CHAPTER II.

A few minutes after ten o'clock that night, a gentle ringing at the bell

of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's office, announced the arrival of

poor Titmouse. The door was quickly opened by a very fashionably dressed

clerk, who seemed in the act of quitting for the night.

"Ah--Mr. Titmouse, I presume?" he inquired, with a kind of deference in

his manner to which Titmouse had never been accustomed.

"The same, sir--Tittlebat Titmouse."

"Oh! allow me, sir, to show you in to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; I

know they're expecting to see you. It's not 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 farther side of it, announced and showed in

Mr. Titmouse, and left him--sufficiently 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.

"Mr. Titmouse," said he, with a very polite air, "let me introduce you

to Mr. Quirk"--(This was the senior partner, a short, stout elderly

gentleman, dressed in black, with a shining bald crown fringed with

white 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--_so_ 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

gentlemanly 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. Gammon, kindly; "more so

than, I fear, 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.

"I am, indeed, sir. Such a towering rage as he has been in ever since;

and he's given me warning to go on the 10th of next month." He thought

he observed a faint smile flit over the faces of all three. "He has,

indeed!"

"Dear me, Mr. Titmouse!--Did he allege any reason for dismissing you?"

keenly inquired Mr. Quirk.

"Yes, sir"----

"What might it have been?"

"Stopping out longer than I was allowed, and refusing to tell him what

this gentleman and I had been talking about."

"Don't think that'll do; sure it won't!" briskly exclaimed Mr. Snap; "no

just cause of dismissal that," and he jumped up, whisked down a book

from the shelves behind him, and eagerly turned over the leaves.

"Never mind that now, Mr. Snap," said Mr. Quirk, rather petulantly;

"surely we have other matters to talk about to-night!"

"Asking pardon, sir, but I think it _does_ matter to me, sir,"

interposed Titmouse; "for on the 10th of next month I'm a beggar--being

next door to it _now_."

"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 interjected 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?" inquired Mr. Quirk.

"He 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 _may_ not signify much, by that time;" said Mr. Quirk,

and laughed again, followed by the soft laugh of Mr. Gammon, and a kind

of sharp quick sound, like a bark, from Mr. Snap.

"But, gents, you'll excuse me if I say I think it _does_ signify to

_me_, and a'n't any laughing matter, by any means!" quoth Titmouse,

earnestly, and coloring with anger. "Without being rude, I'd rather come

to business, if there's any to be done, without so much laughing at

one."

"Laughing at you! my dear sir,--no, no!" exclaimed all three in a

breath--"laughing _with_ you," said Mr. Quirk!--"By the time you

mention, you may perhaps be able to laugh at Mr. Rag-bag, and everybody

else, for"----

[--"No use mincing matters?" he whispered, in a low tone, 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 expect 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 essential_--a prospect--we

say at present, you will observe, _only_ a prospect--of a surprising and

splendid change in your circumstances!" 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 with the important communication which

trembled on the tip of his tongue, "that you 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 everything appeared to be swimming around him, and he

felt a sort of faintness or sickness stealing over him. They had hardly

been prepared for their communication'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 estimate 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' time

followed, with a large tumbler of dark brandy and water, quite hot, for

which Mr. Gammon apologized, but Mr. Titmouse said he preferred it

so--and soon addressed himself to the inspiriting mixture. It quickly

manifested its influence, reassuring him wonderfully. As he sat sipping

it, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap being engaged in an earnest

conversation, of which 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 they all of them often and earnestly looked,

filled with marks, so--

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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, supported 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 earthly

assistance_; but he prudently pressed the matter no farther--that was

all Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's look-out; _he_ had been no party

to anything of the sort, nor would he knowingly. He also observed the

same sheets of 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 addressed questions

to him, but found it somewhat difficult to keep his attention up to

anything 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.

"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 the paper before Mr. Quirk. "This Tittlebat Titmouse's title must

have accrued in 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--"if _you_ turn out to be the Titmouse we have

been speaking of, you are likely, through our immense exertions, to

become one of the luckiest men that ever lived! We may be 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 £10,000 or

£12,000 a-year at the least!"

"You--don't--say--so!" exclaimed Titmouse, elevating his hands and

opening his eyes with amazement--"Oh, gents, I do believe we're all

dreaming! Is it all true, indeed?"

"It is, Mr. Titmouse--and we are very proud and happy indeed to be the

honored 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?"

"_If_ 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 ere long, for somebody--but we've a vast deal to go

through, and a vast deal of money to be spent, before we come to discuss

_that_ matter! Only let us have the unspeakable happiness of seeing you

once fairly in possession of your estates, and our office shall know no

rest till you have got all you may be entitled to--even to the

uttermost farthing!"

"Oh, never fear our letting them rest!" said Mr. Quirk, judiciously

accommodating himself to the taste and apprehension of his excited

auditor--"Those that must give up the goose, must give up the giblets

also--ha, ha, ha!" Messrs. Gammon and Snap echoed the laugh, duly

tickled with the joke of the head of the firm.

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Titmouse, immensely excited by the conjoint

influence of the brandy, and the news of the night; "capital! capital!

hurrah! Such goings on there will be! You're all of the right sort,

gents, I see! 'Pon my life, law for ever! There's _nothing_ like it!

Let's all shake hands, gents! Come, if you please, all together! all

friends to-night!" And the little fellow grasped each of the three

readily-proffered right hands of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, with

an energy that was likely to make all the high contracting parties to

that quadruple alliance, remember its ratification.

"And is it all a _ready-money_ affair, gents?--or _rent_, and all _that_

kind of thing?" he inquired, after many eloquent expressions of delight.

"Why, almost entirely the latter," answered Mr. Quirk, "except the

accumulations."

"Then, 'pon my soul--I'm a great landlord, am I?"

"Indeed, my dear Mr. Titmouse, you are--(that is, unless we have made a

blunder such as--I will say--our house is not _often_ in the habit of

making)--and have two very fine houses, one in town and the other in the

country."

"Capital! delightful! I'll live in both of them--we'll have _such_

goings on!--And is it _quite_ up to the mark of £10,000 a-year?"

"We really entertain no doubt at present that it is"----

"And such as that I can spend all of it, every year?"

"Certainly--no doubt of it--not the least. The rents are paid with most

exemplary punctuality--at least," added Mr. Gammon, with a captivating,

an irresistible smile, and taking him affectionately by the hand--"at

least they _will_ be, as soon as we have them fairly in _our_

management."

"Oh, _you're_ to get it all in for me, are you?" he inquired briskly.

The three partners bowed, with the most deprecatingly-disinterested air

in the world; intimating that, for _his_ sake, they were ready to take

upon themselves even _that_ troublesome responsibility.

"Capital! couldn't be better! couldn't be better! Ah, ha, ha--you've

catched the goose, and must bring me its eggs. Ah, ha, ha! a touch in

_your_ line, old gent!" said he, slapping Mr. Quirk's knee.

"Ha, ha, ha! excellent! ah, ha, ha!" laughed the three partners at the

wit of their new client. Mr. Titmouse joined them, and snapped his

fingers in the air. Then he added suddenly--

"Lord--by the way--I've just thought of Tag-rag and Company's--I seem as

if I hadn't seen or heard of those gents for Lord knows how long! Only

fancy old Tag-rag making me a beggar on the 10th of next month--ha, ha,

ha!--I sha'n't see _that_ infernal hole any more, anyhow!"

["There!" whispered Mr. Gammon, suddenly and apprehensively, in the ear

of Mr. Quirk, "you hear that? A little wretch! We have been perfectly

insane in going so far already with him! Is not this what I

predicted?"--"I don't care," said Mr. Quirk, stubbornly. "Who first

found it out, Mr. Gammon? and who's to be at the expense and

responsibility? Pshaw! I know what I'm about--_I'll_ make him knuckle

down--never fear me! Caleb Quirk a'n't a man to be trifled with!"]

"_That_," continued Titmouse, snapping his fingers with an air of

defiance--"for Mr. Tag-rag! _That_ for Mother Squallop--Ah, ha, gents!

It won't do to go back to that--eugh!--eh? will it?--you know what I

mean! Fancy Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse--or Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse,

_Esquire_--standing behind"----

The partners looked rather blank at this unexpected sally.

"We would venture to suggest, Mr. Titmouse," said Mr. Gammon, seriously,

"the _absolute necessity_ there is for everything on your part, and our

parts, to go on as quietly as before, for a little time to come: to be

safe and successful, my dear sir, we must be very--very _secret_."

"Oh, I see, gents! I see; mum--mum's the word, for the present! But, I

_must_ say, if there is any one whom I want to hear of it, sooner than

another, it's"----

"Rag-bag and Co., I suppose! ha, ha, ha!" interrupted Mr. Gammon, his

partners echoing his gentle laugh.

"Ha, ha, ha! Cuss the cats--that's it--ha, ha, ha!" echoed Mr. Titmouse;

who, getting up out of his chair, could not resist capering to and fro,

sticking his hands on his hips, in something of the attitude of a

hornpipe dancer, whistling and humming by turns, and indulging in

various other wild antics.

"And now, gents--excuse me, but, to do a bit of business--when am I to

_begin_ scattering the shiners, eh?" he inquired, interrupting a

low-toned, but somewhat vehement conversation, between the two senior

partners; while Snap sat silently eying him like a terrier a rat coming

within his reach!

"Oh, of course, sir!" replied Mr. Gammon, rather coldly,

"very--considerable--delay is unavoidable. All we have done, as yet, is

to discover that, as far as we are advised, and can judge, you will turn

out to be the right owner; but--as we've already intimated--very

extensive and expensive operations must be immediately commenced, before

you can be put into possession. There are some who won't be persuaded to

_part_ with £10,000 a-year, Mr. Titmouse, for the mere asking!" added

Mr. Gammon, with an anxious and bitter smile.

"The devil there are! _Who_ are they that want to keep me any longer out

of what's my own?--what's justly mine? Eh? I want to know! Haven't they

kept me out long enough?--hang 'em! Put 'em in prison directly--don't

spare 'em--the villains!"

"They'll probably, ere long, find their way in that direction--for how,"

replied Mr. Quirk, "he's ever to make up, poor devil, the mesne

profits"----

"_Mean_ profits?--is that all you call them, gents? 'Pon my life, it's

rogue's money--villain's profits! So don't spare him--d--n him!--he's

robbed the fatherless, which I am, and an orphan. Keep me out of what's

mine, indeed! Curse me if he shall, though!"

"My dear Mr. Titmouse," said Gammon, very gravely, "we are getting on

too fast--dreadfully too fast. It will never do, matters of such immense

importance as these cannot be hurried on, or talked of, in this way"----

"I like that, sir!--I do, by Jove!"--exclaimed Titmouse, scornfully.

"You will really, if you go on in this wild way, Mr. Titmouse, make us

regret the trouble we have taken in the affair, and especially the

promptness with which we have communicated to you the extent of your

_possible_ good fortune."

"Beg pardon, I'm sure, gents, but mean no offence: am monstrous obliged

to you for what you've done for me--but, by Jove, it's taken me rather

a-back, I own, to hear that I'm to be kept so long out of it all! Why

can't you offer him, whoever he is that has my property, a slapping sum

to go out at once? Gents, I'll own to you I'm most uncommon low--never

so low in my life--devilish low! Done up, and yet it seems a'n't to get

what's justly mine! What am I to do in the meanwhile? Consider _that_,

gents!"

"You are rather excited just now, Mr. Titmouse," said Mr. Quirk,

seriously; "suppose we now break up, and resume our conversation

to-morrow, when we are all in better and calmer trim?"

"No, sir, thanking you all the same; but I think we'd better go on with

it now," replied Titmouse, impetuously. "Do you think I can stoop to go

back to that nasty, beastly shop, and stand behind that odious

counter?--I'd almost as lieve go to the gallows!"

"Our _decided_ opinion, Mr. Titmouse," said Mr. Quirk, emphatically--his

other partners getting graver and graver in their looks--"that is, if

our opinion is worth offering"----

"That, by Jove! remains to be seen," said Titmouse, with a pettish shake

of the head.

"Well, such as it is, we offer it you; and it is, that for many reasons

you must continue, for a little while longer, in your present

situation"----

"What! own Tag-rag for my master--and I worth £10,000 a-year?"

interrupted Titmouse, furiously.

"My dear sir, you've not _got_ it yet," said Mr. Quirk, with a very

bitter smile.

"Do you think you'd have told me what you have, if you weren't sure that

I _should_, though? No, no! you've gone too far, by Jove!--but I shall

burst, I shall! Me to go on as before!--they use me worse and worse

every day. Gents, you'll excuse me--I hope you will; but business is

business, gents--it is; and if you won't do mine, I must look out for

them that will--'pon my soul, I must, and"--If Mr. Titmouse could have

seen, or having seen, appreciated, the looks which the three partners

interchanged, on hearing this absurd, ungrateful, and insolent speech of

his--the expression that flitted across their shrewd faces; that was, of

intense contempt for him, hardly overmastered and concealed by a vivid

perception of their own interest, which was, of course, to _manage_, to

soothe, to conciliate him!

How the reptile propensities of his mean nature had thriven beneath the

sudden sunshine of unexpected prosperity!--See already his selfishness,

truculence, rapacity, in full play!

"So, gents," said he, after a long and keen expostulation with them on

the same subject, "I'm really to go to-morrow morning to Tag-rag and

Co.'s, and go on with the cursed life I led there to-day, all as if

nothing had happened--ha, ha, ha!--I do so like that!"

"In your present humor, Mr. Titmouse, it would be in vain to discuss the

matter," said Mr. Quirk, sternly. "Again I tell you that the course we

have recommended is, in our opinion, the proper one; excuse me if I add,

that you are entirely in our hands--and if I ask you--what _can_ you do

but adopt our advice?"

"Why, hang me if I won't employ somebody else--that's flat! S' elp me,

Heaven, I will! So, good-night, gents; you'll find that Tittlebat

Titmouse isn't to be trifled with!" So saying, Mr. Titmouse clapped his

hat on his head, bounced out of the room, and, no attempt being made to

stop him, he was in the street in a twinkling.

Mr. Gammon gazed at Mr. Quirk with a look, the significance of which the

astounded old gentleman thoroughly understood--'twas compounded of

triumph, reproach, and apprehension.

"Did you ever see such a little beast!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, with an air

of disgust, turning to Mr. Snap.

"Beggar on horseback!" exclaimed Snap, with a bitter sneer.

"It won't do, however," said Mr. Quirk, with a most chagrined and

apprehensive air, "for him to go at large in his present frame of

mind--he may ruin the thing altogether"----

"As good as £500 a-year out of the way of the office," quoth Snap.

"It cannot be helped _now_," said Mr. Gammon, with a sigh of vexation,

turning to Mr. Quirk, and seizing his hat--"he must be managed--so I'll

go after him instantly, and bring him back at all hazards; and we must

really try and do something for him in the meanwhile, to keep him quiet

till the thing's brought a little into train." So out went after

Titmouse, Mr. Gammon, from whose lips dropped persuasion sweeter than

honey;[3] and I should not be surprised if he were to succeed in

bringing back that little stubborn piece of conceited stupidity.

As soon as Mr. Titmouse heard the street door shut after him with a kind

of _bang_, he snapped his fingers once or twice, by way of letting off a

little of the inflammable air that was in him, and muttered, "Pretty

chaps those, upon my soul!" said he, disdainfully. "I'll expose them

all! I'll apply to the lord-mayor--they're a pack of swindlers, they

are! This is the way they treat _me_, who've got a title to £10,000

a-year! To be sure"--He stood still for a moment--and another

moment--and another--and then dismay came quickly over him; for the

thought suddenly occurred to his partially obfuscated intellect--what

_hold_ had he got on Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap?--what _could_ he

do?--or rather, what HAD he done?

Ah--the golden vision of the last few hours was fading away

momentarily, like a dream! Each second of his deep and rapid reflection,

rendered more impetuous his desire and determination to return and make

his peace with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. By submission for the

present, he could get the whip-hand of them hereafter! He was in the act

of turning round towards the office, when Mr. Gammon gently laid his

hand upon the shoulder of his repentant client.

"Mr. Titmouse! my dear sir," said Mr. Gammon, softly, "what is the

matter with you? How could we so misunderstand each other?"

Titmouse's small cunning was on the _qui vive_, and he saw and followed

up his advantage. "I am going," said he, in a resolute tone, "to speak

to some one else in the morning."

"Ah, to be sure!" replied Mr. Gammon, with a smile of utter

unconcern--"I supposed as much--'tis a matter which of course, however,

signifies nothing to any one--but yourself. You will take any steps, my

dear sir, that occur to you, and act as you may be advised!"

"Monstrous kind of you, 'pon my life! to come and give me such good

advice!" exclaimed Titmouse, with a sneer--but consciously baffled.

"Oh, don't mention it!" said Gammon, coolly; "I came out of pure

good-nature, to assure you that our office, notwithstanding what has

passed, entertains not the slightest personal ill feeling towards you,

in thus throwing off our hands a fearfully expensive, and most harassing

enterprise--which we have feared from the first had been too rashly

undertaken"----

"Hem!" exclaimed Titmouse, involuntarily, once or twice.

"So good-night, Mr. Titmouse--good-night! God bless you! and think

hereafter of all this as a mere idle dream--as far as _we_ are

concerned!" Mr. Gammon, in the act of returning to the door, extended

his hand to Mr. Titmouse, whom he instantly perceived to be melting

rapidly.

"Why, sir," quoth Titmouse, with a mixture of embarrassment and alarm,

"if I thought you all meant the correct thing--hem! I say, the _correct_

thing by me--I shouldn't so much mind a little disappointment for the

time; but you must own, Mr. Gammon, it is very hard being kept out of

one's own so long--honor, now! isn't it?"

"True, very true, Mr. Titmouse. Very hard it is, indeed, to bear, and we

all felt deeply for you, and would have set everything in train"----

"_Would have!_ oh my stars!"----

"Yes, my dear Mr. Titmouse, we _would_ have done it, and believed we

could have brought you through every difficulty--over every obstacle,

prodigious though they are, and almost innumerable."

"Why--you--don't--hardly--quite--mean to say you've given it all

up?--What, already! 'Pon my life! Oh Lord!" exclaimed Titmouse, in

evident trepidation.

Mr. Gammon had triumphed over Mr. Titmouse! whom, nothing loath, he

brought back, in two minutes' time, into the room which Titmouse had

just before so insolently quitted. Mr. Quirk and Mr. Snap had now

_their_ parts to perform in the little scene which they had determined

on enacting. They were in the act of locking up desks and drawers,

evidently on the move, and received Mr. Titmouse with an air of cold

surprise.

"Mr. Titmouse again!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, taking his gloves out of his

hat. "Back again!--This, sir, is quite an unexpected honor!"

"Leave anything behind?" inquired Mr. Snap, affecting to look about

him--"don't _see_ anything"----

"Oh no, sir! No, sir!" exclaimed Titmouse, with eager anxiety. "This

gent, Mr. Gammon, and I, have made it all up, gents! I'm not angry any

more--not the least, 'pon my soul I'm not--and quite forgive you--and no

mistake!"

"_Angry!_--_Forgive!!_ Mr. Titmouse!" echoed Mr. Quirk, with an air

sternly ironical. "We are under great obligations to you for your

forbearance!"

"Oh, come, gents!" said Titmouse, more and more disturbed, "I _was_ too

warm, I dare say, and--and--I ask your pardon, all of you, gents! I

won't say another word if you'll but buckle to business again--quite

exactly in your own way--because you see"----

"It's growing _very_ late," said Mr. Quirk, coldly, and looking at his

watch; "however, after what you have said, probably at some future time,

when we've _leisure_ to look into the thing"----

Poor Titmouse was near dropping on his knees, in mingled agony and

fright.

"May I be allowed to say," interposed the bland voice of Mr. Gammon,

anxiously addressing himself to Mr. Quirk, "that Mr. Titmouse a few

minutes ago assured me, outside there, that if you, as the head of the

firm, could only be persuaded to permit our house to take up his case

again"----

"I did--I did indeed, gents! so help me----!" interrupted Mr. Titmouse,

eagerly backing with an oath the ready lie of Mr. Gammon.

Mr. Quirk, with a stern countenance, drew his hand across his chin

musingly, and stood silently for a few moments, apparently irresolute.

"Well," said he at length, but very coldly, "since that is so, probably

we may be induced to resume our heavy labors in your behalf; and if you

will favor us with a call to-morrow night, at the same hour, we may

have, by that time, made up our minds as to the course we shall think

fit to adopt."

"Lord, sir, I'll be here as the clock strikes, and as meek as a mouse;

and pray, have it all your own way for the future, gents--do!"--cried

Titmouse, clasping his hands together on his breast.

"Good-night, sir--good-night!" exclaimed the partners,

stiffly--motioning him towards the door.

"Good-night, gents!" said Titmouse, bowing very low, and feeling himself

at the same time being--bowed _out_! As he passed out of the room, he

cast a lingering look at their three frigid faces, as if they were

angels sternly shutting him out from Paradise. What misery was his, as

he walked slowly homeward, with much the same feelings (now that the

fumes of the brandy had somewhat evaporated, and the reaction of

excitement was coming on, aggravated by a recollection of the desperate

check he had received) as those of a sick and troubled man, who,

suddenly roused out of a delicious dream, drops into wretched reality,

as it were out of a fairyland, which, with all its dear innumerable

delights, is melting overhead into thin air--disappearing, _forever_!

Closet Court had never looked so odious to him as it did on his return

from this memorable interview. Dreadfully distressed and harassed, he

flung himself on his bed for a moment, directly he had shut his door,

intending presently to rise and undress; but Sleep, having got him

prostrate, secured her victory. She waved her black wand over him,

and--he awoke not completely till about eight o'clock in the morning. A

second long-drawn sigh was preparing to follow its predecessor, when he

heard the clock strike eight, and sprang off the bed in a fright; for he

ought to have been at the shop an hour before. Dashing a little water

into his face, and scarce staying to wipe it off, he ran down-stairs,

through the court, and along the street, never stopping till he had

found his way into--almost the very arms of the dreaded Mr. Tag-rag;

who, rarely making his appearance till about half-past nine, had, as the

deuce would have it, happened to come down an hour and a half earlier

than usual on that particular morning, the only one out of several

hundreds on which Titmouse had been more than ten minutes beyond his

time.

"Yours ve-ry respectfully, Mr. Titmouse--Thomas Tag-rag!" exclaimed that

personage, with mock solemnity, bowing formally to his astounded and

breathless shopman.

"I--I--beg your pardon, sir; but I wasn't very well, and overslept

myself," stammered Titmouse.

"Ne-ver mind, Mr. Titmouse! ne-ver mind!--it don't much signify, as it

happens," interrupted Mr. Tag-rag, bitterly; "you've just got an hour

and a half to take this piece of silk, with my compliments, to Messrs.

Shuttle and Weaver, in Dirt Street, Spitalfields, and ask them if they

aren't ashamed to send it to a West-end house like mine; and bring back

a better piece instead of it! D' ye _hear_, sir?"

"Yes, sir--but--am I to go before my breakfast, sir?"

"Did I say a word about breakfast, sir? You heard my orders, sir; you

can attend to them or not, Mr. Titmouse, as you please!"

Off trotted Titmouse _instanter_, without his breakfast; and so Tag-rag

gained one object he had had in view. Titmouse found this rather trying:

a four-mile walk before him, with no inconsiderable load under his arm;

having, moreover, had nothing to eat since the preceding evening, when

he had partaken of a delicate repast of thick slices of bread, smeared

slightly over with somewhat high-flavored salt butter, and moistened

with a most astringent decoction of _quasi_ tea-leaves sweetened with

brown sugar, and discolored with sky-blue milk. He had not even a

farthing about him wherewith to buy a penny roll! As he went

disconsolately along, so many doubts and fears buzzed impetuously about

him, that they completely darkened his little soul, and bewildered his

petty understanding. _Ten Thousand a-Year!_--it could never be meant for

the like of _him_! He soon worked himself into a conviction that the

whole thing was infinitely too good to be true; the affair was

desperate; it had been all moonshine; for some cunning purpose or

another, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, had been--ah, here he was

within a few yards of their residence, the scene of last night's tragic

transactions! As he passed Saffron Hill, he paused, looked up towards

the blessed abode,

"Where centred all his hopes and fears,"--

uttered a profound sigh, and passed slowly on towards Smithfield. The

words "_Quirk, Gammon, and Snap_," seemed to be written over every

shop-window which he passed--their images filled his mind's eye. What

could they be at? They had been all very polite and friendly at

first--and of their own seeking: but he had affronted them. How coldly

and proudly they had parted with him over-night, although they had

professed themselves reconciled to him! It was evident that they would

stand no nonsense--they were great lawyers; so he must (if they really

would allow him to see them again) eat humble pie cheerfully till he had

got all that they had to give him. How he dreaded the coming night!

Perhaps they intended civilly to tell him that, since seeing him, they

would have nothing more to do with him; they would get the estate for

themselves, or some one else who would be more manageable! They had

taken care to tell him nothing at all about the nature of his

pretensions to this grand fortune. Oh, how crafty they were--they had

it all their own way!--But what, after all, had he really done? The

estates were his, if they were really in earnest--his and no one's else;

and why should he be kept out of them at their will and pleasure?

Suppose he were to say he would give them all he was entitled to for

£20,000 down, in cash? Oh no; on second thoughts, that would be only two

years' income! But on the other hand--he dared hardly even propose it to

his thoughts--still, suppose it _should_ really all turn out true!

Goodness gracious!--that day two months he might be riding about in his

carriage in the Parks, and poor devils looking on at _him_, as he now

looked on all those who now rode there. There he would be, holding up

his head with the best of them, instead of slaving as he was that

moment, carrying about that cursed bundle--ough! how he shrunk with

disgust as he changed its position, to relieve his aching right arm! Why

was his mouth to be stopped--why might he not tell his shopmates? What

would he not give for the luxury of telling it to the odious Tag-rag? If

he _were_ to do so, Mr. Tag-rag, he was sure, would ask him to dinner

the very next Sunday, at his country house at Clapham!--Ah,

ha!--Thoughts such as these so occupied his mind, that he did not for a

long while observe that he was walking at a rapid rate towards the

Mile-end road, having left Whitechapel church nearly half a mile behind

him! The possible master of £10,000 a-year was nearly dropping with

fatigue, and sudden apprehension of the storm he should have to

encounter when he first saw Mr. Tag-rag after so unduly prolonged an

absence on his errand. He was detained for a cruel length of time at

Messrs. Shuttle and Weaver's; who, not having the exact kind of silk

required by their imperious customer at that moment on their premises,

had some difficulty in obtaining it, after having sent for it to one or

two neighboring manufactories; by which means it came to pass that it

was two o'clock before Titmouse, completely exhausted, had returned to

Tag-rag and Company's. The gentlemen of the shop had finished their

dinners.

"Go up-stairs and get your dinner, sir!" exclaimed Tag-rag, sternly,

after having received Messrs. Shuttle and Weaver's obsequious message of

apologies and hopes.

Titmouse having laid down his heavy bundle on the counter, went

up-stairs hungry enough, and found himself the sole occupant of the long

close-smelling room in which his companions had been recently dining.

His dinner was presently brought to him by a slatternly slipshod

servant-girl. It was in an uncovered basin, which appeared to contain

nothing but the leavings of his companions--a savory intermixture of

cold potatoes, broken meat, (chiefly bits of fat and gristle,) a little

hot water having been thrown over it to make it appear warm and

fresh--(faugh!) His plate (with a small pinch of salt upon it) had not

been cleaned after its recent use, but evidently only hastily smeared

over with a greasy towel, as also seemed his knife and fork, which, in

their disgusting state, he was fain to put up with--the table-cloth on

which he might have wiped them, having been removed. A hunch of bread

that seemed to have been tossing about in the pan for days, and half a

pint of turbid table-beer, completed the fare set before him; opposite

which he sat for some minutes, too much occupied with his reflections to

commence his repast. He was in the act of scooping out of the basin some

of its inviting contents, when--"Titmouse!" exclaimed the voice of one

of his shopmates, peering in at him through the half-opened door, "Mr.

Tag-rag wants you! He says you've had plenty of time to finish your

dinner!"

"Oh, tell him, then, I'm only just beginning my dinner--eugh! such as it

is," replied Titmouse, sulkily.

In a few minutes' time Mr. Tag-rag himself entered the room, stuttering

with fury--"How much longer, sir, may it be your pleasure to spend over

your dinner, eh?"

"Not another moment, sir," answered Titmouse, looking with unaffected

loathing and disgust at the savory victuals before him; "if you'll only

allow me a few minutes to go home and buy a penny roll instead of all

this"----

"Ve--ry good, sir! Ve--ry parti--cu--larly good, Mr. Titmouse," replied

Tag-rag, with ill-subdued rage; "anything else that I can make a

_leetle_ memorandum of--against the day of--your leaving us?"

This hint of twofold terror, _i. e._ of withholding on the ground of

misconduct the wretched balance of salary which might be then due to

him, and of also giving him a damning character--dispelled the small

remains of Titmouse's appetite, and he rose to return to the shop,

involuntarily clutching his fist as he brushed close past the tyrant

Tag-rag on the stairs, whom he would have been delighted to pitch down

head-foremost. If he _had_ done so, none of his fellow-slaves below, in

spite of their present sycophancy towards Tag-rag, would have shown any

particular alacrity in picking up their common oppressor. Poor Tittlebat

resumed his old situation behind the counter; but how different his

present, from his former air and manner! With his pen occasionally

peeping pertly out of his bushy hair over his right ear, and his

yard-measure in his hand, no one, till the previous Monday morning, had

been more cheerful, smirking, and nimble than Tittlebat Titmouse: alas,

how chopfallen now! None of his companions could make him out, or guess

what was in the wind; so they very justly concluded that he had been

doing something dreadfully disgraceful, the extent of which was known to

Tag-rag and himself alone. Their jeers and banter were giving place to

cold distrustful looks, which were far more trying to bear. How he

longed to be able to burst upon their astounded minds with the pent-up

intelligence that was silently racking and splitting his little bosom!

But if he did--the terrible firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap--Oh! the

very thought of them glued his lips together. There was _one_, however,

of whom he might surely make a confidant--the excellent Huckaback, with

whom he had had no opportunity of communicating since Sunday night. That

gentleman was as close a prisoner at the establishment of DIAPER and

SARSENET, in Tottenham-court Road, as Titmouse at Messrs. Tag-rag's, of

which said establishment he was, by the way, quite as great an ornament

as Titmouse of Messrs. Tag-rag's. They were of about the same height,

and equals in vulgar puppyism of manners, dress, and appearance; but

Titmouse was certainly the better-looking. With equal conceit apparent

in their faces, that of Huckaback, square, flat, and sallow, had an

expression of ineffable impudence, made a lady shudder, and a gentleman

feel a tingling sensation in his right toe. About his small black eyes

there was a glimmer of low cunning;--but he is not of sufficient

importance to be painted any further. When Titmouse left the shop that

night, a little after nine, he hurried to his lodgings, to make himself

as imposing in his appearance before Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, as

his time and means would admit of. Behold, on a table lay a letter from

Huckaback. It was written in a flourishing mercantile hand; and here is

a _verbatim_ copy of it:

"DEAR TIT,

"Hope you are well, which is what I can only middling say in

respect of me. Such a row with my governors as I have had to-day! I

thought that as I had been in the House near upon Eighteen Months

at £25 per annum, I might nat'rally ask for £30 a-year (which is

what my Predecessor had) when, would you believe it, Mr. Sharpeye

(who is going to be taken in as a Partner,) to whom I named the

thing, ris up in rage against me, and I were had up into the

counting-house, where both the governors was, and they gave it me

in such a way that you never saw nor heard of; but it wasn't all on

their own side, as you know me too well to think of. You would have

thought I had been a-going to rob the house. They said I was most

oudacious, and all that, and ungrateful, and what would I have

next? Mr. Diaper said times was come to such a pitch!! since when

he was first in the business, for salaries, says he, is ris to

double, and not half the work done that was, and no

gratitude--(cursed old curmudgeon!) He said if I left them just

now, I might whistle for a character, except one that I should not

like; but if he don't mind I'll give him a touch of law about

that--which brings me to what happened to-day with _our_ lawyers,

Titty, the people at Saffron Hill, whom I thought I would call in

on to-day, being near the neighborhood with some light goods, to

see how affairs was getting on, and stir them up a bit"--

This almost took Titmouse's breath away----

--"feeling most _interested_ on your account, as you know, dear

Tit, I do. I said I wanted to speak to one of the gentlemen on

business of wital importance; whereat I was quickly shown into a

room where two gents was sitting. Having put down my parcel for a

minute on the table, I said I was a very partic'lar friend of

yours, and had called in to see how things went on about the

advertisement; whereat you never saw in your life how struck they

looked, and stared at one another in speechless silence, till they

said to me, what concerned me about the business? or something of

that nature, but in such a way that _ris_ a _rage_ in me directly,

all for your sake, (for I did not like the looks of things;) and

says I, I said, we would let them know we were not to be

_gammoned_; whereat up rose the youngest of the two, and ringing

the bell, he says to a tight-laced young gentleman with a pen

behind his ear, 'Show this fellow to the door,' which I was at

once; but, in doing so, let out a little of my mind to them.

They're no better than they should be, you see if they are; but

when we touch the property, we'll show them who is their masters,

which consoles me. Good-by, keep your sperrits up, and I will call

and tell you more about it on Sunday. So farewell (I write this at

Mr. Sharpeye's desk, who is coming down from dinner directly, the

beast!)--Your true friend,

"R. HUCKABACK.

"P. S.--Met a young Jew last night with a lot of prime cigars, and

(knowing he _must_ have stole them--betwixt you, and I, and the

Post--they looked so good at the price,) I bought one shilling's

worth for me, and two shillings' worth for you, your salary being

higher, and to say nothing of your chances."

All that part of the foregoing letter which related to its gifted

writer's interview with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, Titmouse read

in a kind of spasm--he could not draw a breath, and felt a choking

sensation coming over him. After a while, "I may spare myself," thought

he, "the trouble of rigging out--Huckaback has done my business for me

with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap!--Mine will only be a walk in

vain!" And this cursed call of Huckaback's, too, to have happened after

what had occurred last night between Titmouse and them!! and so urgently

as he had been enjoined to keep the matter to himself! Of course,

Huckaback would seem to have been sent by him; seeing he appeared to

have assumed the hectoring tone which Titmouse had tried so vainly

over-night, and now so bitterly repented of; and he had no doubt grossly

insulted the arbiters of Titmouse's destiny, (for he knew Huckaback's

impudence)--he had even said that he (Titmouse) would not be GAMMONED by

them! But time was pressing--the experiment must be made; and with a

beating heart he scrambled into a change of clothes--bottling up his

wrath against the unconscious Huckaback till he should see that worthy.

In a miserable state of mind he set off soon after for Saffron Hill at a

quick pace, which soon became a trot, and often sharpened into a

downright run. He saw, heard, and thought of nothing, as he hurried

along Oxford Street and Holborn, but Quirk, Gammon, Snap, and Huckaback,

and the reception which the last-mentioned gentleman might have secured

for him--if, indeed, he was to be received at all. The magical words,

_Ten Thousand a-year_, had not disappeared from the field of his

troubled vision; but how faintly and dimly they shone!--like the

Pleiades coldly glistening through intervening mists far off--oh! at

what a stupendous, immeasurable, and hopeless distance! Imagine those

stars gazed at by the anguished and despairing eyes of the bereaved

lover, madly believing one of them to contain HER who has just departed

from his arms, and from this world, and you may form a notion of the

agonizing feelings--the absorbed contemplation of one dear, dazzling,

but distant object, experienced on this occasion by Mr. Titmouse. No,

no; I don't mean seriously to pretend that so grand a thought as this

_could_ be entertained by his little optics intellectual; you might as

well suppose the tiny eye of a black beetle to be scanning the vague,

fanciful, and mysterious figure and proportions of Orion, or a kangaroo

to be perusing and pondering over the immortal _Principia_. I repeat,

that I have no desire of the sort, and am determined not again foolishly

to attempt fine writing, which I now perceive to be entirely out of my

line. In language more befitting me and my subject, I may be allowed to

say that there is no getting the contents of a quart into a pint pot;

that Titmouse's mind was a half-pint--and it was brim-full. All the

while that I have been going on thus, however, Titmouse was hurrying

down Holborn at a rattling rate. When at length he had reached Saffron

Hill, he was in a bath of perspiration. His face was quite red; he

breathed hard; his heart beat violently; he had got a stitch in his

side; and he could not get his gloves on his hot and swollen hands. He

stood for a moment with his hat off, wiping his reeking forehead, and

endeavoring to recover himself a little, before entering the dreaded

presence to which he had been hastening. He even fancied for a moment

that his eyes gave out sparks of light. While thus pausing, St. Andrew's

Church struck ten, half electrifying Titmouse, who bolted up Saffron

Hill, and was soon standing opposite the door. How the sight of it smote

him, as it reminded him of the way in which, on the preceding night, he

had bounced out of it! But that could not now be helped; so _ring_ went

the bell; as softly, however, as he could; for he recollected that it

was a very loud bell, and he did not wish to offend. He stood for some

time, and nobody answered. He waited for nearly two minutes, and

trembled, assailed by a thousand vague fears. He might not, however,

have rung loudly enough--so--again, a little louder, did he venture to

ring. Again he waited. There seemed something threatening in the great

brass plate on the door, out of which "QUIRK, GAMMON, AND SNAP" appeared

to look at him ominously. While he thought of it, by the way, there was

something very serious and stern in all their faces--he wondered that he

had not noticed it before. What a drunken beast he had been to go on in

their presence as he had! thought he; then Huckaback's image flitted

across his disturbed fancy. "Ah!" thought he, "that's the thing!--that's

it, depend upon it: this door will never be opened to _me_ again--he's

done for me!" He breathed faster, clinched his fist, and involuntarily

raised it in a menacing way, when he heard himself addressed--"Oh! dear

me, sir, I _hope_ I haven't kept you waiting," said the old woman whom

he had before seen, fumbling in her pocket for the door-key. She had

been evidently out shopping, having a plate in her left hand, over which

her apron was partially thrown. "Hope you've not been ringing long,

sir!"

"Oh dear! no ma'am," replied Titmouse, with anxious civility, and a

truly miserable smile--"Afraid I may have kept _them_ waiting," he

added, almost dreading to hear the answer.

"Oh no, sir, not at all--they've all been gone since a little after

nine; but there's a letter I was to give you!" She opened the door;

Titmouse nearly dropping with fright. "I'll get it for you, sir--let me

see, where did I put it?--Oh, in the clerk's room, I think." Titmouse

followed her in. "Dear me--where can it be?" she continued, peering

about, and then snuffing the long wick of the candle, which she had left

burning for the last quarter of an hour, during her absence. "I _hope_

none of the clerks has put it away in mistake! Well, it isn't _here_,

anyhow."

"Perhaps, ma'am, it's in their _own_ room," suggested Titmouse, in a

faint tone.

"Oh, p'r'aps it is!" she replied. "We'll go and see"--and she led the

way, followed closely by Titmouse, who caught his breath spasmodically

as he passed the green-baize door. Yes, there was the room--the scene of

last night was transacted there, and came crowding over his

recollection--there was the green-shaded candlestick--the table covered

with papers--an arm-chair near it, in which, probably, Mr. Quirk had

been sitting only an hour before to write the letter they were now in

quest of, and which might be to forbid him their presence forever! How

dreary and deserted the room looked, thought he as he peered about it in

search of the dreaded letter!

"Oh, here it is!--well, I never!--who could have put it here, now? I'm

sure I didn't. Let me see--it was, no doubt"--said the old woman,

holding the letter in one hand and putting the other to her head.

"Never mind, ma'am," said Titmouse, stretching his hand towards

her--"now we've got it, it don't much signify." She gave it to him.

"Seem _particularly_ anxious for me to get it--did they, ma'am?" he

inquired, with a strong effort to appear unconcerned--the dreaded letter

quite quivering, the while, in his fingers.

"No, sir--Mr. Quirk only said I was to give it you when you called.

B'lieve they sent it to you, but the clerk said he couldn't find your

place out; by the way, (excuse me, sir,) but yours _is_ a funny name!

How I heard 'em laughing at it, to be sure! What makes people give such

queer names? Would you like to read it here, sir?--you're welcome."

"No, thank you, ma'am--it's of not the _least_ consequence," he replied,

with a desperate air; and tossing it with attempted carelessness into

his hat, which he put on his head, he very civilly wished her

good-night, and departed--very nearly inclined to sickness, or

faintness, or something of the sort, which the fresh air might perhaps

dispel. He quickly espied a lamp at a corner, which promised to afford

him an uninterrupted opportunity of inspecting his letter. He took it

out of his hat. It was addressed--simply, "Mr. Titmouse, _Cocking_

Court, Oxford Street," (which accounted, perhaps, for the clerk's having

been unable to find it;) and having been opened with trembling

eagerness, thus it read:--

"Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, present their compliments to Mr.

Titmouse, and are anxious to save him the trouble of his intended

visit this evening.

"They exceedingly regret that obstacles (which it is to be hoped,

however, may not prove _ultimately_ insurmountable) exist in the

way of their prosecuting their intended inquiries on behalf of Mr.

Titmouse.

"Since their last night's interview with him, circumstances, which

they could not have foreseen, and over which they have no control,

have occurred, which render it unnecessary for Mr. T. to give

himself any more anxiety in the affair--at least, not until he

shall have heard from Messrs. Q. G. and S.

"If anything of importance _should_ hereafter transpire, it is not

improbable that Mr. T. may hear from them.

"They were favored, this afternoon, with a visit from Mr. T.'s

friend--a Mr. Hucklebottom."

"_Saffron Hill, Wednesday Evening, 12th July 18--._"

When poor Titmouse had finished reading over this vague, frigid, and

disheartening note a second time, a convulsive sob or two pierced his

bosom, indicative of its being indeed swollen with sorrow; and at

length, overcome by his feelings, he cried bitterly--not checked even by

the occasional exclamations of one or two passers-by. He could not at

all control himself. He felt as if he could have almost relieved

himself, by banging his head against the wall! A tumultuous feeling of

mingled grief and despair prevented his thoughts, for a long while, from

settling on any one idea or object. At length, when the violence of the

storm had somewhat abated, on concluding a third perusal of the

death-warrant to all his hopes, which he held in his hand, his eye lit

upon the strange word which was intended to designate his friend

Huckaback; and it instantly changed both the kind of his feelings, and

the current in which they had been rushing. Grief became rage; and the

stream foamed in quite a new direction--namely, towards Huckaback. That

accursed fellow he considered to be 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--viz. his own offensive and insolent

behavior over-night to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. Yet so it

was:--yes, upon the devoted (but 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 crammed the letter into his pocket, and started off at once in the

direction of Leicester Square, breathing rage at every step--_viresque

acquirens eundo_. His hands kept convulsively clinching 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 _quondam_ friend's door; and on the instant of its

being--doubtless somewhat surprisedly--opened by Huckaback, who was

undressing, Titmouse sprang towards him, let fly 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 of his fury.

"Do it again! You will, won't you? _You'll_ go--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 down 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 inquire 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 discovered symptoms of restoration to

consciousness, which he anxiously endeavored to accelerate, by putting

to the lips of the slowly-reviving victim of his violence some cold

water, in a tea-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 inquired.

"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--anything

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 _is_ the matter?" repeated that gentleman, with a wondering

air, raising his hand to his nose, from which the blood was still

trickling. The fact is, that he had lost his senses, probably from the

suddenness, rather than the violence of the injuries which he had

received.

"I did it all--yes, I did!" continued Titmouse, gazing on him with a

look of agony and remorse.

"Why, I can't be awake--I can't!" said Huckaback, rubbing his eyes, and

then staring at his wet and blood-stained shirt-front and hands.

"Oh yes, you are--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 me to jail! Say I came to rob you--anything--blow me if

I care what becomes of me!"

"Why, what _does_ all this jabber mean, Titmouse?" inquired Huckaback,

sternly, and apparently meditating reprisals.

"Oh, yes, I see! Now you _are_ going to give it me! but I won't stir. So

hit away, Hucky."

"Why--are you mad?" inquired 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 vehemence. "What

have I done to offend you? How _dare_ you come _here_? And at this time

of night, too? Eh?"

"What, indeed! Oh lud, oh lud, oh lud! Kick me, I say--strike me! You'll

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'm 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 incident 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.

Astonishment--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 supposed, a madman.

"Why, curse me, Titmouse, if I can make up my mind what to do to you!"

he exclaimed, "I--I suppose you are going mad, or gone mad, and I must

forgive you. But get away with you--out with you, or--or--I'll call

in"----

"Forgive me--forgive me, dear Hucky! Don't send me away--I shall go and

drown myself if you do."

"What the d--l do I care if you do? You'd much better have gone and done

it before you came here. Nay, be off and do it _now_, instead of

blubbering here in 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 you!--But it quite put the devil 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, _you've_ been the _ruin_ of me, clean! I'm clean done

for, Huck. Cleaned out! You've done my business 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 called to-day"----

Huckaback now began to have a glimmering notion of his having been, in

some considerable degree, connected with the mischief of the day--an

unconscious agent in it. He audibly drew in his breath, as it were, as

he more and more distinctly recollected his visit to Messrs. Quirk,

Gammon, and Snap; and adverted more particularly to his _threats_,

uttered, too, in Titmouse's name, and as if by his authority. Whew! here

was a kettle of fish.

Now, strange and unaccountable as, at first thought, it may appear, the

very circumstance which one should have thought calculated to assuage

his resentment against Titmouse--namely, that he had really _injured_

Titmouse most seriously, (if not indeed irreparably,) and so _provoked_

the drubbing which had just been administered to him--had quite the

contrary effect. Paradoxical as it may seem, matter of clear mitigation

was at once converted into matter of aggravation. Were the feelings

which Huckaback then experienced, akin to that which often produces

hatred of a person whom one has injured? May it be thus accounted for?

That there is a secret satisfaction in the mere consciousness of being a

sufferer--a martyr--and that, too, in the presence of a person whom one

perceives to be aware that he has wantonly injured one; that one's

bruised spirit is soothed by the sight of his remorse--by the

consciousness that he is punishing himself infinitely more severely than

_we_ could punish him; and of the claim one has obtained to the

_sympathy_ of everybody who sees, or may hear of one's sufferings, (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 _deserved_ his sufferings; when the martyr

felt himself quickly sinking into the culprit and offender; when, I say,

Huckaback felt an involuntary consciousness that the gross indignities

which Titmouse had just inflicted on him, had been justified by the

provocation--nay, had been far less than his mischievous and impudent

interference had deserved;--and when feelings of this sort, moreover,

were sharpened by a certain tingling sense of physical pain from the

blows which he had received--the result was, that the sleeping lion of

Huckaback's courage was very nearly awakening.

"_I've half a mind, Titmouse_"--said Huckaback, knitting his brows,

fixing 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 allusion 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 _may_ look

fierce! 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

_have_ ruined me! you have, Huckaback!" he continued with increasing

vehemence; "and I shall be cutting my 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 if it don't!"

"Oh, no, it's all done for--it's all up with me!"

"But _what's_ 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 time given out only a few faint

fitful flashes or flickerings 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 _partic'lar_ vulgar!" exclaimed Huckaback, with a contemptuous 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 _this_ is all

they say of _me_," 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 Huckaback.

"Why, perhaps you'll 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 forgotten having sent,

and on being reminded of it, he certainly seemed rather nonplussed.

"Oh--ay, if you mean _that_--hem!"--he stammered.

"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!--but let's

spell over this letter; we haven't studied it yet; I'm a hand, rather,

at getting at what's said in a letter!--Come"--and they drew their

chairs together, Huckaback reading over the letter slowly, alone;

Titmouse's eyes travelling incessantly from his friend's countenance to

the letter, and so back again, to gather what might be the effect of its

perusal.

"There's a glimpse of daylight yet, Titty!" said Huckaback, as he

concluded reading it.

"No! But is there really? Do tell me, Hucky"----

"Why, first and foremost, how uncommon polite they are, (except that

they haven't manners enough to spell my name right)"----

"Really--and so they are!" exclaimed Titmouse, rather elatedly.

"And then, you see, there's another thing--if they'd meant to give the

thing the go-by altogether, what could have been easier than to say

so?--but they haven't said anything of the sort, so they don't _mean_ to

give it all up!"

"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't anything better than nothing? But then,

again, here's a stone in the other pocket--they say there's a

_circumstance_!--don't you hate circumstances, Titty?--I do."

"So do I!--What does it mean? I've often heard--isn't it a _thing_? And

that may be--anything."

"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 _you_, 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 the door,

and I went; a'n't that so, Titty?--Lord, how my eye _does_ smart, to be

sure!"

"And don't I smart all over, inside and out, if it comes to that?"

inquired Titmouse, dolefully.

"There's nothing particular in the rest of the letter--only uncommon

civil, and saying if anything turns up you shall hear."

"_I_ 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

forever.

"Can't you find anything--nothing at all comfortable-like, in the

letter?" he inquired 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, I 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 _they_ ever write

anything that hasn't got more in it than anybody can find 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, sighing, "such an

_uncommon_ gentlemanlike gent--he's quite taken to me"----

"Ah, that, I suppose, was him with the black velvet waistcoat, and

pretty white hands! But _he_ can look stern, too, Tit! You should have

seen him ring, when--hem!--But what was I saying about the letter? Don't

you see they say they'll be sure to write if anything turns up?"

"So they do, to be sure! Well--I'd forgot that!" interrupted Titmouse,

brightening up.

"Then, isn't there their advertisement in the _Flash_? They hadn't their

eye on anything when they put it there, I dare say!--They can't get out

of _that_, anyhow!"

"I begin to feel all of a sweat, Hucky; I'm sure there's something 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! hollo, 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 zigzag 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 me----! and 'pon my soul, 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 £10,000 a-year saving up for you

ever since you was born--and heaps of interest besides!'--'pon my soul

he did!"

"Lord, Tit! you take my breath away," gasped Huckaback, his eyes fixed

intently on his friend's face.

"Yes; and they said I might marry the most beautifulest woman that ever

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! 'Tis 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?" inquired

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 better go back!! So I said, 'Gents,' said I, 'I'll be---- if

I'll 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 anything

like it! And one of them said then, in a humble way, 'Wouldn't I please

to go back 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'll employ some one

else!' and--would you believe me?--out I went, bang! into the street!!"

"You _did_, Tit!!" echoed Huckaback, aghast.

"They shouldn't have given me so much brandy and water as they did; I

didn't well know what I was about, what with the news and the spirits!"

"And you went into the street?" inquired Huckaback, with a kind of

horror.

"I did, by Jove, Hucky!"

"They'd given you the sperrits to see what kind of chap you'd be if you

got the property--only to try you, depend on it!"

"Lord! I--I dare say they did!" exclaimed Titmouse, elevating his head

with sudden amazement, totally forgetting that same brandy and water he

had asked for--"and me never to think of it at 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?" inquired Huckaback, with a

sigh of exhausted attention.

"Why, when I'd got there, I could have bitten my tongue off, as one may

suppose; but, just as I was a-turning to go in again, who should come up

to me but Mr. Gammon, saying, he humbly hoped there was no offence."

"Oh, glorious! So it was all set right again, then--eh?"

"Why--I--I 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 anything about the fortune)--and then--you went,

Huckaback, and you did the business; they of course concluding I'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,

Tit, how much did you promise to come down, if you got the thing?"

"_Come down!_--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 had burst in

upon him.

"Why, Tit, I never see'd such a goose! That's it, depend upon it--it's

the whole thing! That's what they're driving at, in the note!--Why, Tit,

where _was_ your wits? D' ye think such gents as them--great lawyers,

too--will work for nothing?--You must write at once and tell them you

will come down handsome--say a couple of hundreds, besides

expenses--Gad! 'twill set you on your pins again, Titty!--Rot me! now I

think of it, if I didn't dream last night that you was a Member of

Parliament 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, exultingly.

"You see if my dream don't come true! You see, Titty, I'm _always_

a-thinking 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!"

"Give us your hand, Hucky! Let's forgive one another!" cried Titmouse,

excitedly; and their hands were quickly locked together.

"If we don't mismanage the thing, we shall be all right yet, Titty; but

you won't do anything without speaking to _me_ first--will you, Titty?"

"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 watchman

beneath, startling the friends out of their exciting colloquy; his

warning being at the same time silently seconded by the long-wicked

candle, burning within half an inch of its socket. They hastily agreed

that Titmouse should immediately write to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and

Snap, a proper [_i. e._ a most abject] letter, solemnly pledging himself

to obey their injunctions in everything for the future, and offering

them a handsome reward for their exertions, if successful.

"Well--good-night, Huck! good-night," said Titmouse, rising. "I'm not

the least sleepy--I sha'n't sleep a wink all night long! I shall sit up

to write my letter--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 letter, and had so used it.]

Huckaback produced a sheet, somewhat crumpled, from a drawer. "I'd give

a hundred if I had them!" said he; "I sha'n't care a straw for the

hiding I've got to-night--though I'm a _leetle_ 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'll suit _them_,

surely!--So good-night, Hucky--good-night!"

Huckaback wrung his friend's hand, and was in a moment or two alone.

"Haven't my fingers 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

sperrit, and can't bear to hurt any one;--and then--if the chap gets his

£10,000 a-year--why--hem! Titty a'n't such a bad fellow, in the main,

after all."

If Titmouse had been many degrees higher in the grade of society, _he

would still have met with his Huckaback_;--a trifle more polished,

perhaps, but hardly more quick-sighted or effective than, in his way, had

been the vulgar being he had just quitted.

Titmouse hastened homeward. How it was he knew not; but the feelings of

elation with which he had quitted Huckaback did not last long; they

rapidly sank, in the cold night-air, lower and lower, the farther he got

from Leicester Square. He tried to recollect _what it was_ that had made

him take so very different a view of his 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 somehow proved

it_; but how he now knew not--he could not recollect. As Huckaback had

gone on from time to time, Titmouse's little mind seemed to himself to

comprehend and appreciate what was being said, and to gather

encouragement from it; but _now_--consume it!--he stopped--rubbed his

forehead--what the deuce WAS it? By the time that he had reached his own

door, he felt in as deplorable and despairing a humor 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 off, his

clothes; blew out his candle with a furious _puff_; 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 suffered more, for some time 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 millions of admiring fools, by

reason of the pranks she will presently make thee exhibit for her

amusement? If this be indeed, as at present it promises, her intent, she

truly, to me calmly watching her movements, appears resolved first to

wreak her spite upon thee to the uttermost, and make thee pass through

intense sufferings! Oh me! Oh me! Alas!