axe was laid at its root." As they rode up the avenue, Kale begged very hard for mercy; but for once her brother seemed obdurate — the tree , he said, must come down — 't was all nonsense to think of leaving it standing any longer! — "Remember, Charles," said she passionately, as they drew up, "how we 've all of us romped and sported under it! Poor papa also" — "See, Kate, how rotten it is," said her brother; and riding close to it, with his whip he snapped off two or three of its feeble silvery-grey branches — "it 's high time for it to come down." "It fills the grass all round with little branches. Sir, when- ever there 's the least breath of wind ," said Waters. "It won't hardly hold a crow's weight on the topmost branches, Sir," added Dickons, the under-bailiff, very modestly. "Had it any leaves last summer?" enquired Mr. Aubrey. "I don't think, Sir," replied Waters, "it had a hundred all over it!" "Really, Kate," said her brother , " 't is such a melancholy, unsightly object, when seen from any part of the Hall" — turning round on his horse to look at the rear of the Hall, which was at about two hundred yards' distance. "It looks such an old withered thing amongst the fresh green trees around it — 't is quite a pain- ful contrast." Kate had gently urged on her horse while her 255 brother was speaking, till she was close beside him. " Charles," said she, in a low whisper, "does not it remind you a Utile of poor old mamma, with her grey hairs, among her children and grandchildren? She is not out of place amongst us — is she?" Her eyes filled with tears. So did her brother's. "Dearest Kate," said he, with emotion, affectionately grasp- ing her little hand, "you have triumphed! The old tree shall never be cut dowu in my time! Waters, let the tree stand; and if any thing is to be done to it — let the greatest possible care be taken of it." Miss Aubrey turned her head aside to conceal her emotion. Had they been alone, she would have flung her arms round her brother's neck. "If I were to speak my mind, Sir," said the compliant Wa- ters, seeing the turn things were taking, "I should say, with our young lady, the old tree 's quite a kind of ornament in this here situation, and (as one might say) it sets off the rest." [It was he who had been worrying Mr. Aubrey for these last three years to have it cut down !] "Well," replied Mr. Aubrey, "however that may be, let me hear no more of cutting it down — Ah ! what does old Joltcr want here?" said he, observing an old tenant of that name, almost bent double with age, hobbling towards them. He was wrapped up in a coarse thick blue coat; his hair was long and white ; his eyes dim and glassy with age. "1 don't kn«w. Sir — I 'II go and see," said Waters. " What 's the matter, Jolter?" he enquired, stepping forward to meet him. "Nothing much, Sir," replied the old man, feebly, and panting, taking off his hat, and bowing very low towards Mr. and Miss Aubrey. "Put your hat on, my old friend," said Mr. Aubrey kindly. "I only come to bring you this bit of paper. Sir, if you please," said the old man, addressing Waters. "Vousaid, awhileago, as how I was always to bring you papers that were left with me; and this" — taking one out of his pocket — "was left with me only about an hour ago. It 's seemingly a lawyer's paper, and was left by an uncommon gay young chap. He asked me my 256 name, and then he looked at the paper, and read it all over to me, but I couldn't make any thing of it." "What is it?'' enquired Mr. Aubrey, "as Waters cast his eye over a sheet of paper, partly prinled and partly written. "Why, it seems the old story, Sir — that slip of waste land, Sir. Mr. Tomkins is at it again , Sir." "Well, if he chooses to spend his money in that way, I can't help it," said Mr. Aubrey with a smile. "Let me look at the paper." He did so. "Yes, it seems the same kind of thing as before. Well," handing it back, "send it to Mr. Parkinson, and tell him to look to it; and, at all events, take care that poor old Joller conies to no trouble by the business. How 's the old wife, Jacob?" " She 's dreadful bad with rheumatism. Sir; but the stuff that Madam sends her does her a woundy deal of good, Sir, in her in- side." "Well, we must try if we can't send you some more; and, harkee , if the goodwife doesn't get belter soon , send us up word to the Hall, and we 'II have the doctor call on her. Now, Kate, let us away homeward." And they were soon out of sight. I do not intend to deal so unceremoniously orsummarilyasMr. Aubrey did , with the document which had been brought to his notice by Jolter, then handed over to Waters, and by him, accord- ing to orders, transmitted the next day to Mr. Parkinson, 3Ir. Aubrey's attorney. It was what is called a "Declaration ik Ejectment ; " touching which , in order to throw a ray or two of light upon a document which will make no small figure in this history, I shall try to give the reader a little information on the point; and hope that a little attention to what now follows, will be repaid in due time. Here beginneth a little lecture on law. li Joties dd'iiu a debt , or goods, or dafnages irom S/nilh, one should think that, if he went to law, the action would be entitled "Jones i'e?'j?/4 Smith;" and so it is. But behold, ifitbcLAND which is claimed by Jones from Smith, the style and name of the cause stand thus : — "Doe, on the demise of Jones, versus Roe." Instead, therefore, of Jones and Smith fighting out the matler in their own proper names, they set up a couple of puppets, (called 257 "John Doe" and "Richard Roe,") who fall upon one another ia a very quaint fashion, after the manner of Punch and Judy. John Doc pretends to be the real plainlilT, and Richard Roe the real de- fendant. John Doe says that the land which Richard Roe has, is his, ((he said John Doe's,) hccaiisc Jones (the real piainlin") gave him a lease of it; and Jofics is then called "the lessor of the plaintiff." John Doe further says that one Richard Roe, (who calls himself by the very significant and expressive name of a ''Casual Ejector,") came and turned him out, and so John Doe brings his action against Richard Roe. 'T is a fact, that whenever land is sought to be recovered in England, this anomalous and farcical proceeding must be adopted.* It is the duty of the rea/ plaintiff * So much curiosity has been excited amongst lay readers in this country and In America, and also among professional persons in France and Germany, as to the real nature of the species of action mentioned in the text, that the aullior is induced here to give some further account of a matter which enters so considerably into the construction of this slory. TheactionofEjeclment is described with minuteaccuracy in the text; has been in existence for at least five hundred years , ('. e. since the close of Edward II., or beginning of Edward IIL, A. D.1327;) and its venerable but tortuous fiction has been scarcely even touched by the "amending hand," which lately (1834) cut away so many cumbrous, complicaied, and quusi obsolete portions of the law of action, (sec Slat. 3 and 4 Will. 4, c. 27, 5 36.) The progress of this action is calculated to throw much bglit on some of our early history and jurisprudence. See an interesting sketch of it in the first chapter of Mr. Sergeant Adams' Treatise on Ejcclmenl. It was resorted to for the purpose of escaping from the other dilatory, intricate, and expensive modes of recovering landed property anciently in existence. The following is the description given of it by Lord Mans- field — and is equally terse and correct, and api)licable to the present mode of procedure. "An Ejkctmknt is an ingenious y?<^i"n for the Trial of Titles to the possession of Land, \nfoim it is a trick between two, to dispossess a third by a sham suit and judgment. The arlifico would be criminal, unless the Court converted it into a fair trial with the proper party. The control the Court have over the judgment against the Casual Ejector, enables them to put any terms upon the piainliff which are Ji/.it. He was soon ordered to give notice lo Ihe tenu/it in possession. When the tenant in possession "sked lo be adniilled defen- dant, the Court was enabled to add Conditions; and therefore obliged him to allow the fiction, and go to Trial on the rfw/ //ktj/j." — (Fair Clitim V. ahum Tille ,-\ 3 Burr. 1294.) This action is now, in effect, the + These fantastical names are now almost invariably abandoned for those of "John Doe" and '• Hichard Hoe." Ten Thousand a-Year. I. 17 258 (Jones) to serve on the rea/ defendant (Smith) a copy of the queer document which I shall proceed to lay before the reader , and also to append to it an affectionate note, intimating the serious conse- quences which will ensue upon inattention or contumacy. The "Declaration," then, which had been served upon old Jolter, was in the words, letters, and figures following — that is to say: — ■ "In the King's Bench. "Michaelmas Term, the — of King — ." "Yorkshire, to-wit — Richard Roe was attached to answer John Doe of a plea wherefore the said Richard Roe , with force and arms, &c,, entered into two messuages, two dwelling-houses, two cottages, two stables, two out-houses, two yards, two gar- dens, two orchards, twenty acres of land covered with water, twenty acres of arable land, twenty acres of pasture land, and twenty acres of other land, with the appurtenances, situated in Yatton, in the county of York, which Tittlebat Titmouse, Esquire , had demised to the said John Doe for a term which is not yet expired, and ejected him from his said farm, and other wrongs to the said John Doe there did, to the great damage of the said John Doe, and against the peace of our Lord th€ King, etc. : and There- upon the said John Doe, by Oily Gammon, his attorney, com- plains, — "That whereas the said Tittlebat Titmouse, on the — th day of August, in the year of our Lord 18— , at Yatlon aforesaid, in the county aforesaid , had demised the same tenements, with the appurtenances , to the said John Doe , to have and to hold the same to the said John Doe and his assigns thenceforth, for and du- ring, and unto the full end and term of twenty years thence next ensuing, and fully to be completed and ended : By virtue of which said demise, the said John Doe entered into the said tenements, only direct common-law remedy for the recovery of land in England and Ireland; in many of the United States nf America, the artion of Ejectment is retained — "with its harmless, and — as mailer of hislory — curious and anmsing En-lish fictions." — [iKenVs Comment, p. 70, note e •; hut in New York, the action of Ejectment is "stripped of all its fictitious parts." — {Id. ib.) 259 Willi the appurtenances, and became and was thereof possessed lor the said term, so to him thereof granted as aforesaid. And the said John Doe being so thereof possessed, llie said Richard Roe afterwards, to-wit, on the day and year aforesaid, at the parish aforesaid, in the county aforesaid, with force and arms, that is to say with swords, slaves, and knives, d-c, entered into the said tenements, with the appurtenances, wliich the said Tittlebat Titmouse had demised to the said John Doe in man- ner and for the term aforesaid, which is not yet expired, and ejected the said John Doe out of his said farm; and other wrongs to the said John Doe then and liiere did , to the great damage of the said John Doe, and against liie peace of our said Lord the now King. Wherefore the said John Doe sailh that he is injured , and hath sustained damage to the value offoO, and therefore he brings his suit, dt'c. "Squeal, for the Plaintiff. | Pledges of ) John Den. Growl, for the Defendant. \ Prosecution, j Richard I'enn. "3Ir. Jacob Jolter, "I am informed that you are in possession of, or claim title to, the premises in this Declaration of Ejcclmcnt mcnlioued, or to some part thereof: And I , being sued in this action as a casual ejector only, and having no claim or title to the same , do advise you to appear, next Hilary term , in His Majesty's Court of King's Bench at Westminster , by some attorney of that Court ; and then and there, by a rule to be made of the same Court, to cause your- self to be made defendant in my stead; otherwise, I shall sutler judgment to be entered against me by default, and you will be turned out of possession. "Your loving friend, Richard Roe. " Dated this 8lh day of December 18—." * You may regard the above document in the light of a deadly and destructive missile, thrown by an unperceived enemy into a pcace- ♦ BlncJcstone't Commentiiries , vol. Hi. .^PI>- PP- '^- "• 17* 260 ful citadel; attracting no particular notice from the innocent un- suspecting inhabitants — amongst whom, nevertheless, It pre- sently explodes, and all is terror, death, and ruin. Mr. Parkinson, Mr. Aubrey's solicitor, who resided atGriistonj the post-town nearest to Yatton , from w hich it was distant about six or seven miles , was silling on the evening of Tuesday the 28th December 18 — , in his office, nearly finishing a letter to his Lon- don agents, Messrs. Runninglon and Company — one of the most eminent firms in the profession — and which he was desFrous of dispatching by that night's mail. Amongst other papers which have come into my hands in connexion with this history, I have happened to light on the letter which he was writing ; and as it is not long, and affords a specimen of the way in which business is carried on between town and country attorneys and solicitors, here followeth a copy of it : — "Grilston, 28thDec. 18— . "Dear Sirs, "Re Middleton. "Have you got the marriage-settlements between these parties ready? If so, please send them as soon as possible; for both the lady's and gentleman's friends are (as usual in such cases) very pressing for them. "^ Puddinghead\. Qnicktvit. "Plaintiff bought a horse of defendant in November last, 'warranted sound,' and paid for it on the spot .£64. A week afterwards, his attention was accidentally drawn to the animal's head; and to his infinite surprise , he discovered that the left eye was a glass eye, so closely resembling the other in colour, that the difference could not be discovered except on a very close examination. I have seen it myself, and it is indeed wonderfully well done. My countrymen are certainly pretty sharp hands in such matters — but this beats every thing I ever heard of. Surely this is a breach of the warranty? Or is it to be considered a patent defect, which would not be wijhin the warranty?* — Please take * "A warranty will not extend to guard against defects which are plainly and obviously ihe object of one's senses: as if a horse be war- ranted perfect, and wants either a tail, or an ear; unless the buyer in this case, be blind." — 3 Uluckst. Comm. 166. 261 pleader's opinion, and particularly as to whether the horse could be brought into court to be viewed by the court and jury, which would have a great effect. If your pleader thinks the action will lie, let him draw declaration, venue — Lancashire (for rny client would have no chance with a Yorkshire jury,) if juu think the venue is transitory, and that defendant would not be successful on a motion to change it, Qu. — Is the man who sold the horse to defendant a co//(/;e/e/ic-iwo , when a sharp tapping at the bow-window overhead startled him for a moment, interrupting his warlike demonstrations; and, on casting up his eyes, he beheld the threatening figure of his master, who was shaking his whip at him. He dropped his guard, touched his hat very humbly, and resumed his horses bridles; muttering, however, to Titmouse, «'If thou'rta man, come down into t' yard, and I 11 mak thee think a horse kicked thee , a liar as thou art ! " "Who's thatgenllcman gone up-stairs?" enquired Titmouse of the landlady, after he had sneaked into the inn. "Squire Aubrey of Yalton ," she replied tartly. Titmouse's face, previously very pale, flushed all over. "Ay, ay," she continued sharply — " thou 7ni/st be chattering to the grand folks, and thou 'st nearly put thy foot into 't at last, I can tell thee; for that 's a magistrate, and" thou 'si been a-swearing afore him." Titmouse smiled rather faintly; and entering the parlour, alTccted to be engaged with a county newspaper; and he remained very quiet for upwards of an hour , not venturing out of the room till he had seen off Mr. Aubrey and his formidable Sam. It was the hunting season; but Mr. Aubrey, though he had as fine horses as were to be found in the county, and xvhich were always at the service of his friends, partly from want of inclina- tion, and partly from the delicacy of his constitution, never shared in the sports of the field. Now and then, however, he rode to cover, to see the hounds throw ofl", and exchange greet- 270 ings with a great number of his friends and neighbours, on such occasions collected together. This he did, the morning after that on which he had ^isitod Grilston, accompanied, at their earnest entrealy, by Mrs. Aubrey and Kate. lam not painting angels, but describing frail human nature ; and truth forces me to say, that Kate had a kind of a notion that on such occasions she did not appear to disadvantage. I protest I love her not the less for it ! Is there a beautiful woman under the sun who is not really aware of her charms, and of the effect they produce upon our sex? Pooh! I never will believe to the contrary. In Kate's composition this ingredient was but an imperceptible alloy in virgin gold. Now, how was it that she came to think of this hunting appointment? I do not exactly know; but I recollect that when Lord De la Zouch last called at Yatton, he happened to mention it at lunch, and to say that he and one Geoffry Lovel Dclamere — but however that may be, behold, on a bright Thursday morning, Aubrey and his two lovely com- panions made their welcome appearance at the field, superbly mounted, and most cordially greeted by all present. Miss Aubrey attracted universal admiration; but there was one hand- some youngster , his well-formed figure showing to great advan- tage in his new pink and leathers, who made a point of challen- ging her special notice, and in doing so, attracting that of all his envious fellow-sportsmen ; and that was Delamere. Beseemed, indeed, infinitely more taken up with the little party from Yat- ton than with the serious business of the day. His horse, how- ever, had an eye to business; and with erect ears, catching the first welcome signal sooner than the gallant person who sate upon it, sprang off like lightning, and would have left its ab- stracted rider behind, had he not been a first-rate 'seat.' la fact. Kale herself was not quite sufficiently on her guard; and her eager filly suddenly put in requisition all her rider's little strength and skill to rein her in — which having done, Kate's eye looked rather anxiously after her late companion , who , how- ever, had already cleared the first hedge, and was fast making up to the scattering scarlet crowd. Oh, the bright exhilarating scene ! 271 "Heigh ho — Agnes! " said Kale, with a slight sigh, as soon as Delamere had disappeared — "I was very nearly off." "So was soniebudy else, Kate!" said Mrs. Aubrey, with a sly smile. "This is a very cool contrivance of yours, Kate, — bringing us here this niurnidg," said her brother, rather gravely. "What do yi)U mean, Charles?" she enquired, slightly red- dening. He good-naturedly tapped her shoulder with his whip, laughed, urged his horse into a canter, and they were all soon on their way to General Grim's, an old friend of the late Mr. Aubrey's. The party assembled on Xew-Ycar's Eve at Folheringhain Castle, the magnilicent residence of Lord De la Zouch , was numerous and brilliant. The Aubreys arrived about five o'clock ; and on emerging from their respective apartments into the drawing-room, soon after the welcome sound of the diimer bell — Mr. Aubrey leading in his lovely wife, followed shortly after- wards by his beautiful sister — they attracted general attention. He himself looked handsome , for the brisk country air had brought out a glow upon his loo frequently pallid countenance — pallid with the un\>holesome atmosphere, the late hours, the wasting excitement of the House of Commons; and his smile was cheerful, his eye bright and penetrating. Nothing makes such quick triumphant way in English society, as the promise of speedy political distinction. It will supply to its happy pos- sessor the want of family and fortune - it rapidly melts away all distinctions. The obscure but eloquent commoner finds himself suddenly standing in the rarefied atmosphere of pri\ilgc and exclusiveness — the familiar eijual , often the conscious superior, of the haughtiest peer of the realm. A single success- ful speech in the House of Commons, opens before its utterer the shining doors of fashion and greatness, as if by magic. It is as it were Power stepping into its palace, welcomed by gay crowds of eager obsequious expectants. "NVho would not press forward to grasp in anvious welcome the hand which, in a few short years, may dispense the glittering baubles sighed after by the great , and the more substantial patronage of office — which 272 may point public opinion in any direction? But, to go no further, what if to all this be added a previous position in society, such as that occupied by Mr. Aubrey ! There were several very fine women, married and single, in that splendid drawing-rom; but there were two girls, in very different styles of beauty, who were soon allowed by all present to carry off the palm between ihem — I mean Miss Aubrey and Lady Caroline Caversham, the only daughter of the Marchioness of Redborough , both of whom were on a visit at the castle of some duration. Lady Caroline and Miss Aubrey were of about the same age, and dressed almost exactly alike, viz. in while satin; only Lady Caroline wore a brilliant diamond necklace , whereas Kate had chosen to wear not a single ornament. Lady Caroline was a triGe the taller, and had a very stalely carriage. Her hair was black as jet — her features were refined and delicate; but ihey wore a very cold, haughty expression. After a glance at her half-closed eyes, and the swan-like curve of her snowy neck, you unconciously withdrew from her, as from an inaccessible beauty. The more you looked at her, the more she satisfied your critical scrutiny; but ^our feeli/igs went not out towards her — thcywere, in a manner, chilled and repulsed. Look, now, at our own Kale Aubrey — nay, never fear to place her beside yon supercilious divinity — look at her, and your /(ea?V acknowledges her loveliness; your soul thrills at sight of her bewitching blue eyes — eyes now sparkling with cxcilemenf, then languishing with soflness, in accordance with the varying emotions of a sensitive nature — a most susceptible heart. How her sunny curls harmonize wiih the delicacy and richness of her complexion! Her figure, observe, is, oflhetwo, a trifle fuller than her rival's — slay, don't let your admiring eyes settle so intently upon her budding form , or you will confuse Kate — turn away, or she will shrink from you like ihe sensitive plant! Lady Caroline seems the exquisite but frigid production of a skilful statuary, who had caught a di\inity in the very act of disdainfully setting her foot for the first lime upon this poor earth of ours; but Kale is a living and breathing beauty — as it were , fresh from the hand of God himself! 273 Kate ■was very affectionately greeted by Lady De la Zouch, a lofty and dignified woman of about fifty; so also by Lord De la Zouch; but when young Delaniere welcomed her with a jialpable embarrassment of manner, a n)ore brilliant colour stole into her cheek, and a keen observer might have noticed a little, rapid, undulating motion in her bosom, vvliich told of some inward emotion. And a keen obser\er Kate at that moment had in her beautiful rival; from whose cheek, as that of Kate deepened ia its roseate bloom, faded away the colour entirely, leaving it the hue of the lily. Her drooping eyelids could scarcely conceal the glances of alarm and anger which she darted at her plainly suc- cessful rival in the affections of the future Lord De la Zouch. Kate was quickly aware of this slate of matters ; and it required no little self-control to appear ?/«aware of it, Delamere took her down to dinner, and seated himself beside her, and paid her such pointed attentions as at length really distressed her; and she was quite relieved when the time came for the ladies to withdraw. That she had not a secret yearning towards Delamere , the frequent com- panion of her early days, I cannot assert, because I know it would be contrary to the fact. Circumstances had kept him on the Con- tinent for more than a year between the periwlof his quilting Etoa and goi/ig to Oxford, where another twelvemonth had slipped away without his \isitingYorkshire : thus two years had elapsed — and behold Kate had become a woman and he a man! They had mutujil predispositions to\\ards each other, and 't was mere acci- dent which of them first manifested symptoms of fondness for the other — the same result must have followed, namely, (to use a great word,) reciprocation. Lord and Lady De la Zouch idolized their son, and were old and very firm friends of the Aubrey family ; and, if Delamere really formed an attachment to one of Miss Aubrey's beauty, accomplishments, talent, amiability, and ancient family — why should he not be gratified? Kale, whether she would or not, was set down to the ftiano, Lady Caroline accon)panying her on the harp — on which she usually performed with mingled skill and grace; but on the present occasion, both the fair perfor- mers found faullwiili their instruments — then with themselves — and presently gave up the attempt indcspair. But when, at a later 2'en Thou mild a-Ytitr I, 18 274 period of ihe evening, Kate's spirits had been a little exhilarated with dancing, and she sat down, at Lord De la Zouch's request, and gave that exquisite song from the Tempest — "Where the bee sucks" — all the witchery of her voice and manner had returned: and as for Delamere, he would have given the world to marry her that minute, and so for ever extinguish the hopes of — as he imagined — two or three nascent competitors for the beautiful prize then present. That Kate was good as beautiful, the following little incident, which happened to her on the ensuing evening, will show. There was a girl in the village at Yalton, about sixteen or seventeen years old, called Phoebe Williams ; a very pretty girl, and who had spent about two years at the Hall as a laundry-maid, but had been obliged, some few months before the time I am speaking of, to return to her parents in the village, ill of a decline. She had beea a sweet-tempered girl in her situation, and all her fellow-servants felt great interest in her , as also did Miss Aubrey. Mrs. Aubrey sent her dailyjellies, sago, and other such matters, suitable for the poor girl's condition ; and about a quarter of an hour after her return from Fotheringham, Miss Aubrey, finding one of the female servants about to set off with some of the above-mentioned articles, and hearing that poor Phoebe was getting rapidly worse, instead of retiring to her room to undress, slipped on an additional shawl, and resolved to accompany the servant to the village. She said not a word to either her mother, her sister-in-law, or her brother; but simply left word with her maid whither she was going, and that she should quickly return. It was snowing smartly when Kate setoff; but she cared not, hurried on by the impulse of kindness, which led her to pay perhaps a last visit to the humble sufferer. She walked alongside of the elderly female servant, asking her a number of questions about Phoebe, and her sorrowing father and mother. It was nearly dark as they quitted the Park gates, and snowing, if any thing, faster than when they had left the Hall. Kate, wrapping her shawl still closer round her slender figure, her face being pretty well protected by her veil, hurried on , and they soon reached Williams' cottage. Its humble tenants were, as may be imagined, not a little surprised at her apperance at such an 275 hour and in such inclement weather, and so apparently unat- tended. Poor Phoebe, worn to a shadow, was sitting opposite the fire, in a little wooden arm-chair, and propped up by a pillow. She trembled, and her lips moved on seeing Miss Aubrey, who, silting down on a stool beside her, after laying aside her snow- Vihilened shawl and bonnet, spoke to her in the most gentle and soothing strain imaginable. What a contrast in their two ligiires ! 'T would have been no violent stretch of imagination to say, that Catherine Aubrey at that moment looked like a ministering angel sent to comfort the wretched sufferer in her extremity. Phoebe's father and mother stood on each side of the litlle fireplace , gazing with tearful eyes upon their only child , soon about to depart from them for ever. The poor girl was indeed a touching object. She had been very pretty, but now her face was while and wofully emaciated — the dread impress of consumption was upon it. Her wasted fingers were clasped together on her lap , holding between them a litlle handkerchief, with which, evidently with great effort, she occasionally wiped the dampness from her face. "You 're very good, Ma'am," she whispered, " to come to see mc, and so late. They say it 's a sad cold night." "I heard, Phcebe, that you were not so well, and 1 thought I would just step along with Margaret, who has brought you some more jelly. Did you like the last?" "Y-e-s, Ma'am," she replied hesitatingly; "but it 's vcrij hard for mc to swallow any thing no%v, my throat feels so sore." Here her mother sho'ok her head and looked aside ; for Ihe doctor had only that morning explained to her the nalure of the distress- ing symptom to which her daughler was alluding — as evidencing the very last stage of her fatal disorder. "I 'm \cry sorry to hear you say so, Phoebe," replied Miss Aubrey. " Do you think there 's any thing else that Mrs. Jackson could make for you?" "No, Ma'am, thank you; I feel it's no use trying to swallow anything more," said jtoor Phd'bc, faintly. "While there 's life ," whispered Miss Aubrey, in a subdued, hesitating tone, "there 's hope — /Ae^/ 5«(/." Pha-bc shook her head mournfully. 18* 276 "Don't stop long, dear lady — it 's getting very lafe for you to be out alone. Father will go" — "Never mind me, Phcebe — I can take care of myself. I hope you mind what good Dr. Talham says to you? You know this sickness is from God, Phoebe. He knows what is best for his creatures." "Thank God, Ma'am, I think I feel resigned. I know it is God's will; but I 'm very sorry for poor falher and mother — they'll be so lone like when they don't see Phcebe about." Her father gazed inlenlly at her, and the tears ran trickling down his cheeks; her mother put her apron before her face, andshookher head in silent anguish. Miss Aubrey did not speak for a few moments. " I see you have been reading the prayer-book mamma gave you when you were at the Hall," said she at length, observing the little volume lying open on Phoebe's lap. "Yes, Ma'am — I was trijing; but somehow lately, I can't read, for there's a kind of mist comes over my eyes, and I can't see.'' "That 's weakness, Phcebe," said Miss Aubrey, quickly but tremulously. "May I make bold, Ma'am," commenced Phoebe languidly, after a hesitating pause , " lo ask you to read the lillle psalm I was trying lo read a while ago? I should so like to hear you." "I '11 try, Phoebe," said Miss Aubrey, taking the book, which was open at the sixth psalm. 'T was a severe trial , for her feelings were not a litllc excited already. But how could she refuse the dying girl? So Miss Aubry began , a lillle indistinctly , in a very low tone, and with frequent pauses; for the tears every now and then quite obscured her sight. She managed, however, to get as far as the sixth verse, which was thus: — "/ am tvenrij of viy groit)ii/ig: every night wash I my bed, and water my couch with tears: My beauty is gone fur very trouble." Here Kate's face suddenly slopped. She buried her face for a moment or two in licr handkcrcliief, and said hastily, "I can't read any more, Plicrbe!" Esery one in the little room was in tears except poor Phcebe , who seemed past that. 277 •'II 's lime for me logo, now, Phoebe. We 'II send some one early in the morning to know how jou are," said Miss Aubrey, risinj,' and pulling on her bonnet and shawl. She contrived to beckon Pha'be's mother to the back of the room, and silently slipped a couple of guineas into her hands; for she knew the mournful occasion there would soon be for such assistance! She then left , peremptorily declining the attendance of Phoebe's father — saying that it must be dark when she could not hnd the way to the Hall, which was almost in a straight line from the cottage, and little more than a quarter of a mile oil". It was very much darker, and it still snowed , though not so thickly as when she had come. She and Margaret walked side by side, at a quick pace, talking together about poor Phoebe. Just as she was approaching the t\- tremily of the village, nearest the park — "Ah! my lovely gals!" exclaimed a voice, in a low but most offensive tone — "alone? How uncommon" — Miss Aubrey for a moment seemed thunderstruck at so sudden and unprecedented an occurrence: then she hurried on with a beating heart, whis- pering to Margaret to keep close to her, and not to be alarmed. The speaker, however, kept pace with them. "Lovely gals! — wish I'd an umbrella, my angels! —Take ray arm? Ah! Pretty gals!" "\>'ho are you, Sir?" at length exclaimed Kate spiritedly, suddenly stopping, and turning to the rude speaker. [Who else should it be but Tittlebat Titmouse !) "Who am I? Ah , ha , Lovely gals ! one that loves the pretty gals ! " "Do you know, fellow, who I am?" enquired Miss Aubrey indignantly, flinging aside her veil, and disclosing her beautilul face, while as death, but indistinclly visible in the darkness, to her insolent assailant. "No, 'pon my soul, no; but lovely gal! lovely gal! — 'pon my life, spirited gal ! — do you no harm! Take my arm?" — "Wretch! rullian! How dare you insult a lady in ihis manner? Do you know who I am? My name, Sir, is Aubrey — I am Miss Aubrey of the Hall ! Do not think " — Titmouse felt as if he were on the point of dropping down dead at that moment, with amazement and terror; and when Miss 278 Aubrey's servant screamed out at the top of her voice , " Help ! — help, there! " Titmouse, without uttering a syllable more, took to his heels, just as the door of a cottage, at only a few yards' distance , opened , and out rushed a strapping farmer , shouting — "Hey! what be t' matter?" You may guess his amazement on discovering Miss Aubrey, and his fury at learning the cause of her alarm. Out of doors he pelted, without his hat, uttering a volley of fearful imprecations, and calling on the unseen miscreant to come forward; for whom it was lucky that he had time to escape from a pair of flsts that in a minute or two would have beaten his little carcass into a jelly! Miss Aubrey was so overcome by the shock she had suffered, that but for a glass of water she might have fainted. As soon as she had a little recovered from her agita- tion, she set off home, accompanied by Margaret, and followed very closely by the farmer, with a tremendous knotted stick under his arm — (he wanted to have taken his double-barrelled gun) — and thus she soon reached the Hail , not a little tired and agitated. This little incident, however, she kept to herself, and enjoined her two attendants to do the same; for she knew the distress it would have occasioned those whom she loved. As it was she was somewhat sharply rebuked by her mother and brother, who had just sent two servants out in quest of her, and whom it was sin- gular that she should have missed. This is not the place to give an account of the eccentric movements of our friend Titmouse; still there can be no harm in my just mentioning that the sight of Miss Aubrey on horseback had half maddened the little fool ; her image had never been effaced from his memory since the occasion on which, as already explained, he had first seen her; and as soon as he had ascertained, through Snaps enquiries, who she was, he became more frenzied in the matter than before, because he thought he now saw a probability of obtaining her. "If, like children," says Edmund Burke, "we will cry for the moon, why, like children , we must — crij on." Whether this was not some- thing like the position of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse, in his passion for Catherine Aubrey, the reader can judge. He had un- bosomed himself in the matter to his confidential adviser Mr. Snap; who, having accomplished his errand, had the day before 279 returned to town, very much against his will, lca\ing Titmouse behind, to bring about, by his own dcncale and skillul manage- ment, an union between himself, as the future Lord of Yatton, and the beautiful sister of its present occupant. CHAPTER IX. Mk. Aubrey and Kate, some day or two after the strange occurrence narrated iu the last chapter, were silting together playing at chess, about eight o'clock in the evening; Dr. Tatham and Mrs. Aubrey, junior, looking on with much interest; old Mrs. Aubrey being engaged in writing. Mr. Aubrey was sadly an overmatch for poor Kate — he being in fact a first-rate player; and her soft white hand had been hovering over the three or four chessmen she had left, uncertain which of them to move, for nearly two minutes, her chin resting on the other hand, and her face wearing a \cry puzzled expression. "Come, Kate," said every now and then her brother, with that calm victorious smile which at such a moment would have tried any but so sweet a temper as his sister's. "If /were you. Miss Aubrey," was per- petually exclaiming Dr. Tatham, knowing as much about the game the while as the little Blenheim spaniel lying asleep at Miss Aubrey's feet. "Oh dear!" said Kate at length, with a sigh, "I really don't see how to escape" — "Who can that be?" exclaimed Mrs. Aubrey, lookingupand listening to the sound of carriage wheels. "Never mind," said herhusband, who was interested in the game — "come, come, Kate." A few minutes afterwards a ser- vant made his appearance, and coming up to Ulr. Aubrey, (old him that Mr. Parkinson and another gentleman had called, and were waiting in the library to speak to him on business. "What can they want at this hour?" exclaimed Mr. Aubrey absently, intently watching an anticipated move of his sister's, which would have decided the game in his favour. At length she made her long-meditated descent— but in quite an unexpected quarter. "Checkmate I'' she exclaimed with iulinilc glee. 280 "Ah!" cried he, rising with a slightly surprised and cha- grined air, "I'm ruined! Now, try your hand on Dr. Tatham, vA\i\e I go and speak to these people. I wonder what can possibly have brought them here. Oh , I see — I see; 't is probably about r.jiss Evelyn's marriage-settlement — I 'm !o be one of her trus- tees." With this he left the room, and presently entered the library, \>here were two gentlemen, one of whom, a stranger, was in the act of pulling off his great-coat.. It was IWr. Runnington ; a tall, thin, elderly man, with short grey hair — of gentlemanly appearance — his countenance bespeaking the calm, acute, clear- headed man of business. The other was Mr. Parkinson ; a tho- roughly respectable, substantial-looking, hard-headed family solicitor and country attorney. "Mr. Runnington, my London agent. Sir," said he to Mr. Aubrey, as the latter entered. Mr. Aubrey bowed. "Pray, gentlemen, be seated," he replied with his usual urbanity of manner, taking a chair beside them. "Why, Mr. Parkinson, you look very serious — bothofjou. What is the matter?" he enquired surprisedly. "Mr. Runnington, Sir, has arrived, most unexpectedly to me," replied Mr, Parkinson, "only an hour or two ago, from London , on business of the last importance to you." "Tome! — well, what is it? Pray, say at once what it is — I am all attention ," said Mr. Aubrey anxiously. "Do you happen," commenced ]Mr. Parkinson very nervously, "to remember sending Waters to me on Monday or Tuesday last, with a paper which had been served by some one on old Joiter?" "Certainly," replied Mr. Aubrey, after a moment's consi- deration, "Mr. Runnington's errand is connected with that document," said Mr. Parkinson, and paused. "Indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, apparently a little re- lieved. "I assure you, gentlemen, you very greatly over-estimate the importance I attach to any thing that such a troublesome per- son as Mr. Tomkins can do, if I am right in supposing that it is he who — Well, then, what is the matter?" he enquired quickly, observing Mr. Parkinson shake his head, and inter- 281 change a grave look with Mr. Runnington; "you cannot think, Mr, Parkinson , how you will oblige nie by being explicit." "This paper," said iMr. Runnington, holding up that wiiich Mr. Aubrey at once identilied as the one on which he had cast his eye upon its being handed to hiui by Waters, " is a Declaration ia Kjectment, with which Mr. Tomkins has nothing whatever to do. It is served >irtually on you, and you are the real defendant." "So I apprehend that I was in the iornier trumpery action! " repied Mr. Aubrey , smiling. "Do you recollect, Sir," said Mr. Parkinson , with a trepida- tion which he could not conceal, "se\eral years ago, some serious conversation which you and I had togetiier on the stale of your title — when I was preparing your marriagc-seltlenicnts?" Mr. Aubrey started , and his face was suddenly blanched. "The matters which we then discussed have suddenly ac- quired fearful iniportance. This paper occasions us, on your ac- count, the proi'oundest anxiety." Mr. Aubrey continued silent, gazing on Mr. Parkinson with intensity. "Supposing, from a hasty glance alit, and from the message accoiniianying it , that it vas merely another action ofTomkins's about the slip of waste land attached to Joller's cottage, I sent up to London to my agents, Messrs. Runnington, requesting them to call on the plaintilT's attorneys, and settle the action. -He did so; and — perhaps you will explain the rest," said Mr. Parkinson, with visible trepidation, to Mr, Runnington. "Certainly," said tliat gentleman with a serious air, but much more calmly and lirmly than Mr. Parkins^on had spoken ; "I called accordingly, early yesterday morning, on Messrs. Quirk, Gammon , and Snap — they are a very well — but not enviably — known lirm in the profession; and in a few minutes my miscon- ception of the nature of the business which I had called to arrange, was set right. In short" — he paused , as if distressed at the in- telligence which he was about to communicate. "Oh, pray, pray go on. Sir!" said Mr. Aubrey in a low tone. "I am no stranger, Sir, (o your lirmncss of character; bull shall have to tax it, 1 fear, to its uttermost. To come at once to the point — they told me that I might undoubtedly settle the mat- 282 ter, if you would consent to give up immediate possession of Me whole Yatton estate, and account for the mesne proflts to tiieir client, the right heir — as they contend — a Mr. Tittlebat Tit- mouse." Mr. Aubrey leaned back in his chair, overcome, for an instant, by this astounding intelligence; and all three of them preserved silence for more than a minute. Mr. Runnington wasa man of a very feeling heart. In the course of his great practice he had had to encounter many distressing scenes; but probably none of them had equalled that in which , at the earnest entreaty of Mr. Parkinson , who distrusted his own self-possession , he now bore a leading part. The two attorneys interchanged frequent looks of deep sympathy for their unfortunate client, who seemed as if stunned by the intelligence they had brought him. "I felt it my duty to lose not an instant in coming down to Yatton," resumed Mr. Runniugtou , observing Mr. Aubrey's eye again directed enquiringly towards him; "for Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap are very dangerous people to deal with, and must be encountered promptly, and with the greatest possible caution. The moment that I had left them, I hastened to the Temple, to retain for you Mr. Subtle, the leader of the Northern Circuit; but they had been beforehand with me, and retained him nearly three months ago, together with another eminent king's counsel on the circuit. Under these circumstances , I lost no time in giving a special retainer to the Attorney-General, in which I trust I have done right, and in retaining as junior a gen- tleman whom I consider to be incomparably the ablest and most experienced lawyer on the circuit." "Did they say any thing concerning the nature of their client's tile?" enquired Mr. Aubrey, after some expressions of amaze- ment and dismay. ' ' Very little — I might say , nothing. If they had been never so precise, of course I should have distrusted every word they said. They certainly mentioned that they had had the first con- veyancing opinions in the kingdom, which concurred in favour of their client; that they had been for months prepared at all points, and accident only had delayed their commencing proceedings till now." 283 "Did you make any eaquines as to who the claiment was?" enquired Mr. Aubrey. "Yes; but all I could learn was, that they had discovered hini by mere accident; and that he was at present in very obscure and distressed circumstances. 1 tried to discover by what means they proposed to commence and carry on so expensive a contest; but they smiled si^'nilicantly , and were siletit." Another long pause ensued, during which Mr. Aubrey was evideully silently strug- gling with very agitating emotions. "What is the meaning of their affecting to seek the recovery of only one insignilicant portion of the property?" he enquired. "it is their own choice — it may be from considerations of mere convenience. The title, however, by which they may suc- ceed in obtaining what they at present go for, will avail to recover every acre of the estate, and the present action will consequently decide everything!" "And suppose the worst— that they are successful," said Mr. Aubrey, after they had conversed a good deal, and very anxiously, on the subject ofa presumed inlirmity in Mr. Aubrey's title, which had been pointed out to him in general terms by Mr. Parkinson, on the occasion already .idverted to — "what is to be said about the rental which I have been recei\ing all this time — ten thousand a-year?" enquired Mr. Aubrey, looking as if he dreaded to hear his question answered. "Oh! that 's quite an after consideration — let us first fight the battle," said Mr. Runninglon. "I beg. Sir, that you will withhold nothing from me," said Mr. Aubrey. "To what extent shall i be liable?" Mr. Runninglon paused. "1 am afraid that all the mesne profits, as they arc called, which you base received" — commenced Mr. Parkinson — "No, no," interrupted Mr. Runninglon; " I have been lurn- ing that matter over in my mind, and I ihink that the statute of limitations will bar all but the last six years" — "Why, l/iat will be sixty thousand pounds!" interrupted Mr. Aubrey, with a look of sudden despair. "Gracious Ueavens, that is perfectly frighful! — frightful! If 1 lose Yatlon , I shall 284 not have a place to put my head ia — not one farthing to sup- port myself with! And yet to have to make up sixty thousand pounds!" The perspiration bedewed his forehead, and his eye was laden with alarm and agony. He slowly rose from his chair and boiled the door, that they might not, at such an agitating moment, be surprised or disturbed by any of the servants or the - family. "I suppose," said he in a faint and tremulous tone, "that if this claim succeed , my mother also will share my fate " — They shook their heads in silence. "Permit me to suggest," said Mr. Runnington, in a tone of the most respectful sympathy, "that sufScient for the day is the evil thereof." "But the NIGHT follows!" said Mr. Aubrey, with a visible tremor; and his voice made the hearts of his companions thrill within them. "1 have a fearful misgiving as to the issue of these proceedings! I ought not to have neglected the matter pointed out to me by Mr. Parkinson on my marriage! I feel as if I had been culpably lying by ever since ! — But I really did not attach to it the importance it deserved: I never, indeed, distinctly appreciated the nature of w hat was then mentioned to me ! " "A thousand pities that s, fine was not levied, is it not?" said Sir. Runnington , turning with a sigh to Mr. Parkinson. "Ay, indeed it is!" replied that gentleman — and they spoke together for some lime, and very earnestly, concerning the na- ture and efficacy of such a measure, which they explained to Mr. Aubrey. " It comes to this ," said he , " that in all probability , I and my family are at this moment" — he shuddered — "trespassers atYalton!" "That, Mr. Aubrey," said Mr. Parkinson, earnestly, "re- mains to be proved ! We really are getting on far too fast. A person who heard us might suppose that the jury had already re- turned a verdict against us — that judgment had been signed — and that the sheriff was coming in the morning to execute the writ of possession in favour of our opponent." This was well meant by the speaker ; but surely it was like talking of the machinery of the 285 ghastly guillotine to tlie wretch in shivering expectation of suffering by it on the morrow. An involuntary shudder ran througli Mr. Aubrey. "Sixty thousand pounds!" he exclaimed, rising and walking to and fro. "Why, I am ruined beyond all redempiion ! How can 1 ever satisfy it?" Agaio he paced the room several times, in silent agony. Presently he resumed his seat. "Ihave,' for these several days past, had a strange sense of impending ca- lamity," said he, more calmly — "I have been equally unable to account for, or get rid of it. It may be an intimation from Heaven; I bow to its will ! " "We must remember," said Mr. Runninglon, ''ihul 'posses- sion is iiinc-lcidhs of i lie law;' which means, that your mere possession will entitle you to retain it against all the world , till a stronger title than yours to the right of possession be made out. You stand on a mountain ; and it is for your adversary to displace you, not by showing merely that you have no real title, but that he has. If he could prove all your title-deeds to be merely waste paper — that in fact you have no more title to Yalton than I have — he would not, if he were to stop there, have advanced his own case an inch; he must //•*< establish in himself a clear and inde- pendent title; so that you are entirely on the defensive; and rely upon it, that though never so many screws may be loose , so acute and profound a lawyer as the Attorney-General will impose e\ery difiicalty on our opponents" — "Nay, but God forbid that any unconscientious advantage should be taken on my behalf! " said Mr. Aubrey. Mr. Running- ton and Mr. Parkinson both opened their eyes pretty wide at this sally; the lador could not at first understand why cvry thing should not be fair in war; the former saw and a[)piccialed the no- bility of soul which had dictated the exclamation. "I suppose the affair will soon become public," said Mr. Aubrey, with an air of profound depression, after much further conversation. "Your position in the county, your eminence in public life, the singularity of the case, and the magnitude of the btakc — all are circumstances undoubtedly calculated soon to urge the affair before the notice of the public ,'" said Mr. Runnington. 286 "What disastrous intelligence to break to my family!" ei- claimed Mr. Aubrey tremulously. '' With what fearful sudden- ness it has burst upon us! But something, Isuppose," he pre- sently added with forced calmness, "must be done immediately?" "Undoubtedly," replied Mr. Runuington, "Mr. Parkinson and I will immediately proceed to examine your title-deeds, the greater portion of which are, I understand, here in the Hall, and the rest at Mr. Parkinson's; and prepare, without delay, a case for the opinion of the Attorney-General, and also of the most eminent conveyancers of the kingdom. Who, by the way," said Mr. Runnington, addressing Mr. Parkinson — "who was the conveyancer that had the abstracts before him, on preparing Mr. Aubrey's marriage-settlement?" "Oh, you are alluding to the ^Opinion' I mentioned to you this evening?" enquired Mr. Parkinson. "I have it at my house, and will show it you in the morning. The doubt he expressed on one or two points gave me, I recollect, no little uneasiness — as 2/0?/ may remember, Mr. Aubrey." "I certainly do," he replied, with a profound sigh; "but though what you said reminded me of something as another that I had heard when a mere boy, I thought no more of it. I think you also told me that the gentleman who wrote the opinion was a ner- vous, fidgety man, always raising diflicullies in his clients' titles — and one way or another, the thing never gave meany concern — scarcely ever even occurred to my thoughts , till to-day ! What infatuation has been mine! — But you will take a little refresh- ment, gentlemen, after your journey?" said Mr. Aubrey suddenly, glad of the opportunity it would afford him of reviving his own ex- hausted spirits by a little wine, before returning to the drawing- room. He swallowed several glasses of wine without their pro- ducing any immediately perceptible effect; and the bearers of the direful intelligence just communicated to the reader, after a pro- mise by Mr, Aubrey to drive over to Grilston early in the morning, and bring with him such of his title-deeds as were then at the Hall, took their departure; leaving him outwardly calmer, but with a fearful oppression at his heart. He made a powerful effort to control his feelings, so as to conceal, for a while at least, the 287 dreadful occurrence of the evening. His countenance and con- strained manner, however, on re-entering the drawing-room, which his mother, attended by Kate, had quitted for her bed- room — somewhat alarmed Mrs. Aubrey: but he easily quieted her — poor soul ! — by saying that he certainly had been annoyed — "excessively annoyed" — at a communication just made lo him; "and whicli might, in fact, prexent his sitting again for Yatlon." "Oh, that 's the cause of your long stay? There, Doctor, am I not right?" said Mrs. Aubrey, appealing to Dr. Tatham. "Did I not tell you that this was something connected with politics? Oh, dearest Charles — I do hate politics! Give 7110 a quiet home!" A pang shot through Mr. Aubrey's heart; but he felt that he had, for the present, succeeded in his object. Mr. Aubrey's distracted mind was indeed , as it were , butTeted about that night on a dark sea of trouble ; while the beloved being beside him lay sleeping peacefully, all unconscious of the rising storm! Many times, during that dismal night, would he have risen from his bed to seek a momentary relief by walking to and fro, but that he feared disturbing her, and disclosing the extent and depth of his distress. It was nearly ii\e o'clock in the morn- ing before he at length sank into sleep; and of one thing I can assure the reader, that however that excellent man might have shrunk — and shrink he did — from the sulTerings which seemed in store, not for himself only, but for those who were far dearer to him than life itself, he did not give way to one repining or rebel- lious thought. On the contrary , his real frame of mind , on that trying occasion, may be discovered in one short prayer, which his agonized soul was more than once on the point of expressing aloud in words — "Oh my God! in my prosperity I have endea- voured always to acknowledge thee; forsake not me and mine in our adversity ! " At an early hour in the morning IMr. Aubrey's carriage drew up at Mr. Parkinson's door; and he brought with him, as he had promised, a great number of title-deeds and family documents. On these, as well as on many others which were in .Mr. Parkin- son's custody, that gentleman and Mr. Runninglon were anxiously engaged during almost every minute of that day and the ensuing 288 one; at the close of which, they had between them drawn up the rough draft of a case, with which Mr. Runnington set off for town by the mail; undertaking to lay it immediately before the Attorney- General, and also before one or two of the most eminent con- veyancers of the day, effectually commended to their best and earliest attention. He pledged himself to transmit Uieiropinions, by the very first mail, to Mr. Parkinson ; and both of those gen- tlemen immediately set about active preparations for defending the ejectment. The "eminent conveyancer" fixed upon by Messrs. Runnington and Parkinson was Mr, Tresayle, whose clerk, how- ever, on looking into the papers, presently carried them back to Messrs. Runnington, with the startling information that Mr. Tresayle had, a few months before, "advised on the other side !" The next person whom Mr. Runnington thought of, was — singu- larly enough — Mr. Mortmain, wlio, on account of his eminence, was occasionally employed, in heavy niatlers by the firm. lils clerk, also, on the ensuing morning returned the papers, as- signing a similar reason to that which had been given by Mr. Tresayle's clerk ! All this formed a direful corroboration, truly, of iVIessrs. Quirk and Gammon's assurance to Mr. Runnington, that they had "had the first conveyancing opinions in the king- dom; " and evidenced the formidable scale on which their opera- tions were being conducted. There were, liowe\er, other "emi- nent conveyancers" besides the two above mentioned : and in the hands of Mr. Mansfield, who, with a less extended reputation, but an equal practice, was a far abler man, and a much higlier style of conveyancer, than Mr. Mortmain, Mr. Runnington left his client's interests with the utmost confidence. Not satisfied with this, belaid the case also before Mr. Crystal, the junior whom he had already retained in the cause — a man whose lucid under- standing was not ill indiciited by his name. Though his manner in court was not particularly forcible or attractive, he was an inva- luable acquisition in an important cause. To law he had forsome twenty years applied himself with unwearying energy; and he consequently became a ready, accurate, and thorough lawyer, equal toall the practical exigenciesof his profession. He brought his knowledge to bear od every point presented to him, with beau- 289 liful precision. He was equally quick and cautious — artful to a degree— Dull shall have other opporlunities of describing' him ; since on him, as on every working junior, will devolve the real conduct of the defendant's case in the memorable action o{ Due on the demise ofTibnouse v. Roe. As Mr. Aubrey was driving home from the visit to Mr. Park- inson, which I have just above mentioned, he stopped his car- riage and alighted, on entering the village, because he saw Dr. Tatham coming out of Williams's cottage, where he had been paying a visit to poor dying IMicebe. The little doctor was pluntliering on, ankle-deep in snow, towards the vicarage, when Mr. Aubrey (who had sent home his carriage with word thai he should presently follow) came up with him, and greeting him with unusual fervour, said that he would accompany him to the vicarage. "You are in very great trouble, my dear friend," said the doctor seriously — "I saw it plainly last night; but of course I said nothing. Come in with me! Let us talk freely with one another; for, as iron slmrpenelh iron, so doth the countenance of a man hisfriejid. Is it not so ? " "It is indeed, my dear Doctor," replied Mr. Aubrey, suddenly softened by the affectionate simplicity of the doctor's manner. How much the good doctor was shocked by the communication which Mr. Aubrey presently made to him, the reader may easily imagine. He e\en shed tears, on beholding the forced calmness with which Mr. Aubrey dp|)icted the gloomy prospect tluit was before him. The venerable pastor led the subdued mind of his companion to those sources of consolation and support which a true Christian cannot approach in vain. Upon his bruised ami bleeding feelings were poured the balm of true religious consola- tion; and Mr. Aubrey quitted his revered companion with a far firmer tone of mind than thai with which he had entered the vi- carage. But as soon as he had passed through the park gates, the sudden reflection that he was probably no longer the proprietor i.f the dear old familiar objects that met his eye at every step , aln\o^t overpowered him, and he walked several limes up and down the avenue, before he had recovered a due degree of self-possession. Ten Thmistinii ii-Yenr. I. 19 290 On entering the Hall, he was informed that one of the tenants, Peter Johnson, had been sitting in the servants' hall for nearly two hours, wailing to see him. Mr. Aubrey repaired at once to the library, and desired the man to be shown in. This Johnson had been for some twenty-five years a tenant of a considerable farm on the estate ; had scarcely ever been behind-hand with his rent; and had always been considered one of the most exemplary persons in the whole neighbourhood. He had now, poor fellow, got into trouble indeed: for he had, a year or two before, been persuaded to become security for his brother-in-law, a tax-col- lector; and had, alas! the day before, been called upon to pay the three hundred pounds in which he stood bound — his worthless brother-in-law having absconded with nearly i 1000 of the public money. Poor Johnson, who had a large family to sup- port, was in deep tribulation, bowed down with grief and shame ; and after a sleepless night, had at length ventured down to Yat- ton, with a desperate boldness, to ask its benevolent owner to advance him ^ 200 towards the money , to save himself from being cast into prison. Mr. Aubrey heard this sad story to the end, without one single interruption; though to a more practised ob- server than the troubled old farmer, the workings of Mr. Aubrey's countenance, from time to time, must have told his inward agi- tation. "I lend this poor soul jf 200 ! " thought he, "who am penniless myself! Shall I not be really acting as his dishonest re- lative has been acting, and making free with money which belongs to another?" "I assure you, my worthy friend ," said he at length, with a little agitation of manner, " that I have just now a very serious call upon me — or you know how gladly I would have complied with your request." "Oh, Sir, have mercy on me! I've an ailing wife and seven children to support," said poor Johnson , wringing his hands. " Can't I do any thing with the Government ? " — I "No, Sir; I 'm told they 're so mighty angry with my rascally brother, they '11 listen to nobody! It 's a hard matter for me to keep things straight at home without this, Sir, I 've so many 291 mouths to fill; and if tlipy take me off to prison, Lord! Lord! what 's to become of us all?" Mr. Aubrey's lip quivered. Johnson fell on his knees, and the tears ran down his cheeks. "I 've never asked a living man for money before, Sir; and if you 'II only lend it me, God Al- mighty \>ill bless you and yours; you'll save us all from ruin; I '11 work day and night to pay it back again !" "Rise — rise, Johnson," said Mr. Aubrey with emotion. "You shall have the money, my friend, if you will call to-mor- row," he added with a deep sigh, after a moment's hesitation. He was as good as his word.* Had Mr. Aubrey been naturally of a cheerful and vivacious turn, the contrast now afforded by his gloomy manner must have alarmed his family. As it was, however, the contrast was not so strong and marked as to be attended with that effect, especially as he exerted himself to the utmost to conceal his distress. Thai snmetliiug had gone wrong, he freely acknowledged; and as he spoke ofit always in connexion with political topics, he succeeded in parrying their questions, and checking suspicion. But, when- ever they were all collected together, could he not justly compare them to a happy group, unconscious that they stood on a mine which was on the eve of being fired ? About a week afterwards, namely, on the l?lh of January, arrived little Charles's birthday, when he became fi\e years old; and Kate had for some days been moving heaven and earth to get up a juvenile ball in honour of the occasion. After divers urgent dispatches, and considerable riding and driving about, she suc- ceeded in persuading the parents of some eight or ten children — two little daughters, for instance, of the Earl of Oldacre ("beauti- ful creatures they were, to be sure) — little Master and the two Miss Bertons, the children of one of the county members — Sir Harry Oldfield, an orphan of about five years of age, the infant owner of a magnificent estate — and two or three little girls bc- • Whether Mr. Aubrey -vas justified in doing this, under his cir- cumstances, is a question which the author lias seen, and heard, se- veral limes lieenly discussed. It is siirprisint; how uiurh may be said on both sides of the question, by ingenious casuists. 19* 292 side — to send them all — cold as was the weather — to Yalfon, for a day and a night , willi lliPir governesses and attendants. 'T was a charming little ailair! It went olT brilliantly, as the phrase is, and repaid all Kate's exertions. She, her mother, and brother and sister, all dined at the same lable, at a very early hour, with the merry little guests, who (with a laughable crowd of attendants behind them, to be sure) behaved remarkably well on the occasion. Sir Harry (a liltie thing about Charles's age — the black riband round his waist, and also the half-mourning dress worn by his maid, who stood behind him, showed how recent was the event which had made him an orphan) proposed little Aubrey's health, in (I must own) a somewhat stiff speech, demurely dictated to him by Kale, who sat between him and her beautiful little nephew. She then performed the same office for Charles, who stood on a chair \vhil(; delivering his eloquent ac- knowledgment of the toast. [Oh! that anguished brow of thine, Aubrey, (thank God it Is unobserved !) but it tells me that the iron is enlering Ihy soul !J And the moment that he had done — Kate folding her arms around him and kissing him — down Ihey all jumped, and, a merry throng, scampered off to )he drawing-room, (followed by Kate,) where blind-man's buff, husbands and wives, and divers other little games, kept them in constant enjoyment. After lea, they were to have dancing — Kale mistress of the ceremonies — and it was quite laughable (o see how perpetually she was foiled in her efforts to form the little sets. The girls were orderly enough — but their wild lillle partners were quile unconlrollable ! The instant they were jtlaccd, and Kate had gone to the instrument and struck off a bar or two — ah! — what a scrambling little crowd was to be seen wildly jumping and laughing, and chattering and singing! Over and over again she formed them into sets, with the like results. But at length a young lady, one of their go- vernesses, took Miss Aubrey's |)lnce at the piano, leaving the latter to superintend the performances in person. She at length succeeded iu getting up somelhing like a country-dance , led off by Charles and little Lady Anno Clicrville , the eldest daughter of the Earl of Oldacrc , a beautiful child of about five years old , and 293 who, judging Irom appearances, hade fair, in due time, to be- come another Lady Caroline Caversham. You would have laughed outright to walcii the coquettish airs which this little creature gave herself with Charles, whom yet she evidently could not bear to see dancing with another. "Now /shall dance with somebody else!" he exclaimed, sud- denly quilting Lady Anne, and snatching hold of a sweet little thing, Miss IJerton, standing modestly beside him. The dis- carded beauty walked with a stately air, and a swelling heart, towards Mrs. Aubrey, who sat beside her husband on the sofa; and on reaching her, stood for a few moments silently watching her (ickle partner busily and gaily engaged with her successor — Then she burst into tears. "^Charles!" called out Mrs. Aubrey; who had watched the whole aflair, and could hardly keep her countenance — "come hither directly, Charles!" " Yes, mamma ! " he exclaimed — quite unaware of the serious aspect which things were assuming — and without e occurred? No, no, my own love! Must I then tell you of the misfortune that has overtaken us?" His words somewhat restored her, but she continued to gaze at him in nmle and breathless apprehension. "Let me then conceal no- thing, Agnes — they are bringing an action against me, whiyh , if successful , may cause us all to quit Yatton — and it may be , for ever." "Oh, Charles!" she murmured, her eyes riveted upon his, while she unconsciously moved still nearer lo him and trembled. Her head drooped upon his shoulder. "Why is this?" she whispered , after a pause. "Lei us, dearest, talk of it another time. I have now told you what you asked me." — He poured her out a glass of water. Having drank a little, she appeared revised. "Isalllosl? — And — ivlnj? Do, my own Charles — let me know really the worst ! " "We are joung, my Agnes! and ha\e the world before us! Health and integrity arc belter than riches I You and our little loves — the children which God has gicc7i 7is — are ?iiij riches," said he, gazing at her with uns()cakable tenderness. "Even should it be the will of Heaven that this affair snould go against us — so long as they cannot separate us from each other, they cannot reallij hurt us!" She suddenly kissed him with frantic energy, aud an hysteric smile gleamed over her pallid excited features. "Calm yourself, Agnes! — calm yourself, for my sake! — as you love me!" His >oice quivered. "Oh, how very weak and foolish I have been to yield lo " — "No, no, no!" she gasped, evidently labouring with hysteric oppression.' "Hush!" said she, suddenly starting, and wildly leaning forward towards the door which opened into the gallery leading to the various bed-rooms. He listened — the mothkk's ear had been quick and true. He presently heard the sound of many children's voices np|)roacliirig: they wore the little party, accompanied by Kale, and their attendants , ontlieirway to bed ; and little Charles's voice was loudest , aud his laugh the merriest, 298 of them all. A dreadful smile gleamed on Mrs. Aubrey's face; ber hand grasped her husband's with convulsive pressure; and she suddenly sunk, rigid and senseless, upon the sofa. He seemed for a moment stunned at the sight of her motionless figure. Soon, however, recovering his presence of mind, he rang the bell , and one or two female attendants quickly appeared , by whose joint assistance Mrs. Aubrey was carried to her bed in the adjoining room , where, by the use of the ordinary remedies, she was, after a brief interval, restored to consciousness. Her first languid look was towards Mr. Aubrey, whose hand she slowly raised to her lips. She tried to throw a smile over her wan fea- tures — but 't was in vain; and, after a few heavy and half-cho- king sobs, her overcharged feelings found relief in a flood of tears. Full of the liveliest apprehensions as lo the effect of this violent emotion upon her, in her critical condition, he remained with her for some time , pouring into her ear every soothing and lender expression he could think of. He at length succeeded in bring-r ingher into a somewhat more tranquil state than he could have expected. He strictly enjoined the attendants, who had not quitted their lady's chamber, and whose alarmed and inquisitive looks he had noticed for some time with anxiety, to preserve silence concerning what they had so unexpectedly witnessed, adding, that something unfortunate had happened , of which they would hear but too soon. "Are you going to tell Kate?'' whispered IMrs. Aubrey sor- rowfully. "Surely, love, yoji have suffered enough through yny weakness. Wait till to-morrow. Let her — poor girl ! — have a feio more happy hours ! " "No, Agnes — it wasjny own weakness which caused me to be surprised into this premature disclosure to you. And now I must meet her again to-night, and I cannot control either my features, or my feelings. Yes, poor Kate, she must know all to- night! I shall not be long absent , Agnes." And directing her maid to remain with her till he returned, he withdrew, and with slow step and heavy heart descended to the library; preparing himself for another heart-breaking scene — plunging another innocent and joyous creature into misery, which he believed lo 299 be inevitable. Ha^ing looked into llie drawing-room as be passed it, and seen no one there — his mother having, as usual, retired at a very early hour — he rung his library bell, and de- sired Miss Aubrey's maid to request her mistress to come down to him there, as soon as she should be at leisure. He was glad that the only light in the room was that given out by the tire, which was not very bright, and so would in some degree shield his fea- tures from , at ail events, immediate scrutiny. His heart ached as, shortly afterwards, he heard Kate's light step crossing the hall. When she entered , her eyes sparkled with vivacity, and a smile was on her beauteous cheek. Her dress was slightly dis- ordered, and her hair half uncurled — the results of her sport with the little ones whom she had been seeing to bed. "What merry little things, to be sure!" she commenced laughingly — "I could not get them to lie still a moment — pop- ping their little heads in and out of the clothes. A fine time I shall have of it, by and by, with Sir Harry ! for he is to be nvj tiny little bed-loiluw, and I daresay I shall not sleep a wink all night! — Why, Charles, how very — z-en/ grave you look ! " she added, quickly observing his eye fixed moodily upon her. "'T is you who arc so very gay," he replied, endeavouring to smile. "I want to' speak to you, dear Kale," he commenced affectionately — at the same time rising and closing the door — — "on a serious matter. I have received some letters to-night" — Kate coloured suddenly and violently, and her heart beat ; but, sweet soul! she was mistaken — very, very far off the mark her troubled brother was aiming at. '-And , relying on your strength of mind , I have resolved to put you at once in possession of what 1 myself know. Can you bear bad news well , Kate?" She turned very pale, and drawing her chair nearer to her brother, said, "l>o not keep me in suspense, Charles — lean bear any thing hut suspense — that is dreadful ! What has hap- pened? Oh dear," she added, with sudden alarm , "'where are mamma and Agnes?" She started to her feet. "I assure you they are both well. Kale. My mother is now doubtless asleep, and as well as she ever was; Agnes is in her 300 bed-room — certainly much distressed at the news which I am going"— • " Oh why, Charles, did you tell amj thing distressing to her?" exclaimed Miss Aubrey with an alarmed air. "We came together by surprise, Kate! Perhaps, too, it would ha\e been worse to have kept her in suspense; but she is recovering! — I shall soon return to her. And now, my dear Kate — I know your strong sense and spirit — a very great cala- mity hangs over us. Let you and me," he grasped her hands aflfectionately, "stand it steadily, and support those who cannot!" "Let me at once know all, Charles. See if I do not bear it as becomes your sister ," said she with forced calmness. "If it should become necessary for all of us to retire into ob- scurity — into humble obscurity, dear Kate — ^ how do you think you could bear it?" "If it will be an honourable obscurity — nay, 't is quite im- possible it can be a ivid apprehension. They both considered that an event of such publicity and import- ance could not possibly remain long unknown to her, and that'll was, on the whole, better that the dreaded communication should be got over as soon as possible. They then retired — Kate to a sleepless pillow , and her brother to spend a greater portion of the night in attempts to soothe and console his suffering wife; each of them having first knelt in humble reverence , and poured forth the breathings of a stricken and bleeding heart, before Him who hath declared that he is ever present to hear and to answer prayer. " Ah ! who can tell what a day or an hour may bring forth? "It won't kindle — not a bit on't — it 's green and full o' sap. Go out , and get us a log that 's dry and old , George — and let 's 303 try lo have a bit of a blaze in l' ould chimney , this bitter night," said Isaac Tonson , the gamekeper at Yatton , to tiie good-natured landlord of the Aubrey Arms , the little — and only — inn of the village. The suggestion was instantly attended to. "How Peter 'sa-fealhering of hisgecsc to-night, to be sure!" exclaimed the landlord on his return , shaking the snow off his coat, and laying on the fire a great dry old log of wood, which seemed very acceptable to the hungry flames, for they licked it cordially the moment it was placed amongst them, and there was very soon given out a cheerful blaze. 'T was a snug room. The brick floor was covered with fresh sand; and on a few stools and benches, with a table in the middle, on which stood a large can and ale-glasses, with a plate of tobacco, sat some half-dozen men, enjoying their i)ipe and glass. In the chimney-corner sat Thomas Dickons, the faithful under-bailiff of Mr. Aubrey, a big, broad-shouldered, middle-aged man, with a hard-featured face and a phlegmatic air. In the opposite corner sat the little grizzle- headed clerk and sexton , old Halleluiah — (as he was called , but his real name was Jonas Higgs.) Beside him sat Pumjikin, the gardener at the Hall , a very frequent guest at the Aubrey Arms o' nights — always attended by Hector, the large Newfoundland dog already spoken of, and who was now lying stretched on the floor at Pumpkin's feet, his nose resting on his forefeet, and his eyes, with great gravity , watching the motions of a skittish kilten under the table. Opposite to him sat Tonson the gamekeeper — a thin, wiry, beetle-browed fellow, with eyes like a ferret; and there were also one or two farmers , who lived in the village. "Let 's ha' another can o' ale, afore ye sit down," said Ton- son, "we can do with another half gallon, I 'm thinking!" This order also was quickly attended to ; and then the landlord, having seen to the door, fastened the shutters close, and stirred the crackling (ire, took his place on a vacant stool , and resumed his pipe. "So she do take a very long grave , Jonas?" enquired Dickons of the sexton , after some little pause. "Ay, Mr. Dickons, a' think she do, t' ould girl! I always thought she would — I used to measure her (as one may say) iu 304 my mind, whenever I saw her I 'T is a reg'lar ?n««V size, I war- rant you; and when parson saw it, a' said, he thought 'twere too big ; but I ax'd his pardon , and said I hadn't been sexton for thirty years without knowing my business — he , heJ " "I suppose, Jonas, you mun ha' seen her walking about i' I' village, in your time! — // «-e she such a big-looking woman?" enquired Pumpkin, as he shook the ashes out of his pipe, and replenished it. "Forty year ago I did use to see her — she were then an old woman, wi' white hair, and leaned on a stick — I ne\er thought she 'd a lasted so long ," replied Higgs , emptying his glass. "She've had a pretty long spell on 't," quoth Dickons, after slowly emptying his mouth of smoke. "A hundred and two," replied the sexton; "so saith her coffin-plate — a' see 'd it to-day." "What were her name?" enquired Tonson — "/never knew her by any name but Blind Bess." "Her name be Elizabeth Crablrec on the colTin," replied Higgs; "and she be to be buried to-morrow." "She were a strange old woman," said Hazel, one of the far- mers, as he look down one of the oatcakes hanging overhead; and breaking oft" a piece, held it with the tongs before the fire lo toast, and then [)Ul it into his ale. "Ay, she were," quoth Pumpkin ; "I wonder what she thinks o'such things now — maybe — God forgive me! — she 's paying dear for her tricks! " **'Tul, Pumpkin," saidTonson, "let t' ould creature rest in her grave, where she 's going to, peaceably!" "Ay, Master Tonson," quoth the clerk, in his reading-desk twang — " THERE be no knowledge^ nor wisdom, nor device!" " 'T is very odd," observed Pumpkin, "but this dog that's lying at my feet never could a' bear going past her cottage late o' nights — hang me if he conld; and the night she died — Lord! you should ha\e heard the howl Hector gave — and a' didn't then know she were gone — it 's as true as the gospel — it is — actually!" "No! but were 't really so? " enquired Dickons — several of 305 the others taking their pipes out of their mouths, and looking ear- nestly at Puiupkin. " I didn't half like it, I can tell you ," quoth Pumpkin. " Ha, ha, ha ! — ha, ha ! " laughed the gamekeeper — "Ay, marry you may laugh," quoth Pumpkin, "but I 'II slake half-a-gallon o' ale you daren't go by yourself to the cottage where she 's lying — now, mind — i' the dark." "/7/doit," quoth Higgs eagerly, preparing to lay down his pipe. "No, no — thou 'rl quite used to dead folk — 't is quite in thy line! " replied Pumpkin — and, after a little faint drollery, silence ensued for some moments. "Bess dropped off sudden like, at the last, didn't she?" en- quired the landlord. "She went out, as they say, like the snuff of a candle," replied Jobbins, one of the farmers; "no one were with her but my Missis at the time. The night afore, she had took to the rattles all of a sudden. My Sail (that 's done for her, this long time, by Madam's orders,) says old Bess were a good deal shaken by a chap from London, which cam' down about a week afore Christmas." "Ay, ay," quolh one, "I 've heard o' that — what was it? — what passed alwivt them ? " "Why, a' don't well know — but he seemed to know summat about 't ould girl's connexions, and he had a book, and wrote down something, and he axed her, so Sail do tell me, such a many things about old people, and things that are long gone by! " "What were the use on't?" enquired Dickons; "for Bess hath been silly this ten years, to my sartin knowledge." " Why, a' couldn't tell. He seemed very "quisilive, too, about t' ould creature's bible and prayer-book (she kept them in that ould bag of her's) — and Sail said she had talked a good deal to the chap in her mumbling way, and seemed lo know some folk he asked her about. And Sail saith she hath been , in a manner, dismal ever since, and often a-crying and talking to herself." "I 've heard," said the landlord, "that squire and parson were wi' her on Christmas-day — and that she talked a deal o' strango Ten Thoiisdiiri a-Yeur, 1, 20 306 things, and that the squire did seem, as it were , struck a little, you know — struck, like ! " " Why , so my Sail do say ; but it may be all her own head," replied Jobbins. Here a pause took place. "Madam," said the sexton, " hath given orders for an uncom- mon decent burying to-morrow." "Well, a' never thought any wrong of ould Bess, for my part," said one — and another — and another; and they smoked their pipes for some short time in silence. "Talking o' strangers from Loudon," said the sexton, pre- sently — ' ' who do know any thing o' them two chaps that were at church last Sunday? Two such peacock chaps I never see 'd afore in 7mj time — and grinning all sarvice-time ! the heathen!" "Ay, I 'II tell you something of 'em," said Hazel — a big broad-shouldered farmer, who plucked his pipe out of his mouth with sudden energy — "They 're a brace o' good ones, to be sure, ha, ha ! Some week or ten days ago, as I were a-coming across the field leading into the lane behind the church , I see 'd these same two chaps, and on coming nearer, (they not seeing me for the hedge.) Lord bless me! would you believe it? — if they wasn't a-teasing my daughter Jenny, that were coming along wi' some physic from the doctor for my old woman ! One of 'em seemed a-going to put his arm round her neck and t' other came close to her on t' olher side, a-talking to her and pushing her about." Here a young farmer, who had but seldom spoken, took his pipe out of his mouth, and exclaiming, ''Lord bless me !" sat listening with his mouth wide open. "Well," continued the former, a' came into the road behind 'em, without their seeing me ; and " — (here he stretched out a thick, rigid, muscular arm, and clenched his teeth) — "a' got hold of each by the collar, and one of 'em I shook about , and gave him a kick i' the breech that sent him spinning a yard or two on the road, he clapping his hand behind him, and crying, to be sure — 'You 'I! smart for this — a good hundred pound damages!' or summat o' that sort. T'other dropped on his knees, and begged for mercy; so a' just spit in his face, and flung him under t' hedge, telling him if he stirred till I were 307 out 0* sight, I 'd crack his skull for him ; and so I would!" Here the wrathful speaker pushed his pipe again between his lips, and began pufling away with great energy; while he who had appeared to take so great an interest in the story, and who was the very man who had llown to the rescue of Miss Aubrey , when she seemed on the point of being similarly treated, told that circumstance exactly as it occurred, amidst the silent but excited wonder of those present — all of whom, at its close, uttered vehement execrations, and intimated the summary and savage punishment which the cowardly rascal would have experienced at the hands of each and every one of them, had they come across him. "I reckon," said the landlord, as soon as the swell had a little subsided, " they must be the two chaps that put up here, some lime ago , for an hour or so. You should ha' seen 'em get on and o(T the saddle - that 'sail! Why, a' laughed outright! The chap with the hair under his chin got on upon the wrong side, and t'other seemed as if he thought his beast would a' bit him!" "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed all. " I thought they 'da both got a fall before they 'd gone a dozen yards!" '•They 've taken a strange fancy to my churchyard ,'' said the sexton , setting down his glass , and then preparing to (ill his pipe again ; " they 've been looking about among 'em — among t' ould gravestones, up behind t' ould yew-lrec yonder; and one of them writ something, now and then, in a book; so they 're book-writers, iucoorse!" "That's scholars, I reckon," quoth Dickons; "but rot (he laming of such chaps as them !" "I wonder if they '11 put a picture o' the Hall in their book," quoth the sexton. "They axed a many questions about the people up there, especially about the squire's father, and some ould folk, whose names I knew when they spoke of 'em — but 1 hadn't heard o' them for this forty year. And one of 'em (he were the shortest, and such a chap, to be sure! — just like the monkey that were dressed i' man's clothes, last Grilstou fair) talked uncomn)on line about young Miss" — 2Q* 308 ''U ['da.' heard him tak' her name into his dirty moulh, his teeth should a' gone after it ! " said Tonson. "Lord! he didn't say any harm — only silly-like — and t' other seemed now and then not to like his going on so. The little one said Miss were a lovely gal , or something like that — and hoped they 'd become by-and-by better friends — ah, ha ! " "What! wi' that chap?" said Pumpkin — and he looked as if he were meditating putting the little sexton up the chimney, for the mere naming of such a thing. "I reckon they 're fro' London, and brought toon tricks wi' 'em — for I never heard o' such goings on as theirs down here afore," said Tonson. "One of 'em — him that axed me all the questions, and wrote i' t' book , seemed a sharp enough chap in his way ; but I can't say much for the little one," said Higgs. "Lud, I couldn't hardly look in his face for laughing , he seemed such a fool ! — He had a riding-whip v\i' a silver head, and stood smacking his legs (you should ha' seen how tight his clothes was on his legs — I warrant you, Tim Tinipkins never seed such a thing, I '11 be sworn) all the while, as if a' liked to hear the sound of it." "If I 'da' been beside him," saidUazel, "I 'da' saved him that trouble — only I 'd a' laid it into another part of him!" "Ha, ha, ha!" they laughed — and presently passed on to other matters. "Hath the squire been doing much lately in Parliament?" enquired the sexton, of Dickons. "Why, yes — he 's trying hard to get that new road made from Harkley bridge to Hilton." "Ah, that would save a good four mile, if a' could manage it!" said one of the farmers. " I hear the Papists are trying to get the upper hand again — which the Lud forbid ! " said the sexton, after another pause. "The squire hath lately made a speech in that matter, that hath finished them," said Dickons, in a grave and authoritative tone. "What would they be after?" enquired the landlord ofDick- ons, of whom, in common with all present, he thought great 309 things. "They say they wants nothing but what 's their own, and liberty, and that like" — "If thou wert a shepherd, Master Higgs," replied Dickons, "and wcrt to be asked by ten or a dozen wolves to let them in among thy flock of sheep, they saying how quiet and kind they Mould be to 'em — wouid'st let 'em in, or keep 'cm out — eh?" "Ay, ay — that be it — 't is as true as gospel! " said the clerk. "So you a'n't to have that old sycamore down, after all, Mas- ter Dickons?" enquired Tonson , after a pause in the conver- sation. "No; Miss hath carried the day against the Squire and Mr. Waters; and there stands the old tree, and it hath to be looked to belter than ever it were afore ! " " Wiiy hath Miss taken such a fancy to it? 'T is an old crazy thing!" "If thou hadst been there when she did beg, as I may say, its life," replied Dickons with a little energy — "and hadst seen her, and heard her voice, that be as smooth as cream, thou wouid'st never have forgotten it, I can tell thee! " " There isn't a more bcatililul lady i' I' county , I reckon, than the Squire's sister?" enquired the sexton. "No, nor in all England: if there be, I '11 lay down twenty pounds ! " "And where 's to be found a young lady that do go about i' i' village like she? — She were wi' Phoebe Williams t' other night, all through the snow , and i' l' dark." " If I 'd only laid hands on that chap!" interrupted the young farmer, her rescuer. "I wonder she do not choose some one to be married to , up in London," said the landlord. " She 'II be h.iving some delicate high quality chap , I reckon, one o' these fine days," said Hazel. "She will be a dainty dish, truly, for whomever God gives her to ," quoth Dickons. "Ay, she will," said more than one , in an earnest tone. "Now, to my mind," said Tonson, "saving your presence, Master Dickons, I know not but young madam be more to my 310 taste; she be in a manner somewhat fuller — plumper-like, and her skin be so white , and her hair as black as a raven's." "There's not another two such women lo be found in the whole world," said Dickons authoritatively. Here Hector suddenly rose up, and went to the door, where he stood snuffing in an in- quisitive manner. "Now, what do that dog hear, I wonder?" quoth Pumpkin curiously, stooping forward. "Blind Bess," replied Tonson, winking his eye, and laughing. Presently there was a sharp rapping at the door; which the land- lord opened, and let in one of the servants from the Hall, his clothes white with snow, his face nearly as white, with manifest agitation. "Why, man, what 's the matter?" enquired Dickons, startled by the man's appearance. "Art frightened at any thing?" "Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!" he commenced. "Whatisit, man? Art drunk? — ormad? — or frightened? J ^ Take a drop o' drink," said Tonson. But the man refused it. "Oh , Lord ! — There 's woful work at the Hall ! " "What's the mailer?" cried all at once, rising and standing round the new comer. " If thou be'st drunk, John ," said Dickons sternly , "there's a way of sobering thee — mind that." "Oh, Master Dickons, I don't know what 's come to me, for grief and fright! The Squire, they do say, and all of us, are lo be turned out o' Yatton ! " ''ff^hal.'" exclaimed all in a breath. "There 's some one else lays claim to it. We must all go! Oh, Lud! oh, Lud!" No one spoke for a while; and conster- nalion was written on every face. " Sit thee down here, John," said Dickoos at length , "and let us hear what thou hast to say — or thou wilt have us ail be going up in a body to the Hall." Having forced on him part of a glass of ale, he began, — "There hath been plainly mischief brewing, somewlicre , this many days, as I could tell by the troubled face o' l' Squire; but he kept it to himself. Lawyer Parkinson and another have been 311 latterly coming in chaises from London ; and last night the Squire got a letter that seems to have finished all. Such trouble there were last night wi' t' Squire , and young madam and miss ! And to-day the parson came, and were a long while alone with old madam, who hath since had a stroke, or a fit, or something of that like, (the doctors have been there all day from Grilston,) and likewise young madam hath taken to her bed , and is ill. Oh, Lud! oh, Lud ! Such work there be going on! " "And what of the Squire and miss?" enquired some one, after all had maintained a long silence. "Oh, 't would break your heart to see them," said the man, dolefully : " they be both pale as death : he so dreadful sorrowful, but quiet, like, and she now and then wringing her hands, and both of them going from the bed-room of old madam to young madam's. Nay, an' there had been half a dozen deaths i' I' house, it could not be worse. Neither the Squire or miss hath touched food the whole day !'' There was, in truth , not a dry eye in the room , nor one whose voice did not seem somewhat obstructed with his emotions. "Who told thee all this about the Squire's losing the estate?" enquired Dickons, with mingled trepidation and sternness. "We heard of it but an hour or so agonc. Mr. Parkinson (it seems by the Squire's orders) told Mr. Waters, and he told it to us; saying as how it was useless to keep such a thing secret , and that we might as well all know the occasion of so much trouble." "Who's to ha' it then, instead of the Squire?" at length en- quired Tonson , in a voice half choked with rage and grief. "Lord only knows at present. But whoever 'tis, there isn't one of us sar>ents but will go with the Squire and his — if it be even to prison , Ihat I can tell ye ! " "I'm Squire ./////w/'a- gamekeeper," quoth Tonson, his eye kindling as his countenance darkened, "and no one's else! It shall go hard if any one else here hath a game" — "But if there 's law in the land , sure the justice must be wi' I' Squire — he and his family have had it so long! " said one of the farmers. "I '11 tell you what, masters," said Pumpkin mysteriously, 312 "I shall be somewhat better pleased when Jouas here hath got that old creature Bess safe underground ! " "Blind Bess?" exclaimed Tonson , with a very serious , not to say disturbed, countenance. " I wonder — sure! sure! that ould witch can have had no hand in all this — eh ? " — "Poor old soul, not she! There be no such things as witches Dow-a-days," exclaimed Jonas. "Not she, I warrant me ! She hath been ever befriended by the Squire's family. 5Aedoit!" " The sooner we get that old woman underground , for all that, the better, say I!" quoth Tonson, signiticantly. "The parson hath a choice sermon on 'The Flying away of Riches,'" said Higgs in a quaint, sad manner; "'t is to be hoped he '11 preach from it next Sunday ! " — Soon after this, the little party dispersed, each oppressed with greater grief and amazement than he had ever known before. Bad news flies swiftly — and that which had just come from the Hall, within a very few hours of its having been told at the Aubrey Arms, had spread grief and consternation among high and low for many miles round Yatton. CHAPTER X. Would you have believed it? Notwithstanding all that had happened between Titmouse and Tag-rag , they positively got reconciled to one another — a triumphant result of the astute policy of Mr. Gammon. As soon as he had heard Titmouse's infuriated account of his ignominious expulsion from Satin Lodge, he burst into a fit of hearty but genlle laughter, which at length subsided into an inward chuckle which lasted the rest oftheday; and was occasioned, first, by gratification at the im- pression which his own sagacity had evidently produced upon the powerful mind of Titmouse; secondly, by an exequisite appre- ciation of the mingled meanness and stupidity of Tag-rag. I do not mean it to be understood, that Titmouse had given Mr. Gam- mon such a terse and clear account of the matter as I imagine my- 313 self to have giveu to the reader; but slill he told quite enough to put Mr. Gamuion in full possession of the true stale of the case. Good: but then — instaiilly reflected Gammon — what are we now to do with Titmouse? — where was that troublesome little ape to be caged, till it suited the i)urposes of his proprietors (as Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap might surely be called, for they had caught him , however they might fail to tame him) to let him lose upon society , to amuse and astonish it by his antics? — That was the question occupying the thoughts of Mr. Gammon, while his calm, clear^ grey eye was fixed upon Titmouse, ap- parently very attentive to what he was saying. That gentleman had first told the story of his wrongs to Snap , who instantly , rubbing his hands, suggested an indictment at the Clerkeuwell sessions — an idea which infinetely delighted Titmouse, but was somewhat sternly " pooh-poohed ! " by Mr. Gammon as soon as he heard of it, — Snap thereat shrugging his shoulders with a disconcerted air, but a bitter sneer upon his sharp , hard face. Like many men of little but active minds, early drilled to particular and petty callings. Snap was equal to the mechanical conduct of business — the mere working of the machinery — but, as the phrase is, could never see an inch beyond his nose. Every little conjuncture of circumstances which admitted of litigation, at once suggested its expediency , without reference to other considerations, or con- nexion with , or subordination to , any general purpose or plan of action. A creature of small impulses , he had no idea of foregoing a momentary advantage to secure an ulterior object of importance — which, in fact, he could not keep for a moment before his thoughts, so as to have any influence on his movements. What a different man , now , was Gammon ! To speak alter the manner of physiologists, several of my characters — Titmouse, Tag-rag, (with his amiable wife and daughter,) Huckaback, Snap, and old Quirk himself — maybe looked on as reptiles of a low order in the scale of being, whose simple structures almost one dash of the knife would suftice to lay thoroughly open. Gammon, however, I look upon as of a much higher order; possessing a far more complicated structure, adapted to the discharge of superior functions; and who, con- 314 sequcQlIy, requireth a more careful dissection. But let it no be supposed that I have yet done with any of my characters. Gammon saw that Tag-rag, under proper management, might be made very useful. He was a moniedvian; a selfish man ; and, after his sort, an ambitious man. He had an only child, a daughter, and if Titmouse and he could only be by any means once more brought together, and a firm friendship cemented be- tween them, Gammon saw several very profitable uses to which such an intimacy might be turned, in the happening of any of several contemplated contingencies. In the event, for instance, of larger outlays of money being required than suited the con- venience of the firm — could not Tag-rag be easily brought to accommodate his future son-in-law of i 10, 000 a-year? Suppose that, after all, their case should break down, and all their pains, exertions, and expenditure be utterly thrown away! Now, if Tag-rag could be quietly brought, some fine day, to the point of either making an actual advance, or becoming security for Tit- mouse — ah! that would do — that would do^ said both Quirk and Gammon. But then Titmouse was a very unsafe instrument — an incalculable fool , and might commit himself too far ! "You forget. Gammon," said old Mr. Quirk, "I don't fear this girl of Tag-rag's — because only let Titmouse see — hem ," he suddenly paused , and looked a little confused. " To be sure — I see ," replied Gammon quietly, and the thing passed off. ''If either Miss Quirk or Miss Tag-rag becomes Mrs. Titmouse," thought he, ''I am not the man I take myself for." A. few days after Titmouse's expulsion from Satin Lodge, with- out his having ever gone near Tag-rag's premises in Oxford Street, or, in short, seen or heard any thing about him , or any one con- nected with him , Titmouse removed to small but very respectable lodgings in the neighbourhood of Hatton Garden, provided for him by Mr. Quirk. Mrs. S(iuallop was quite afl'ectcd while she took leave of Titmouse, who gave her son a penny to take his two boxes down-stairs to the hackney-coach drawn up opposite to the en- trance of Closet Court. ' ' I 'vc always felt like a mother towards you , Sir , in my hum- 315 ble way," said Mrs. Squallop iu a very respeclful mauner, and curtsying profoundly. "A — 1 'venolgot any — a — changeby me, my good woman," said Titmouse with a line air, as he drew on his white kid glove. "Lord, Mr. Titmouse! " said the woman, almost bursting into tears, "I wasn't asking for money, neither for me nor mine — only one c.in'i help, as it were, feeling at parting with an old lodger, you know, Sir" — "Ah — ya — as — and all that! Well, my good woman, good- day, good-day!" quoth Titmouse, with an air of languid in- difference. " Good-by , Sir — God bless you , Sir, now you 're going to be a rich man ! — Excuse me, Sir." — And she seized his hand and shook it. "You 'rea — devilish — impudent — woman — 'pon my soul ! ' exclaimed Titmouse, his features filled with amazement at the presumption of which she had been guilty; and he strode down the stairs with an air of uH'cnded dignity. "Well — I never! — That for you, you little brute," exclaimed Mrs. Squallop , snapping her fingers as soon as she had heard his last step on the stairs — "Kind (jr cruel, it 's all one to you I — You 're a nasty jackanapes , only Gt to stand in a tailor's w indow to show his clothes— and I 'II be sworn you '11 come to no good in the end , please God ! Let you be 7-ich as you may , you 'II always be the fool you always was ! " Had the good woman been familiar with Ihe Night Thoughts of Dr. Young, she might ha>e expressed herself somewhat tersely iu a line of his — "Pigmies are pigmies still, though perched on Alps," And, by the way, who can read the next line — "Ami pjraniiJs arc pyramids in vales," without thinking for a moment, with a kind of proud sympathy, of certain ot/icr characters in this history? Well! but let us pass on. The day after that on which Mr. Gammon had had a long inter- view with Titmouse, at the new lodgings of the latter, — wheu, 316 after a very skilful effort, he had succeeded in reconcilingTitmouse to a renewal of his acquaintance with Tag-rag, upon that gentle- man's making a complete and abject apology for his late monstrous conduct, — Mr. Gammon wended his way towards Oxford Street, and soon introduced himself once more to Mr. Tag-rag, who was standing leaning against one of the counters in his shop in a musing position , with a pen behind his ear , and his hands in his breeches' pockets. Ten days had elapsed since he had expelled Ihe'little impostor Titmouse from Satin Lodge, and during that interval he had neither seen nor heard any thing whatever of him. On now catching the first glimpse of Mr. Gammon, he started from his musing posture , not a little disconcerted, and agitation overspread his coarse deeply-pitted face with a tallowy hue. What was in the wind ! Mr. Gammon coming to him , so long after what had occurred? Mr. Gammon who, having found out his error, had discarded Titmouse ! Tag-rag had a mortal dread of Gammon, who seemed to him to glide like a dangerous snake into the shop, so quietly, and so deadhj ! There was something so calm and im- perturbable in his demeanour, so blandly crafty, so ominously gentle and soft in the tone of his voice, so penetrating in his eye, and he could throw such an infernal smile over his features! Tag-rag might be likened to the animal, suddenly shuddering as he perceives the glistening folds of the rattlesnake noiselessly moving towards , or around him , in the long grass. One glimpse of his blasting beauty of hue, and — Horror! all is over. If the splendid bubble of Titmouse's fortune //arf burst in the manner which he had represented, why Gammon here now? thought Tag-rag. It was with, in truth, a very poor show of contempt and defiance, that, in answer to the bland salutation of Gammon , Tag-rag led the way down the shop into the little room which had been the scene of such an extraordinary communication concerning Titmouse on a former occasion. Gammon commenced, in a mild tone, with a very startling representation of the criminal liability which Tag-rag had incurred by his wanton outrage upon Mr. Titmouse, his own guest, in vio- lation of all the laws of hospilalify. Tag-rag furiously alleged the imposition which had been practised on him by Titmouse; but 317 seemed quite collapsed when Gammon assured him that that cir- cumstance would not aflord him the slightest justification. Having satisfied Tag-rag that he was entirely at the mercy of Tilmouse, who might suhject him to hoth fine and imprisonment , Mr. Gam- mon proceeded to open his eyes to their widest stare of amaze- ment, by assuring him that Titmouse had been hoaxing him, and that he was really in the dazzling position in which he had been first represented by Gammon lo Tag-rag; that every week brought him nearer to Ihe full and uncontrolled enjoyment of an estate in Yorkshire, worth :t 10,000 a-year at the very lowest; that it was becoming an object of increasing anxiety to them (Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap) to keep him out of the hands of money- lenders, who, as usual in such cases, had already scented out their victim, and so forth. Tag-rag turned very white, and felt sick at heart in the midst of all his wonder. Oh , and his daughter had lost the golden prize! and through ///5 misconduct! He could have sunk into the cellar! — Mr, (iammon declared that he could not account for the singular conduct of Mr. Titmouse on the melancholy occasion in question, except by referring it to the ex- cellent wines which he had too freely partaken of at Satin Lodge, added (said Gammon, with an exquisite expression of features which perfectly fascinated Tag-rag) to a "certain tenderer in- fluence" which had fairly laid prostrate the faculties of Ihe young and enthusiastic Titmouse; tiiat there could be no doubt of his real motive in the conduct alluded to, namelj^desire to test the sincerity and disinterestedness of a 'certain^erson's" attach- ment before he let all his fond and passionate feelings go out towards her — [At this point Ihe perspiration burst from every pore in the devoted body of Tag-rag] — and that no one could deplore the unexpected issue of his little experiment so much as now did Titmouse. Tag-rag really, for a moment, scarcely knew where he was, who was with him , nor whether he stood on his head or his heels, so delightful and entirely unexpected was the issue of Mr. Gam- mon's visit. As soon as his faculties had somewhat recovered themselves from their temporary confusion, almost breathless, be assured Gammon that no event in the whole course of bis life 318 had occasioned him such poignant regret as his treatment of Tit- mouse on the occasion in question ; that he had undoubtedly fol- lowed unwittingly (he was ashamed to own) the example of Tit- mouse, and drunk far more than his usual quantity of wine; be- sides which he had undoubtedly noticed, as had Mrs. T. , the state of things between Mr. Titmouse and his daughter — talking of whom, by the way, he could assure Mr. Gammon that both Mrs. and Miss T. had been ill ever since that unfortunate evening, and had never ceased to condemn his — Tag-rag's — monstrous conduct on that occasion. As for Miss T. , she was growing thin- ner and thinner every day , and he thought he must send her to the country for a short time: in fact— poor girl! — she was plainly pining away! To all this Mr. Gammon listened with a calm, delightful, sympathizing look, which quite transported Tag-rag, and satis- fied him that Mr. Gammon implicitly believed every word that was being said to him. But when he proceeded to assure Tag-rag that this visit of his had been undertaken at the earnest instance of Mr. Titmouse himself, (who, by the way, had removed to lodgings which would do for the present, so as they were only near to their office , for the purpose of frequent communication on matters of business between him and their firm,) who had urged Mr. Gammon to tender the olive branch , in the devout hope that it might be accepted — Tag-rag's excitement knew scarce any bounds; and he ;<;0Hld almost have started into the shop, and given orders to his shopmen to shut up shop haU an hour earlier for the rest of the week ! Mr. Gammon wrote down Titmouse's direction, and handing it to Mr. Tag-rag, assured him that a call from him would be gratefully received by Mr. Titmouse. "There 's no accounting for these things, Mr. Tag-rag — is there?" said Mr. Gammon, with an arch smile, as he prepared to depart — Tag-rag squeezing his hands with painful energy as Gammon bade him adieu, declaring that "he should not be him- self for the rest of the day," and bowing the aforesaid Mr. Gam- mon down the shop with as profound an obsequiousness as if he had been the Lord Iligh Chancellor, or even the Lord Mayor. As soon as Gammon had got fairly into the street, and to a safe 319 distance, be burst into little gentle paroxysms of laugbler, every now and then, which lasted him till he had regained his office in SallVon Hill. The motive so boldly and skiKuily suggested by Gammon to Tag-rag, as that impelling Titmouse lo seek a reconciliation with bim , was greedily credited by Tag-rag. 'T is certainly very easy for a man to believe what he wishes to be true. Was it very im- probable that Tag-rag, loving only one object on earth, (next to money, which indeed he really did love with the best and holiest energies of his nature,) namely, his daughter; and believing her to be possessed of qualities calculated to excite every one's love — should believe that she had inspired Titmouse with the passion of which he had just been hearing — a passion which was consuming him — which could not be quenched by even the gross outrage which — but faugh! thai Tag-rag shude gone on in this strain , seeing no one present had resolution enough to differ with or interrupt him, even if they had been so disposed, Iknowuot; but fortunately dinner was announced — a sound which startled old Quirk out of a posture of intense attention to Viper, and evi- dent admiration of his sentiments. He gave his arm with an air of prodigious politeness to the gaunt .Mrs. Alderman Addlehead, •whose distinguished lord led down Miss Quirk — and the rest followed in no particular order — Titmouse arm in arm with Gammon, who took care to place him next to himself, (Gammon.) It was really a dashing sort of dinner — such, indeed, as Mr. Quirk had long been celebrated for. Titmouse had never seen anything like it, and was quite bewildered — particularly at the number of differently shaped and coloured glasses, A'C. dtc. ery heartily agreed, for once in his life, with the worshipful person opposite to liim, in his estimate of our friend Titmouse. "Mr. Titmouse! Mr. Titmouse! my daughter wonders you won't take wine with her," said Mr. Quirk in a low lone — "will you join us? we 're going to take a glass of champagne." '•'Oh ! 'pon my life — delighted" — quoth Titmouse. "Dora, my dear! Mr. Titmouse will take wine with you! — Jack," (to the servant,) "fill Miss Quirk's and Mr. Titmouse's glasses to the brim." "Oh no! dearest papa — gracious!" she exclaimed, remo- ving her glass. "Pho! plio I — nonsense — the first time of asking, you know, ah, ha!" "Well! If it nmst be," and with what a graceful inclination — with what a sly searching glance, and fascinating smile, did she exchange courtesies with Titmouse! He felt disposed to take wine with her a second time immediately; but Gammon restrained him. Mr. Toady Hug, ha\ing become acquainted with the brilliant prospects of Titmouse, earnestly desired to exert his little talents to do the agreeable, and ingratiate himself with Mr. Titmouse; but there was a counteracting force in another direction — viz. the attorney, Mr. Flaw, who had the greatest practice at the Clerkenwell sessions; who sat beside him, and received his most respectful and incessant attentions; Hug speaking ever to him in a low confidential whisper, constantly casting a furtive glance towards Bluster and Slang, to see whether they were observing him. In "strict confidence" he assured Mr. Flaw how his case, the other day, might have been won, if such and such a course had been adopted, "which would have been the line Ae" (Hug) 335 "would Lave taken ;" and which he explained with anxious energy. "I must say, (but don't mention it !) that Mr. Flip regularly threw the case away — no doubt of it ! By the way, what became of that burglary case of yours, on Friday, Mr. Flaw? Uncommonly interesting case! " "Found guilty, poor fellows! " "You don't say so?" "Fact, by Jove, though!" "How co?//r/ Mr. Gobble have lost that verdict? I assure you I would have bet ten to one on your getting a verdict; for I read over your brief as it lay beside me, and upon my honour, Mr. Flaw, it was most admirably got up. Every thing depends on the brief — "Glad you thought so, Sir," replied Flaw, wondering how it was that he had never before thought of giving a brief to Mr. Hug. "It 's a great mistake of counsel," quolh Hug, earnestly — "not to pay the utmost attention to their briefs! For my part," he continued in a lower tone, "I make a point of reading every syllable in my brief, however long it is ! " "It 's the only way, depend on it. Sir. We attorneys, you know, see and know so much of the case, conversing conliden- tially with the prisoners" — "Ay, and beyond that — Your practical suggestions, my dear Sir, are often — Now, for instance, in the brief I was allu- ding to, there was, 1 recollect — one most — uncommonly acute suggestion" — "Sir — you 're uncommonly flattering! Am particularly obliged loyou! Maylask, what it was that struck you?" — en- quired the attorney briskly, his countenance showing the progress of Hug's lubricating process. •Oh— why— a— a— hem!" stammered Hug, somewhat non- plussed — (for his little fiction had been accepted as a fact!) "No; it would hardly be fair to Gobble, and I 'm sorry in- deed"— "Well, well — it can't be helped noiv—\)\i\. I must say that once or twice latterly I've thought, myself, thai Mr. Gobble has 336 rather — By the way, Mr. Hug, shall you be iu town this week, till the eud of the sessions?" " Ye— e — s!" hastily whispered Hug, after glancing guiltily towards his brethren , who, though they did not seem to do so, were really watching him with ill-subdued fury. "I 'm happy to hear it! — You 've heard of Aaron Doodle, who was committed for that burglary at —? Well, I defend him, and shall be happy to give you the brief. Do you lead Mr. Dolt?" Hug nodded. "Then he will be your junior. Where are your chambers, Mr. Hug?" "No. 4, Cant Court, Gray's Inn. When, ray dear Sir, does the case comes on?" "Thursday — perhaps Wednesday." "Then do come and breakfast with me," quoth Hug, iu a whisper — "and we can talk it over, you know, so nicely to- gether!" "Sir, you 're very polite. I will do myself the pleasure" — replied Mr. Flaw — and good-naturedly took wine with Mr. Hug. This little stroke of business over, the disengaged couple were at liberty to attend to the general con\ersation of the table. Mr. Bluster and Mr. Slang kept the company in almost a constant roar, with descriptions of scenes in court, in which they had, of course, been the principal actors; and according to their own accounts they must have been wonderful fellows. Such botherers of judges — particularly aldermen and police magistrates! — Such bafflers and browbeatcrs of witnesses! — Such bamboozlers of juries!" You should have seen the sneering countenance of Hug all the while. He never once smiled or laughed at the brilliant sallies of his brethren, and did his best to prevent his new patron, Mr. Flaw, from doing so — constantly putting his hand before his mouth , and whispering into Mr. Flaw's ear at the very point of the joke or story — and the smile would disappear from the counte- nance of Mr. Flaw. The Alderman laughed till the tears ran out of his little eyes, which be constantly wiped with his napkin! Amidst the general laughter and excitement, Miss Quirk, leaning her chin on her 337 hand , her elbow resting on tlie table , several times directed soft, languishing looks towards Titmouse, unobserved by anyone but himself; and they were not entirely unsuccessful , although Tit- mouse was wonderfully taken with the stories of the two coun- sellors, and believed them to be two of the greatest men he had ever seen or heard of, and at the head of their profession. " 'Pon my soul — I hope, Sir, you '11 have those two gents in my case?" said he earnestly to Gammon. "Unfortunately, your case will not come on in their courts," said Gammon, with a very expressive smile. "Why, can't it come on wherel choose? — or when you like?" enquired Titmouse surprisedly. Mr. Quirk had been soured during the whole of dinner, for he had anxiously desired to have Titmouse sit beside him at the bottom of the table; but in the little hubbub attendant upon coming down to dinner and taking places, Titmouse slipped out of sight for a minute ; and when all were placed, Quirk's enraged eye perceived him seated in the middle of the table, beside Gam- mon. Gammon ahoays ^o\,\io\A of Titmouse! — Old Quirk could have flung a decanter at his head. — In his own house ! -^ at his own table ! Always anticipating and circumventing him. "Mr. Quirk, I don't think we 've taken a glass of wine together yet, have we?" said Gammon , blandly and cordially, at the same time pouring one out for himself. He perfectly well knew what was annoying his respected partner, whose look of quaint embar- rassment, when so suddenly assailed, infinitely amused him. "Catch me asking you here again. Master Gammon," thought Quirk, " with Titmouse ! " The reason why Mr. Snap hat not been asked was, that Quirk had some slight cause to suspect his having presumptuously conceived the notion of paying his addresses to Miss Quirk — a thing at any lime not particularly palatable to Mr. Quirk; but in the present conjuncture of circumstances quite out of the question , and intolerable even in idea. Snap was not slow in guessing the reason of his exclusion, which had greatly morti- fied, and also not a little alarmed him. As far as he could venture, he had, during the week, endeavoured to "set" Titmouse "against" Miss Quirk, by such faint disparaging remarks and Ten Thousand a-Yenr, 1, 22 338 Insinuations as he dared venture upon witli so difficult a subject as Titmouse , whom he at the same time inflamed by representations of the splendid matches he might very soon commaud among the highest women of the land. By these means Snap had, to a certain extent, succeeded; but the few melting glances which had fallen upon Titmouse's sensitive bosom from the eyes of Miss Quirk, were beginning to operate a slight change in his feelings. The old Alderman, on an intimation that the "ladies were going to with- draw," laid violent hands on Miss Quirk, (he was a "privileged" old fool,) and insisted on her singing his favourite song — '■'■My Friend mid Pitcher" !! His request was so warmly seconded by the rest of the company — Titmouse loud and eager as any — that she was fain to comply. She sung wilh some sweetness, and much self-possession; and carried Titmouse's feelings along with her from the beginning , as Gammon , who was watching him , per- ceived. " Most uncommon lovely gal, isn't she?" whispered Titmouse, wilh great vivacity. "Very!" replied Gammon dryly, with a slight smile. "Shall I call out encore! A'n't that the word? Ton my soul, most lovely gal ! She ?«?«? sing it again ! " "No, no — she wishes to go — 't is not usual: she will sing it for you, I dare say, this evening, if you ask her." " Well — most charming gal ! — Lovely ! " — "Have patience, my dear Titmouse," said Gaoimon, in a low whisper, "in a few months' time you '11 soon be thrown into much higher life than even this — among really beautiful, and rich, and accomplished women" — [and, Place shall Have Great Pleasure (\i you please) la Marrying You From and I may (perhaps) Do Something Handsome for y''- respectable Brother and Family, w'» can Often Come to see us And Live in the Neigbourhood, if You Refuse me, Will not say What shall Happen to Those which (am Told) Owe me a Precious Long Figure w'» May (perhaps) Make a Handsome Abatement in, if You And I Hit it. "Hoping You Will Forget What Have So Much Grievi)liliv(il feeling of a portion of Ihe county , in favour of Iheir client. "Hero are several letters for you, Kale," said her brother, picking' out several of them. Tiie very lirst siie took up , it having altracted her atlention by the double seal , and the >ul^,'ar style of Ihe handwriting,', was that from Titmouse, which has jiisl been laid before the reader. With much surprise she opened the letter, lier brother bein;; similarly ennaj^ed with his own; and her face (getting gradually paler and jtaler as she went on, at length she Hung it on the floor, with a passionate air, and burst into tears. Her brother, with asloiiishmeiit , exclaimed — "Dear Kate, what is it?" and he rose and slooijcd to pick up the letter. 'Don't — don't, Charles!" she cried, pulling her foot upon it, and Hinging her arms nmnd iiis neck. ''II is an audacious letter — a vulgar, a cruel letter, dear Charles!" llcren\otion increased as ber thoughts recurred to the heartless paragraph con- cerning her brother with which the letter concluded. "I could liave ovcrU>oked every thing but l/ial," said she, unwittingly. • The general clinrarlcr of Ilic Ncwspnper Press, liolli in Loniloii iiiiil the Cdniilry, has so urciliy iininovcii ot tale ycius , as (>\illi a very few (Ifspicahlc cxccplions) (o nMidcr the a|i|icaraii('e iiow-a-days, of such a paragraph as lliat in llie lc\l, cxcfcdiiinly rare. 'I'lic IMcss is now, in niosl inslani-cs , prfsiiicii over hy educaled and nifleil i,'«"/i//fm«/i. I( was far ollii'rwixe in IS—, (ihe period named in llie text.) 355 Witli gpnlle force he succecdod in golliiifj; IioUJ of (ho painfully ridiculous and coutcmptibic clfusion. He alteni[itcd faiiilly to smile several limes as he went on. "Don'l — don't, dearest Charles! " said slie i)assionately. "I can't bear it ! — Don't smile! — It 's \ery far from your heart; you do it only to assure me ! " Mere Mr. Aubrey read the paragraph concerninj; himself. Ills face turned a lillle paler than before, and his lips quivered wilii suppressed emotion. "He is e\idently a vvri/ foolish fellow!" he exclaimed, walking towards the window, with his back to his sister, whom he did not wish to see how much he was alTecled by so petty an incident. " What does he allude to , Kale , when he talks of your having spoken angrily to him, and that he did not know you?" lie en- quired , after a few moments' pause, relurning to her. "Oh dear! — I am so grieved that you should have noticed it — hut since you ask I will not deceive you!" — and she told him the disgusling occurrence alluded to in (he letter. Mr. Aubrey drew himself up unconsciously as Kale went on, and she per- ceived him becoming still paler than before , ami /ill the kindling anger of his eye. "Forget it — forget it, dearest Charles! — So despicable a being is really not worlh Ihoughl," said Kate, with increasing anviely ; for she had never in her life before witnessed her brother ilie subject of such powerful emotions as then made rigid his slender frame. At length , drawing a long breath — "It is fortunate for him, Kate," said he calmly , "thal//<»is not a genlleman , and that I vndoin'itiir lo he — a (ihrislian." She Hung iier arms round him, exclaiming, "There spoke my own noble brother! " "I shall preserve this letter as a curiosity, Kate," said he presently and with a faint smile, and a pointed significance of manner, which arrested his sister's attention , he added, — "It is rather lingular, l^it some time before you came in, I opened a letter in which your name Is mentioned — I cannot say in a similar manner, and yet — in short, it is from Lord I>e La Zouch, pn- closing one" — • 23* 356 Miss Aubrey suddenly blushed scarlet, and trembled violently. "Don't be agitated, my dear Kate, the enclosure is from Lady De la Zouch ; and if it be in the same strain of kindness that pervades Lord De la Zouch's letter to me " — "I would rather that yo?^ opened and read it, Charles" — she faltered , sinking into a chair. "Come, come, dear Kate — play the woman!" said her brother, with an affectionate air — "To say that there is nothing in these letters that I believe will interest you— very deeply gratiiy and interest your feelings — would be " — "I know — I — I — suspect — I" — faltered Miss Aubrey with much agitation — "I shall return." "Then you shall take these letters with you, and read, or not read them , as you like," said her brother, putting them into her hand with a fond and sorrowful smile, which soon, however, flitted away — and, leading her to the door, he was once more alone; and, after a brief interval of reverie, he wrote answers to such of the many letters before him as he considered earliest to require them. Notwithstanding the judgment and tenderness with which Dr. Tatham discharged the very serious duly which , at the entreaty of his afflicted friends, he had undertaken, of breaking to Mrs. Aubrey the calamity with which she and her family were menaced, the effects of the disclosure had been most disastrous. They occasioned an attack of paralysis; and Mr. Aubrey, who had long been awaiting the issue, in sickening suspense, in an adjoining room, was hastily summoned in to behold a mournful and heart- rending spectacle. His venerable mother — she who had given him life, at the mortal peril of her own; she whom he cherished with unutterable tenderness and reverence; she who doated upon him as upon the light of her eyes; from whose dear lips he had never heard a word of unkindness or severity; whose heart had never known an impulse but of gentle, noble, unbounded gene- rosity towards all around her — this idolized being now lay sud- denly prostrated and blighted before him — Poor Aubrey yielded to his long and violent agony , in the pre- 357 sence of her who could apparently no longer hear, or see, or be sensible of what was passing in the chamber. "My son," said Dr.Tatham, after the first burst of his friend's grief was over, and he knelt down beside his mother with her hand grasped in his, "despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction : "For whom the Lord lovelh he correcteth , even as a father the son in whom he delighteth, "The Lord will not cast off for ever; "But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion ac- cording to the multitude of his mercies. "For he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men." It was with great difficulty that Dr. Talham could render him- self audible while uttering these soothing and solemn passages of Scripture in the ear of his distracted friend, beside whom he knelt. Mrs. Aubrey had suffered a paralytic seizure, and lay motion- less and insensible; her features slightly disfigured, but partially concealed beneath her long silvery grey hair, which had, in the suddeness of the fit, strayed from beneath her cap. "But what am I about?" at length exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, with a languid and alarmed air — " has medical assistance " — "Dr. Goddart and Mr. Whately are both sent for by several servants, and will doubtless be very quickly here," replied Dr. Tatham; and while he yet spoke, Mr. Whately — who, when hastened on by the servant who had been sent for him, was en- tering the park on a visit to young Mrs. Aubrey, who was also seriously ill and in peculiarly critical circumstances — entered the room, and immediately resorted to the necessary measures. Soon afterwards, also, Dr. Goddart arrived; but, alas, how little could they do for the venerable sufferer ! During the next, and for many ensuing days, the. lodge was assailed by very many anxious and sympathizing enquirers, who were answered by Waters, whom Mr. Aubrey — oppressed by the number of friends who hurried up to the Hall , and insisted upon seeing him to ascertain the extent to which the dreadful rumours 358 were correct — had stationed there during the day to afford the requisite information. The Hall was pervaded by a gloom which could he felt. Every servant had a wo-bcgone look, and moved about as if a funeral were stirring. Little Charles and Agnes, almost imprisoned in their nursery, seemed quite puzzled and confused at the strange unusual seriousness, and quietness, and melancholy faces every where about them. Kale romped not with them as had been her wont; but would constantly burst into tears as she held them on her knee or in her arms, trying to evade the continual questioning of Charles. "I think it will be time for 7;ie to cry too by-and-by ! " said he to her one day , with an air half in jest and half in earnest, that made poor Kate's tears flow afresh. Sleepless nights and days of sorrow soon told upon her appearance. Her glorious buoyancy of spirits , which erewhile , as it were, had filled the whole Hall with gladness — where were they now ! Ah, me I the rich bloom had disappeared from her beautiful cheek; but her high spirit, though oppressed, was not broken, and she stood firmfy and calmly amid the scowling skies and lowering tem- pests. You fancied you saw het auburn tresses stirred upon her pale but calm brow by the breath of the approaching storm ; and that she also felt it , but trembled not , gazing on it w ith a bright acd steadfast eye. Her heart might be, indeed, bruised and shaken; but her spirit was, ay, unconquerable. My glorious Kate, how my heart goes forth towards you ! And thou, her brother, who art of kindred spirit; who art supported by philosophy, and exalted by religion, so that thy constancy cannot be shaken or overthrown by iheblak and ominous swell of trouble which is increasing and closing around thee, I know that thou wilt outlive the storm — and yet it rocks thee ! A month or two may see thee and thine expelled from Old Yatton, and not merely having lost every thing, but with a liability to tliy successor which will hang round thy neck like a millstone. What, indeed, is to become of you all? Whither will you go? And your sulTcring mother, should she indeed survive so long, is her precious form to be borne away from Yatton? Around thee stand those who, if thou fallest, will perish — and that thou knowest: around thy calm, sorrowful, but erect 359 figure , are a nielaucholy group — thy afflicted mother — the wife of thy bosom — thy two little children — thy brave and beautiful sister — Yet tliink not. Misfortune! that over this man thou art about to achieve thy accustomed triumphs. Here, behold, thou hast a MAN to contend with; nay, more, a Christian man, who hath culmly girded up his loins against the coming fight! 'T was Sabbath evening, some five weeks or so after the hap- pening of the mournful events above commemorated, and Kate, iiiiving spent, as usual, several hours keeping watch beside the silent and motionless figure of her mother, had quitted the cham- ber for a brief interval, thinking to relieve her oppressed spirits by walking, for a little while, up and down the long gallery. Having slowly paced backwards and forwards once or twice, she rested against the little oriel window at the furthest extremity of the gallery, and gazed with saddened eye upon the setting sun, till at length, iu calm grandeur, it disappeared beneath the horizon. 'T was to Kate a solemn and mournful sign ; especially followed as it was by the deepening shadows and gloom of evening. She sighed; and with her hands crossed on her bosom, gazed, with a tearful eye, into the darkening sky, where glittered the brilliant evening star. Thus she remained, a thousand pensive and lender thoughts passing through her mind , till the increasing chills of evening warned her to retire. 'I will go,' said she to herself, as she walked slowly along, 'and try to play the evening hymn — I may not have many more opportunities!' With this view, she gently opened the drawing-room door, and, glancing around, found that she should be alone. The fire gave the only light. She opened the organ with a sigh, and then sat down be- fore it for some minutes without touching the keys. At length she struck them very gently, as if fearful of disturbing those who, she soon recollected, were too distant to hear her. Ah! how many associations were stirred up as she played over the simple and solemn air! At length, in a low and rather tremulous voice, she began — "Soon will the evening star, with silver ray, Shed lis milil radiance o'er llie sacred day; Kesiime we, tlien, ere ni^lil and silence reign, The riles which holiness and Heaven ordain" — 360 She sang the last line somewhat indistiuctly; and, overcome by a flood of tender recollections, ceased playing; then, leaning her head upon her* hand, she shed tears. At length she re- sumed — "Here humljly lei us hope our Maker's smile Will crown wilh sweet success our earthly toil — And here, on each returning Sabbath, join" — Here poor Kale's voice quivered — and after one or two inef- fectual attempts to sing the next line, she sobbed, and ceased playing. She remained for several minutes, her face buried in her handkerchief, shedding tears. At length, ' I '11 play the last verse,' thought she, 'and then sit down before the fire, and read over the evening sersice, (feeling for her little prayer-book,) before I return to poor mamma ! ' With a firmer hand and voice she pro- ceeded — "Father of Heaven ! in whom our hopes confide , Whose power defends us , and whose precepts guide — In life our guardian, and in death our friend , Glory supreme be thine, till time shall end." She played and sang these lines with a kind of solemn energy ; and she felt as if a ray of heavenly light had trembled for a moment upon her upturned eye. She had not been , as she had supposed, alone; in the furthest corner of the room had been all the while sitting her brother — too exquisitely touched by the simplicity and goodness of his sweet sister, to apprize her of his presence. Several times his feelings had nearly overpowered him; and as she concluded, he arose from his chair, and approaching her, after her first surprise was over, — "Heaven bless you, dear Kate!" said he, taking her hands in his own. Neither of them spoke for a few moments. "I could not have sung a line , or played , if I had known that you were here," said she, tremulously. "I thought so, Kate, and therefore I remained silent " — "I don't think I shall ever have heart to play again !" she re- plied — they were both silent. "Be assured, Kate, that submission to the will of God," said Mr. Aubrey, as (he with his arm round his sister) they walked i 3G1 slowly to and fro, "is the great lesson to be learned from the troubles of life ; and for that purpose they are sent. Let us bear up a while ; the waters will not go over our heads ! " "I hope not," replied his sister faintly, and in tears. "How did you leave Agnes, Charles?" "She was asleep: she is still very feeble" — Here the door was suddenly opened, and Miss Aubrey's maid entered hastily, exclaiming, "Are you here, IMa'am? — or Sir?" "Here we are," they replied, hurrying towards her; "what is the matter?" "Oh, Madam is talking! She began speaking all of a sudden. She did, indeed. Sir. She 's talking, and" — continued the girl, almost breathless. "My mother talking!" exclaimed Aubrey, with an amazed air. " Oh yes, Sir ! she is — she is, indeed ! " Miss Aubrey sank into her brother's arms, overcome for a moment with the sudden and surprising intelligence. "Rouse yourself, Kate!" he exclaimed with animation; "did I not tell you that Heaven would not forget us? But I must hasten up-stairs, to hear the joyful sounds with my own ears — and do you follow as soon as you can." Leaving her in the care of her maid, he hastened out of the room, and was soon at the door of his mother's chamber. He stood for a moment in the doorway, and his straining ears caught the gentle tones of his mother's voice, speaking in a low but cheerful tone. His knees trembled beneath him with joyful excitement. Fearful of trusting himself in her presence till he had become calmer, he noiselessly sank on the nearest chair, with beating heart and straining ear — ay, every tone of that dear voice thrilled through his heart. But I shall not torture myself or my reader by dwelling upon the scene which ensued. Alas! the venerable suflerer's tongue was indeed loosed ; — but reason had fled ! He listened — he distinguished her words. She supposed that all her children — dead and alive — were romping about her: she spoke of him and his sister as she had spoken to them twenty years ago? As soon as he had made this woful discovery, overwhelmed with grief, he staggered out of the room ; and motioning his sister, 362 who was entering, into an adjoining apartment, communicated to her, with great agitation, the lamentable condition of their mother. CHAPTER XII. The chief corner-stone suddenly found wanting in the glitter- ing of Mr. Titmouse's fortune, so that, to the eyes of its startled architects, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, it seemed mo- mentarily threatening to tumble about their ears, was a certain piece of evidence which, being a matter-of-fact man, I should like to explain to the reader, before we gel on any further. In order, however, to do this effectually, I must go back to an earlier period in the history than has been yet called to his attention. I make no doubt, that by the superficial and impatient ??ove/-reader, certain portions of what has gone before, and which could not fail of attracting the attention of long-headed people as not likely to have been thrown in for nothing, (and therefore requiring to be borne in mind with a view to subsequent explanation,) have been entirely overlooked or forgotten. However this may be, I can fancy that the sort of reader whom / have in my eye , as one whose curiosity it is worth some pains to excite, and sustain, has more than once asked himself the following question, viz. — How did Messrs. Quirk, Gammon , and Snap , first come to be acquainted with the precarious tenure by which Mr. Aubrey held the Yatton property? — Why, it chanced in this wise. Mr. Parkinson of Grilston, who has been already introduced to the reader, had succeeded to his father's first-rale business as a country attorney and solicitor in Yorkshire. He was a highly honourable , painstaking man , and deservedly enjoyed the entire confidence of all his numerous and influential clients. Some twelve years before the period at which this history commences, he had, from pure kindness, taken into his service an orphan boy of the name of Steggars, at first merely as a sort of errand- boy, and to look after the olTice. He soon , however, displayed so much sharpness, and acquitted himself so (Creditably in any hing that he happened to be concerned in, a little above the 363 run of his ordinary duties, that in the course of a year or two he became a sort of clerk, and sat and wrote at the desk it had formerly beeu his sole province to dust. Hij,'her and higher did he rise, in process of time, in his master's estimation ; and at length became quite a factotum — as such, acquainted with the whole course of business that passed through the oflice. Many inter- esting matters connected with the circumstances and connexions of the neighbouring nobility and gentry were thus constantly brought under his notice, and now and then set him thinking whether the knowledge thus acquired could not, in some way, and at some time or another, be turned to his own advantage; for I am sorry to say that he was utterly unworthy of the kindness and conlidence of Mr. Parkinson, who little thought that in Steggars he had to deal with — a rogue in grain. Such being liis character, and such his opportunities, this worthy had long made a practice of miiiuling down, from time to time, any thing of interest or importance in the affairs of his betrayed master's clients — even laboriously copying long documents, when he thought them of importance enough for his purpose, and had the opportunity of doing so without attracting the attention of Mr. Parkinson. He thus silently acquired a mass of information which might have enabled him to occasion great annoyance, and even inflict serious injury; and the precise object he had in view, was either to force himself, hereafter, info partnership with his employer, (provided he could get regularly introduced into the profession,) or even compel his master's clients to receive him into their confidence, adversely to Mr. Parkinson ; and mnke it worth his while to keep the secrets of w hich he had become possessed. So careful ought to be, and indeed generally are, attorneys and solicitors, as to Ilie characters of those whom they thus receive into their employ. On the occasion of Sir. Aubrey's intended marriage with Miss St. Clair, with a view to the very liberal settlements which he conten)plaled, a full "Abstract" of his "Title" was laid by I\Ir. Parkinson before his conveyancer, in order to advise, and to prepare the necessary instruments. Owing to enquiries sug- gested by the conveyancer, additional slatcmonts were laid be- fore him; and produced an opinion of a somewhat unsatisfactory 364 description , from which I shall lay before the reader the following paragraph: — "*** There seems no reason for supposing that any descen- dant of Stephen Dreddlinglon is now in existence:* still, as it is by no means physically impossible that such a person may be in esse, it would unqueslionably be most important to the security of Mr. Aubrey's title, to establish clearly the validity of the con- veyance by way of mortgage, executed by Harry Dreddlington, and which was afterwards assigned to Geoffry Dreddlington on his paying off the money borrowed by his deceased uncle: since the descent of Mr. Aubrey from Geoffry Dreddlington would, in that event, clothe him with an indefeasible title at law, by virtue of that deed; and any equitable rights which were originally out- standing, would be barred by lapse of time. But the difficulty occurring to my mind on this part of the case is, that unless Harry Dreddlington, who executed that deed of mortgage, survived his father, (a point on which I am surprised that I am furnished with no information,) the deed itself would have been mere waste parchment, as in reality the conveyance of a person who Tiever had any interest in the Yatton property — and, of course, neither Geoffry Dreddlington, nor his descendant Mr. Aubrey, could derive any right whatever under such an instrument. In that case, such a contingency as I have above hinted at — I mean the existence of any legitimate descendant of Stephen Dreddlington — viight have a most serious effect upon the rights of Mr. Aubrey." Now every line of this opinion, and also even of the Abstract of Title upon which it was written, did this quick-sighted young scoundrel copy out, and deposit, as a great prize, in his desk, among other similar notes and memoranda, little wotting his master, the while, of what his clerk was doing. Some year or two afterwards, the relationship subsisting between Mr. Parkin- son and his clerk Steggars, was suddenly determined by a some- what untoward event; viz. by the latter's decamping with the sum of :t 700 sterling, being the amount of money due on a mortgage * Before perusing Ihis opinion, The reader should refer to the pedi- gree, iiost 371; without which the opinion will not be fully understood. 365 which he had been sent lo receive from a client of Mr. Parkinson's. Steggars fled for it — but first having bethought himself of the do- cuments to which I have been alluding, and which he carried with him to London. Hot pursuit was made after the enterprising Mr. Steggars, who was taken into custody two or three days after his arrival in town, while he was walking about the streets, with the whole of the sum which he had embezzled, jnimis a few pounds, upon his person, in hank-noles. He was quickly de- posited in Newgate. His natural sagacity assured him that his case was rather an ugly one ; but hope did not desert him. "Well, my kiddy," said Grasp, the grim-visaged, grey-headed turnkey, as soon as he had ushered Steggars into his snug little quarters; "here you are, you see ^ isn't you?" "I think I am," replied Steggars, with a sigh. " Well — and if you want to have a chance of not going across the water afore your time, you 'II get yourself r/e/ewrfe(/, and the sooner the better d'ye see. Thcva's, Quirk, Gammoji, and Snap — my eyes ! how they do thin this here place of ours , to be sure ! The only thing is to get 'em soon; 'cause, ye see, they 're so run after. Shall I send them to you?" Steggars answered eagerly in the aflirmative. In order to ac- count for this spontaneous good-nature on the part of Grasp, I must explain that old Mr. Quirk had for years secured a highly re- spectable criminal practice, by having in his interest most of the officers attached to the police-offices and Newgate. He gave, in fact, systematic gratuities to these gentry, in order lo get their recommendations to the persecuted individuals who came into their power. Very shortly alter Grasp's messenger had reached Saffron Hill , with the intelligence that "there was somd/ii/ig- new in the Imp," old Quirk bustled down to Newgate, and was intro- duced lo Steggars, with whom he was closeted for some time. He took a lively interest in his new client, to whose narrative of his flight and capture he listened in a very kind and sympathizing way, lamenting the severity of the late statute applicable lo the case;* and promised to do for him whatever his little skill and experience * See the iiole on page 307. 366 eo7dd do. He hinted however, that, as Mr. Steggars must be aware, a little ready money would be required, in order to fee counsel — whereat Steggars looked very dismal indeed , and knowing the state of his exchequer, imagined himself already on shipboard, on his way to Botany Bay. Old l\lr. Quirk asked him if he had no friends who would raise a trifle for a "chum in trouble," — and on Mr. Steggars answering in the negative, he observed the enthusiasm of the respectable old gentleman visibly and rapidly cooling down. "But I '11 tell you what, Sir," said. poor Steggars suddenly, "if I haven't money , I may have money's xvorth at my command ; — I 've a little box, that 's at my lodging, which those that catched me knew nothing of — and in which there is a trifle or two about the families and fortunes of some of the first folk in the best part of Yorkshire, that would be precious well worth looking after, to those who know hojv to follow up such matters." Old Quirk hereat pricked up his ears, and asked his young friend how he got possessed of such secrets. "Oh fie! fie!" said he gently, as soon as Steggars had told him the practices of which I have already put the reader in pos- session. "Ah — you may say fie! fie! if you like," qiioth Steggars earnestly; "but the thing is, not how they were come by, but what can be done with them, now they 're got. For example, there 's a certain member of parliament in Yorkshire, that, high as he may hold his head, has no more right to the estates that yield him a good ten thousand a-year than I have , but keeps some folk out of their ow n , that could pay some other folk a round sum to be put in the way of getting their own;" and that — intimated the suffering captive — was only one of the good things he knew of. Here old Quirk rubbed his chin , hemmed , fidgeted about in his seat, took off his glasses, wiped them, replaced them; and presently went through that ceremony again. He then said that he had had the honour of being concerned for a great number of gentlemen in Mr. Steggars' "present embarrassed circumstan- ces," but who had always been able to command at least a five- pound note , at starting , to run a heat for liberty. 367 "Come, come, old gentleman," quolh Sleggars earnestly, "I don't want to go over the water before my lime, if I can help it, I assure you; and I see you know the value of what I 've got! Such a gentleman as you can turn every bit of paper I have in my box into a lifty-pound note." "All this is moonshine, my young friend," said old Quirk in an irresolute lone and manner. "Ah! is it, though. To be able to tell the owner of a fat ten thousand a-year , that you can spring a mine under his feet at any moment — eh? — and no one ever know how you came by your knowledge. And if they wouldn't do what was handsome, couldn't you gel the right hei'j' — and wouldn't that — Lord ! itwould make the fortunes of half-a-dozen of the first houses in the profession ! " Old Quirk got a little excited. "But mind. Sir — you see" — said Stcggars, "if I get off, I 'm not to be cut out of the thing altogether — eh ? I shall look to be taken into your employ, and dealt handsomely by" — "Oh Lord! " exclaimed Quirk involuntarily — adding quickly, "Yes, yes! to be sure! only fair; but let us first get you out of your present difTiculty, you know!" Steggars, having first exacted from him a written promise to use his utmost exertions on his (Steggars') behalf, and secure him the services of two of the most eminent Old Railcy counsel — viz. Mr. Bluster and Mr. Slang — gave Mr. Quirk the number of the house where the precious box was, and a written order to the landlord to deliver it up to the bearer: after which Mr. Quirk shook him cordially by the hand, and having quitted the prison, made his way straight to the house in question, and succeeded in obtaining what he asked for. He failhfuily performed his agreement with Steggars; for he retained bolli Bluster and Slang for him, and got up their briefs with care: but, alas! although these eminent men exerted all their great powers, they succeeded not in cither bothering the judge, bam- boozling the jury, or browbeating the witnesses, (the principal one of whom was Mr. Parkinson ; ) Steggars was found guilty and sentenced to be transported for fourteen years.* Enraged at this • Till within a few years before the period in quesliDn, the Inw of England regarded the act done by Mr. Steggars as amounting only to a ' S68 issue , he sent a message the next day to Mr. Quirk , requesting a visit from him. When he arrived, Steggars, in a very violent tone, demanded that his papers should be returned to him. 'T was in vain that Mr. Quirk explained to him again and again his interesting position with reference to his goods, chattels, and effects — i. e. that, as a convicted felon, he had no further con- cern with them , and might dismiss all anxiety on that score from his mind. Steggars hcreat got more furious than before, and inti- mated plainly the course he should feel it his duty to pursue — viz. that, if the papers in question were not given up to him as he de- sired, he should at once write off to his late employer, Mr. Par- kinson, and acknowledge how much more he (Steggars) had "wronged that gentleman and his clients, than he supposed of. Old Quirk very feelingly represented to him that he was at liberty to do any thing that he thought calculated to relieve his excited feelings : and then Mr. Quirk took a final farewell of his client , wishing him health and happiness. "I say. Grasp!" said he, in a whisper, to that grim function- ary, as soon as he had secured poor Steggars in his cell, "that bird is a little ruffled just now — isn't he, think you?" "Lud, Sir, the nat'ralist thing in the world , considering'' — "Well — if he should want a letter taken to any one, whatever he may say to the contrary, you 'U send it on to Saffron Hill — eh? Understand? — He may be injuring himself, you know ; " and old Quirk with one hand clasped the huge arm of Grasp in a familiar way, and with the forefinger of the other touched his own nose, and then winked his eye. "AH right!" quoth Grasp, and they parted. Within avery breach of trust , and consequently subjecting him to no fm«i/iff7 liabi- lity; on the ground that the L. 700 never having been attualltj in his master's possession, could not he the subject o\ a felonious taking. The alarming consequences of this doctrine led to the passing of slat. 39. Geo. III. c. 85, [passed on the 12ih July 1799,] which declared such an act of embezzlement to be felony, punishable with fourteen years' trans- portation: this was lately repealed, but re-enacted bv stat. 7 and 8. Geo. IV. c. 29, §.47, [passed on the 21st June 1827,] on"^ the occasion of consolidating that branch of the criminal law. — See4, Coleridge's filackst. Comment, p. 231 (note). a 369 few hours' time, Mr. Quirk received , by the hand of a trusty mes- senger, from Grasp, a letter written by Steggars to Mr. Parkinson; a long and eloquent letter, to the purport and ellect which Steg- gars had intimated. Mr. Quirk read it with much satisfaction, for it disclosed a truly penitent feeling, and a desire to undo as much mischief as the writer had done. He (Mr. Q)uirk) was not in the least exasperated by certain very plain terms in which his own name was mentioned; but making all due allowances, quietly put the letter in the fire as soon as he had read it. In due time Mr. Steg- gars, whose health had sutl'ered from close confinement, caught frequent whiffs of the fresh sea-breeze, having set out, under most favourable auspices, for Botany Bay; to which distant but happy place, he had been thus fortunate in early securing an '■'appointment" for so considerable a portion of his life. Such, then, were the miserable means by which Mr. Quirk became acquainted with the exact state of Mr. Aubrey's title : on first becoming apprised of which, Mr. Gammon either felt, or affected, great repugnance to taking any part in the affair. He appeared to suffer himself, at length, however, to be over-per- suaded by Quirk into acquiescence; and, that point gained — having ends in view of which Mr. Quirk had not the lc;isi concep- tion, and which, in fact, had but suddenly occurred to Mr. Gammon himself — worked his materials with a caution, skill, energy, and perseverance, which soon led to important results. Guided by the suggestions of acute and experienced counsel, after much pains and considerable expense , they had succeeded in dis- covering that precious specimen of humanity , Tittlebat Titmouse, who hath already figured so prominently in this history. When (hey came to set down on paper the result of all their researchesand enquiries , in order to submit it in the shape of a case for the opi- nion of Mr. Mortmain and Mr. Frankpledge, in the manner de- scribed in a former part of this history, it looked perfect on paper, as many a faulty pedigree and abstract of title had looked before, and will yet look. It was quite possible for even Mr.Tresayle him- self to overlook the defect which had been pointed out by Mr. Subtle. That which is slated to a conveyancer, as a fact— any particular event, for instance, as of a death, a birth, or a mar- Ten TJioiisimd a-Yenr. I, »4 370 riage, at a particular time or place, which the very nature of the case renders highly probable — he is warranted in assuming to be so. But when the same statement comes — with quite a different object — under the experienced eye of a Jiisi yriiis lawyer, who knows that he will have io prove his case, step by step, the aspect of things is soon changed. "De non apparent ibtis , et de non existentibus " sailhthelaw, "eadem est ratio." The first prac- titioner in the common law, before whom the case came, in its roughest and earliest form, in order that he might "lick it iiilo shape,". and "advise generally" preparatory to its "being laid before counsel," was Mr. Traverse, a young pleader, whom Messrs. Quirk and Gammon were disposed to take by the hand. He wrote a very show y , but superficial and delusive opinion ; and put the intended p'o/e'ige of his clients, as it were by a kind of hop, step , and jump, into possession of the Yatton estates. Quirk was quite delighted on reading it; but Gammon shook his head with a somewhat sarcastic smile, and said he would at once prepare a case for the opinion of Mr. Lynx, whom he had pitched upon as the junior counsel in any proceedings which might be instituted in a court of law. Lynx (of whom I shall speak hereafter) was an experienced, hard-headed, vigilant, and accurate lawyer; the very man for such a case, requiring, as it did, most patient and minute examination. With an eye fitted " To inspect a mite , not comprehend the Heaven ," he craided, as it were, over a case; and thus, even as one can imagine that a beetle creeping over the floor of St. Paul's, would detect minute flaws and fissures invisible to the eye of Sir Chris- topher Wren himself, spied out defects which much nobler optics would have overlooked. To come to plain matter-of-fact, however, I have beside me the original opinion written by Mr. Lynx; and shall treat the reader to a taste of it — giving him sufficient to enable him to appreciate the very ticklish position of affairs with Mr. Titmouse. To make it not altogether unintelligible, let us suppose the state of the pedigree to be something like this , (as far as concerns our present purpose :) — 371 (Drkddlington.) (Ilarrj Dreddliiigton.) (Charles Dreddlinglon.) (Slepben Dreddlinglon.) (Geoffry Dreddlinglon.) (A female descendant marries Gahriel Titthbut Titmouse , through whom TlTTLRBAT TlTMOU.SK claims.) (A female descendant marries Chari.ks AiiiRKY, Esq., father of the present possessor.) Be pleased now, unlearned reader, to bear in mind that " Dred(/li7igloJi," at the lop oi the above table, is the common ancestor, ha\ing two sons, the elder "Harry Dreddlington," the younger ''(.'harlvs Dreddlinglon;'' the latter having, in like manner, two sons, " Slaij/wn Dreddlingio7i" ihe c\dcT sod, and " Oenjf'ry Dreddlington" the younger son; that Mr. Aubrey, at present in possession, claims under ^'Geoffry Dreddlington." Now it will be incumbent on Mr. Titmouse, in the first instance, to establish in himself a clear, independent, legal, and posses- sory title to the estates; it being suilicient for Mr. Aubrey , (pos- session being nine-tenths of the law,) to falsify Titmouse's proofs, or show them defective — "because," saith a very learned ser- geant, who hath writ a text-book upon the Action of Ejectment, "the plainlilf in an action of ejectment must recover upon the strength of his own title, not the weakness of his adversary's."* * The popular maxim, Ihal " possession is nine-tenths of the law," is founded on the salutary and reasonable doelrine of the law, that the party j« />o»ie».f his rMrst son (Harry) took place prior or subsequent to that period. It is to be feared that Ihe defendant may be in possession of some boiler and more direct evidence on this point than is atlainable by the lessor of the plaintiir. The natural presumption would certainly seem to be, that the son, bein;; the younger and stronscrmao, was the survivor."* • Lynx is here glancing at a rule of the lloman law on a point o( greai diffieultv, inlcrcsl, and iiiiporlance - i. «•.. ■wIiit.- i«o (uT»on» above Itie af;c' of puberty perished by the same arcidcnl. Um- youncrr was presumed to have beien the siirvi\or; biii if one was imrlrr ihe .n.-e of puberlv, Ihe other was presumed lo ha\e lieeu the sur>i\or. — (Dii?. lib. 34, lit. 5, §§ U, 2-i, '23.; It is very curious to see how this question is dealt with in modern times. The Code Civile (in France) .idjiisis the preMinip- lion lo specinc perioils of life. IT those who perished nere all ""J'"' ''^ vears of age, the eldest is presumed lo ha>e sur\i\ed; if all abo^r 60 years, the voungesl. If some under IS. and others abo>e fi", ibe forni all l]-'l['\'^:**";iPl"; ment, and the heir of each immedialely siicc U. The 'lyj'"''^ "' '*' case arises, of course, from ihc circumstance of there beme oo evidence 374 The above-mentioned opinion of Mr. Lynx, together with that of Mr. Subtle entirely corroborating it, (and which was alluded to in a late chapter of this history, *) and a pedigree , were lying on the table, one day, at the office at Saffron Hill, before the anxious and perplexed partners, Messrs, Quirk and Gammon. Gammon was looking attentively , and with a very chagrined air, at the pedigree; and Quirk was looking at Gammon. "Now, Gammon, said the former, "just let me see again where the exact hitch is — eh? You '11 think me perhaps infernally stupid , but — curse me if I can see it ! " "See it, my dear Sir? Here, here!" replied Gammon with sudden impatience, putting his finger two or three times to the words "Harry D." "Lord bless us! Don't be so sharp with one, Gammon! [ know as well as you that that 's aboiit where the crack is ; but what is the precise thing we 're in want of, eh ? " "Proof, my dear Sir," replied Gammon, somewhat impa- tiently, but with a smile, "of the death of Harry Dreddlington some time — no matter when — previous to the 7lh August 174*2 ; and in default thereof, Mr. Quirk, we are all flat on our backs, and had better never have stirred in the business^ " "You know, Gammon, you 're better up in these matters than I — (because I 've not been able to turn my particular attention ■whatever as to llie nctual fact of survivorship. Our English law has not adopted any definite rule on the subject, but leans in favour of iho sur- vivorship of the parly possessed of the property in dispute; and some regard seems to be had to the probability of the survivorsnip of the stronger party. Several very interesting cases of this fund have arisen in this country; and, generally spealiing, our courts appear to have re- quired some evidence of llie fuel. A singular case occurred in Queen Elizabeth's time, (1596.) Faliier and son were hanged at the same time, iu one cart; being joint tenants of property, whicli, on their death , was to go to the soil's heirs. According to one report (Noy) ih^ father's feet were seen moving after the son's death ; but other witnesses swore to the son's "shalis widow was therefore Ireld entitled to her dower! — (Hroi/g/iton v. RimdaU, Cro. EL, p. 502.) * Chapter X. ,««<<", p. 34C. 375 to 'em since I first began business) — so just lell nic, in a word, what good 's to be got by showing that fellow to have died in bis father's lifetime?" "You don't show your usual acuteness, Mr. ^Juirk," replied Ganiiuon blandly. " It is to make waste paper of ihal confounded conveyance which he executed, and which Mr. Aubrey douhile^s has, and with which he may, at a stroke, cut the ground from uuder our feet!" "The very thought makes one feel quite funny — don't it, Gammon?" quoth Quirk, with a flustered air. "It may well do so, Mr. Quirk. Now we are fairly embarked in a cause where success will be atlended with so many splendid results, Mr. Quirk — though I 'm sure you '11 always bear me out in saying how very unwilling I was to take advantage of the villany of that miscreant Steg — hem" — "Gammon, Gammon, you 're always harking back to thai — I 'ni tired of hearing on "tl " interrupted Quirk atjgrily, but v^itli an embarrassed air. "Well, now we 're in it," said Gammon, vviihasiKh. and shrugging his shoulders. "I don't see why we should allow our- selves to be baffled by trifles. The plain question is. undoubt- edly, whether we are to stand still — or go on." Mr. Quirk pazed at Mr. Gammon with an anxious and puzzled look, "How d'ye make out — in a legal way, you know. Gammon — when a man died — I mean , of a natural death?" somewhat mys- teriously enquired Quirk, who was familiar enoujih with ihr means of proving the exact hour of certain violent deaths at Debtor's Door. "Oh! there are various metliods of doing so, my dear Sir," replied Gammon carelessly. "Entries In family bibles and prayer-books — registers — tombstones — ay. by liic way. an OLD TOMBSTONE," coutinucd G.uiimon musiiii-'Iv , ••ili.il would settle the business!" "An old tombstone!" echoed Quirk hri-kly. hut Mia.l.nl; dropping his voice, "Lord, C.ammoii. s" il wuld! Th.il '* an idea! — I call Ih.nl a decided idea , Gammon. T would be ihc very thing!" 376 "The \ery thing!" repealed Gammon , pointedly. They re- mained silent for some moments. "Snap could not have looked about him sharply enoujj;h , when he was down at Yatlon — could he, Gammon?" at length ob- served Quirk in a low tone , flushing all over as he uttered the last words , and felt Gammon's cold grey eye settled on him like that ol a snake. "He could not, indeed, my dear Sir," replied Gammon, while Quirk continued gazing earnestly at him, now and then wriggling about in his chair, rubbing his chin, and drumming with his lingers on the table. — "And now that you 've suggested the thing, [oh. Gammon! Gammon!] — it 's not to be wondered at ! — You know, it would have been an old tombstone — a sort of fragment of a tombstone, perhaps — so deeply sunk in the ground, probably, as easily to have escaped observation. Eh? — Does not it strike yoM so, Mr. Quirk?" All this was said by Gammon in a musing manner, and in a very low tone of voice; and he was delighted to find his words sinking into the eager and fertile mind of his companion. "Ah, Gammon!" exclaimed Quirk , with a sound of partly a sigh, and partly a whistle, (the former being the exponent of the /r?/e state of his feelings, i.e., anxiety — the latter of what he wished to appear the state of his feelings, i. c, indifference. ) "Yes, Mr. Quirk?" "You 're a deep devil. Gammon — I ?y/// say that for you ! " replied Quirk , glancing towards each door, and, as it were, un- consciously drawing his chair a little closer to that of Gammon. "Nay, mydearSir!" said Gammon, with a deferential and deprecating smile, "you give me credit for an acuteness I feel I do not possess! If, indeed, I had not had ?/o?/r sagacity to rely upon, ever since I have had the honour of being connected with you in business — ah, Mr. Quirk, you know you lead — I follow" — "Gammon, Gammon!" interrupted Quirk, with an uncom- fortable, but still a mollified air. "Come — your name 's Oily" — "In moments like these, Mr. Quirk, I say nothing that I do not feel," interrupted Gammon gravely, putting to his nose the 377 least modicum of snuff wliich he could (ake with llie lip of his finger out of the Imjie box of Mr. (Juiik, who, just llien , was thrusting immense pinches, every half minulc, up his nostrils. 'It will cost a great deal ofmonejlolind that same loinhslonc. Gammon!" said Quirk, in almost a whisper, and paused, look- ing intently at Gammon. "I think this is a dilTerent kind of snuff from that which jou usually take, Mr. Quirk, isntit?" enquired (iammon , as he in- serted the tips of his lingers a second time into tiie mechnnically proffered box of Mr. Quirk. "The same — the same ," replied Quirk hastily. "You are a man belter filled for serious emergencies, Mr. Quirk, than any man I ever came near," said Gammon deferen- tially ; "I perceive that you have hit the nail on the head, as indeed you always do ! " "Tut! Stuff, Gammon; you 're every bit as good a hand as lam!" replied Quirk, with an evident mixture of pleasure anery fidgety, and twirled his watch-key violently. 378 «iccs rendrrcd both to themselves and to their friends. One of ihcm, in par- ticular, had a painful consciousness that it was in old Mr. Quirks power at any time, by a whisper, to place his — the aforesaid Israelite's — neck in an unsightly noose which c^ery now and then might be seen dangling from a beam opposite Debtor's Door, Newgate, about eight o'clock in the morning; him. there- 382 fore, every consideration of interest and of gratitude combined to render subservient to the reasonable wishes of Mr. Quirk. He was a most ingenious little fellow, and had a great taste for the imitative arts — so strong in fact, that it had once or twice placed him in some jeopardy with the Goths and Vandals of the law; who characterized the noble art in which he excelled, by a very ugly and formidable word, and annexed the most barbarous penalties to its practice. What passed between him and old Quirk on the occasion of their interviews, I know not; but one afternoon, the latter, on returning to his office, without saying any thing to any body, having bolted the door, took out of his pocket several little pieces of paper, containing pretty little pic- turesque devices of a fragmentary character, with antique letters and figures on them — crumbling pieces of stone, some looking more and some less sunk in the ground, and overgrown with grass; possibly they were designs for ornaments to be added to that tasteful structure, Alibi House — possibly intended to grace Miss Quirk's album. However this might be, after he had looked at them, and carefully compared them one with another, for some time, he folded them up in a sheet of paper, sealed it — with certainly not the steadiest hand in the world — and then deposited it in an iron safe. CHAPTER XIII. Yatton , the recovery of which was the object of these secret and formidable movements and preparations, not to say machi- iiMiions, was all this while the scene of deep affliction. The lamentable condition of his mother plunged Mr. Aubrey, his wife and sister, into profounder grief than had been occasioned by the calamity which menaced them all in common. Had he been alone, he would have encountered the sudden storm of ad- versity with unshrinking, nay cheerful firmness; but could it be so, when he had ever before him those whose ruin was involved in his own? — Poor Mrs. Aubrey, his wife, having been two or three weeks confined to her bed, during which time certain fond hopes of her husband had been blighted , was almost over- 383 powered, when, languid and feeble, supported by Mr. Aubrey and Kate, she first entered the bed-room of the venerable sufferer. What a difference, indeed, was there between tlie appearance of all of them at that moment, and on the Christmas day when, a happy group, they were cheerfully enjoying the festivities of the season! Kate was now pale, and somewhat thinner; her beau- tiful features exhibited a careworn expression ; yd there was a serene lustre in her blue eye, and a composed resolution in her air, which bespoke the superiority of her soul. What had it not cost her to bear with any semblance of self-possession , or forti- tude, the sad spectacle now presented by her mother! What a tender and vigilant nurse was she, to one who could no longer be sensible of, or appreciate her attentions! How that sweet girl humoured all her venerated and suffering parent's little eccentricities and occasional excitement, and accommodated her- self to every varying phasis of her mental malady ! She had so schooled her sensibilities and feelings, as to be able to maintain perfect cheerfulness and composure in her mother's presence, on occasions which forced her brother to turn aside with an eye of agony — overcome by some touching speech or wayward action of the unconscious sufferer, who constantly imagined herself, poor soul! to be living over again her early married life; and that in her little grandchildren she beheld Ulr, Aubrey and Kate as in their childhood! She would gently chide Mr. Aubrey, her hus- band, for his prolonged absence, asking many times a day whether he had returned from London. Every morning old Jacob Jones was shown into her chamber, at the hour at which he had been accustomed, in happier days, to attend upon her. The faithful old man's eyes would be blinded with tears, and his voice choked, as he was asked how Peggy got over her yesterday's journey; and listened to questions, messages, and directions, which had been familiar to him twenty years before, about villagers and tenants who had long lain mouldering in their humble graves — their way thither cheered and smoothed by Mrs. Aubrey's Christian charily and benevolence ! 'T was a touching sight to see her two beanlifnl grandchildren, in whose company she delighted, brought, with a timorous and half-reluctant air, into her presence. How strange Q 84 must have seemed to them the cheerfulness of the motionless figure always lying in the bed ; a cheerfulness which, though gentle as genile could be, yetsuRiced not to assure the little things, or set them at their ease. Though her mild features ever smiled upon them, still 't was from a prostrate figure, which never moved, and was always surrounded by mournful persons, with sorrowful con- straint in their countenances and gestures! Charles would stand watching her, with apprehensive eye — the finger of one hand raised to his lip, while his other retained the hand which had brought him in, as if fearful of ils quilting hold of him; the few words he could be brought to speak were in a subdued tone and hurried utterance : — and when , having been lifted up to kiss his grandmamma, he and his sister were taken out of the chamber, their little breasts would heave a sigh which showed how sensibly they were relieved from their recent constraint ! How wofully changed was every thing in the once cheerful old Hall! Mr. Aubrey sitting in the library, intently engaged upon books and papers — Mrs. Aubrey and Kale now and then , arm in arm, walking slowly up and down the galleries, or one of the rooms, or the hall, not with their former sprightly gaiely, but pensive, and often in tears, and then returning to the chamber of their suffering parent. All this was sad work, indeed, and seemed, as it were, to herald coming desolation ! But little variation occurred , for several weeks , in the condi- tion of Mrs. Aubrey, except that she grew visibly feebler. One morning, however, about six weeks after her seizure, from certain symptoms, the medical men intimated their opinion that some important change was on the eve of taking [ilace, for which they prepared the family. She had been very restless during the nighl. After frequent intervals of uneasy sleep , she would awake with evident surprise and bewilderment. Sometimes a peculiar smile would nit over her emaciated features; at others, they would be ♦jvercast with gloom, and she would seem struggling to suppress tears. Her voice, too, when she spoke, was feeble and tremulous ; and she would sigh , and shake her head mournfully. Old Jacob Jones, not being introduced at the accustomed hour, she asked for him. When he made his appearance , she gazed at hira for 3 385 nionient or two, with a perplexed eye, exclaiming, "Jacob! Jacob! is it you?" in a very low tone; and then she closed her eyes, apparently falling asleep. Thus passed the day ; her daughter and daughter-in-law sitting on either side of the bed , where they had so long kept their anxious and affectionate vigils — Mr. Aubrey sitting at the foot of the bed — and Dr. Goddart and Mr. Whate- ley in frequent attendance. Towards the evening, Dr. Talham also, as had been his daily custom through her illness, appeared, and in a low tone read over the service for the visitation of the sick. Shortly afterwards Mr. Aubrey was obliged to quit the chamber, in order to attend to some very pressing matters of business; and he had been engaged for nearly an hour, intending almost every moment to return to his mother's chamber, when Dr. Talham entered, as Mr. Aubrey was subscribing his name to a letter, and, with a little earnestness, said — " Come, my friend , let us return to your mother; methinks she is on the eve of some decisive change: the issue is wilh God!" Within a very few moments they were both at the bedside of Mrs. Aubrey. A large chamber- lamp, standing on a table at the further end of the room, diffused a soft light , rendering visible at a glance the silent and sad group collected round the bed, all with their eyes directed towards the venerable figure who lay upon it. Mr. Aubrey sat beside his wife close to his mother; and taking her while emaciated hand into his own, gently raised it to his lips. She seemed dozing: but his action appeared to rouse her for a moment. Presently she fixed her eye upon him — Its expression, the while, slowly but per- ceptibly changing, and exciting strange feelings within him. He trembled, and removed not his eye from hers. He turned very pale — for the whole expression of his mother's countenance, which was turned full towards him , was changing. Through the clouded windows of (he falling fabric, behold! its long-imprisoned tenant, the soul, had arisen from its torpor, and was looking at him. Reason was re-appearing. It was, indeed, his mother, and in her right mmd, that was gazing at him. He scarcely breathed. At length surprise and apprehension yielded before a gush of tenderness and love. "Wilh what an unutterable look was his mother at that moment regarding him! His lip quivered — his Ten TJioiisttfid fi-YeuT. 1. 25 386 eye overflowed — and, as he felt her fingers very gently com- pressing his own, his tears fell down. Gently leaning forward, he kissed her cheek, and sank on one knee beside the bed. "Is it you, my son?" said she in a very low tone, but in Aer own voice, and it stirred up instantly a thousand fond recollec- tions, almost overpowering him. He kissed her hand with fer- vent energy, but spoke not. She continued gazing at him with mingled solemnity and fondness. Her eye seemed brightening as it remained fixed upon him. Again she spoke, in a very low but clear voice — every thrilling word being heard by all around her — "Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden howl be bi'oken, or the pitcher be brokeii at the fountain , or the wheel broken at the cistern, — Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return wito God zvho gave it." It would be in vain to attempt to describe the manner in which these words were spoken; and which fell upon those who heard them as though they were listening to one from the dead. " My mother ! — my mother ! " at length faltered Aubrey. "Godbless thee, my son!" said she solemnly. "And Cathe- rine, my daughter — God bless thee" — she presently added, gently turning round her head towards the quarter whence a stilled sob issued from Miss Aubrey, who rose, trembling, and leaningover, kissed her mother. "Agnes, are you here — and your little ones? — Godbless"— Her voice got fainter, and her eyes closed. Mr. Whateley gave her a few drops of ether, and she presently revived. " God hath been very good to you, Madam," said Dr. Tatham, observing her eye fixed upon him, "to restore you thus to your children." " I have been long absent — long ! — I wake, my children, but to bid you farewell, for ever, upon earth." "Say not so, my mother — my precious mother!" exclaimed her son, in vain endeavouring to suppress his emotions. "I do, my son! Weep not for me; lam old, and am sum- moned away from among you" — She ceased, as if from exhaus- tion ; and no one spoke for some minutes. "It may be that God hath roused me, as it were, from the 387 dead, to comfort my sorrowful children with words of hope," said Mrs. Aubrey, with much more power and distinctness than before. "Hope ye, then , in God; for ye shall yet praise him who is the health of your countenance, and your God ! " "We will remember, my mother, your words!" faltered her son. "Yes, my son — if days of darkness be at hand" — She ceased. Again Sir. Whateley placed to her white lips a glass with some reviving fluid — looking ominously at l\lr. Aubrey, as he found that she continued insensible. Miss Aubrey sobbed audibly; indeed all present were powerfully affected. Again Mrs. Aubrey revived, and swallowed a few drops of wine and water. A heavenly serenity diffused itself over her emaciated features. "We shall meet again , my loves! — I can no longer see you with the eyes of" — Mr. Whateley observing a sudden change, came nearer to her. "Peace! peace!" she murmured almost inarticulately. A dead silence ensued, interrupted only by smothered sobs. Her children sank on their knees, and buried their faces in theirhands, trembling. Mr. Whateley made a silent signal to Dr. Tatham, that life had ceased — that the beloved spirit had passed away. "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord ! " said Dr. Tatham, with tremulous solemnity. Mrs. Aubrey, and Miss Aubrey, no longer able to restrain their feelings, wept bitterly; and, overpowered with grief, were supported out of the room by Dr. Tatham and Mr. Aubrey. As soon as it was known that this venerable lady was no more, universal reverence was testified for her memory, and sympathy for the afilicted survivors, by even those, high and low, in the remoter parts of the neighbourhood who had no personal ac- quaintance with the family. Two or three days afterwards, the undertaker, who had received orders from ^Ir. Aubrey to provide a simple and unexpensive funeral , submitted to him a list of more than thirty names of the nobility and gentry of the country, who had sent to him to know whether it would be agreeable to the family for them to be allowed to attend Mrs. Aubrey's remains to 2.-)* 388 the grave. After much consideration, Mr. Aubrey accepted of this spontaneous tribute of respect to the memory of his mother. 'T was a memorable and melancholy day on which the interment took place — one never to be forgotten at Yatlon. What can be more chilling than the gloomy bustle of a great funeral, especially in the country; and when the deceased is one whose memory is enshrined in the holiest feelings of all who knew her? What person was there, for miles around, who could not speak of the courtesies, the charities, the goodness of Madam Aubrey? ^^When the ear heard her, then it blessed her ; and when the eye saw her, it gave witness to her: " Beeaiise she delivered the poor that cried, and the father- less , and him that had none to help hi?n. " The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon her, and she caused the widozv's heart to sing for joy. "She was eyes to the blind , and feet was she to the lame. "She was a mother to the poor." — Pale as death, the chief mourner, wrapped in his black cloak, is stepping into the mourning-coach. No one speaks to him: his face is buried in his handkerchief; his heart seems breaking. He thinks of her whose dear dust is before him ; — then of the beloved beings whom he has left alone in their agony till his return — his wife and sister. The procession is moving slowly on — long, silent rows of the tenantry and villagers, old and young, male and female — not a dry eye among them, nor a syllable spoken — stand on each side of the way; no sound heard but of horses' feet, and wheels crushing along the wet gravel — for the day is most gloomy and inclement. As they quit the gates, carriage after carriage follows in the rear; and the sorrowful crowd increases around them. Many have in their hands the Bibles and prayer- books which had been given them by her who now lies in yonder Learse ; and a few can recollect the day when the late Lord of Yat- lon led her along from the church to the Hall , his young and blooming bride — in pride and joy — and they are now going to lay her beside him again! They are met at the entrance of the little churchyard, by good Dr. Tatham, in his surplice, bare- lieaded, and with book in hand; with full eye and quivering lip 389 he slowly precedes the body into the church. His voice frequently trembles, and sometimes he pauses while reading the service. Now they are standing bareheaded at the vault's mouth — the last sad rites are being performed; and probably, as is thinking the chief mourner, over the last of his race who will rest in that tomb! Long after the solemn ceremony was over, the little church- yard remained filled with mournful groupsof villagers and tenants, who pressed forward to the dark mouth of the vault, to take their last look at the coffin which contained the remains of her whose memory would live long in all their hearts. "Ah, dear old Madam ," quolh Jonas Higgs to himself, as he finished his dreary day's labours, by temporarily closing up the mouth of the vault, "they might have turned thee, by-and-by, out of yonder Hall, but they shall not touch thee here!" Thus died, and was buried, Madam Aubrey; and she is not yet forgotten. How desolate seemed the Hall, the next morning, to the bereaved inmates, as, dressed in deep mourning, they met at the cheerless breakfast table ! Aubrey kissed his wife and sister — who could hardly answer his brief enquiries. The gloom occa- sioned throughout the Hall, for the last ten days, by the windows being constantly darkened — now that the blinds were drawa up — had given way to a staring light and distinctness, which almost startled and offended the eyes of those whose hearts were dark with sorrow as ever. Every object reminded them of the absence of one — whose chair stood empty in its accustomed place. There, also, was her Bible, on the little round table near the window! The mourners seemed relieved by the entrance, by- and-by , of the children: but they also were in mourning ! Let us, however, withdraw from this scene of suffering, where every ob- ject, every recollection , every association, causes the wounded heart to bleed afresh. Great troubles seem coming upon them; and now that tlicy have buried their dead out of tlieir sight , and when time shall have begun to pour his balm into llu'ir present smarting wounds, 1 doubt not that they will look those troubles in the face , calmly 390 and with fortitude , not forgetful of the last words of her for whom they now mourn so bitterly, and whom, beloved and venerable being! God hath mercifully taken away from evil days that are to come. After much consideration , they resolved to go , on the ensuing Sunday morning , to church , where neither Mrs. Aubrey nor Kate had been since the illness of her mother. The little church was crowded; almost every one present, besides wearing a saddened countenance, exhibited some outward mark of respect, in their dress — some badge of mourning — such as their little means admitted of. The pulpit and reading-desk were hung in black, as also was Mr. Aubrey's pew — an object of deep interest to the congregation, who expected to see at least some member of the family at the Hall. They were not disappointed. A little before Dr. Talham took his place in the reading-desk, the well-known sound of the family-carriage wheels was heard, as it drew up be- fore the gate; and presently Mr. Aubrey appeared at the church door, with his wife and sister on either arm; all of them, of course , in the deepest mourning — Mrs. and Miss Aubrey's coun- tenances concealed beneath their long crape veils. For some time after taking their seats, they seemed oppressed with emotion, evidently weeping. Mr. Aubrey, however, exhibited great com- posure, though his countenance bore traces of the suffering he had undergone. Mrs. Aubrey seldom rose from her seat; but Kate stood up , from time to time, with the rest of the congregation ; her white handkerchief, however, might have been seen frequently raised to her eyes, beneath her black veil. As the service went on, she seemed to have struggled with some success against her feelings. To relieve herself for a moment from its oppressive closeness, she gently drew aside her veil; and thus, for a few minutes, exhibited a countenance which, though pale and agi- tated, was inexpressibly beautiful. She could not, however, long bear to face a congregation, every one of whom she felt to be looking on her , and those beside her , with affeclionate sympathy ; and rather quickly drew down her veil , without again removing it. There was one person present, on whom the brief glimpse of her beauty had produced a sudden, deep, and indelible impression. 391 As he gazed at her, the colour gradually deserted his cheek; and his eye remained fixed upon her, even after she had drawn dowa her veil. He experienced emotions such as he had never known before. So that was 3Iiss Aubrerj ! Mr. Gammon — for he it was , and he had gone thither under the expeclalion of seeing, for the first time, some of the Aubrey family — generally passed for a cold-blooded person ; and in fact few men living had more control over their feelings, or more systematically checked any manifestations of them ; but there was something in the person and circumstances of Miss Aubrey — for by a hurried enquiry of the person next to him he learned that it was she — which excited new feelings in him. Her slightest motion his eye watched with intense eagerness; and faint half- formed schemes, purposes, and hopes, passed in rapid confusion through his mind, as he foresaw that circumstances would here- after arise by means of which — "Good Heavens! how very — ve;-?/ beautiful she is!" said he to himself, as, the service over, her graceful figure, following her brother and his wife with slow sad step, approached the pew in which he was standing, on her way to the door. He felt a sort of cold shudder as her black dress rustled past , actually touching him. What was he doing and meditating against that lo>ely being? And for whom — disgusting reptile ! — for Tilmouse? He almost blushed from a conflict of emotions, as he followed almost imme- diately after Miss Aubrey, never losing sight of her till her brother, having handed her into the carriage, got in after her, and they drove off towards the Hall, The reader will not be at a loss to account for the presence of Mr. Gammon on this occasion , nor to connect it with an impend- ing trial at the approaching York assizes. As he walked back to Grilston to his solitary dinner, he was lost in thought; and on arriving at the inn, repaired at once to his room, where he found a co\iY of [he Sioulai/ Flus/i, which had, according to orders, been sent to him from town, under his assumed name, "Gibson." He ate but little, and that mechanically ; and seemed to feel, for once, little or no interest in his newspaper. He had never paid the least allentiou to the eido^ia upon Miss Aubrey of the idiot 392 Titmouse, nor of Snap, of whom he entertained but a very little higher opinion than of Titmouse. One thing was clear, that from that moment Miss Aubrey formed a new element in Mr. Gammon's calculations; and for aught I know, may occasion very different results from those originally contemplated by that calm and crafty person. As it proved a moonlight night, he resolved at once to set about the important business which had brought him into York- shire ; and for that purpose set off about eight o'clock on his walk to Yatton. About ten o'clock he might have been seen gliding noiselessly into the churchyard, like a dangerous snake. The moon continued to shine — and at intervals with brightness suffi- cient for his purpose, which was simply to reconnoitre, as closely as possible, the little sequestered locality — to ascertain what it might contain , and what were its capabilities. At length he approached the old yew-tree, against the huge trunk of which he leaned with folded arms, apparently in a reverie. Hearing a noise as of some one opening the gate by which he had entered, he glided further into the gloom beiiind him ; and turning his head in the direction whence the sound came, he beheld some one entering the churchyard. His heart beat quickly; and he suspected that he had been watched: yet there was surely no harm in being seen, at ten o'clock at night, looking about him in a country churchyard ! — It was a gentleman who entered , dressed in deep mourning; and Gammon quickly recognised in him Mr. Aubrey — the brother of her whose beautiful image still shone before his mind's eye. What could he be wanting there? — at that time of night? Gammon was not kept long in doubt; for the stranger slowly bent his steps towards a large high tomb, in fact the central object, next to the yew-tree, in the churchyard — and stood gazing at it in silence for some time. "That is, no doubt, where Mrs. Aubrey was buried the other day," thought Gammon, watching the movements of the stranger, who presently raised his handkerchief to his eyes, and for some moments seemed indulging in great grief. Gammon distinctly heard the sound of deep sighing, '-He must have been very fond of her," thought Gammon. "Well, if we succeed, the excellent 393 old lady will have escaped a great deal of trouble — that 's all!" ''If wc succeed " he inwardly repeated after a long pause! That reminded him of what he had for a few moments lost sight of, namely, his own object incoming thither; and he felt a sudden chill of remorse, which increased upon him till he almost trembled, as his eye continued fived on Mr. Aubrey, and he thought also oE Miss Aubrey — and the misery — the utter ruin into which he was seeking (o plunge them both — the unhallowed means which they — which — if necessary — he — contemplated resorting to for that purpose. Gammon's condition was becoming every moment more seri- ous; for VIRTUE, in the shape of Miss Aubrey, began to shine momentarily in more and more radiant loveliness before him — and he almost felt an inclination to sacrifice every person con- nected with llie enterprise in which he was engaged, if it would give him a chance of winning the favour of MissAubrey. Presently, however, Mr. Aubrey, evidently heaving a deep sigh, bent his steps slowly back towards the old gate, and quitted the churchyard. Gammon watched his figure out of sight, and then, for the first time since Mr. Aubrey's appearance, breathed freely. Relieved from the pressure of his presence , Gammon began to take calmer and justcr views of his position; and he reflected, that if he pushed on the present affair to a successful issue, he should be much more likely, than by prematurely ending it, to gain his ob- jects. He therefore resumed his survey of the scene around him ; and which presented appearances highly satisfactory, judging from the expression which now and then animated his countenance. At length he wandered round to the other end of the church, where a crumbling wall, half covered with ivy, indicated that there had formerly stood some building apparently of earlier dale than the church. Such was the fact. Gammon soon found him- self standing in a sort of inclosure, which had once been the site ot an old chapel. And here he had not been long making his observa- tions, before he achieved a discovery of so extraordinary a nature; one so unlikely, under the circumstances, to have happened; one so calculated to baffle ordinary calculations concerning (he course of events, that the reader may well disbelieve what I am 394 going to tell him , and treat it as absurdly improbable. In short, not to keep him in suspense, Gammon positively discovered evi- dence of the death of Harry Dreddiinglon in his father's lifetime; by means of just such a looliing tombstone as he had long imaged to himself; and as he had resolved that old Quirk should have got prepared, before the cause came into court. He almost stumbled over it. 'T was an old slanting stone, scarcely a foot above the ground, partly covered with moss, and partly hid by rubbish and long damp grass. The moon shone brightly enough to enable Gammon, kneeling down, to decipher, beyond all doubt, what was requisite to establish that part of the case which had been wanting. For a moment or two he was disposed to imagine that he was dreaming. When, at length, he took out pencil and paper, his hands trembled so much that he felt some difficulty in making an exact copy of the inestimable inscription. Having done this , he drew a long breath as he replaced the pencil and paper in his pocket-book, and almost fancied he heard a whispering sound in the air — "Verdict for the plaintiff." Quitting the churchyard, he walked back to Grilston at a much quicker rate than that at which he had come , his discovery having wonderfully elated him, and pushed all other thoughts entirely out of his mind. But, thought he, doubtless the other side are aware of the existence of this tombstone — they can hardly be supposed ignorant of it; they must have looked up their evidence as well as we — and their attention has been challenged to the existence or non-existence of proof of the time of the death of Harry Dreddiinglon: — well — if they are aware of it, they know that it cuts the ground from under them, and turns their conveyance, on which, doubtless, they are relying, into waste paper; if they are not, and are under the impression that that deed is valid and effectual , our proof will fall on them like a thunderbolt. " Gad ," — he held his breath , and stopped in the middle of the road — "how immensely important is this little piece of evidence! Why, if ihey knew of it — why in Heaven's name is it there still? What easier than to have got rid of it? — why, they may still : what can that stupid fellow Parkinson have been about? Yet, is it because it has become unimportant, on account of their being in possession of other evidence? What 395 can they have to set against so plain a case as ours is, with this evidence? Gad, I'll not lose ouc day's time; but I 'II liave half a dozen competent witnesses to inspect, and speali to that same tombstone in court." Such were some of the thoughts which passed through his mind as he hastened homeward; and on his arrival , late as it was — only the yawning ostler having sale up to let him in — he wrote off a letter to Mr. Quirk , and made it into a parcel to go by the mail in the morning, acquainting him with the amazing discovery which he liad just made, and urging Mr. Quirk to set about getting up the briefs, for the trial, without delay; he himself — Gammon — purposing to stop at Grilston a day or two longer, to complete one or two other arrangements of an im- portant nature. As soon as Mr. Quirk had read this letter , he de- voutly thanked God for his goodness; and, hurrying to his strong- box, unlocked it, took out a small sealed packet, and committed it to the flames. Mr. Aubrey, as soon as he had recovered from the Drsl shock occasioned by Mr. Parkinson's communication of the proceedings against him, set about acquainting himself, as minutely as he could, with the true slate of the case. He had requested that geulleman to obtain from one of the counsel in London, Mr. Crystal , a full account of the case for his — IMr. Aubrey's — own guidance; and on obtaining a remarkably clear and luminous statement, and also consulting the various authorities cited in it — such, at least, as could be supplied lo him by Mr. Parkinson — the vigorous practical understanding of Mr. Aubrey, aided by his patient application, soon mastered the whole case, and enabled him to appreciate his perilous position. Since he could derive no title through the conveyance of Harry Dreddliiiglon (which had been got in by Geoffry Dreddlington,) owing to the death of the former in his father's lifetime,'^ as he (Mr. Aubrey) understood from his advisers could be easily proved by the present claimant of the property; the right of accession of Geoffry Dreddlinglon's descendants depended entirely upon the fact wlicthcr or not Stc- * See the note prefixed lo Chapter V. Vol. II., for a full cxplanalion of the above, and anoliier imporlanl legal topic inlroduced into iLls work. 396 phen Dreddlington had really died without issue; and as to that, certaia anxious and extensive enquiries instituted by Messrs. Run- nington and Mr. Parltinson, in pursuance of the suggestions of their able and experienced counsel, had led them to entertain serious doubts concerning the right of Gcoffry's descendants to have entered into possession. By what means his opponents had obtained their clue to the state of his title, neither Mr. Aubrey nor any of his advisers could frame a plausible conjecture. It ■was certainly possible that Stephen Dreddlington, who was known to have been a man, like his uncle Harry, of wild and eccentric habits, and to have been supposed to leave no issue, might have married privately some woman of inferior station, and left issue by her, who, living in obscurity , and at a distance from (he seat of the family property, could have no opportunity of enquiring into or ascertaining their position with reference to the estates, till some acute and enterprising attorneys, like Messrs. Quirk, Gam- mon, and Snap, happening to get hold of them, and family papers in their possession, had taken up their case. When, with impressions such as these, Mr. Aubrey perused and re-perused the opinions of the conveyancer given on the occasion of his (Mr. Aubrey's) marriage, he was confounded at the supineness and indifference which he had even twice exhibited , and felt disposed now greatly to overvalue the importance of every adverse circum- stance. The boldness, again, and systematic energy with which the case of the claimant was prosecuted, and the eminent legal opinions which were alleged , and with every appearance of truth, to concur in his favour, afforded additional grounds for rational apprehension. He looked the danger, however, full in the face, and as far as lay in his power, as a conscientious man, prepared for the evil day which might so soon come upon him. Certain ex- tensive and somewhat costly alterations which he had been on the point of commencing at Yatton, he abandoned. But for the earnest interference of friends, he would at once have given up his establishment in Grosvenor Street, and applied for the Chil- tern Hundreds, in order to retire from political life. Consider- ing the possibility of his soon being declared the wrongful holder of the property, he contracted his expenditure as far as he could, 397 without challenging unnecessary public attention; and paid into his banker's hands all his Christmas rents, sacredly resolving to abstain from drawing out one farthing of what might soon be proved to belong to another. At every point occurred the dread- ful question — if I am declared never to have been the ri^ihilul owner of the properly, how am I to discharge my frightful liabili- ties lo him who is? Mr. Aubrey had nothing except the Yatton property. lie had but an insigniticant sum in the funds; Mrs. Aubrey's settlement was out of lands at Yatton , as also was the little income bequeathed to Kate by her father. Could any thing be conceived more dreadful, under these circumstances, than the mere danger — the slightest probability — of their being de- prived of Yatton? — and with a debt of at the very least sixty THOUSAND POUNDS, duc to him who had been wrongfully kept out of his property? That was the millstone which seemed to drag them all to the bottom. Against that, what could the kindness of the most generous friends, what could his own most desperate exertions, avail? All this had poor Aubrey constantly before his eyes, together with — his wife, his children, his sister. What was to become of them? It was long before the real nature and extent of his danger became known amongst his friends and neighbours. When, however, they were made aware of it, an extraordinary interest and sympathy were excited throughout almost the whole county. Whenever his attorney, Mr. Parkin- son, appeared in public, he was besieged by most anxious en- quiries concerning his distinguished client, whose manly modesty and fortitude, under the pressure of his sudden and almost un- precedented dilTiculty and peril, endeared him more than ever to all who had an opportunity of appreciating his position. With what intense and absorbing interest were the ensuing assizes looked for! — At length they arrived. The ancient city of York exhibited, on the commission day of the Spring Assizes for the year 18 — , the usual scene of animation and excitement. The High Sheriff, attended by an imposing retinue, went out to meet the Judges, and escorted them, amidst the shrill clangour of trumpets, lo ihcCasile, where the com- mission was opened with the usual formalities. The Judges were 398 Lord Widdrington, the Lord Chief-Justice of the King's Bench, and Mr. Justice Grayley, a puisne judge of the same court — both admirable lawyers. The former was possessed of the more powerful intellect. He was , what may be called a great scientific lawyer, referring every thing to j^r/nce/^/e, as extracted from pre- cedent. Mr. Justice Grayley was almost unrivalled in his know- ledge of the details of the law; his governing maxim being ita lex scripta. Here his knowledge was equally minute and accurate, and most readily applied to every case brought before him. Never sat there upon the bench a more painstaking judge — one more anxious to do right equally in great things as in small. Both were men of rigid integrity: 'I is a glorious thing to be able to chal- lenge the enquiry — when, for centuries, have other than men of rigid integrity sat upon the English Bench? Lord Widdrington, however, in temper was stern, arbitrary, and overbearing, and his manners were disfigured not a little by coarseness; while his companion was a man of exemplary amiability, affability, and forbearance. Lord Widdrington presided at the Ci\il Court, (in which, of course, would come on the important cause in which •we are interested ,) and Mr. Justice Grayley in the Criminal Court. Soon after the sitting of the court, on the ensuing morning — "Will your Lordship allow me," rose and enquired the sleek, smiling, and portly Mr. Subtle, dead silence prevailing as soon as he had mentioned tHe name of the cause about which he was enquiring, "to mention a cause oi Doe on the demise of Titmouse V. Jolter — a special jury cause , in which there are a great many witnesses to be examined on both sides — and to ask that a day may be fixed for it to come on?" "Whom do you appear for, Mr. Subtle?" enquired his Lord- ship. "For the plaintiff, my Lord." "And who appears for the defendant?" "The Attorney-General leads for the defendant, my Lord?" replied Mr. Sterling, who, with Mr. Crystal, was also retained for the defendant. "Well, perhaps you can agree between yourselves upon a day, 399 and in ihc mean lime similar arrangements may be made for any otiicr special jury causes llial may require it." After due consul- tation, Monday week was agreed upon by the parties, and fixed by his Lordsbip, for the trial of the cause. — During the Sunday preceding it, York was crowded with persons of the highest distinction from all parts of the county, who felt interested in the result of the great cause of the assizes. About mid-day a dusty travelling carriage and four dashed into the streets from the Lon- don road, and drove up to the principal inn; it contained the Attorney-General (who just finished reading his brief as he en- tered York) and his clerk. The Attorney-General was a man of striking and highly intellectual countenance; but he looked, on alighting, somewhat fatigued with his long journey. He was a man of extraordinary natural talents, and also a first-rate law- yer—one whose right to take the woolsack, whenever it should become vacant, was recognized by all the profession. His pro- fessional celebrity, and his coming down '^yjcc/a/' on the present occasion, added to the circumstance of his being well known to be a personal friend of his client, l\Ir. Aubrey — whence it might be inferred that his great powers would be exerted to their ut- most — was well calculated to enhance the interest, if that were possible, of the occasion which had brought him down at so great an expense, and to sustain so heavy a responsibility as the con- duct of a cause of such magnitude. Be came to lead against a formidable opponent. Mr. Subtlr was the leader of the Northern circuit, a man of matchless tact and practical sagacity, and consummately skilful in the conduct of a cause. The only thing he ever looked at, was the vERnicx; to the gaining of which he directed all his energies, and sacrificed every other consideration. As for display, he despised it. A speech, as such, was his aversion. He entered into a friendly, but exquisitely crafty conversation with the jury; for he was so quick at perceiving the effect of his address on the mind of each of the twelve, and dexterous in accommodating himself to what he had detected to be the passing mood of each, that they indi- vidually felt as if they were ail the while reasoning with , and being con\inccd by him. Hisplacid, smiling, handsome countenance, 400 his gentlemanly bearing and insinuating address, full of good- natured cheerful confidence in his cause, were irresistible. He flattered, he soothed, he fascinated the jury, producing an im- pression upon their minds which they often felt indignant at his opponent's attempting to efface. In fact, as a nisi p?'ius leader he vas unrivalled, as well in stating as in arguing a case, as well in examining as cross-examining a witness. It required no little practical experience to form an adequate estimate of Mr. Sublle's skill in the management of a cause; for he did every thing with such a smiling, careless, unconcerned air, equally in the great pinch and strain of a case, as in the pettiest details, that you would be apt to suspect that none but the easiest and most straightforward cases fell to his lot! Titmouse, Titmouse, methinks the fates favoured you in as- signing to you Mr, Subtle ! Next came Mr. Quicksilver, who had received what may be called a miijjling retainer. What a coiitrast was he to Mr. Subtle ! Beckless, rhetorical, eloquent, ready, witty — possessing a vast extent of general knowledge, but rather slenderly furnished with law — he presented to the jury, himself — not his client, or his client's case: infinitely more anxious to make a splendid figure in public, than to secure, by watchful activity , the interests of his clients. Why, then, was such a man retained in the cause? 'T was a fancy of Quirk's, a vast political admirer of Quicksilver's, who had made one or two most splendid speeches for him in libel cases brought against the Sunday Flash. Gammon most earnestly expostulated, but Quirk was inexorable; and himself carried his retainer to Mr. Quicksilver. Gammon, however, was somewhat consoled by the reflection, that this wild elephant would be, in a manner, held in check by Mr. Subtle and Mr. Lynx, who, he hoped, would prevent any serious mischief from happening. Lynx possessed the qualities which his name would suggest to you. I have partly described him already. He was a man of minute accuracy; and "got up" every case in which he was engaged as if his life had depended on the result. Nothing escaped him. He kept his mind constanlly even with the current of the cause. He was a man to steer a leader, if ever that leader 401 should get, for an instant, ou the wrong lack, or be uncertain as to his course. His suggestion and interference — rare, indeed, vilh such a man as Mr/ Subtle, incessant with Mr, Quicksii\cr — were always worth attending to, and consequenlly recei\ed with deference. For Mr. Aubrey also was retained a formidable "bar." Mr. Attorney-General was a man much superior, in point of intellect and legal knowledge, to Mr. Subtle. His mind was distinguished by its tranquil power. He had a rare and invaluable faculty of arraying before his mind's eye all the facts and bearings of the- most intricate case, and contemplating them, as it were, not successively, but simultaneously. His perception was quick as light; and, at the same time — rare, most rare accompani- ment! — his judgment sound, his memory signally retentive. Inferior, possibly, to Mr. Subtle in rapid and delicate appreciation of momentary advantages, he was sagacious, where Mr. Subtle ■was only ingenious. Mr. Attorney-General had as much weight with tlie judge as Mr. Subtle with the jury. With the former there was a candour and straightforwardness — a dignitied simplicity — which insensibly won the confidence of the judge; who, on the other hand, felt himself obliged to be ever on his guard against the slippery sophistries of Mr. Subtle, whom he thus got to regard with constant suspicion. Mr. Stkrling, the second counsel for the defendant, was a king's counsel, and a rival of Mr. Subtle upon the circuit. He was a man of great power; and, on important occasions, no man at the bar could acquit himself with more distinction. As a speaker, he was eloquent and impressive, perhaps deficient in vivacity; but he was a man of clear and powerful intellect; prompt in seizing the bearings of a case; a capital lawyer; and possessing, even on the most trying occasions, imperturbable self-possession. Mr. Crtstal, with some faults of manner and bearing, was an honourable high-minded man; clear-sighted and strong- headed; an accurate and ready lawyer; vigilant and acute. See, then, the combatants in this memorable encounter: for Tilmouse — Mr. Subtle, Mr. Quicksilver, Mr. Lynx; for Tf/i Thousiiitd a-Year, J, ^>(j 402 Mv. Juhrey — Mr. Attorney-General, Mr. Sterling, Mr. Crystal. The consultation of each party was long and anxious. About eight o'clock on the Sunday evening, at Mr. Subtle's lodgings, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, accompanied by Mr. Mortmain , whom they had brought down to watch the case, made their appearance shortly after Mr. Quicksilver and Mr. Lynx. "Our case seems complete, no\o," said Mr. Subtle, casting a penetrating and most significant glance at Messrs. Quirk and Gammon, and then at his juniors, to whom, before the arrival of their clients and Mr. Mortmain, he had been mentioning the es- sential link whidi , a month before, he had pointed out as miss- ing, and the marvellous good fortune by which they had been able to supply it at the eleventh hour. "That tombstone's a godsend. Subtle, isn't it?" said Quick- silver with a grim smile. Lynx neither smiled nor spoke. He was a very matter-of-fact person. So as the case came out clear and nice in court, he cared about nothing more: at that moment he felt that he should h& functus officio! ~ But whatever might be the insinuation or suspicion implied in the observation of Mr. Subtle, the reader must, by this time, be well aware how little it was warranted by the facts.* "I shall open it very quietly," said Mr. Subtle, putting into his pocket his penknife, with which he had been paring his nails, while Mr. Quicksilver had been talking very fast. " What do you think, Mr. Lynx? Had I better allude boldly to the conveyance executed by Harry Dreddlinglon , and which becomes useless as soon as we prove his death in his father's lifetime?" "Ah! there 's that blessed tombstone again," interposed Quicksilver, with a sarcastic smile. — "Or," resumed Mr. Subtle, "content myself with barely * Not many years ago, the fate of an important case lurned upon the existence of a tombstone: and a forged one was produced in courtl ^The validity of a great Peerage case is at tliis moment depending upon the genuineness of one of these dumb and gloomy witnesses. [1844.] 403 making out our pedigree, and let the conveyance of Harry Dred- dlington come from the other side?" "I think, pciiiaps, that the latter would be the quieter and safer course," replied Lynx. "By the way, gentlemen," said Mr. Subtle suddenly, ad- dressing Jlessrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, "how do we come to know any thing about the mortgage executed by H;irry Drcddlingtou?" "Oh! thai you know," replied Quirk quickly; "we first got scent of in Mr." — Here he paused suddenly, and turned quite red. "It was suggested," said Gammon calmly, "by one of the gentlemen whose opinions we have taken in the case — I forgot by whom — that, from some recital, it was probable that lliere existed such an instrument; and that put us on making en- quiry." "Nothing more likely," added Mortmain, "than tliat it, or an abstract, or minute of it, should get into Stephen Drcddling- ton's hands!" "Ah! well! well!" said Mr. Subtle, shrugging his shoul- ders, — "I must say there 's rather an air of mystery about the case. But — about that tombstone — what sort of witnesses will speak" — "Will tliat evidence be requisite," enquired Lynx, "in the plaintiff's case? All we shall have to do, will be to prove the fact that Harry died without issue, of which there's satisfactory evidence; and as to the lime of his death, that will become material only iUhcij put in the conveyance of Harry." "True— true; ah! I Ml turn that oveF in my mind. Rely upon it, I 'II give Mr. Attorney-General as little to lay hold of as possible. Thank you. Lynx, for the hint. Now, gentlemen," said he, turning to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, "one other question — Wiiat kind of looking people arc the witnesses who prove the later steps of the pedigree of Mr. Titmouse? Re- spectable? eh? — You know a good deal will depend on the credit which they may obtain with the jury! " 26* 404 ' ' They 're very decent creditable persons , you will find , Sir," said Gammon. "Good, good. Who struck the special jury?" "We did, Sir." "Well, I must say that was a very prudent step for you to take! considering the rank in life and circumstances of the resppclive parlies! However, to be sure, if you didn't, they would — so — well; good-night, gentlemen, good-night." So the consultation broke up; and Messrs. Quirk , Gammon, and Snap returned home to their inn, in a very serious and anxious mood. "You 're a marvellous prudent person, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, in a somewhat fierce whisper, as they walked along, "I suppose you would have gone on to explain the Utile mat- ter of Steggars, and so have had our briefs thrown at our heads" — "Well, well ," grunted Quirk, " ihalwas a slip !" Here they reached their inn. Titmouse was staying there; and in Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's absence, he had got very drunk, and was quarrelling under the archway with 'Boots;' so they ordered him to bed , they themselves sitting up till a very late hour in the morning. The consuiation at the Attorney-General's had taken place about three o'clock in the afternoon, within an hour after his arrival; and had been attended by Messrs. Sterling, Crystal, and Mansfield — by Mr. Runuington, and Mr. Parkinson, and by Mr. Aubrey, whom the Attorney-General received with the most earnest expressions of sympathy and friendship; listening to every question and every observation of his with the utmost deference. "It would be both idle and unkind to disguise from you, Aubrey," said he, "that our position is somewhat precarious. It depends entirely on the chance we may have of breaking dowa the plaintiff's case; for we have but a slender one of our own. I suppose they can bring proof of the death of Harry Dreddlingtoa in his fatlier's lifetime?" "Oh yes, Sir!" answered Mr. Parkinson, "there is an old 405 toinsblone behind Yalton church which establishes that fact beyond all doubt: and a week or two ago no fewer than five or six persons have been carefully inspecting it; doubtless they will be called as witnesses to-morrow." "I feared as much. Then are ours no more than watching briefs. Depend upon it, they would not have carried on the affair with so high a hand, if they had not pretty firm ground under fool ! Messrs. Quirk , Gammon , and Snap are tolerably well known in town — not oi^er-scrupulous, eh, Mr. Running- ton?" "Indeed, Mr, Attorney, you are right. I don't doubt they are prepared to go all the lengths." "Well, we '11 sift their evidence pretty closely, at any rate. So you really have reason to fear, as you intimated when you entered the room, that they have valid evidence of Stephen Dreddlington having left issue?" "Mr. Snap told me," said Mr. Parkinson, "this morning, that they would prove issue of Stephen Dreddlington , and issue of that issue , as clean as a whistle — that was his phrase." "Ay, ay — but we mustn't take all for gospel that /le would say," replied the Attorney-General, smiling sarcastically. " They 've got two houses filled with witnesses , I understand," said .^Ir. Ilunningtou. "Do they seem Yorkshire people, or strangers?" "Why, most of them that I have seen," replied Parkinson, "seem strangers." "Ah , they will prove, I suppose," said the Altornoy-Goncral, "the later steps of the pedigree, when Stephen Dreddlington married at a distance from his native county." They then entered into a very full and minute examination of the case; after which, — "Well," said the Attorney-General, evidently fatigued with his long journey, and rising from his chair, "we must trust to what will turn up in the chapter of accidents to-morrow. I shall be expected to dine with the bar to-day," he added; "but immediately after dinner — say at half past seven o'clock, I shall be here and at your service, if any thing should be required." Then the consultation broke up. Mr. Aubrey 406 had, at their earnest entreaty, brought Mrs. Aubrey and Kate from Yalton, on Saturday; for they declared themselves unable to bear the dreadful suspense in which they should be left 'at Yatton. Yielding , therefore , to these their very reasonable ■wishes, he had engaged private lodgings at the outslcirts of the town. On quilting the consulation , which, without at the same time affecting over-strictness, he had regretted being lixed for Sunday — but the necessity oT the case appeared to warrant it — he repaired to the magnificent minster, where the evening prayers were being read , and where were 3Irs. Aubrey and Kate. The prayers were being chanted as he entered; and he was con- ducted to a stall nearly opposite to where those whom he loved so fondly, were standing. The psalms allotted for the evening were those in which the royal sufferer, David, was pouring forth the deepest sorrows of his heart; and their appropriateness to Mr. Aubrey's state of mind, added to the effect produced by the melting melody in which they were conveyed to his ears, excited in bin), and, he perceived, also in those opposite, the deepest cmutioD. The glorious pile was beginning to grow dusky with the stealing shadows of evening; and the solemn and sublime strains of the organ, during the playing of the anlhem, filled those present, who had any pretensions to sensibility, wilh mingled feelings of tenderness and awe. Those in whom we are so deeply interested, felt at once subdued and elevated; and as they quitted the darkening fabric , through which the pealing tones of the organ were yet reverberating, they could not help enquiring, Should they ever enter it again, — and in what altered circumstances might it be? To return, however — though it is, indeed, like descentirig from the holy mountain into the bustle and hubbub of the city at its foot — Mr. Parkinson, being most unexpectedly , and as he felt it unfortunately , summoned to Grilston that afternoon , in order to send up some deeds of a distinguished client to London, for the purpose of immediately effecting a mortgage , set off in a post-chaise, at top speed, in a very unenviable frame of mind; and by seven o'clock was seated in his office at Grilston, busily turning over a great number of deeds and papers, in a large tia 407 case, with the words "Right Honourable tlie Earl of Yelvcr- lon" painted ou the outside. Having turned over ahnost every thing inside, and found all that he wanted, he was going to toss back again all the deeds which were not requisite for his imme- diate purpose, when he happend to see one lying at the very bottom which he had not before observed. It was not a large, but an old deed — and he took it up and hastily examined it. We have seen a piece of unexpected good fortune on the part of Gammon and his client; and the reader will not be disappointed at finding something of a similar kind befalling Mr. Aubrey, even at the eleventh hour. Mr. Parkinson's journey, which he had execrated a hundred times over as he came down, produced a discovery which made him tremble all over with agitation and delighted'excitemcnt, and begin to look upon it as almost owing to an interference of Providence. The deed which he looked at, bore an indorsement of the name of ^'Drecldli/igion." After a hasty glance over its contents, he tried to recollect by what accident a document, belonging to Mr. Aubrey, could have found its way into the box containing Lord Yelverton's deeds; and.it at length occurred to him that, some lime before, Mr. Aubrey had proposed advancing several thousand pounds to Lord Yel- vertou , on mortgage of a small portion of his Lordship's properly — but which negotiation had afterwards been broken off; that Mr. Aubrey's title-deeds happened to be at the same time open and loose in his office — and he recollected having considerable trouble in separating the respective documents which had gnt mixed together. This one, after all, had been by some accident overlooked , till it turned up in this most timely and extraordinary manner! Having hastily effected the object which had brought him back toGrilston, he ordered a post-chaise and four, and within a quarter of an hour was thundering back, at top speed, on his way to York, which, the horses recking and foaming, he reached a little after ten o'clock. He jumped out, with the precious deed in his pocket, the instant that his chaise-door was opened, and ran off, without saying more than — '•! 'm gone to the Attorney-General's." This was heard by many passers-by and persons standing round; and it s^iread far and wide that 408 something of the utmost importance had transpired, with refer- ence to the great ejectment cause of Mr. Aubrey. Soon after- wards, messengers and clerks, belonging to Mr. Runnington and Mr. Parkinson , were to be seen running to and fro, summoning Mr. Sterling, Mr. Crystal, 31r. Mansfield, and also Mr. Aubrey, to a second consultation at the Attorney-General's. About eleven o'clock they were all assembled. The deed which had occasioned all this excitement, was one calculated indeed to produce that effect; and it filled the minds of all present with astonishment and delight. It was, in a word, a deed of confirmation by OLD Dreddlington, the father of Harry Dreddlington , of the conveyance by the latter to Geoffry Dreddlington, who, in the manner already mentioned to the reader, had got an assignment of that conveyance to himself, After the Attorney-General had satisfied himself as to the account to he given of the deed — the custody whence it came, namely, the attorney for the defendant; Mr. Parkinson undertaking to swear, without any hesitation , that whatever deeds of Mr. Aubrey's he possessed, he had taken from the muniment room at Yatton — the second consultation broke up. Mr. Aubrey, on hearing the nature and effect of the instru- ment explained by the Attorney-General and Mr, Mansfield — all his counsel, in short, concurring in opinion as to the triumphant effect which this instrument would produce on the morrow — may be pardoned for regarding it, in the excitement of the moment, as almost a direct interference of Providence. A few minutes before nine o'clock on the ensuing morning, the occasional shrill blasts of the trumpets announced that the judges were on their way to the castle, the approaches to which were crowded with carriages and pedestrians of a highly respectable appearance. As the castle clock fiflished striking nine. Lord Widdrington, in a short wig and plain black silk gown,* took his seat, and the swearing of the special jury commenced. The court was crowded almost to suffocation ; all the chief places being filled with persons of distinction in the county. The • When the Judges of Assize preside in the Crown side (/. e. in the Criminal Court,) they wear their scarlet and ermine robes, and full- bottomed wigs. 409 benches on each side of the judge Mere occupied by ladies, who — especially the Countess of Oidacre and Lady De la Zouch — evinced a painful degree of anxiety and excitement in their countenances and demeanour. The bar also mustered in great force; the crown court being quite deserted, although "a great murder case" was going on there. The civil court was on the present occasion the point of attraction, not only on account of the interesting nature of the case to be tried, but of the keen contest expected between the Attorney-General and Mr. Subtle. The former, as he entered — his commanding features gazed at by many an anxious eye with hope, and a feeling that on his skill and learning depended that day the destination of the Yatton property — bowed to the judge, and then nodded and shook hands with several of the counsel nearest to him; then he sat down, and his clerk ha\ing opened his bags, and taken out his huge brief, he began turning over its leaves with a calm and attentive air, occasionally conversing with his juniors. Every one present observed that the defendant's counsel atid attorneys wore the confident looks of winning men; while their opponents, quick- sighted enough, also observed the circumstance , and looked, ou that account alone, a shade more anxious than when they had entered the court. Mr. Subtle requested Gammon, whose ability he had soon detected, to sit immediately beneath him; next to Gammon sate Quirk; then Snap; and beside him Mr. Titmouse, with a staring sky-blue flowered silk handkerchief round his neck, a gaudy waistcoat, a tight surtout, and white kid gloves. He looked exceedingly pale, and dared hardly interchange a word with even Snap, who was just as irritable and excited as his senior partners. It was quickly known all over the court which was Titmouse! Mr. Aubrey scarcely showed himself in court all day, though lie stood at the door near the bench , and could hear all that passed; Lord De la Zouc4i and one or two other personal friends standing with him, engaged, from time to time, in anxious conversation. The jury having been sworn, Mr. LynxTose, and in a few hurried sentences, to the lay audience utterly unintelligible , in- timated the nature of the pleadings in the cause. The Attor- 410 ney-General then in a low tone requested that all the witnesses might leave the Court. * As soon as the little disturbance oc- casioned by this move had ceased , Mr. Subtle rose, and in a low but distinct tone said, "May it please your Lordship — Gentle- men of the Jury, — In this cause I have the honour to appear before you as counsel for the plaintiff; and it now becomes my duty to state as briefly as I can, the nature of his case. It is impossible, gentlemen, that we should not be aware of the un- usual interest excited by this cause; and which may be accounted for by the very large estates in this county which are sought this day to be transferred to a comparative stranger, from the family who have long enjoyed them, and of whom I am anxious lo say every thing respectful; for you will very soon find that the name on the record is that of only the nominal defendant; and although all that is p-q/ewerf to be this day sought lo here- covered is a very trifling portion of the properly, your verdict will undoubtedly in effect decide the question as to the true owner- ship and enjoyment of the large estates now held by the gen- tleman who is the substantial defendant — I mean Mr. Aubrey, the member of Parliament for the borough ofYatton; for what- ever answer he might make to an action brought to recover his whole estate, he must make upon the present occasion." Aware of the watchful and formidable opponent who would in due time answer him, and also of being himself entitled to the general reply — to the last word — Mr. Subtle proceeded to state the nature of the plaintiff's case with the utmost brevity and clear- ness. Scarcely any sound was heard but that of the pens of the short-hand writers, and of the counsel taking their notes. Mr. Subtle, having handed up two or three copies of the pedi- gree which he held in his hand to the judge, the jury, and his opponents , pointed out with distinctness and precision every link * This is a step oflen taken In trials of importance, when the counsel for either parly apprehends danger to his client, from his opponent's witnesses remaining in court and hearing all Ihe evidence which they are afterwards called lo conlradict. Either counsel has a right thus to ex- clude witnesses. The Court usually, in su-ch cases, orders «// the wit- nesses lo withdraw. 411 in the chain of evidence which he intended to lay before the jury; and having done this— having presented as few salient points of attack to his opponent as he possibly could — he sat down, professing his entire ignorance of what case could be set up in answer to that which he had opened. He had not been on his legs quite half an hour; and when he ceased — how he had disappointed every one present, except the judge and the bar! Instead of a speech apparently befitting so great an occasion — impressive and eloquent — here had been a brief dry statement of a few uninteresting facts — of dates, of births, deaths, mar- riages, registers, entries, inscriptions, deeds, wills — without a single touch of feeling, or ray of eloquence. The momentary feeling of disappointment in the audience, however — almost all of whom, it may easily be believed, were in the interest of the Aubreys — quickly yielded to one of satisfaction and relief; as they thought they might regard so meagre a speech as herald- ing as meagre a case. As soon as he had sat down , Mr. Quick- silver rose and called the first w ilness. " We 're safe ! " said the Attorney-General to Mr. Sterling and Mr. Crystal, with his hand before his moiilh, and with the very faintest whisper that could be audible to those whom he addressed; and the witness having been sworn, they all resumed their seats and their writing. The first and th« subsequent witness established one or two preliminary and formal points — the Attorney-General scarcely rising to put a question to them. The third witness was examined by Mr. Subtle with apparent unconcern, but really with exquisite anxiety. From the earnestness and attention with •which the words of the witness were watched and taken down by both the judge and the counsel, who knew somewhat better than the audience where the strain of the case commenced, it must have appeared to the latter, that eitherMr. Subtle undcr-eslimaled, or his opponents over-estimated , the value of the evidence now in process of being extracted by Mr. Subtle, in short, easy, pointed questions, and with a bland and smiling counten;ince. "Notsofast, Sir," gruffly interposed Lord Widdringlon, ad- dressing the witness. .^ "Take lime, Mr. Jones," said Mr. Subtle kindly, fearful of 412 ruffling or discomposing an important witness. The Attorney- General rose to cross-examine; pressed him quietly but closely; varied th&shape of his questions; now he soothed, then he star- tled by his sternness; but sat down, evidently having produced DO impression. Thus it was with one or two succeeding witnesses ; the Attorney-General, on each occasion , resuming his seat after his abortive efforts with perfect composure. At length , however, by a very admirable and well-sustained fire of cross-questioning, he completely demolished a material witness; and the hopes of all interested in behalf of his clients rose high. Mr. Subtle, who had been all the while paring his nails , and from time to time smiling with a careless air, (though you might as safely have touched a tigress suckling her cubs as attempted at that moment to disturb him, so absorbed was he in intense anxiety,) believing that he could establish the same facts by another and, as he thought, a better witness, did not re-examine; but calling that other, with an air of nonchalance, succeeded in extracting from him all that the former had failed in ; baffling all the attempts of the Attorney- General to affect his credit. At length , another witness being in the box, — "I object, my Lord, to that question," said Mr, Attorney- General, as Mr. Subtle, amidst many indifferent and apparently irrelevant questions, quietly slipped in one of the greatest possible importance and advantage to him — had it been answered as he desired. 'T was quite delightful to see the Attorney-General and his experienced and watchful juniors all rise at one and the same instant: showing how vain were the tricks and ingenuity of their sly opponent. Mr. Attorney-General stated his objection briefly and pointedly; Mr. Subtle answered him, followed by Quicksilver and Lynx; and then Mr. Attorney-General replied, with great force and clearness. This keen encounter of their wits over — "I shall allow the question to be put," said Lord Widdrington, after a pause — "But I have great doubts as toils propriety. I will therefore lake a note of Mr. Attorney-General's objection." Four or five similar conflicts arose during the course of the plaintiff's case: — now concealing the competency of a witness — then as to the admissibility of a document, or the propriety of a 413 particular question. On each of these occasions there were dis- played on both sides consummate logical skill and acuteness, especially by the two leaders. Distinctions the most delicate and subtle were suggested with suddenness, and as promptly encoun- tered ; the most artful manoeuvres to secure dangerous admissions resorted to , and baffled ; the most recondite principles of evidence brought to bear with admirable readiness on both sides. To deal with them, required, indeed, the practised, penetrating, and powerful intellect of Lord Widdrington. Some points he disposed of promptly, to the satisfaction of both parties; on others he hesi- tated, and at length reserved them. Though none but the more experienced and able members of the bar could in the least degree enter into and appreciate the nature of these conflicts, they were watched with untiring attention and eagerness by all present, both ladies and gentlemen — by the lowly and the distinguished. And though the intensity of the feelings of all was manifest by a mere glimpse round the court, yet any momentary display of eccentri- city on the part of a witness , or petulance or repartee on the part of counsel, would occasion a momentary merriment which, iu point of fact, served only as a sort oi relief to the strained feelings of the audience, and instantly disappeared. The tombstone part of the case was got through easily, scarcely any attempt being made on the part of Mr. Aubrey's counsel to resist or interfere with it. But the great — the hottest part of the fight — occurred at that point of the case , where Titmouse's descent from Stephen Dreddlinglon was sought to be established. This gentleman, who had been a very wild person , whose movements were very difficult to be traced or accounted for, had entered the navy, and ulti- mately died at sea, as had always been imagined, single and child- less. It was proved, however, that so far from such being the case , he had married a person at Portsmouth , of inferior station ; and that by her he had a daughter, only two years before his death. Both mother and daughter , after undergoing great privation , and no notice being taken of the mother by any of her late husband's family, removed to the house ofa humble and distant relative in Cumberland, where the mother afterwards died, leaving her daughter only fifteen years' old. When she grew up , she lived Iq 414 some menial capacity io Cumberland , and ultimately married one Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse; who, after living for some years a cordwainer at Wbitehavenj found bis way to Grilston, in York- shire, in the neighbourhood of which town he had lived for some years in very humble circumstances. There he had married ; and abouttwo years afterwards his wife died, leaving a son — our friend Tittlebat Titmouse. Both of them afterwards came to London: where, in four or five years' time, the father died, leaving the little Titmouse to flutter and hop about in the wide world as best he could. During the whole of this part of the case, Mr. Gammon had evinced deep anxiety ; and at a particular point — perhaps the crisis — his agitation was excessive; yet it was almost entirely con- cealed by his remarkable self-control. The little documentary evidence of which Gammon , at his first interview with Titmouse, found him possessed, proved at the trial, as Gammon had fore- seen, of great importance. The evidence in support of this part of the case, and which it took till two o'clock on the ensuing after- noon to get through, was subjected to a most determined and skil- ful opposition by the Attorney-General , but in vain. The case had been got up with the utmost care, under the excellent manage- ment of Lynx; and Mr. Subtle's consummate tact and ability broughit, at length, fully and distinctly out before the jury. "That, my Lord ," said he, as he sat down after re-examin- ing his last witness, "is the case on the part of the plaintiff." On this the judge and jury w ithdrew , for a short time , to obtain re- freshment. During their absence, the Attorney-General, Mr. Sterling, Mr. Crystal , and Mr. Mansfield, might have been seen, with their heads all laid close together, engaged in anxious con- sultation — a group gazed at by the eager eyes of many a spec- tator, whose beating heart wished their cause god-speed. The Attorney-General then withdrew for a few moments, also to seek refreshment; and returning at the same time with the judge, after a moment's pause rose, bowed to the judge, then to the jury, and opened the defendant's case. His manner was calm and impressive; his person was dignified; and his clear, distinct voice fell on the listening car like the sound of silver. After a graceful allusion to the distinguished character of his friend and 415 client, Mr. Aubrey, (to whose eminent position in the House of Commons he bore his personal testimony,) to the magnitude of the interests now at stake, and the extraordinary nature of the claim setup, he proceeded — "On every account, therefore, I feel sen- sible, gentlemen, to an unusual and most painful extent , of the very great responsibility now resting upon my learned friends and myself; lest any miscarriage of mine should prejudice in any de- gree theimportantinterests committed to us, or impair the strength of the case which I am about to submit to you on the part of Mr. Aubrey: a ease which, I assure you, unless some extraordinary mischance should befall us, will, I believe , annihilate that which, vilh so much pains, so much tact, and so much ability, has just been laid before you by my learned friend Mr. Subtle; and estab- lish the defendant in the safe possession of that large property which is the subject of the present most extraordinary and unex- pected litigation. But, gentlemen, before proceeding so far as that, it is fitting that I should call your attention to the nature of the case set up on the part of the plaintiff, and the sort of evidence by which it has been attempted to be supported ; and I am very sanguine of being successful in showing you that the plaintiffs witnesses are not entitled to the credit to which they lay claim; and, consequently, that there is no case made out for the defen- dant to answer." He then entered into a rigorous analysis of the plaintiff's evidence, constrasting each conflicting portion with the other, with singular cogency; and commenting with powerful severity upon the demeanour and character of many of the wit- nesses. On proceeding, at length, to open the case of the defen- dant — "And here, gentlemen," said he, "I am reminded of the observation with which my learned friend concluded — that he was entirely ignorant of the case which we meant to set up in answer to that which he had opened on the part of the plaintiff. Gentlemen, it would have been curious, indeed, had it been otherwise — had my friend's penetrating eye been able to inspect thecontents of my client's strong-box — and so become acquainted with the evidence on which he rests his title to the property now in dispute. My learned friend has, however, succeeded in en- titling himself to information on that point; and he shall have it A16 — and to his heart's content." Here Mr. Subtle cast a glance of smiling incredulity towards the jury, and deliance towards the Attorney-General. He took his pen into his hand, however, and his juniors looked very anxious. "Gentlemen," continued the Attorney-General, "lam ready to concede to my learned friend every inch of the case which he has been endeavouring to make out; that he has completely established his pedigree. — At all events, I am ready to concede this for the purpose of the case which is now under discussion before you." He then mentioned the conveyance by Harry Dreddlington of all his interest — "You forget that he died in his father's lifetime, Mr. Attorney-General," interposed Mr. Subtle with a placid smile, and the air of a maa who is suddenly relieved from a vast pressure of anxiety. "IS'ot a bit of it, gentlemen, not a bit of it — 't is a part of my case. My learned friend is quite right; Harry Dreddlington did die in his father's lifetime: — but" — Here Mr. Subtle gazed at the Attorney- General wilh unaffected curiosity; and when the latter came to mention "the Deed of Conjirmalion by the FATHER of Harry Dreddlington," an acute observer might ha\c observed a slight change of colour in Mr. Subtle. Lynx looked at the Attorney-General as if he expected every instant to receive a musket-ball in his breast! "What, ' co/ijii'tn' a nullity, Mr. Attorney-General?" inter- rupted Mr. Subtle, lading down his pen with a smile of derision; but a moment or two afterwards, "Mr. Mortmain," said he in a hasty whisper, "what do you think of this? Tell me — iu four words" — 3Ior(main, his eye glued to the face of the Attorney- General the while , muttered hastily something about — "operu- ti7ig as a neio gTunt — as a ?ie7v conveyance." "Pshaw! I mean what's the answer to the Attorney-Gene- ral?" muttered Mr. Subtle impatiently; but his countenance preserved its expression of smiling nonchalance. "You will oblige me, Mr. Mortmain," he by and by whispered, in a quiet but peremptory tone, "by giving your utmost attention to the question as to the effect of this deed — so that I may shape my objection to it properly when it is tendered in evidence. If it really have the legal effect attributed to it, and which I suspect 417 It really to have, we may as well shut up our briefs. I thought there must be some such cursed point or other io the back- ground ! " Gammon saw the real state of Mr. Subtle's mind, and his cheek turned pale, but he preserved a smile on his countenance, as he sat with his arms folded. Quirk eyed him with undisguised agitation , scarce daring to look up at iMr. Subtle. Titmouse, seeing a little dismay in his camp, turned very while and cold, and sat still, scarce daring to breathe; while Snap looked like a terrier consciously going to have its teeth pulled out ! At length the Attorney-General, after stating that, in addi- tion to the case which he had intimated, as resting mainly on the deed of confirmation, he should proceed to prove the pedigree of Mr. Aubrey, sat down, having spoken about two hours and a half, expressing his conviction that when the defendant's evidence should have been closed , the jury , under his Lordship's direction, would return a verdict for the defendant; and that, too, without leaving the jury-box, where, by their long and patient attention, they had so honourably acquitted themselves of the important duty imposed upon them by the constitution. "James Parkinson!" exclaimed Mr. Sterling, quietly but dis- tinctly, as (he Attorney-General sat down. "You are the attor- ney for the defendant?" enquired Mr. Sterling, as soon as the witness had been sworn. "Do you produce a conveyance be- tween Harry Dreddlington and Moses Aaron?" (tc. (specifying it.) It was proved and put in, without much opposition. So also was another — the assignment from Moses Aaron to Geoffry Dreddlington. "Do you also produce a deed between Harry Dreddlington the elder and GeofTry Dreddlington?" and he mentioned the date and names of all the parties to the deed of conGrmation. Mr. Parkin- son handed in the important document. "Stay, stay; where did you get that deed, Mr. Parkinson?" enquired Mr. Subtle sharply, extending his hand for the deed. "From my office at Grilston , where I keep many of Mr. Au- brey's title deeds." "When did you bring it hither?" Ten Thousand u-yeart I, 07 418 "About ten o'clock last night, for Ihe purpose of this trial." "How long has it been at your office?" "Ever since I fetched it, a year or two ago, with other deeds, from the muniment-room of Yatton Hall." "How long have you been solicitor to Mr. Aubrey?" "For this ten years; and my father was solicitor to his father for twenty-five years." "Will you swear that this deed was in your ofTice before the proceedings in this action were brought to your notice?" "I have not the slightest doubt in the world." "That does not satisfy me, Sir. Will you sivenr that it was?" "Izvill, Sir," replied Mr. Parkinson firmly. "It never attract- ed any more notice from me than any other of Mr. Aubrey's deeds, till my attention was drawn to it in consequence of these proceedings." "Has anyone access to Mr. Aubrey's deeds at your office but yourself?" "None that I know of; I keep all the deeds of my clients which are at my office, in their respective boxes; and allow no one access to them, except under my immediate notice, and in my presence." Then Mr. Subtle sat down. "My Lord, we now propose to put in this deed," said the Attorney-General , unfolding it. "Allow me to look at it, Mr. Attorney," said Mr. Subtle. It was handed to him; and he, his juniors, and Mr. Mortmain, rising up, were engaged most anxiously in scrutinizing it for some minutes. Mortmain having looked at the stamp, sat down, and opening his bag, hastily drew out an old well-worn volume, which contained all the stamp acts that had ever been passed from the time of William the Third, when, I believe, the first of those blessings was conferred upon this country. First he looked at the deed — then at his book — then at the deed again; and at length might be seen, with earnest gestures, putting Mr. Subtle in possession of some opinion which he had formed on the subject. "My Lord," said Mr. Subtle alter a pause, "I object to this instrument being received in evidence, on account of the insuffi- 419 cicncy of the stamp." This produced quite a sensation in court. Mr. Subtle then proceeded to mention the character of the stamp a(Ii\cd to the deed , and read the act which was in force at the time that the deed bore date; and, after a few additional obser- vations, sat down, and was followed by Mr. Quicksilver and Mr. Lynx. Then arose the Attorney-General , having in the mean time carefully looked at the act of Parliament, and submitted to his Lordship that the stamp was sufficient; being followed by his juniors. Mr. Subtle replied at some length. "I certainly entertain some difficulty on the point," said his Lordship, "and will mention the matter to my brother Grayley." Taking with him the deed , and Mr. Mortmain's copy of the Stamp Acts, his Lordship left the court, and was absent a quarter of an hour — half an hour — three quarters of an hour; and at length returned. "1 have consulted," said his Lordship, as soon as he had taken his seat amidst the profoundest silence, "my brother Grayley, and we have very fully considered the point. My brother happens, fortunately, to have by him a manuscript note of a case in which he was counsel , about eighteen years ago , and in which the exact point arose which exists in the present case." He then read out of a thick manuscript book, which he had brought with him from Mr. Justice Grayley, the particulars of the case alluded to, and which were certainly almost precisely similar to those then before the court. In the case referred to, the stamp had been held sufficient; and so, his Lordship and his brother Grayley were of opinion, was the stamp in the deed then before him. The cloud which had settled upon the countenances of the Attorney-General and his party, here flitted over to, and settled upon, those of his opponents. ''Your Lordship will perhaps take a note of the objection," said 3Ir. Subtle, somewhat chagrined. Lord Wid- driugton nodded, and immediately made the requisite entry in his notes. "Now, then, we propose to put in and read this deed," said the Attorney-General with a smile of suppressed triumph, holding out his hand towards Mr. Lynx, who was scrutinizing it very eagerly — "I presume my learned friend will require only the 27* 420 operative parts to be read" — here Lynx, with some excitement, called his leader's attention to something which had occurred to him in the deed: up got Quicksilver and Mortmain; and pre- sently — "Not quite so fast, Mr. Attorney, if you please," said Mr. Subtle with a little elation of manner — "I have another, and I apprehend a clearly fatal objection to the admissibility of this deed, till my learned friend shall have accounted for an era- sure " — "Erasure! " echoed the Attorney-General with much surprise — "Allow me to see the deed ; " and he took it with an incredu- lous smile, which, however, disappeared as he looked more and more closely at the instrument; Mr. Sterling, Mr. Crystal, and Mr. Mansfield also looking extremely serious. "I've hit them Jiow ," said Mr. Subtle to those behind him, as he leaned back, and looked with no little triumph at his oppo- nents — ^'■IVas there ever any thing so lucky in this world before?" From what apparently inadequate and trifling causes often flow great results! The plain fact of the case was merely this. The attorney's clerk , in copying out the deed , which was one of con- siderable length , had written eight or ten words by mistake ; and fearing to exasperate his master, by rendering necessary a new deed and stamp, and occasioning trouble and delay, had neatly scratched out the erroneous words, and over the erasure written the correct ones. As he was the party who was entrusted with seeing to and witnessing the execution of the instrument, he of course took no notice of the alteration , and — see the result! The ownership of an estate of ten thousand a-year about to turn upon the eff'ecl of this erasure ! "Hand me up the deed," said the Judge; and inspected it minutely for a minute or two, holding it up, once or twice, to the light. "Has any one a magnifying glass in court?" enquired the Attorney-General, with a look of increasing anxiety. No one happened to have one. "Is it necessary, Mr. Attorney?" said Lord Widdrington, handing down the instrument to him with an ominous look. 421 "Well — you object , of course, Mr. Subtle — as I understand you — that this deed is void, on account of an erasure in a mate- rial part of it?" enquired Lord Widdrington. "That is my objection, my Lord," said Mr. Subtle, silting down. "Now, Mr. Attorney," continued the Judge, turning to the Attorney-General, prepared to take a note of any observations which he might offer. The spectators — the whole court — were aware that the great crisis of the case had arrived ; and there was a sickening silence. The Attorney-General , with perfect calmness and self-possession, immediately addressed the court in answer to this very critical and unexpected objection. That there 7vas an erasure, which, owing to the hurry with which the instrument had been examined, had been overlooked, was indisputable. The Attorney-General's argument was, first, that the erasure was in a part not material ; secondly , that even if in a material part of the deed, it would not be avoided, but the alteration would be presumed to have taken place before the execution of the deed.* It was easy to see that he spoke with the air of a man who argues contra spcm. What he said, however, was pertinent and forcible; the same might be said of Mr. Sterling and Mr. Crystal ; but they were all plainly gravelled. Mr. Subtle replied with cruel cogency. "Well," said Lord Widdrington, when Mr. Subtle had con- cluded, " I own I feel scarcely any doubt upon the matter ; but as it is certainly of the greatest possible importance in the present case, I will just see how it strikes my brother Grayley." With this he took the deed in his hand and quitted the court. He touched Mr. Aubrey, in passing to his private room, holding the deed before him ! After an absence of about ten minutes , Lord Widdrington returned. "Silence! silence there!" bawled the crier; and the bustle had soon subsided into profound silence. "I think, and my brother Grayley agrees with me," said Lord Widdrington , " that I ought not to receive this deed in evidence, * See, for a discussion of this point, the preliminary note to Vol. II., Chapter V. 422 unless the erasure occurring in an essential part of it be first accounted for. Unless, therefore, you are prepared, Mr. At- torney, with any evidence of that kind, I shall not receive the deed." The Attorney-General bowed , in silence , to his Lordship. There was a faint buzz all over the court — a buzz of excite- ment, anxiety, and disappointment ; during which the Attorney- General consulted for a moment or two with his juniors. "Undoubtedly, my Lord," said he at length, "we are not prepared with any evidence to explain a circumstance which has taken us entirely by surprise. After this length of time, my Lord, of course" — " Certainly — it is a great misfortune for the parties — a great misfortune. Of course you tender the deed in evidence?" he con- tinued, taking a note. "We do, my Lord, certainly," replied the Attorney-General : and sitting down , he and his juniors took a note of the decision ; Lord Widdrington and the Attorney- General's opponents doing the same. You should have seen the faces of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, as they looked at Mr. Parkinson, with an agitated air, returning the rejected deed to the bag from which it had been lately taken with so confident and triumphant an air! — The remainder of the case, which had been opened by the Attorney- General on behalf of Mr. Aubrey, was then proceeded with ; but in spite of all their assumed calmness, the disappointment and dis- tress of his counsel were perceptible to all. They were now de- jected — they felt that the cause was lost, unless some extraordi- nary good fortune should yet befall them. They were not long in establishing the descent of Mr. Aubrey fromGeoffryDreddiinglon. It was necessary to do so; for grievously as they had been dis- appointed in failing to establish the title paramount, founded upon the deed of conBrmation of Mr. Aubrey, it was yet an im- portant question for the jury, whether they believed the evidence adduced by the plaintilTto show title in himself. "That, my Lord, is the defendant's case ," said the Attorney- General as his last witness left the box ; and Mr. Subtle then rose to reply. He felt how unpopular was his cause; that almost every 423 countenance around him bore a hostile eipression. Privately, he loathed his case, when he saw the sort of person for whom he was struggling. Ail his sympathies — he was a \cry proud . haughty man — were on behalf of Mr. .\ubrey. whom by name and reputa- tion he well knew, and with whom he had often sat iu the House of Commons. Now, conspicuous before him, sat his litllo monkey- client . Titmouse — a ridiculous object ; and calculated, if there were any scope for the inlluence of prejudice, to ruin his own cause by the exhibition of himself before the jury. That was the \ulgar idiot who was to turn the admirable Aubreys out of Yatton, and send them beggared into the world ! — But Mr. Subtle was a high-minded English ad\ocate; and if he had seen Miss Aubrey iu all her loveliness, and knew that her all depended upon the success of his exertions, he could hardly have exerted himself more strenuously than he did on the present occasion. And such, at length, was the ellVct which that exquisitely skilful ad\ocaie produced , in his address to the jury , that he began to bring about a change in the feelings of most around him; even the eye of scornful beauty began to direct fewer glances of indignation and disgust upon Titmouse, as Mr. Subtle's irresistible rhetoric drew upon their sympathies in that young gentleman's behalf. "i^Iy learned friend, the Attorney-General, gentlemen, dropped one or two expressions of a somewhat disparaging tendency," said Mr. Subtle, "in alluding to my client . .AFr. Titmouse; and sha- dowed forth a disad\anlageous contrast between the obscure and ignorant [daintitT, and the gillcd defendant. Good Heavens, gentlemen! and rs my humble client's misfortune to become his fault? If he be obscure and ignorant, unacquainted wiih the usages of society, deprived of the blessings of a superior education if he have conlracled vulgarity, whose fault is it? — Who has occasioned it? Who plunged him and his parents before him. into an injust po\erly and obscurity, from which Providence is about this day to rescue him, and put him in possession of his own? Gentlemen, if topics like these must be introduced into this case, I ask you ir/io is accoi/ntaljle for the present condition of my unfortunate client? Is he, or are those who have been, perhaps unconsciously, but still unjustly, so long revelling iu the 424 wealth which is his? Gentlemen, in the name of every thing that is manly and generous, I challenge your sympathy, your com- miseration, for ray client." Here Titmouse, who had been staring open-mouthed for some time at his eloquent advocate, and could be kept quiet no longer by the most vehement efforts of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, rose up in an excited manner, ex- claiming, "Bravo! bravo, bravo, Sir! 'Pon my life, capital ! It 's quite true — bravo! bravo!" His astounded advocate paused at this unprecedented interruption. "Take the puppy out of court, Sir, or I will not utter one word more ," said he in a fierce whisper to Mr. Gammon. "Who is that? Leave the court. Sir! Your conduct is most- indecent, Sir! I have a great mind to commit you, Sir!" said Lord Widdrington, directing an awful look down to the offender, who had turned of a ghastly whiteness. "Have mercy upon me, my Lord! I 'II never do it again," he groaned, clasping his hands, and verily believing that Lord Wid- drington was going to take the estate away from him. Snap at length succeeded in gelling him out of court, and after the excitement occasioned by this irregular interruption had sub- sided, Mr. Subtle resumed: — " Gentlemen," said he, in a low tone, "I perceive that you are moved by this little incidenl ; and it is characteristic of your supe- rior feelings. Inferior persons, destitute of sensibility or refine- ment, might have smiled at eccentricities, which occasion gentle- men like yourselves only feelings of greater commiseration. I protest, gentlemen" — his voice trembled for a moment, but he soon resumed his self-possession ; and, after a long and admirable address, sale down, confident of the verdict. "If we lose the verdict. Sir," said he, bending down and whispering into the ear of Gammon, "we may thank that execrable lillie puppy for it.'' Gammon changed colour, but made no reply. Lord Widdrington then commenced summing up the case to the jury with his usual care and perspicacity. Nothing could be more beautiful than the ease with which he extraicated the facts of the case from the meshes in which they had been alternately 425 involved by Mr. Subtle and the Attorney-General. As soon as he had explained to (hem the general principles of law applicable to the case, he placed before them the facts proved by the plaintiff, and then the answer of the defendant: every one in court trembling for the result , if the jury should take the same view which he felt compelled himself to take. The judge suggested that they should retire to consider the case, taking with them the pedigrees which had been handed in to them; and added that, if they should require his assistance, he should remain in his private room for an hour or two. Both judge and jury then retired , it being about eight o'clock. Candles were lit in the court, which continued crowded to suffocation. Few doubted which way the verdict would go. Fatigued as must have been most of the spectators with a two days' confinement and excitement — ladies as well as gentlemen — scarce a person thought of quilting before the verdict had been pronounced. After an hour and a hall's absence , a cry was heard from the bailiff in whose charge the jury had retired — "Clear the way for the jury;" and one or two officers, with their wands, obeyed the directions. As the jury were re-entering their box, struggling with a little difficulty through the crowd, Lord Wid- drington resumed his seat upon the bench. "Gentlemen of the jury, have the goodness," said the asso- ciate, "to answer to your names. — Sir Godolphm Fitzherbert '' — and, while their names were thus called over, all the counsel took their pens, and, turning over their briefs with an air of anxiety , prepared to indorse on them the verdict. As soon as all the jurymen had answered, a profound silence ensued. "Gentlemen of the jury," enquired the associate, "are you agreed upon your verdict? Do you find for the plaintiff, or for the defendant?" "For thk plaintiff," replied the foreman; on which the officer, amidst a kind of blank dismayed silence, making at the same time some hieroglyphics upon the record, muttered — '•Verdict for Ihe Plaintiff'. — Damages one shilling'. Costs, forti/ shillings;" while another functionary bawled out , amidst the in- creasing buzz in the court, "Have the goodness to wait, gentlemen of the jury. You will be paid immediately." Whereupon, to the 426 disgust and indignation of the unlearned spectators, and Ihe astonishment of some of the gentlemen of the jury themselves — many of them the very first men of the county — Snap jumped up on the furm , pulled out his purse with an air of wild evultalion, and proceeded to remunerate Sir Godolphin Filzherbert and his companions with Ihe sum of two guineas each. Proclamation was then made, and the court adjourned lill the next morning. END OF VOL. I. I PRINTED BY BERNHAKD TAUCHNITZ. J^^*^ PTtV '^mz. m ;?:* i^ tW i*; V . **V - » * V >.fT^ • Nil Jk ' ftMy: 3 i2l0 OOMS'SSO' M-