The means by which Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, became possessed of
the important information which had 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, namely, in inserting such an advertisement in the newspapers,
and, above all, going so far in their disclosures to Titmouse. Their
prudence in the latter step, however, was very questionable to
themselves even; and 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 _lightly_ taken up the
affair; they had not "acted unadvisedly." They were fortified, first, by
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 Dreddlington family,) but in the descendants
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 pecuniary arrangements mentioned
at fol. 33 of the case. Probably something may be heard of his heir
by making careful inquiry in the neighborhood where he was last
heard of, and issuing advertisements for his heir-at-law; care, of
course, being taken not to be so specific in the terms of such
advertisements as to attract the notice of A. B., (the party now in
possession.) If such 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.
"MOULDY MORTMAIN.
"_Lincoln's Inn, January_ 19, 18--."
This was sufficiently gratifying to the "house;" but, to make assurance
doubly sure, before embarking in so harassing and expensive an
enterprise--one which lay a good deal, too, without the sphere of their
practice, which as already mentioned, was chiefly in criminal law--the
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 which had been paid to Mr. Mortmain. And Mr. FUSSY
FRANKPLEDGE--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 nothing of the magnificent
air with which he indoctrinated his eager and confiding pupils upon the
subject. At length his imp of a clerk bore the precious result of his
master's labors to Saffron Hill, in the shape of an "opinion," three
times as long as, and indescribably more difficult to understand than,
the opinion of Mr. Mortmain; and which if it demonstrated anything
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, had any more right to the estate than the aforesaid Mr.
Frankpledge; but that the happy individual so entitled 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 (whenever 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.
Mortmain. Mr. Gammon swore by Frankpledge, who had been at school with
him, and was a "rising man." Mortmain 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 been
overruled thereby; the latter gentleman, although he had been only five
years in practice, had written an _opinion_ which had led to a
suit--which had ended in a difference of opinion between the Court of
King's Bench and the Common Pleas; the credit of having done which was,
however, some time afterward, a little bit tarnished by the decision of
a Court of Error, without hearing the other side, _against_ the opinion
of Mr. Frankpledge. But----
Mr. Frankpledge quoted _so_ many cases, and went to the bottom of
everything, 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 much 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 little time; and that the other day the Vice-Chancellor
called on Mr. Mortmain--with several other matters of that sort,
calculated to enhance the importance of Mr. Mortmain; who, as the clerk
was asking Mr. Gammon, in a good-natured way, how long Mr. Frankpledge
had been in practice, and where his chambers were--made his appearance,
with a cheerful look and a bustling gait, having just walked down from
his house 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 well-nigh split thousands of learned heads, and
broken tens of thousands of hearts, in the making of, being destined to
have a similar but far greater effect in the applying of,) and the
consultation 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 before every consultation;) and down
sat the two conveyancers and the two attorneys. I devoutly wish I had
time to describe the scene at length; but greater events are pressing
upon me. The two conveyancers fenced with one another for some time very
guardedly and good-humoredly: pleasant was it to observe the conscious
condescension of Mortmain, the anxious energy and volubility of
Frankpledge. When Mr. Mortmain said anything that seemed weighty 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 Bendloe, 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 time; 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, (the first of
the bin which he had tasted,) and upon the decision which the Chancellor
might come to on a case brought into court on his advice, and which had
been argued that afternoon. At last Frankpledge unwittingly fell foul of
a favorite 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 his points, and Frankpledge intrenched himself in his books;
each slightly yielded to the views of the other on immaterial points,
(or what would have appeared the use of the consultation?) but did that
which both had resolved upon doing from the first, _i. 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 the
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 _his_ man more of the
conveyancing business of the house than he had before. I grieve to add,
that they parted that night with a trifle less of cordiality than had
been their wont. In the morning, however, this little irritation had
passed away; and they agreed, before giving up the case, to take the
final opinion of Mr. TRESAYLE--the great Mr. Tresayle. He was, indeed, a
wonderful conveyancer--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 pure 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 difficult, it, of course, went into No. II.; and
if exceedingly difficult, (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, however, was precious. Mr. Tresayle's law was supreme
over everybody'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. Tresayle; and would lie winking and
knitting his shaggy eyebrows half the night, if he thought that Mr.
Tresayle's opinion on a case, and his own, differed. 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. Mortmain's, despatched their case, (making no
mention of the opinion which had been previously taken,) with a highly
respectable fee, and a special compliment to his clerk, hoping to hear
from that awful quarter within 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 Mr.
Prim, his clerk, intimating that they would find him, _i. e._ the
aforesaid Mr. Prim, at his chambers the next morning, prepared to
explain the opinion to them; having just had it read over to him by Mr.
Tresayle, for it proved to be in No. II. The opinion occupied about 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 anything 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 Clerkenwell Sessions, the
Police Offices, the inferior business of the Common Law Courts, and the
worrying of the clerks of the office--a department in which he was
perfection itself.)
To their great delight, Mr. Tresayle took Mr. Mortmain's view of the
case. Nothing could be more terse, perspicuous, and conclusive than the
great man's opinion. Mr. Quirk was in raptures, and that very day sent
to procure an engraving of Mr. Tresayle, which had lately come out, for
which he paid 5s., and ordered it to be framed and hung up in his own
room, where already grinned a quaint resemblance, in black profile, of
Mr. Mortmain, cheek by jowl with that of a notorious traitor who had
been hanged in spite of Mr. Quirk's best exertions. In special
good-humor, he assured Mr. Gammon, (who was plainly somewhat crestfallen
about Mr. Frankpledge,) that everybody 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 inquiries in all directions. They
discovered that Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse, having spent the chief
portion of his blissful days as a cobbler at Whitehaven, had died in
London, somewhere about the year 1793. At this point they stood for a
long while, in spite of two advertisements, to which they had been
driven with the greatest reluctance, for fear of attracting the
attention of those most interested in thwarting their efforts. Even that
part of the affair had been managed somewhat skilfully. It was a stroke
of Mr. Gammon's to advertise not for "Heir-at-Law," but "_Next of Kin_,"
as the reader has seen. The former might have challenged the notice of
unfriendly curiosity, which the latter was hardly calculated to attract.
At length--at the "third time of asking"--up turned Tittlebat Titmouse,
in the way which we have seen. His relationship with Mr. Gabriel
Tittlebat Titmouse was indisputable; in fact, he was (to adopt his own
words) that "deceased person's" son and heir-at-law.
The reader may guess the chagrin and disgust of Mr. Gammon at the
appearance, manners, and character of the person whom he fully believed,
on first seeing him at Messrs. Tag-rag's, to be the rightful owner of
the fine estates held by one who, as against Mr. Titmouse, had no more
real title 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 be requisite to place Mr. Titmouse in the position
which they believed him entitled to occupy--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 calculated upon its proving well worthy their
while, was only reasonable. They were going voluntarily to become the
means of conferring 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 difficulties which collected themselves
into two awkward words, MAINTENANCE and CHAMPERTY, 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 after a ruinous expenditure had been
incurred, that the high authorities which had sanctioned their
proceedings in point of law, had expressed their favorable opinions on a
state of facts, which, however satisfactorily they looked on paper,
could not be substantiated, if keenly sifted, and determinedly resisted.
All this, too--all their time, labor, and money, to go for nothing--on
behalf of a vulgar, selfish, ignorant, presumptuous, ungrateful puppy,
like Titmouse!--Well indeed, therefore, might Mr. Gammon, 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 consideration, truly, but Mr. Quirk had scraped together some
thirty thousand pounds!) what recompense could be too great for such
resplendent services? To say nothing of the _éclat_ 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 intrusted with the general management 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, however, making due allowances for one or two cheering
indications, on Mr. Titmouse's part, of a certain rapacious and
litigious humor, which might hereafter right pleasantly and profitably
occupy their energies! Their professional position, and their interests
had long made them sharp observers; but when did ever before low and
disgusting qualities force themselves into revolting prominence, as
those of 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 threatened 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 contemplation,
truly; but, nevertheless, the partners could not bear the idea of
escaping from them by throwing up the affair altogether. Then came the
question--How were they to manage Mr. Titmouse?--how acquire an early
and firm hold of him, so as to convert him into a _capital client_? 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 expectations.
Gammon 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 persuading him of the prodigious extent of
their exertions and sacrifices on his behalf--they _might_ do something;
mould him into a shape fit for their purposes, 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 Gammon. Mr. Quirk,
however, (with whom, as will be hereafter shown, 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 will, in a manner, stun him into submission,
and make him at once and for all what we want him to be. He will
immediately fall prostrate with reverent gratitude--looking at us,
moreover, as three gods, who, at our will, can shut him out of heaven.
"_That's_ the way to bring down your bird," said Mr. Quirk; and Mr.
Quirk had been forty years in practice--had made the business what it
was--still held half of it in his own hands, (two-thirds of the
remaining half being Gammon's, and the residue Snap's:) and Gammon,
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, after 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 firm 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 ere long 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 extent of his splendid expectations, should
depend upon the discretion of Mr. Quirk. The reader has seen the
unexpected turn which matters took upon that important occasion; and if
it 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 rapid generalship with which Mr. Quirk
had obviated the consequences of his false move--not ill seconded by
Snap. What could have been more judicious than his reception of
Titmouse, on the occasion of his 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 that, if he felt disposed
to resist it, they could compel him to pay the mere amount of their bill
of costs?
Suppose he should turn round upon them, and have their BILL TAXED--Mr.
Quirk grunted with fright at the bare thought. Then there was a slapping
_quiddam honorarium_ extra--undoubtedly for _that_ they must, they
feared, trust to the honor and gratitude of Mr. Titmouse; and a pretty
taste of the 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 _douceur_--nay, and this was not all. Mr. Quirk had, as well as
Mr. Gammon, cast many an anxious eye on the following passages from
_Blackstone's Commentaries_:--
"MAINTENANCE is an officious intermeddling in 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 contention,
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 forfeiture of
£10!
"CHAMPERTY--(_campi partitio_)--is a species of Maintenance, and
punished in the same manner; being a bargain with a plaintiff or
defendant '_campum partiri_,' to divide the land, or other matter
sued for, between them, if they prevail at law; whereupon the
champertor is to carry on the suit at his own expense.... These
pests of civil society, that are perpetually endeavoring to disturb
the repose of their neighbors, and officiously 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."[4]
These were pleasant passages surely!----
Many were the conversations and consultations which the partners had had
with Messrs. Mortmain and Frankpledge respectively, upon the 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 legislature would have
specially stimulated him by a certain _fine_ 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 Mortmain, 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 bygone state of things: _cessante ratione cessat et ipsa lex_, was his
favorite 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 prospect of an ample recompense? It might be said,
perhaps--let the claimant sue _in formâ pauperis_: but then he must
swear that he is not worth five pounds; 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 prospect it was
for such a suitor, (_in formâ pauperis_,) if he should happen to be
nonsuited--to be "put to his election, whether to be whipped or pay the
costs."[5] Thus reasoned within himself that astute person, Mr.
Frankpledge; and at length satisfied 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, within two
months of Titmouse's being put into possession of the rents and profits
of the estate in question. The _condition_ of that bond was, as its
framer believed, drawn in a masterly manner; and his draft was lying
before Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, on the Wednesday morning,
(_i. e._ the day after Titmouse's interview with them,) and had
succeeded at length in exciting the approbation of Mr. Quirk himself;
when--whew!--down came a note from Mr. Frankpledge, to the effect that,
"since preparing the draft bond," he had "had reason _slightly to
modify_ 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. Frankpledge'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 _name_ of 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 believed, at this
new view of the "result of the authorities." "Mortmain is always right!"
said Quirk, looking hard at Gammon; 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 described. Huckaback's commentary
upon the disgusting text of Titmouse over-night, (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 Mr. Gammon had
penned the note to Titmouse, (surely, under the circumstances, one of
extraordinary temper and forbearance,) which 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 Titmouse 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 _Blackstone's Commentaries_, 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 upon 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 kinsman,
servant, or POOR NEIGHBOR, out of _charity and compassion_, with
impunity; _otherwise_, the punishment is," &c. &c.[6]
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 charity and compassion
for poor Tittlebat--kept out of his rights--tyrannized 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 neighbors"--thought Quirk, as he
swallowed glass after glass of the _wine that maketh glad the heart of
man_--and also _softens_ it;--for the more he drank, the more and more
pitiful became his mood--the more sensitive was he to compassionate
suggestions; and by the time that he had finished the decanter, he was
all but in tears! These virtuous feelings brought their own reward,
too--for, from time to time, they conjured up, as it were, the faint
rainbow image of a bond conditioned for the payment of TEN THOUSAND
POUNDS!
To change the metaphor a little--by the time that old Quirk had reached
his office in the morning, the heated iron had cooled. If his heart
_had_ retained any of the maudlin softness of the preceding evening, the
following pathetic letter from Titmouse might have made a very deep
impression upon it, and fixed him, in the benevolent and disinterested
mind of the old lawyer, as indeed his "poor neighbor." The following is
an exact copy of that lucid and eloquent composition. It had been
written by Mr. Titmouse, 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, _and_ SNAPE.
"GENTS,
"Y^r Esteem'd Favor lies now before Me, which _must Say_ have Given
me Much Concern, seeing I Thought it was All Made up betwixt us
That was of Such an _Unpleasant Nature_ on Tuesday night (ultimo)
w^h I most humbly Own (and Acknowledge) was all alone and
_intirely_ of My Own Fault, and Not in the Least Your's which
behaved to me, Must say, In the most Respectful and superior manner
that was possible to think Of, for I truly Say I never was In the
Company of Such Imminent and Superior Gents before In my Life w^h
will take my Oath sincerely Of, Gents. Please to consider the
Brandy (w^h _do_ think _was Uncommon Stiff_) such a flustrum As I
was In before, to, w^h was Evident to All of Us there then
Assemblid and very natral like to be the Case Seeing I have nevir
known what Peas of Mind was since I behaved in Such a _Oudacious_
way w^h 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
Be a Dreadful _sin and shame_ (such as Trust I can never be Guilty
of) to be (w^h am not) and never Can Be insensible Of, Gents do
Consider all this Favorably because of my humble Amends w^h I here
Make with the greatest Trouble in my Mind that I have Had Ever
Since, it was all of the Sperrits I Tooke w^h made me Go On at such
a Rate w^h was always (beg to Assure y^r most resp^e 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 Often 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^h am
Certain never was any Thing Truer in my case) so as I get the Money
or What not, do whatever you Like w^h 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^e House if I
Get the Estate of w^h am much in Want of. Mr. Gamon (w^h 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^r Respect^e 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 _Situation_ in Tottenham C^t
Road) Huckaback which is his true name it was an _oudacious_ 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, say^g nothing of Me w^h w^d not allow because I
said I would Not Forgive Him because he had not injured me: But
you, w^h I wonder at his _Impudence_ in 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 Every Thing And then in that Case who
will the Property Go to Seeing I Leave never a Brother or Sister
Behind me. And Therefore Them That w^d Get it I Feel Sure of w^d
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 I shall Never Get Another Situat^n for
want of a Char^r which he will give me say^g noth^g at Present of
the Sort of Victules w^h give me Now to Eat Since Monday last, For
Which am Sure the Devil must have Come In to That Gentleman (Mr.
Tag-rag, he was only himself in a Situation in Holborn once, gett^g
the Business by marry^g the widow w^h wonder At for he is nothing
Particular to Look At.) I am y^rs
Humbly to Command Till Death (always Humbly Begging pardon for the
bad Conduct w^h was guilty of when In Liquor Especially On an Empty
Stomach, Having Taken Nothing all that Day excepting what I could
not Eat,)
"Your's most Resp^y
"TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE.
"P. S. Will Bring That young Man with Tears In his Eyes to Beg y^r
pardon Over again If You Like w^h 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 That 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. 9 Closet C^t. 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 actually to shed a tear but once--when
five-sixths of his little bill of costs (£196, 15s. 4d.) were taxed off
in an auction on a Bill of Exchange for £13.[7] As it was, he tweedled
the letter about in his hands for about five 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.
"Ha, ha, ha!" he laughed on concluding it--"a comical gentleman, Mr.
Titmouse, upon my honor!"
"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 quite say that, either," said Quirk, doubtingly--"I--don't
exactly look at it in _that_ light!"
"My dear sir!" exclaimed Gammon, leaning back in his chair, and 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 anything in the letter to laugh at so
particularly. It is written in a most respectful manner, and shows a
proper feeling towards the House!"
"Ay! see how he speaks of _me_!" 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 be to the
end of the chapter--of our proceedings; and when we've _done_
everything--really, Mr. Quirk! if one _were_ apt to lose one's temper,
it would be to see such a _thing_ as that put into possession of such a
fortune."
"That may be, Mr. Gammon; but I really--hem!--trust--I've--a higher
feeling!--To right--the injured"---- He could get no farther.
"Hem!" exclaimed Gammon.
The partners smiled at one another. A touch, or an attempted touch at
_disinterestedness_!--and at Quirk's time of life!
"But he's now in a humor for _training_, at all events--isn't he?"
exclaimed Quirk--"we've something now to go to work upon--gradually."
"Isn't that a leaf out of my book, Mr. Quirk?--isn't that exactly
what"----
"Well, well--what does it signify?" interrupted Quirk, rather
petulantly--"I've got a crotchet that'll do for us, yet, about the
matter of law, and make all right and tight--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 to-day,
we shall talk it all over. But, by the way, Mr. Quirk, I should say,
with all deference, that we'll 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
the real heir, after all--and if _he_ don't get it, _no one can_; and if
_he_ don't--_we_ don't! eh?"
"There's a very great deal of force in that observation, Mr. Quirk--it
gives one another view of the subject!"--said Gammon,
emphatically:--and, tolerably well pleased with one another, they
parted. If Quirk might be compared to an old file, Gammon was the
_oil_!--so they got on, in the main, very well together. It hardly
signifies what was the result of their interviews with their two
conveyancers. The two partners met the next morning on ordinary
business; and as each made no allusions 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 always did, on
hearing any suggestion from Mr. Gammon. So by that night's post was
despatched (post-paid) the following note to Mr. Titmouse:--
"Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap have the pleasure of acknowledging
the receipt of Mr. Titmouse's polite letter of last night's date;
and earnestly 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 all
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 may 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 Hill, 15th July 18--._
"P. S.--Messrs. Q. G. and S. regret to hear that any unpleasantness
has arisen (Gammon could hardly write for laughing) between 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 occasion of his calling
upon Messrs. Q. G. and S. They happened at that moment to be
engaged in matters of the highest importance; which will, they
trust, explain any appearance of abruptness 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 Huckaback.
Gammon thought it very possible that that gentleman might be in Mr.
Titmouse's confidence, and exercise a powerful influence 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
mollifying document, which being directed 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 Huckaback. That gentleman (who
seemed now virtually recognized by Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap as
Titmouse's confidant) shook his head ominously, exclaiming--"Blarny,
blarny!" and a bitter sneer settled on his disagreeable features, till
he had read down to the postscript; the perusal of which effected a
sudden change in his feelings. He declared, with a great oath, that
Messrs. 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 discernment 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. Huckaback, although his own double misnomer stuck
not a little in his throat. So effectual, indeed, had been that most
skilful postscript upon the party 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 a _wiser_ 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 Huckaback had not known what he had
been talking about. He also adverted to an _apparently_ careless
allusion by Huckaback to the injuries which had been inflicted upon him
by Titmouse on the Wednesday night: and which, by the way, Huckaback
determined it should be no fault of his if Titmouse easily forgot! He
hardly knew why--but he disliked this particularly.--Whom had he,
however, 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 Titmouse'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 described, and the tyrannical treatment which
he had experienced at Tag-rag and Co.'s. His tormentor there, however,
began at length, in some 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 entirely
to the discipline which had been inflicted upon him at the shop; and was
gratified at perceiving that all his 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 dignity and power had been doggedly set at nought
by one of his shopmen, who had since refused to make the least
submission, or offer any kind of apology. Such conduct struck at the
root of subordination 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 _hating_,
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? These were the kind of
thoughts often passing through his mind during the 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 significance 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
everywhere. 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. Everybody seemed to know what a sad
pretender he was: and the friends quitted the magic circle much earlier
than had been usual with Titmouse. What with the fatigue of a long day's
saunter, the vexation of having 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 walked along the
streets. At length they arrived at the open doors of a gloomy-looking
building, 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, stopping, "I've often thought that--that--there's
something in _Religion_."
"To be sure there is, for those that like it--who doubts it? It's all
very well in its place, no doubt," replied Huckaback, with much
surprise, which increased, as he felt himself being slowly swayed round
towards the building in question. "But what of that?"
"Oh, nothing; but--hem! hem!" replied Titmouse, sinking his voice to a
whisper--"a touch of--religion--eh?--would not be so much amiss, just
now! I feel--uncommon inclined 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 you or me to be"----
"But, Huck--how do you know but we might _get_ something to be thankful
for, by praying?--I've often heard of great things in that
line--but--_do_ come in with me, Huck!"
Huckaback stood for a moment irresolute, twirling about his cane, and
looking rather distastefully towards the dingy building. "It won't
answer," said he, faintly. Titmouse drew him nearer; but he suddenly
started back.--"No! oh, 'tis only a meeting-house, Tit! Curse
Dissenters, how I hate 'em! Isn't your precious governor one in that
line? Give _me_ a regular-like, respectable church, with a proper
steeple, and parson, and prayers, and an organ, and all that!"
Titmouse secretly acknowledged the force of these observations; and the
intelligent and piously disposed couple, with perhaps 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 both went, with loud clattering
steps and a bold air, into the very central seat (which happened to be
vacant) in the front of the gallery. Titmouse paid a most exemplary
attention to what was going on, kneeling, sitting, and standing with
exact propriety, in the proper places; joining audibly in the responses,
and keeping his eyes pretty steadily on the prayer-book, which he found
lying there. He even rebuked Huckaback for whispering (during one of the
most solemn parts of the service) that "there was an uncommon pretty gal
in the next pew!"--He thought that the clergyman was a remarkable fine
preacher, and said some things that he _must_ 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 _really_ mean--eh?--it's deuced dull work!"
"Hang me if I don't, though! and if anything should come of it--if I
_do_ but get the estate--(I wonder, now, where _Mr. Gammon_ goes to
church. I should like to know!--I'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, once or twice, but it didn't answer!"
"I'll 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 underneath a glaring gas-light--with a narrow
stripe of greasy black velvet across her forehead, and long ringlets
resting on her shoulders--bandying slang with two or three other such
creatures as Titmouse and Huckaback. Our friends entered and purchased a
cigar a-piece, which they lit on the spot; and after each of them had
exchanged an impudent wink with the Jewess, out they went, puffing
away--all the remains of their piety! When they had come to the end of
their cigars they parted, each speeding homeward. Titmouse, on reaching
his lodgings, sank into profound depression. He felt an awful conviction
that his visit to the cigar-shop had entirely spoiled the effect 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 having 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 affairs enough;
which I doubt not would have been rather a _dissuasive_ from suicide, in
the estimation of one who might be supposed ambitious of the _éclat_ of
a modern inquest; where, indeed, such strange antics are played by
certain new performers as would suffice 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.[8] But to one of so high an
ambition as Tittlebat Titmouse, how delightful would it not have been,
to anticipate becoming (what had been quite impracticable during life)
the object of public attention after his death--by means of a flaming
dissertation 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 surviving relatives still
further agonized by an exposure, all quivering under the recent stroke,
to the gaping vulgar! Indeed, I sometimes 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 carcasses; and secondly, private--to get the means of
studying anatomy by _post mortems_, which the said coroner never could
procure in 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
wagon crushing his legs, the coroner institutes an exact examination of
the structure of the _lungs_ and _heart_. I take it to be getting 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 first 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 of _cutting_ the Gordian knot of the difficulties of life; which
having been done, possibly the very first thing made manifest to the
spirit, after taking its mad leap into the dark may be--how very easily
the said knot might have been UNTIED; nay, that it was _on the very
point_ 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 natural and profound reflections; but, upon the whole, it is
hardly _probable_; for he knew that by doing so he would (first)
irreparably injure society, by depriving it of an enlightened and
invaluable member; (secondly,) inflict great indignity on his precious
body, of which, during life, he had always taken the most affectionate
care, by consigning it to burial in a cross-road, at night-time, with a
stake run through it,[9] 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 the earth. I own I was a little startled (as I
dare say was the pensive reader) at a passage of mournful significance
in Mr. Titmouse's last letter to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap,
viz.--"How full of trouble I am, _often thinking of death_, which is the
end of everything;" 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 exposed all his
little mean-mindedness and hypocrisy, simply because he had not learned
how to conceal it effectually. 'Twas 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 a while 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 mean
while--to proceed--his circumstances were 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 victim of his employer's vile and vulgar spirit of hatred and
oppression. His spirit, (such as it was,) in short, was very nearly
broken. Though he seized every opportunity that offered, to inquire for
another situation, he was unsuccessful; for all whom he applied to,
spoke of the _strict character_ they should require, "before taking a
new hand into their establishment." His occupation at nights, after
quitting 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 returning 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 recollections 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-humor, 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 _anything_,) 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 replenish
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
imperative single knock vibrated through his very heart.
"Oh, Mrs. Squallop! How d'ye do, Mrs. Squallop?" commenced 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--I a'n't come to stay, 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 Gripe been here to-day, and had
his hodious rates--(drat the poor, say I! them as can't work should
starve!--rates is a robbery!)--but howsomdever he's cleaned _me_ out
to-day; so, in coorse, I come up to _you_. 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--I 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?" inquired
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 _I_
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," throwing them on the table;
"and cuss me if I've another rap in the world; there, ma'am! take 'em,
do; and drive me desperate!"
"You're a liar, then, that's flat!" exclaimed Mrs. Squallop, slapping
her hand upon the table, with a violence that made the candle quiver on
it, and almost fall down. "_You_ have the _himperance_," said she,
sticking her arms akimbo, 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 fine
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 there, you good-for-nothing, nasty, proud puppy!--eugh! it
makes me sick to see you. _You_ dress yourself out like my lord mayor!
You've bought a gold chain with my rent, you rascally cheat! _You_ dress
yourself out?--Ha, ha!--you're a nasty, mean-looking, humpty-dumpty,
carroty-headed"----
"You'd better not say _that_ again, Mrs. Squallop," quoth Titmouse, with
a fierce glance.
"Not say it again!--ha, ha! Hoighty-toighty, carroty-haired
jack-a-dandy!--Why, you hop-o-my-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 in the court. You're a-taking of everybody 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've cheated this many months, all of his not
having sperrit to summons you! But _I'll_ set him upon you; you see if I
don't--and I'll have my own, too, or I wouldn't give _that_ for the
laws!" shouted Mrs. Squallop, 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 completely
cowed--"now, what good _can_ it do to go on in this way, Mrs. Squallop?"
"Missus me no missus, Mr. Titmouse, but pay me my rent, you
jack-a-dandy! You've got my rent on your back, and on your little
finger; and I'll have it off 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 everything, 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'll have my rights! Here's my son, Jem, a far
better-looking chap than you, though he _hasn't_ got hair like a sandy
mop all under his chin, and he's obligated for to work from one week's
end to another, in a paper cap and fustian jacket; and you--you painted
jackanapes! But now I have got you, and I'll turn you inside out, though
I know there's nothing in you! But I'll try to get at your fine coats,
and spurs, and trousers, your chains and pins, and make something of
them before I've done with you, you jack-a-dandy!"--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 hath said; for, in
truth, in your conduct there is not a little that to me, piteously
inclined towards you as I am, yet appeareth obnoxious to the edge of
this woman's reproaches. But think not, O bewildered and
not-with-sufficient-distinctness-discerning-the-nature-of-things
Titmouse! that she hath only a sharp and bitter tongue. In this woman
behold a mother, and it 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! 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--it is! 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 _me_--this twenty--years!" He fairly wept aloud.
"Well, then, more's the pity for _you_. If you had, they wouldn't have
let you make such a puppy of yourself--and at your landlady's expense,
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 every aggravating topic
against Titmouse that she could think of; but it became every moment
harder and harder to do so, for she was consciously softening rapidly
towards the weeping and miserable little object, on whom she had been
heaping such violent 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 _she_ had known--he had given her
youngest, child a pear not long ago. Really, thought Mrs. Squallop, I
may have gone a _leetle_ too 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_ be 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 extent 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?" inquired Mrs. Squallop, trying to assume a harsh tone; but her
eyes were a little obstructed with tears.
"I--I--_can't_ speak," sobbed Titmouse--"I--I feel ready to drop into a
cold early grave!--everybody hates me"--here he 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--I--wish I was
_dead_! I do!--you may take all I have--here it is," continued Titmouse,
with his foot pushing towards Mrs. Squallop the old hair trunk that
contained all his little finery. "I sha'n't want them much longer, for
I'm turned out of my situation."
This was too much for Mrs. Squallop, and she was obliged to wipe her
full eyes with the corner of her apron, without saying a word. Her heart
smote her for the misery she had inflicted on one who seemed quite
broken down. Pity suddenly flew, fluttering his wings--soft dove!--into
her heart, and put to flight in an instant all her enraged feelings.
"Come, Mr. Titmouse," said she, in quite an altered tone, "never mind
_me_; 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't go
on so, 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--I'll soon
fetch you up a bit, and a drop of beer--we've just had it in for our
suppers."
"No, thank you--I can't--I can't eat!" sobbed Titmouse.
"Oh, bother it, but you _shall_! I'll 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 recover herself.
"Lord-a-mercy!" said she, on entering her room, to her eldest daughter
and a neighbor who had just come in to supper--and while she hastily cut
a thick hunch of bread, and a good slice of cheese--"there I've been
a-rating that poor little chap, up at the top room, (my dandy lodger,
you know,) like anything--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 _good_ 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 _hodious_ 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 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 get myself into
the humor to _give it_ him as I wanted. And he's no father nor mother,
(half of which has happened to _you_, Sal, and the rest will happen one
of these days, you know--so you mind me while you have 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 a
lord, poor fool--as your poor dear father 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 neighbor, a skinny old widow, who had
never had chick nor child, and was always behind-hand with her own rent;
but whose effects were not worth distraining upon. "I'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
everything he can on his back, to be sure; but he a'n't quite a _rogue_,
neither."
"Ah, ha, Mrs. Squallop--you're such a simple soul!--Won't my fine
gentleman make off with his finery after to-night?"
"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 fine things with me, by way of security--that ring of his,
you know--eh?--Well, I'll _try_ it anyhow," said Mrs. Squallop, as she
set off up-stairs.
"I know what _I_ should do, if so be he was a lodger of _mine_, that's
all," said her visitor, significantly, (as Mrs. Squallop quitted the
room,) vexed to find her supper so considerably and unexpectedly
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, I'm sure, Mr. Titmouse."
"Thank you, thank you--I can't eat," said he, casting, however, upon the
victuals a hungry eye, which belied what he said, 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 wholesome 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'll sleep like a top
after it."
"You're uncommon kind, Mrs. Squallop; but I sha'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'll 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--dare say,
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?" inquired 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
descending the stairs. Some little time elapsed before he could recover
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.