"The beast! the fat old toad!" thought he, the instant that he had
finished masticating what had been supplied to him by real charity and
good-nature--"the vulgar wretch!--the nasty canting old hypocrite!--I
saw what she was driving at all the while!--she had her eye on my
ring!--She'd have me pawn it at old Balls's--ha, ha!--Catch me! that's
all!--Seven shillings a-week for this nasty hole!--I'll be bound I pay
nearly half the rent of the whole house--the old cormorant!--out of what
she gets from me! How I hate her! More than half my salary goes into her
greasy pocket! Cuss me if I couldn't have kicked her
down-stairs--porter, bread and cheese, and all--while she was standing
canting there!--A snivelling old beldam!--Pawn my ring!!--Lord!!"--Here
he began to undress. "Ha! I'm up to her; she'll be coming here
to-morrow, with that devil Thumbscrew, to distrain, I'll be sworn.
Well--I'll take care of _these_ anyhow;" and, kneeling down and
unlocking his trunk, he took out of it his guard-chain, breast-pin,
studs, and ring, carefully folded them up in paper, and depositing them
in his trousers' pockets, resolved that henceforth their nightly
resting-place should be--under his pillow; while during the day they
should accompany his person whithersoever he went. Next he bethought
himself of the two or three important papers to which Mr. Gammon had
referred; and, with tremulous eagerness, read them over once or twice,
but without being able to extract from them the slightest clew to their
real character and bearing. Then he folded them up in a half sheet of
writing-paper, which he proceeded to stitch carefully beneath the lining
of his waistcoat; after which he blew out his slim candle, and with a
heavy sigh got into bed. For some moments after he had blown out the
candle did the image of it remain on his aching and excited retina; and
just so long did the thoughts of _ten thousand a-year_ dwell on his
fancy, fading, however, quickly away amid the thickening gloom of
doubts, and fears, and miseries, which oppressed him. There he lies,
stretched on his bed, a wretched figure, lying on his breast, his head
buried beneath his feverish arms. Anon, he turns round upon his back,
stretches his wearied limbs to their uttermost, folds his arms on his
breast, then buries them beneath the pillow, under his head. Now he
turns on his right side, then on his left--presently he starts up, and
with muttered curse shakes his little pillow, flinging it down angrily.
He cannot sleep--he cannot rest--he cannot keep still. Bursting with
irritability, he gets out of bed, and steps to the window, which opening
wide, a slight gush of fresh air cools his hot face for a moment or two.
His wearied eye looks upward and beholds the moon shining overhead in
cold splendor, turning the clouds to gold as they flit past her, and
shedding a softened lustre upon the tiled roofs and irregular
chimney-pots--the only objects visible to him. No sound is heard, but
occasionally the dismal cry of disappointed cat, the querulous voice of
the watchman, and the echo of the rumbling hubbub of Oxford Street. O
miserable Titmouse! of what avail is it for thee thus to fix thy
sorrowful lack-lustre eye upon the cold Queen of Night!
* * * * *
At that moment there happened to be also gazing at the same glorious
object, but at some two hundred miles' distance from London, a very
different person, with very different feelings, and in very different
circumstances. It was one of the angels of the earth--a pure-hearted and
very beautiful girl; who, after a day of peaceful, innocent, and
charitable employment, and having just quitted the piano, where her
exquisite strains had soothed and delighted the feelings of her brother,
harassed with political anxieties, had retired to her chamber for the
night. A few moments before she was presented to the reader, she had
extinguished her taper, and dismissed her maid without her having
discharged more than half her accustomed duties--telling her that she
should finish undressing by the light of the moon, which then poured her
soft radiance into every corner of the spacious but old-fashioned
chamber. Then she drew her chair to the window-recess, and pushing open
the window, sat before it, only partially undressed as she was, her hair
dishevelled, her head leaning on her hand, gazing upon the scenery
before her with tranquil admiration. Silence reigned absolutely. Not a
sound issued from the ancient groves, which spread far and wide on all
sides of the fine old mansion in which she dwelt--solemn solitudes, nor
yet less soothing than solemn! Was not the solitude enhanced by a
glimpse she caught of a restless fawn, glancing in the distance across
the avenue, as he silently changed the tree under which he slept?--Then
the gentle breeze would enter her window, laden with sweet scents of
which he had just been rifling the coy flowers beneath, in their dewy
repose, tended and petted during the day by her own delicate
hand!--Beautiful moon!--cold and chaste in thy skyey palace, studded
with brilliant and innumerable gems, and shedding down thy rich and
tender radiance upon this lovely seclusion--was there upon the whole
earth a more exquisite countenance then turned towards thee than
hers?--Wrap thy white robe, dearest Kate, closer round thy fair bosom,
lest the amorous night-breeze do thee hurt, for he groweth giddy with
the sight of thy charms! Thy rich tresses, half-uncurled, are growing
damp--- so it is time that thy blue eyes should seek repose. Hie thee,
then, my love!--to yon antique couch, with its quaint carvings and satin
draperies dimly visible in the dusky shade, inviting thee to sleep: and
having first bent in cheerful reverence before thy Maker--to bed!--to
bed!--sweet Kate, nothing disturbing thy serene slumbers, or agitating
that beautiful bosom.--Hush! hush!--now she sleeps! It is well that
thine eyes are closed in sleep; for BEHOLD--see!--the brightness without
is disappearing; sadness and gloom are settling on the face of nature;
the tranquil night is changing her aspect; clouds are gathering, winds
are moaning; the moon is gone:--but sleep on, sweet Kate--sleep on,
dreaming not of dark days before thee--Oh, that thou couldst sleep on
till the brightness returned!
* * * * *
After having stood thus leaning against the window for nearly half an
hour, Titmouse, heavily sighing, returned to bed--but there he tossed
about in wretched restlessness till nearly four o'clock in the morning.
If he now and then sank into forgetfulness for a while, it was only to
be harassed by the dreadful image of Mrs. Squallop, shouting at him,
tearing his hair, cuffing him, flinging a pot of porter in his face,
opening his boxes, tossing his clothes about, taking out his invaluable
ornaments; by Tag-rag kicking him out of the shop; and Messrs. Quirk,
Gammon, and Snap dashing past him in a fine carriage, with six horses,
and paying no attention to him as he ran shouting and breathless after
him; Huckaback following, kicking and pinching him behind. These were
the few little bits of different colored glass in a mental kaleidoscope,
which, turned capriciously round, produced those innumerable fantastic
combinations out of the simple and ordinary events of the day, which we
call _dreams_--tricks of the wild sisters Fancy, when sober Reason has
left her seat for a while. But this is fitter for the Royal Society than
the bedroom of Tittlebat Titmouse; and I beg the reader's pardon.
About six o'clock, Titmouse rose and dressed himself; and, slipping
noiselessly and swiftly down-stairs, and out of the court, in order to
avoid all possibility of encountering his landlady or his tailor, soon
found himself in Oxford Street. Not many people were stirring there. One
or two men who passed him were smoking their morning's pipe, with a
half-awakened air, as if they had only just got out of a snug bed, in
which they always slept every moment that they lay upon it. Titmouse
almost envied them! What a squalid figure he looked, as he paced up and
down, till at length he saw the porter of Messrs. Tag-rag & Co. opening
the shop-door. He soon entered it, and commenced another jocund day in
that delightful establishment. The amiable Mr. Tag-rag continued
unaltered.
"You're at liberty to take yourself off, sir, this very day--this
moment, sir; and a good riddance," said he, bitterly, during the course
of the day, after demanding of Titmouse how he dared to give himself
such sullen airs; "and then we shall see how charming easy it is for
gents like you to get another sitiwation, sir! Your looks and manner is
quite a recommendation, sir! If I was you, sir, I'd raise my terms!
You're worth double what I give, sir!" Titmouse made no reply. "What do
you mean, sir, by not answering me--eh, sir?" suddenly demanded Mr.
Tag-rag, with a look of fury.
"I don't know what you'd have me say, sir. What am I to say, sir?"
inquired Titmouse, with a sigh.
"What, indeed! I should like to catch you! Say, indeed! Only say a
word--and out you go, neck and crop. Attend to that old lady coming in,
sir. And mind, sir, I've got my eye on you!" Titmouse did as he was bid;
and Tag-rag, a bland smile suddenly beaming on his attractive features,
hurried down towards the door, to receive some lady-customers, whom he
observed alighting from a carriage; and at that moment you would have
sworn that he was one of the kindest-hearted sweetest-tempered men in
the world.
When at length _this_ day had come to a close, Titmouse, instead of
repairing to his lodgings, set off, with a heavy heart, to pay a visit
to his excellent friend Huckaback, whom he knew to have received his
quarter's salary the day before, and from whom he faintly hoped to
succeed in extorting some trifling loan. "If you want to learn the value
of money, _try to borrow some_," says Poor Richard--and Titmouse was now
going to learn that useful but bitter lesson. Oh, how disheartening was
Mr. Huckaback's reception of him! That gentleman, in answering the
modest knock of Titmouse, suspecting who was his visitor, opened the
door but a little way, and in that little way, with his hand on the
latch, he stood, with a plainly repulsive look.
"Oh! it's you, Titmouse, is it?" he commenced coldly.
"Yes. I--I just want to speak a word to you--only a word or two, Hucky,
if you aren't busy?"
"Why, I was just going to go--but what d'ye want, Titmouse?" he inquired
in a freezing manner, not stirring from where he stood.
"_Let_ me come inside a minute," implored Titmouse, feeling as if his
little heart were really dropping out of him: and, in a most ungracious
manner, Huckaback motioned him in.
"Well," commenced Huckaback, with a chilling distrustful look.
"Why, Huck, I know you're a good-natured chap--you _couldn't_, just for
a short time, lend me ten shill"----
"No, curse me if I can: and that's flat!" briskly interrupted Huckaback,
finding his worst suspicions confirmed.
"Why, Hucky, wasn't you only yesterday paid your salary?"
"Well!--suppose I was?--what then? You're a monstrous cool hand,
Titmouse! I never!! So I'm to lend to you, when I'm starving myself!
I've received such a lot, too, haven't I?"
"I thought we'd always been friends, Hucky," said Titmouse, faintly;
"and so we shouldn't mind helping one another a bit! Don't you remember,
I once lent you half-a-crown?"
"Half-a-crown!--and that's nine months ago!"
"Do, Hucky, do lend me a few shillings. 'Pon my soul, I've not a
sixpence in the whole world."
"Ha, ha! A pretty chap to borrow! You can pay so well! By George,
Titmouse, you're a cool hand!"
"If you won't lend me, I must starve."
"Go to _my uncle's_." [Titmouse groaned aloud.] "Well--and why not? What
of that?" continued Huckaback, sharply and bitterly. "I dare say it
wouldn't be the first time you've done such a trick no more than me.
I've been obligated to do it. Why shouldn't you? A'n't there that ring?"
"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! that's just what Mrs. Squallop said last night!"
"Whew! _She's_ down on you, is she? And you have the face to come to
me!! _You_--that's a-going to be sold up, come to borrow! Lord, that's
good, anyhow! A queer use that to make of one's friends;--it's a taking
them in, I say!"
"Oh, Huck, Huck, if you only knew what a poor devil"----
"Yes, that's what I was a-saying; but it a'n't 'poor devils' one lends
money to so easily, I warrant me; though you _a'n't_ such a poor
devil--you're only shamming! Where's your guard-chain, your studs, your
breast-pin, your ring, and all that? Sell 'em! if not, anyhow, _pawn_
'em. Can't eat your cake and have it; fine back must have empty belly
with us sort of chaps."
"If you'll only be so uncommon kind as to lend me--this once--ten
shillings," continued Titmouse, in an imploring tone, "I'll bind myself,
by a solemn oath, to pay you the very first moment I get what's due to
me from Tag-rag & Co."---- Here he was almost choked by the sudden
recollection that he had next to nothing to receive.
"You've some property in the MOON, too, that's coming to you, you know!"
said Huckaback, with an insulting sneer.
"I know what you're driving at," said poor Titmouse; and he continued
eagerly, "and if anything _should_ ever come up from Messrs. Quirk,
Gam"----
"Yough! Faugh! Pish! Stuff!" burst out Huckaback, in a tone of contempt
and disgust; "_never_ thought there was anything in it, and now _know_
it! It's all my eye, and all that! You've been only humbugging me all
this while!"
"Oh, Hucky, Hucky! You don't say so!" groaned Titmouse, bursting into
tears; "you did not _always_ say so."
"It's enough that I say it _now_, then; will that do?" interrupted
Huckaback, impetuously.
"Oh, Lord, Lord! what is to become of me?" cried Titmouse, with a face
full of anguish.
[At this moment, the following was the course of thought passing through
the mind of Mr. Huckaback:--It is not _certain_ that nothing will come
of the fellow's affair with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. It was
hardly likely that they would have gone as far as Titmouse represented,
(lawyers as they were), unless they had seen very substantial grounds
for doing so. Besides, even though Titmouse might not get ten thousand
a-year, he might yet succeed in obtaining a very splendid sum of money:
and if he (Huckaback) could but get a little slice out of it, Titmouse
was now nearly desperate, and would promise anything; and if he could
but be wheedled into giving anything in writing--Well, thought
Huckaback, I'll try it however!]
"Ah, Titmouse, you're civil enough _now_, and would _promise_ anything,"
said Huckaback, appearing to hesitate; "but supposing I were to do what
you want, when you got your money you'd forget everything about it"----
"Forget my promise! Dear Hucky! only try me--do try me but once, that's
all! 'Pon my precious life, ten shillings is worth more to me now than a
hundred pounds may be by-and-by."
"Ay, so you say _now_; but d'ye mean to tell me, that in case I _was_
now to advance you ten shillings out of my small salary," continued
Huckaback, apparently carelessly, "you'd, for instance, pay me a hundred
pounds out of your thousands?"
"Oh, Lord! only you try me--do try me!" said Titmouse, eagerly.
"Oh, I dare say!" interrupted Huckaback, smiling incredulously, and
chinking some money in his trousers pocket. Titmouse heard it, and (as
the phrase is) his teeth watered; and he immediately swore such a
tremendous oath as I dare not set down in writing, that if Huckaback
would that evening lend him ten shillings, Titmouse would give him one
hundred pounds out of the very first moneys he got from the estate.
"Ten shillings is a slapping slice out of my little salary--I shall
have, by George, to go without lots of things I'd intended getting; it's
really worth ten pounds to me, just now."
"Why, dear Hucky! 'pon my life, 't is worth a hundred to _me_! Mrs.
Squallop will sell me out, bag and baggage, if I don't give her
something to-morrow!"
"Well, if I really thought--hem!--would you mind giving me, now, a bit
of black and white for it--just (as one might say) to show you was in
earnest?"
"I'll do anything you like; only let me feel the ten shillings in my
fingers!"
"Well, no sooner said than done, if you're a man of your word," said
Huckaback, in a trice producing a bit of paper, and a pen and ink. "So,
only just for the fun of it; but--Lord! what stuff!--I'm only bargaining
for a hundred pounds of moonshine. Ha, ha! I shall never see the color
of your money, not I; so I may as well say two hundred when I'm about
it, as one hundred"----
"Why, hem! Two hundred, Huck, _is_ rather a large figure; one hundred's
odds enough, I'm sure!" quoth Titmouse, meekly.
"P'r'aps, Tit, you forget the _licking_ you gave me the other day," said
Huckaback, with sudden sternness. "Suppose I was to go to an attorney,
and get the law of you, what a sight of damages I should have--three
hundred pounds at least!"
Titmouse appeared even yet hesitating.
"Well, then!" said Huckaback, flinging down his pen, "suppose I have
them damages yet"----
"Come, come, Hucky, 't is all past and gone, all that"--
"Is it? Well, I never! I shall never be again the same man I was before
that 'ere licking. I've a sort of a--a--of a--feeling inside, as if--my
breast was--I shall carry it to my grave--curse me if I sha'n't!"
[It never once occurred to Titmouse, not having his friend Mr. Gammon at
his elbow, that the plaintiff in the action of _Huckaback v. Titmouse_
might have been slightly at a loss for a _witness_ of the assault; but
something quite as good in its way--a heaven-sent suggestion--_did_
occur to him.]
"Ah," said Titmouse, suddenly, "that's true; and uncommon sorry am I;
but still, a hundred pounds is a hundred pounds, and a large sum for the
use of ten shillings, and a licking; but never you think it's all
moonshine about my business with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap! I
didn't intend to have said a word--but--you should only have heard what
_I've_ heard to-day from those gents; hem! but I won't split _again_
either!" he added mysteriously.
"Eh? What? Heard from those gents at Saffron Hill?" interrupted
Huckaback, briskly; "come, Titty, out with it--out with it; no secrets
between friends, Titty!"
"No, I'll be hanged if I do--I won't spoil it all again; and now, since
I've let out as much, which I didn't mean to do, I'll tell you something
else--ten shillings is no use to me, I must have a pound."
"Titty, Titty!" exclaimed Huckaback, with unaffected concern.
"And I won't give more than fifty for it when I get my property
either"---- [Huckaback whistled aloud, and with a significant air
buttoned up the pocket which contained the money; intimating that now
the negotiation was all at an end, for that Titmouse's new terms were
quite out of the question;] "for I know where I can get twenty pounds
easily, only I liked to come to a _friend_ first."
"You aren't behaving much like a friend to one as has always been a fast
friend of yours, Titty! _A pound!_--I haven't got it to part with,
that's flat; so, if that's really your lowest figure, why, you must even
go to your other friend, and leave poor Hucky!"
"Well, I don't mind saying only ten shillings," quoth Titmouse, fearing
that he had been going on _rather_ too fast.
"Ah, that's something reasonable-like, Titty! and to meet you like a
friend, I'll take fifty pounds instead of a hundred; but you won't
object now to--you know--a deposit; that ring of yours--well, well! it
don't signify, since it goes against you; so now, here goes, a bit of
paper for ten shillings, ha, ha!" and taking a pen, after a pause, in
which he called to mind as much of the phraseology of money securities
as he could, he drew up the following stringent document, which I give
_verbatim et literatim_:--
"_Know all Men_ That you are bound to _Mr. R. Huckaback_ Promising
the Bearer (on _Demand_) To Pay Fifty Pounds in cash out of the
estate, _if you Get it_. (Value received.)
"(Witness,) 22d July 18--.
"R. HUCKABACK."
"There, Titty--if you're an honest man, and would do as you would be
done by," said Huckaback, after signing his own name as above, handing
the pen to Titmouse, "sign that; just to show your honor, like--for in
course--bating the ten shillings I've lent you--I sha'n't ever come on
you for the money--get as much as you may."
A blessed thought occurred to poor Titmouse in his extremity, viz. that
there was _no stamp_ on the above instrument, (and he had never seen a
promissory-note or bill of exchange without one;) and he signed it
instantly, with many fervent expressions of gratitude. Huckaback
received the valuable security with apparently a careless air; and after
cramming it into his pocket, as if it had been in reality only a bit of
waste paper, counted out ten shillings into the eager hand of Titmouse;
who, having thus most unexpectedly succeeded in his mission, soon
afterwards departed--each of this pair of worthies fancying that he had
succeeded in cheating the other. Huckaback, having very cordially shaken
Titmouse by the hand, heartily damned him upon shutting the door on him;
and then anxiously perused and re-perused his "security," wondering
whether it was possible for Titmouse at any time thereafter to evade it,
and considering by what means he could acquaint himself with the
progress of Titmouse's affairs. The latter gentleman, as he hurried
homeward, dwelt for a long while upon only one thought--how fortunate
was the omission of his friend to have a stamp upon his security! When
and where, thought he, was it that he had heard that nothing would do
without a stamp? However, he had got the ten shillings safe; and
Huckaback might wait for his fifty pounds till--but in the meanwhile he,
Titmouse, seemed to stand a fair chance of going to the dogs; the ten
shillings, which he had just obtained with so much difficulty, were to
find their way immediately into the pockets of his landlady, whom it
might pacify for a day or two, and to what quarter was he now to look
for the smallest assistance? What was to become of him? Titmouse was a
miserable fool; but thoughts such as these, in such circumstances as
his, would have forced themselves into the mind of even a fool! How
could he avoid--oh, horrid thought!--soon parting with, or at least
pawning, his ring and his other precious trinkets? He burst into a
perspiration at the mere thought of seeing them hanging ticketed for
sale in the window of old Balls! As he slowly ascended the stairs which
led to his apartment, he felt as if he were following some unseen
conductor to a dungeon.
He was not aware that all this while, although he heard nothing from
them, he occupied almost exclusively the thoughts of those distinguished
practitioners in the law, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. They, in
common with Huckaback, had an intense desire to share in his anticipated
good fortune, and determined to do so according to their opportunities.
The excellent Huckaback (a model of an usurer on a small scale) had
promptly and adroitly seized hold of the very first opportunity that
presented itself, for securing a little return hereafter for the ten
shillings, with which he had so generously parted when he could so ill
afford it; while Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap were racking their
brains, and from time to time, those of Messrs. Mortmain and
Frankpledge, to discover some instrument strong and large enough to cut
a fat slice for themselves out of the fortune they were endeavoring, for
that purpose, to put within the reach of Mr. Titmouse. A rule of three
mode of stating the matter would be thus: as the inconvenience of
Huckaback's parting with his ten shillings and his waiver of damages for
a very cruel assault, were to his contingent gain, hereafter, of fifty
pounds; so were Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's risk, exertions,
outlay, and benefit conferred on Titmouse, to their contingent gain of
ten thousand pounds. The principal point of difference between them
was--as to the mode of _securing_ their future recompense; in which it
may have been observed by the attentive reader, with respect to the
precipitancy of Huckaback and the hesitating caution of Messrs. Quirk,
Gammon, and Snap, that--"_thus fools_" (_e. g._ Huckaback) "_rushed in
where angels_" (_i. e._ Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap) "_feared to
tread_." Let me not, however, for a moment, insinuate that both these
parties were actuated by only one motive, _i. e._ to make a prey of this
little monkey _millionnaire_ that was to be. 'Tis true that Huckaback
appears to have driven rather a hard bargain with his distressed friend,
(and almost every one who, being similarly situated, has occasion for
such services as Titmouse sought from Huckaback, will find himself
called upon to pay, in one way or another, pretty nearly the same price
for them;) but it was attended with one good effect;--for the specific
interest in Titmouse's future prosperity, acquired by Huckaback,
quickened the latter gentleman's energies and sharpened his wits in the
service of his friend. But for this, indeed, it is probable that Mr.
Huckaback's door would have become as hopelessly closed against Titmouse
as was that of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. Some two or three nights
after the little transaction between the two friends which I have been
describing, Huckaback called upon Titmouse, and after greeting him
rather cordially, told him that he had come to put him up to a trick
upon the Saffron Hill people, that would tickle them into a little
activity in his affairs. The trick was--the sending a letter to those
gentlemen calculated to--but why attempt to characterize it? I have the
original document lying before me, which was sent by Titmouse the very
next morning to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and here follows a
_verbatim_ copy of it:--
"_No. 9, Closet Court, Oxford Street._
"_To Messrs._ QUERK & CO.
"Gents,--Am Sorry _to_ Trouble You, But Being _Drove quite
desperate_ at my Troubles (which have bro^t me to my Last Penny a
Week ago) and Mrs. Squallop my Landlady w^d distrain on Me only
that There Is nothing to distrain on, Am Determined to Go Abroad in
a Week's Time, and shall Never come Any More back again with Great
Grief w^h Is What I now Write To tell You Of (Hoping you will
please Take No notice of It) So Need give Yourselves No Further
Concern with my Concerns Seeing The Estate is Not To Be Had and Am
Sorry you Sh^d Have Had so Much trouble with My Affairs w^h c^d not
Help. Sh^d have Much liked The Thing, only it Was Not worth
Stopping For, or Would, but Since It Was not God's Will be Done
_which it Will_. Hav^g raised a Trifle On my Future Prospects (w^h
am Certain There is Nothing In) from a _True Friend_" [need it be
guessed at whose instance these words had found their way into the
letter?] "w^h was certainly uncommon inconvenient to That Person
But He w^d do Anything to Do me good As he says Am going to raise A
Little More from a Gent That does _Things of That Nature_ w^h will
help me with Expense in Going Abroad (which place I Never mean to
Return from.) Have fixed for the 10th To Go on w^h Day Shall Take
leave Of Mr. Tag-rag (who on my Return Shall be glad to See Buried
or in the Workhouse.) Have wrote This letter Only to Save Y^r
Respectable Selves trouble w^h Trust You w^d not have Taken.
"And Remain,
"Gents,
"Y^r humble Unworthy servant,
"T. TITMOUSE.
"_P. S._--Hope you will Particularly Remember me to Mr. Gamon. What
is to become of me, know nothing, being so troubled. Am Humbly
Determined not to employ any Gents in This matter except y^r most
Respectable House, and sh^d be most Truly Sorry to Go Abroad wh^h
_am really Often thinking of in Earnest_. Unless something Speedily
Turns Up, favorable, T. T.--Sh^d like (By the way) to know if you
sh^d be so Disposed what y^r resp^e house w^d take for my Chances
Down (_Out and out_) In a Round Sum (_Ready money_). And hope if
they Write It will be by Next Post or Shall be Gone Abroad."
Old Mr. Quirk, as soon as he had finished the perusal of this skilful
document, started, a little disturbed, from his seat, and bustled into
Mr. Gammon's room with Mr. Titmouse's open letter in his
hand.--"Gammon," said he, "just cast your eye over this, will you?
Really, we must look after Titmouse, or, by Jove! he'll be gone!" Mr.
Gammon took the letter rather eagerly, read deliberately through it, and
then looked up at his fidgety partner, who stood anxiously eying him,
and smiled.
"Well, Gammon, I really think--eh? Don't you"----
"Upon my word, Mr. Quirk, this nearly equals his last letter; and it
also seems to have produced on you the effect desired by its gifted
writer!"
"Well, Gammon, and what of that? Because my heart don't happen to be
_quite_ a piece of flint, you're always"--
"You might have been a far wealthier man than you are but for that soft
heart of yours, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, with a bland smile.(!)
"I know I might, Gammon--I know it. I thank my God I'm not so keen after
business that I can't feel for this poor soul--really, his state's quite
deplorable."
"Then, my dear sir, put your hand into your pocket at once, as I was
suggesting last night, and allow him a weekly sum."
"A--hem! hem! Gammon"--said Quirk, sitting down, thrusting his hands
into his waistcoat pockets, and looking very earnestly at Gammon.
"Well, then," replied that gentleman, shrugging his shoulders, in answer
to the mute appeal--"write and say you _won't_--'tis soon done, and so
the matter ends."
"Why, Gammon, you see, if he goes abroad," said Quirk, after a long
pause--"we lose him forever."
"Pho!--go abroad! He's too much for you, Mr. Quirk--he is indeed, ha,
ha!"
"You're fond of a laugh at my expense, Gammon; it's quite pleasant--you
can't think how I like that laugh of yours!"
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Quirk--but you really misunderstand me; I was
laughing only at the absurd inconsistency of the fellow: he's a most
transparent little fool, and takes _us_ for such. Go abroad! Ridiculous
pretence!--In his precious postscript he undoes all--he says he is only
often _thinking_ of going--- pshaw!--That the wretch is in great
distress, is very probable; but it must go hard with him before he
either commits suicide or goes abroad, I warrant him: I've no fears on
_that_ score--but there _is_ a point in the letter that may be worth
considering--I mean the fellow's hint about borrowing money on his
prospects."
"Yes, to be sure--the very thing that struck _me_." [Gammon faintly
smiled.] "I never thought much about the _other_ part of the letter--all
stuff about going abroad--pho!--But to be sure, if he's trying to raise
money, he may get into keen hands.--Do you really think he _has_ been
trying on anything of the sort?"
"Oh no--of course it's only a little lie of his--or he must have found
out some greater fool than himself, which I had not supposed possible.
But however that may be, I really think, Mr. Quirk, it's high time that
we should take some decided step."
"Well,--yes, it may be," said Quirk, slowly--"and I must say that
Mortmain encouraged me a good deal the day before yesterday."
"Well, and you know what Mr. Frankpledge"----
"Oh, as to Frankpledge--hem!"
"What of Mr. Frankpledge, Mr. Quirk?" inquired Gammon, rather tartly.
"There! there!--Always the way--but what does it signify? Come, come,
Gammon, we know each other too well to quarrel!--I don't mean anything
disrespectful to Mr. Frankpledge, but when Mortmain has been one's
conveyancer these twenty years, and never once--hem!--but, however, he
tells me that we are now standing on sure ground, or that he don't know
what sure ground is, and sees no objection to our even taking
preliminary steps in the matter, which indeed I begin to think it high
time to do!--And as for securing ourselves in respect of any advances to
Titmouse--he suggests our taking a bond, conditioned--say, for the
payment of £500 or £1,000 on demand, under cover of which one might
advance him, you know, just such sums as, and when we pleased; one could
stop when one thought fit; one could begin with three or four pounds
a-week, and increase as his prospects improved--eh!"
"You know _I've_ no objection to such an arrangement; but consider, Mr.
Quirk, we must have patience; it will take a long while to get our
verdict, you know, and perhaps as long to _secure_ it afterwards; and
this horrid little wretch all the while on our hands; what the deuce to
do with him, I really don't know!"
"Humph, humph!" grunted Quirk, looking very earnestly and uneasily at
Gammon.
"And what I chiefly fear is this,--suppose he should get dissatisfied
with the amount of our advances, and, knowing the state and prospects of
the cause, should _then_ turn restive?"
"Ay, confound it, Gammon, all that should be looked to, shouldn't it?"
interrupted Quirk, with an exceedingly chagrined air. "I always like to
look a long way a-head!"
"To be sure," continued Gammon, thoughtfully; "by that time he may have
got substantial friends about him, whom he could persuade to become
security to us for further and past advances."
"Nay, now you name the thing, Gammon; it was what I was thinking of only
the other day:" he dropped his voice--"Isn't there one or two of our own
clients, hem!"----
"Why, certainly, there's old Fang; I don't think it impossible he might
be induced to do a little usury--it's all he lives for, Mr. Quirk; and
the security is good in reality, though perhaps not exactly marketable."
"Nay; but, on second thoughts, why not do it myself, if anything _can_
be made of it?"
"That, however, will be for future consideration. In the mean time, we'd
better send for Titmouse, and manage him a little more--discreetly, eh?
We did not exactly hit it off last time, did we, Mr. Quirk?" said
Gammon, smiling rather sarcastically. "We must keep him at Tag-rag's, if
the thing _can_ be done for the present, at all events."
"To be sure; he couldn't then come buzzing about us, like a gad-fly;
he'd drive us mad in a week, I'm sure."
"Oh, I'd rather give up everything than submit to it. It can't be
difficult for us, I should think, to bind him to our own terms--to put a
bridle in the ass's mouth? Let us say that we insist on his signing an
undertaking to act implicitly according to our directions in
everything."
"Ay, to be sure; on pain of our instantly turning him to the right
about. I fancy it will _do_ now! It was just what I was thinking of!"
"And, now, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, with as much of peremptoriness in
his tone as he could venture upon to Mr. Quirk, "you really must do me
the favor to leave the management of this little wretch to me. You see,
he seems to have taken--Heaven save the mark!--a fancy to me, poor
fool!--and--and--it must be owned we miscarried sadly, the other night,
on a certain grand occasion--eh?"
Quirk shook his head dissentingly.
"Well, then," continued Gammon, "upon one thing I am fixedly determined;
one or the other of us shall undertake Titmouse, solely and singly.
Pray, for Heaven's sake, tackle him yourself--a disagreeable duty! You
know, my dear sir, how invariably I leave everything of real importance
and difficulty to your very superior tact and experience; but _this_
little matter--pshaw!"
"Come, come, Gammon, that's a drop of sweet oil"--
Quirk might well say so, for he felt its softening, smoothing effects
already.
"Upon my word and honor, Mr. Quirk, I'm in earnest. Pshaw!--and you must
know it. I know you too well, my dear sir, to attempt to"----
"Certainly," quoth Quirk, smiling shrewdly, "I must say, those must get
up _very_ early that can find Caleb Quirk napping."--Gammon felt at that
moment that for several years _he_ must have been a very early riser!
And so the matter was arranged in the manner which Gammon had from the
first wished and determined upon, _i. e._ that Mr. Titmouse should be
left entirely to his management; and, after some little discussion as to
the time and manner of the meditated advances, the partners parted. On
entering his own room, Quirk, closing his door, stood for some time
leaning against the side of the window, with his hands in his pockets,
and his eyes instinctively resting on his banker's book, which lay on
the table. He was in a very brown study, the subject on which his
thoughts were busied, being the prudence or imprudence of leaving
Titmouse thus in the hands of Gammon. It might be all very well for
Quirk to _assert_ his self-confidence when in Gammon's presence; but he
did not really feel it. He never left Gammon after any little difference
of opinion, however friendly, without a secret suspicion that somehow or
another Gammon had been too much for him, and always gained his purposes
without giving Quirk any handle of dissatisfaction. In fact, Quirk was
thoroughly afraid of Gammon, and Gammon knew it. In the present
instance, an undefinable but increasing suspicion and discomfort forced
him presently back again into Gammon's room.
"I say, Gammon, you understand, eh?--_Fair play_, you know," he
commenced, with a shy embarrassed air, ill concealed under a forced
smile.
"Pray, Mr. Quirk, what may be your meaning?" inquired Gammon, with
unusual tartness, with an astonished air, and blushing violently, which
was not surprising; for ever since Quirk had quitted him, Gammon's
thoughts had been occupied with only one question, viz. how he should go
to work with Titmouse to satisfy him that he (Gammon) was the only
member of the firm that had a real disinterested regard for him, and so
acquire a valuable control over him! Thus occupied, the observation of
Quirk had completely taken Gammon aback; and he lost his presence of
mind, of course in such case his _temper_ quickly following. "Will you
favor me, Mr. Quirk, with an explanation of your extraordinarily absurd
and offensive observation?" said he, reddening more and more as he
looked at Mr. Quirk.
"You're a queer hand, Gammon," replied Quirk, with almost an equally
surprised and embarrassed air, for he could not resist a sort of
conviction that Gammon had fathomed what had been passing in his mind.
"What did you mean, Mr. Quirk, by your singular observation just now?"
said Gammon, calmly, having recovered his presence of mind.
"Mean? Why, that--we're _both_ queer hands, Gammon, ha, ha, ha!"
answered Quirk, with an anxious laugh.
"I shall leave Titmouse entirely--_entirely_, Mr. Quirk, in your hands;
I will have nothing henceforth whatever to do with him. I am quite sick
of him and his concerns already; I cannot bring myself to undertake such
an affair, and that was what I was thinking of,--when"----
"Eh? indeed! Well, to be sure! Only think!" said Quirk, dropping his
voice, looking to see that the two doors were shut, and resuming the
chair which he had lately quitted, "What do you think has been occurring
to _me_ in my own room, just now? Whether it would suit us better to
throw this monkey overboard, put ourselves confidentially in
communication with the party in possession, and tell him that--hem!--for
a--eh? You understand--eh? a con-si-de-ra-tion--a _suitable_
con-si-de-ra-tion!"
"Mr. Quirk! Heavens!" Gammon was really amazed.
"Well? You needn't open your eyes so very wide, Mr. Gammon--why
shouldn't it be done? You know we wouldn't be satisfied with a trifle,
of course. But suppose he'd agreed to buy our silence with four or five
thousand pounds, really, it's well worth considering! Upon my soul,
Gammon, it _is_ a hard thing on him when one makes the case one's
own!--no fault of his, and it is very hard for him to turn out, and for
such a--eugh!--such a wretch as Titmouse; you'd feel it yourself,
Gammon, if you were in his place, and I'm sure you'd think that four or
five thous"----
"But is not Titmouse our POOR NEIGHBOR?" said Gammon, with a sly smile.
"Why, _that's_ only one way of looking at it, Gammon! Perhaps the man we
are going to eject does a vast deal of good with the property; certainly
he bears a very high name in the county--and fancy Titmouse with ten
thousand a-year!"----
"Mr. Quirk, Mr. Quirk, it's not to be thought of for a moment--not for a
moment," interrupted Gammon, seriously, and even somewhat
peremptorily--"nothing should persuade _me_ to be any party to such"----
At this moment Snap burst into the room with a heated appearance, and a
chagrined air----
"_Pitch_ v. _Grub_----" he commenced breathlessly--
[This was a little pet action of poor Snap's: it was for slander
uttered by the defendant (an hostler) against the plaintiff, (a waterman
on a coach stand,) charging the plaintiff with having _the mange_, on
account of which a woman refused to marry him.]
"Pitch v. Grub--just been tried at Guildhall. Witness bang up to the
mark--words and special damage proved; slapping speech from Sergeant
Shout. Verdict for plaintiff--but only one farthing damages; and Lord
Widdrington said, as the jury had given one farthing for damages, _he_
would give him another for costs,[10] and that would make a halfpenny;
on which the defendant's attorney tendered me--a halfpenny on the spot.
Laughter in court--move for new trial first day of next term, and tip
his lordship a rattler in the next Sunday's _Flash_!"
"Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, sternly, "once for all, if this sort of low
business is to go on, I'll leave the firm, come what will!" [It
flickered across his mind that Titmouse would be a capital client to
start with on his own account.] "I protest our names will quite stink in
the profession."
"Good, Mr. Gammon, good!" interposed Snap, warmly; "your little action
for the usury penalties the other day came off so uncommon well! the
judge's compliment to you was _so_ nice"----
"Let me tell you, Mr. Snap," interrupted Gammon, reddening----
"Pho! Come! Can't be helped--fortune of the war,"--interrupted the head
of the firm,--"there's only one thing to be looked to,--_Is Pitch
solvent?_--of course we've security for costs out of pocket--eh, Snap?"
Now the fact was, that poor Snap had picked up Pitch at one of the
police offices, and, in his zeal for business, had undertaken his case
on pure speculation, relying on the apparent strength of the plaintiff's
case--Pitch being only a waterman attached to a coach stand. When,
therefore, the very ominous question of Mr. Quirk met Snap's ear, he
suddenly happened (at least, he chose to appear to think so) to hear
himself called for from the clerk's room, and bolted out of Mr. Gammon's
room rather unceremoniously.
"Snap will be the ruin of the firm, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, with an air
of disgust. "But I really must get on with the brief I'm drawing; so,
Mr. Quirk, we can talk about Titmouse to-morrow!"
The brief he was drawing up was for a defendant who was going to nonsuit
the plaintiff, (a man with a large family, who had kindly lent the
defendant a considerable sum of money,) solely because of the _want of a
stamp_.
Quirk differed in opinion with Gammon, and, as he resumed his seat at
his desk, he could not help writing the words, "_Quirk and Snap_," and
thinking how well such a firm would sound and work--for Snap was verily
a chip of the old block!
There will probably never be wanting those who will join in abusing and
ridiculing attorneys and solicitors. Why? In almost every action at law,
or suit in equity, or proceeding which may, or may not, lead to one,
each client conceives a natural dislike for his opponent's attorney or
solicitor. _If the plaintiff succeeds_, he hates the defendant's
attorney for putting him (the said plaintiff) to so much expense, and
causing him so much vexation and danger; and, when he comes to settle
with his own attorney, there is not a little heart-burning in looking at
his bill of costs, however reasonable. _If the plaintiff fails_, of
course it is through the ignorance and unskilfulness of his attorney or
solicitor! and he hates almost equally his own, and his opponent's
attorney!--Precisely so is it with a successful or unsuccessful
_defendant_. In fact, an attorney or solicitor is almost always obliged
to be acting _adversely to some one_ of whom he at once makes an enemy;
for an attorney's weapons must necessarily be pointed almost invariably
at our pockets! He is necessarily, also, called into action in cases
when all the worst passions of our nature--our hatred and revenge, and
our self-interest--are set in motion. Consider the mischief which might
be constantly done on a grand scale in society, if the vast majority of
attorneys and solicitors were not honorable, and able men! Conceive
them, for a moment, disposed everywhere to stir up litigation, by
availing themselves of their perfect acquaintance with almost all men's
circumstances--artfully inflaming irritable and vindictive clients,
kindling, instead of stifling, family dissensions, and fomenting public
strife--why, were they to do only a hundredth part of what it is thus in
their power to do, our courts of justice would soon be doubled, together
with the number of our judges, counsel, and attorneys; new jails must be
built to hold the ruined litigants--and the insolvent court enlarged,
and in constant session throughout the year.
But not _all_ of this body of honorable and valuable men are entitled to
this tribute of praise. There are a few QUIRKS, several GAMMONS, and
many SNAPS, in the profession of the law--men whose characters and
doings often make fools visit the sins of individuals upon the whole
species; nay, there are far worse, as I have heard--but I must return to
my narrative.
On Friday night, the 28th July 18--, the state of Mr. Titmouse's affairs
was this; he owed his landlady £1, 9s.; his washerwoman, 6s.; his
tailor, £1, 8s.--in all, three guineas; besides 10s. to Huckaback, (for
Tittlebat's notion was, that on repayment at any time of 10s., Huckaback
would be bound to deliver up to him the document or voucher which he had
given that gentleman,) and a weekly accruing rent of 7s. to his
landlady, besides some very small sums for coffee, (alias chiccory,)
tea, bread, and butter, &c. To meet these serious liabilities, he had
literally--_not one farthing_.
On returning to his lodgings that night, he found a line from
Thumbscrew, his landlady's broker, informing him that, unless by ten
o'clock on the next morning his arrears of rent were paid, he should
distrain, and she would also give him notice to quit at the end of the
week; that nothing could induce her to give him further time. He sat
down in dismay on reading this threatening document; and, in sitting
down, his eye fell on a bit of paper lying on the floor, which must have
been thrust under the door. From the marks on it, it was evident that he
must have trod upon it in entering. It proved to be a summons from the
Court of Requests, for £1, 8s. due to Job Cox, his tailor. He deposited
it mechanically on the table; and for a minute he dared hardly breathe.
This seemed something really like a _crisis_.
After a silent agony of half an hour's duration, he rose trembling from
his chair, blew out his candle, and, in a few minutes' time, might have
been seen standing with a pale and troubled face before the window of
old Balls, the pawnbroker, peering through the suspended
articles--watches, sugar-tongs, rings, brooches, spoons, pins,
bracelets, knives and forks, seals, chains, &c.--to see whether any one
else than old Balls were within. Having at length watched out a very
pale and wretched-looking woman, Titmouse entered to take her place; and
after interchanging a few faltering words with the white-haired and
hard-hearted old pawnbroker, produced his guard-chain, his breast-pin,
and his ring, and obtained three pounds two shillings and sixpence on
the security of them.
With this sum he slunk out of the shop, and calling on Cox, his tailor,
paid his trembling old creditor the full amount of his claim (£1, 8s.)
together with 4s., the expense of the summons--simply asking for a
receipt, without uttering another word, for he felt almost choked. In
the same way he dealt with Mrs. Squallop, his landlady--not uttering one
word in reply to her profuse and voluble apologies, but pressing his
lips between his teeth till the blood came from them, while his little
heart seemed splitting within him. Then he walked up-stairs, with a
desperate air--having just eighteen pence in his pocket--_all his
ornaments gone_--his washerwoman yet unpaid--his rent going on--several
other little matters unsettled; and the 10th of August approaching, when
he expected to be dismissed penniless from Mr. Tag-rag's and thrown on
his own resources for subsistence. When he had regained his room, and
having shut the door, had re-seated himself at his table, he felt for a
moment as if he could have yelled. Starvation and Despair, two fiends,
seemed sitting beside him in shadowy ghastliness, chilling and palsying
him--petrifying his heart within him. WHAT WAS HE TO DO? Why had he been
born? Why was he so much more persecuted and miserable than any one
else? Visions of his ring, his breast-pin, his studs, stuck in a bit of
card, with their price written above them, and hanging exposed to his
view in old Balls' window, almost frenzied him. Thoughts such as these
at length began to suggest others of a dreadful nature.... The means
were at that instant within his reach.... A sharp knock at the door
startled him out of the stupor into which he was sinking. He listened
for a moment as if he were not certain that the sound was a real one.
There seemed a ton-weight upon his heart, which a mighty sigh could lift
for an instant, but not remove; and he was in the act of heaving a
second such sigh, as he languidly opened the door--expecting to
encounter Mr. Thumbscrew, or some of his myrmidons, who might not know
of his recent settlement with his landlady.
"Is this Mr.--Tit--Titmouse's?" inquired a genteel-looking young man.
"Yes," replied Titmouse, sadly.
"Are you Mr. Titmouse?"
"Yes," he replied, more faintly than before.
"Oh--I have brought you, sir, a letter from Mr. Gammon, of the firm of
Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, solicitors, Saffron Hill," said the stranger,
unconscious that his words shot a flash of light into a little abyss of
grief and despair before him. "He begged me to give this letter into
your own hands, and said he hoped you'd send him an answer by the first
morning's post."
"Yes--oh--I see--certainly--to be sure--with pleasure--how is Mr.
Gammon?--uncommon kind of him--very humble respects to him--take care to
answer it," stammered Titmouse, in a breath, hardly knowing whether he
were standing on his head or his heels, and not quite certain where he
was.
"Good-evening, sir," replied the stranger, evidently a little surprised
at Titmouse's manner, and withdrew. Titmouse shut his door. With
prodigious trepidation of hand and flutter of spirits, he opened the
letter--an enclosure meeting his eyes in the shape of a bank-note.
"Oh Lord!" he murmured, turning white as the sheet of paper he held.
Then the letter dropped from his hand, and he stood as if stupefied for
some moments; but presently rapture darted through him; a five-pound
bank-note was in his hand, and it had been enclosed in the following
letter:--
"_35, Thavies' Inn, 29th July 18--._
"MY DEAR MR. TITMOUSE,
"Your last note addressed to our firm, has given me the greatest
pain, and I hasten, on my return from the country, to forward you
the enclosed trifle, out of my own personal resources--and I
sincerely hope it will be of temporary service to you. May I beg
the favor of your company on Sunday evening next, at seven o'clock,
to take a glass of wine with me? I shall be quite alone and
disengaged, and may have it in my power to make you some important
communications, concerning matters in which, I assure you, I feel a
very deep interest on your account. Begging the favor of an early
answer to-morrow morning, I trust you will believe me, ever, my
dear sir, your most faithful humble servant,
"OILY GAMMON.
"TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE, ESQ."
The first balmy drop of the long-expected golden shower had at length
fallen upon the panting Titmouse. How polite--nay, how affectionate and
respectful--was the note of Mr. Gammon! and, for the first time in his
life, he saw himself addressed
"TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE, ESQUIRE."
If his room had been large enough to admit of it, he would have skipped
round it again and again in his frantic ecstasy. Having read over
several times the blessed letter of Mr. Gammon, he hastily folded it up,
crumpled up the bank-note in his hand, clapped his hat on his head, blew
out his candle, rushed down-stairs as if a mad dog were at his heels,
and in three or four minutes' time might have been seen standing
breathless before old Balls, whom he had almost electrified by asking,
with an eager and joyous air, for a return of the articles which he had
only an hour before pawned with him; at the same time laying down the
duplicates and the bank-note. The latter, old Balls scrutinized with
most anxious exactness, and even suspicion--but it seemed perfectly
unexceptionable; so he re-delivered to Titmouse his precious ornaments,
and the change out of his note, _minus_ a trifling sum for interest.
Titmouse then started off at top speed to Huckaback; but it suddenly
occurring to him as possible that that gentleman, on hearing of his
good fortune, might look for an immediate repayment of the ten
shillings he had recently lent to Titmouse, he stopped
short--paused--and returned home. There he had hardly been seated a
moment, when down he pelted again, to buy a sheet of paper and a wafer
or two, to write his letter to Mr. Gammon; which having obtained, he
returned at the same speed, almost overturning his fat landlady, who
looked after him as though he were a mad cat scampering up and
down-stairs, and fearing that he had gone suddenly crazy. The note he
wrote to Mr. Gammon was so exceedingly extravagant, that, candid as I
have (I trust) hitherto shown myself in the delineation of Mr.
Titmouse's character, I cannot bring myself to give the aforesaid letter
to the reader--making all allowances for the extraordinary excitement of
its writer.
Sleep, that night and morning, found and left Mr. Titmouse the assured
exulting master of TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR. Of this fact, the oftener he
read Mr. Gammon's letter, the stronger became his convictions. 'Twas
undoubtedly rather a large inference from small premises; but it secured
him unspeakable happiness, _for a time_, at a possible cost of future
disappointment and misery, which he did not pause to consider. The fact
is that logic (according to Dr. Watts, but not according to Dr.
Whateley, _the right use of reason_) is not a practical art. No one
regards it in actual life; observe, therefore, folks on all hands
constantly acting like Tittlebat Titmouse in the case before us. His
_conclusion_ was--that he had become the certain master of ten thousand
a-year; his _premises_ were--what the reader has seen. I do not,
however, mean to say, that if the reader be a youth hot from Oxford, he
may not be able to prove, by a very refined and ingenious argument, that
Titmouse was, in what he did above, a fine natural logician; for I
recollect that some great philosopher hath demonstrated, by a famous
argument, that there is NOTHING ANYWHERE: and no one that I have heard
of, hath ever been able to prove the contrary.
By six o'clock the next morning, Titmouse had, with his own hand,
dropped his answer into the letter-box upon the door of Mr. Gammon's
chambers in Thavies' Inn; in which answer he had, with numerous
expressions of profound respect and gratitude, accepted Mr. Gammon's
polite invitation. A very happy man felt Titmouse as he returned to
Oxford Street; entering Messrs. Tag-rag's premises with alacrity, just
as they were being opened, and volunteering his assistance in numerous
things beyond his usual province, with singular briskness and energy; as
if conscious that by doing so he was greatly gratifying Messrs. Quirk,
Gammon, and Snap, whose wishes upon the subject he knew. He displayed
such unwonted cheerfulness and patient good-nature throughout the day,
that one of his companions, a serious youth, in a white neckerchief,
black clothes, and with a blessed countenance--the only professing pious
person in the establishment--took an occasion to ask him, in a
mysterious whisper, "whether he had not got _converted_:" and whether he
would, at six o'clock in the morning, accompany the speaker to a room in
the neighborhood, where he (the youth aforesaid) was going to conduct an
exhortation and prayer meeting! Titmouse refused--but not without a few
qualms; for luck certainly seemed to be smiling on him, and he felt that
he ought to be grateful for it; but then, he at length reflected, the
proper place for that sort of thing would be a regular _church_--to
which he accordingly resolved to go. This change of manners Tag-rag,
however, looked upon as assumed only to affront _him_; seeing nothing
but impertinence and defiance in all that Titmouse did--as if the nearer
Titmouse got to the end of his bondage--_i. e._ the 10th of August--the
lighter-hearted he grew! Titmouse resolved religiously to keep his own
counsel; to avoid even--at all events for the present--communicating
with Huckaback.
On the ensuing Sunday he rose very early, and took nearly twice as long
a time as usual to dress--by reason of his often falling into many
delicious and momentarily intoxicating reveries. By eleven o'clock he
might have been seen entering the gallery of St. Andrew's Church,
Holborn; where he considered that doubtless Mr. Gammon, who lived in the
neighborhood, might have a seat. He asked three or four pew-openers,
both below and above stairs, if they knew which was Mr. Gammon's
pew--Mr. Gammon of Thavies' Inn; not dreaming of presumptuously going to
the pew, but of sitting in some place which commanded a view of it. Mr.
Gammon, I need hardly say, was quite unknown there--no one had ever
heard of such a person; nevertheless Titmouse, (albeit a little galled
at being, in spite of his elegant appearance, slipped into a back seat
in the gallery,) remained to the close of the service--but his thoughts
wandered grievously the whole time. Having quitted the church in a
buoyant humor, he sauntered in the direction of Hyde Park. How soon
might he become, instead of a mere spectator as heretofore, a partaker
in its glories! The dawn of the day of fortune was on his long-benighted
soul; and he could hardly subdue his excited feelings. Having eaten
nothing but a couple of biscuits during the day, as the clock struck
seven he made his punctual appearance at Mr. Gammon's, with a pair of
span-new white kid gloves on; and somewhat flurried, was speedily
ushered, by a comfortable-looking elderly female servant, into Mr.
Gammon's room. Mr. Titmouse was dressed just as he had been when first
presented to the reader, sallying forth into Oxford Street. Mr. Gammon,
who was sitting reading the _Sunday Flash_ at a table on which stood a
couple of decanters, several wine-glasses, and one or two dishes of
fruit, rose and received his distinguished visitor with the most
delightful affability.
"I am most happy, Mr. Titmouse, to see you in this friendly way," said
he, shaking him cordially by the hand.
"Oh, don't name it, sir!" quoth Titmouse, rather indistinctly, and
hastily running his hand through his hair.
"I've nothing, you see, to offer you but a little fruit and a glass of
fair port or sherry. You see I am a very quiet man on Sundays!"
"Particular fond of _them_, sir," replied Titmouse, endeavoring to clear
his throat; for in spite of a strong effort to appear at his ease, he
was unsuccessful; so that, when Gammon's keen eye glanced at the
bedizened figure of his guest, a bitter smile passed over his face,
without having been observed by Titmouse. "_This_," thought he, as his
eye passed from the ring glittering on the little finger of the right
hand, to the studs and breast-pin in the shirt-front, and thence to the
guard-chain glaring entirely outside a damson-colored satin waistcoat,
and the spotless white glove which yet glistened on the left hand--"This
is the writer of the dismal epistle of the other day, announcing his
desperation and destitution!"
"Your health, Mr. Titmouse!--help yourself!" said Mr. Gammon, in a
cheerful and cordial tone; Titmouse pouring out a glass only
three-quarters full, raised it to his lips with a slightly tremulous
hand, and returned Mr. Gammon's salutation. When had Titmouse tasted a
glass of wine before? a reflection occurring not only to himself, but
also to Gammon, to whom it was a circumstance that might be serviceable.
"You see, Mr. Titmouse, mine's only a small bachelor's establishment,
and I cannot put my old servant out of the way by having my friends to
dinner"--[quite forgetting that the day before he had entertained at
least six friends, including Mr. Frankpledge--but, the idea of going
through a dinner _with Mr. Titmouse_!]
And now, O inexperienced Titmouse! unacquainted with the potent
qualities of wine, I warn you to be cautious how you drink many glasses,
for you cannot calculate the effect which they will have upon you; and,
indeed, methinks that with this man you have a game to play which will
not admit of much wine being drunk. Be you, therefore, on your guard;
for wine is like a strong serpent, who will creep unperceivedly into
your empty head, and coil himself up therein, until at length he begins
to move about--and all things are as nought to you!
"Oh, sir, 'pon my honor, beg you won't name it--all one to me,
sir!--Beautiful wine this, sir."
"Pretty fair, I think--certainly rather old;--but what fruit will you
take--raspberries or cherries?"
"Why--a--I've so lately dined," replied Titmouse, alluding to the brace
of biscuits on which he had luxuriated several hours before. He would
have preferred the cherries, but did not feel quite at his ease how to
dispose of the _stones_ nicely--gracefully--so he took a very few
raspberries upon his plate, and ate them slowly, and with a modest and
timid air.
"Well, Mr. Titmouse," commenced Gammon, with an air of concern, "I was
really much distressed by your last letter!"
"Uncommon glad to hear it, sir--knew you would, sir--you're so
kind-hearted;--all quite true, sir!"
"I had no idea that you were reduced to such straits," said Gammon, in a
sympathizing tone, but settling his eye involuntarily on the ring of
Titmouse.
"Quite dreadful, sir--'pon my soul, dreadful; and such usage at Mr.
Tag-rag's!"
"But you mustn't think of going abroad--away from all your friends, Mr.
Titmouse."
"_Abroad_, sir!" interrupted Titmouse, with anxious but subdued
eagerness; "never thought of such a thing!"
"Oh! I--I thought"----
"There isn't a word of truth in it, sir; and if you've heard so, it must
have been from that oudacious fellow that called on you--he's _such_ a
liar--if you knew him as well as I do, sir!" said Titmouse, with a
confident air, quite losing sight of his piteous letter to Messrs.
Quirk, Gammon, and Snap--"No, sir--shall stay, and stick to friends that
stick to me."
"Take another glass of wine, Mr. Titmouse," interrupted Gammon,
cordially, and Titmouse obeyed him; but while he was pouring it out, a
sudden recollection of his letter flashing across his mind, satisfied
him that he stood detected in a flat lie before Mr. Gammon, and he
blushed scarlet.
"Do you like the sherry?" inquired Gammon, perfectly aware of what was
passing through the little mind of his guest, and wishing to divert his
thoughts. Titmouse answered in the affirmative: and proceeded to pour
forth such a number of apologies for his own behavior at Saffron Hill,
and that of Huckaback on the subsequent occasion, as Gammon found it
difficult to stop, over and over again assuring him that all had been
entirely forgiven and even forgotten. When Titmouse came to the
remittance of the five pounds----
"Don't mention it, my dear sir," interrupted Gammon, very blandly; "it
gave me, I assure you, far greater satisfaction to send it, than you to
receive it. I hope it has a little relieved you?"
"I think so, sir! I was, 'pon my life, on my very last legs."
"When things come to the worst, they often mend, Mr. Titmouse! I told
Mr. Quirk (who, to do him justice, came at last into my views) that,
however premature, and perhaps imprudent it might be in us to go so far,
I could not help relieving your present necessities, even out of my own
resources."
[Oh, Gammon, Gammon!]
"How very uncommon kind of you, sir!" exclaimed Titmouse.
"Not in the least, my dear sir--(pray fill another glass, Mr. Titmouse!)
You see Mr. Quirk is quite a man of business--and our profession too
often affords instances of persons whose hearts contract as their purses
expand, Mr. Titmouse--ha! ha! Indeed, those who make their money as hard
as Mr. Quirk, are apt to be slow at parting with it, and _very_
suspicious!"
"Well, I hope no offence, sir; but really I thought as much, directly I
saw that old gent."
"Ah--but _now_ he is embarked, heart and soul, in the affair."
"No! _Is_ he really, sir?" inquired Titmouse, eagerly.
"That is," replied Gammon, quickly, "so long as I am at his elbow,
urging him on--for he wants some one who--hem! In fact, my dear sir,
ever since I had the good fortune to make the discovery, which happily
brought us acquainted with each other, Mr. Titmouse," [it was old Quirk,
as the reader will by and by find, who had made the discovery, and
Gammon had for a long time thrown cold water on it,] "I have been doing
all I could with him, and I trust I may say, have at last got the thing
into shape."
"I'll take my oath, sir," said Titmouse, excitedly, "I never was so much
struck with any one in all my born days as I was with you, sir, when you
first came to my emp--to Mr. Tag-rag's, sir--Lord, sir, how uncommon
sharp you seemed!" Gammon smiled with a deprecating air, and sipped his
wine in silence; but there was great sweetness in the expression of his
countenance. Poor Titmouse's doubts, hopes, and fears, were rapidly
being sublimed into a _reverence_ for Gammon....
"I certainly quite agree with Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, presently, "that
the difficulties in our way are of the most serious description. To
speak, for an instant only, of the risks we ourselves incur
personally--would you believe it, my dear Mr. Titmouse?--in such a
disgraceful state are our laws, that we can't gratify our feelings by
taking up your cause, without rendering ourselves liable to imprisonment
for Heaven knows how long, and a fine that would be ruin itself, if we
should be found out!"
Titmouse continued silent, his wine-glass in his hand arrested in its
way to his mouth; which, together with his eyes, was opened to its
widest extent, as he stared with a kind of terror upon Mr.
Gammon.--"_Are_ we, then, unreasonable, my dear sir, in entreating you
to be cautious--nay, in insisting on your compliance with our wishes, in
all that we shall deem prudent and necessary, when not only your own
best interests, but our characters, liberties, and fortunes are staked
on the issue of this great enterprise? I am sure," continued Gammon,
with great emotion, "you will feel for us, Mr. Titmouse. I see you do!"
Gammon put his hand over his eyes, in order, apparently, to conceal his
emotion, but really to observe what effect he had produced upon
Titmouse. The conjoint influence of Gammon's wine and eloquence not a
little agitated Titmouse, in whose eyes stood tears.
"I'll do anything--anything, sir," Titmouse almost sobbed.
"Oh! all we wish is to be allowed to serve you effectually; and to
enable us to do that"----
"Tell me to get into a soot-bag, and lie hid in a coal-hole, and see if
I won't do it!"
"What! a coal-hole? Would you, then, even stop at Tag-rag and Co.'s?"
"Ye-e-e-e-s, sir--hem! hem! That is, till the _tenth_ of next month,
when my time's up."
"Ah!--ay!--oh, I understand! Another glass, Mr. Titmouse," said Gammon,
pouring himself out some more wine; and observing, while Titmouse
followed his example, that there was an unsteadiness in his motions of a
very different description from that which he had exhibited at the
commencement of the evening--at the same time wondering what the deuce
they should do with him after the _tenth_ of August.
"You see, _I_ have the utmost confidence in you, and had so from the
first happy moment when we met; but Mr. Quirk is rather sus--In short to
prevent misunderstanding (as he says,) Mr. Quirk is anxious that you
should give a _written_ promise." (Titmouse looked eagerly about for
writing materials.) "No, not now, but in a day or two's time. I confess,
my dear Mr. Titmouse, if _I_ might have decided on the matter, I should
have been satisfied with your verbal promise; but I must say, Mr.
Quirk's gray hairs seem to have made him quite--eh! you understand?
Don't you think so, Mr. Titmouse?"
"To be sure! 'pon my honor, Mr. Gammon!" replied Titmouse; not very
distinctly understanding, however, what he was so energetically
assenting to.
"I dare say you wonder why we wish you to stop a few months longer at
your present hiding-place at Tag-rag's?"
"_Can't_, possibly!--after the tenth of next month, sir," replied
Titmouse, eagerly.
"But as soon as we begin to fire off our guns against the enemy--Lord,
my dear sir, if they could only find out, you know, where to get at
you--you would never live to enjoy your ten thousand a-year! They'd
either poison or kidnap you--get you out of the way, unless you keep out
of _their_ way: and if you will but consent to keep snug at Tag-rag's
for a while, who'd suspect where you was? We could easily arrange with
your friend Tag-rag that you should"----
"My stars! I'd give something to hear you tell Tag-rag--why, I wonder
what he'll do!"
"Make you very comfortable, and let you have your own way in
everything--that you may rely upon!"
"Go to the play, for instance, whenever I want, and do all that sort of
thing?"
"Nay, try! anything! And as for money, I've persuaded Mr. Quirk to
consent to our advancing you a certain sum per week, from the present
time, while the cause is going on,"--(Titmouse's heart began to beat
fast,)--"in order to place you above absolute inconvenience; and when
you consider the awful sums we shall have to disburse--cash out of
pocket--(the tongues of counsel, you know, are set on gold springs, and
only gold keys open their lips!)--for court-fees, and a thousand other
indispensable matters, I should candidly say that four thousand pounds
of hard cash out of pocket, advanced by our firm in your case, would be
the very lowest." (Titmouse stared at him with an expression of stupid
wonder.) "Yes--four thousand pounds, Mr. Titmouse, at the very
least--the _very_ least." Again he paused, keenly scrutinizing
Titmouse's features by the light of the candles, which just then were
brought in. "You seem surprised, Mr. Titmouse."
"Why--why--where's all the money to come from, sir?" exclaimed Titmouse,
aghast.
"Ah! that is indeed a fearful question,"--replied Gammon, with a very
serious air; "but at my request, our firm has agreed to make the
necessary advances; and also (for _I_ could not bear the sight of your
distress, Mr. Titmouse!) to supply your necessities liberally in the
mean time, as I was saying."
"Won't you take another glass of wine, Mr. Gammon?" suddenly inquired
Titmouse, with a confident air.
"With all my heart, Mr. Titmouse! I'm delighted that you approve of it.
I paid enough for it, I can warrant you."
"Cuss me if ever I tasted such wine! Uncommon! Come--no heel-taps, Mr.
Gammon--here goes--let's drink--success to the affair!"
"With all my heart, my dear sir--with all my heart. Success to the
thing--amen!" and Gammon drained his glass; so did Titmouse. "Ah! Mr.
Titmouse, you'll soon have wine enough to float a frigate--and indeed
what not--with ten thousand a-year?"
"And all the back-rents, you know--ha, ha!"
"Yes--to be sure!--the back-rents! The sweetest estate that is to be
found in all Yorkshire! Gracious, Mr. Titmouse!" continued Gammon, with
an excited air--"What may you not do? Go where you like--do what you
like--get into Parliament--marry some lovely woman of high rank!"
"Lord, Mr. Gammon!--you a'n't dreaming? Nor I? But now, in course, _you_
must be paid handsome for your trouble!--Only say how much--Name your
sum! What you please! You only get me all you've said--and I'll"----
"For my part, I wish to rely entirely on your mere word of honor.
Between gentlemen, you know--my dear sir"----
"You only try me, sir."
"But you see, Mr. Quirk's getting old, and naturally is anxious to
provide for those whom he will leave behind him--and so Mr. Snap agreed
with him--two to one against me, Mr. Titmouse--of course they carried
the day--two to one."
"Never mind that!--only say the figure, sir!" cried Titmouse, eagerly.
"A single year's income, only--ten thousand pounds will hardly"----
"Ten thousand pounds! By jingo, but that _is_ a slice out of the cake!
Oh, Lord!" quoth Titmouse, looking aghast.
"A mere crumb, my dear sir!--a trifle! Why, _we_ are going to give _you_
that sum at least every year--and indeed it was suggested to our firm,
that unless you gave us at least a sum of twenty-five thousand
pounds--in fact, we were recommended to look out for some other heir."
"Oh dear! oh Mr. Gammon," cried Titmouse, hastily--"it's not to be
thought of, sir."
"So I said; and as for throwing it up--to be sure we shall have
ourselves to borrow large sums to carry on the war--and unless we have
your bond for at least ten thousand pounds, we cannot raise a farthing."
"Well--curse me, if you sha'n't do what you like!--Give me your hand,
and do what you like, Mr. Gammon!"
"Thank you, Mr. Titmouse! How I like a glass of wine with a friend in
this quiet way!--you'll always find me rejoiced to show"----
"Your hand! By George--Didn't I take a liking to you from the first? But
to speak my mind a bit--as for Mr. Quirk--excuse me--but he's a
cur--cur--cur--mudg--mudg--mudg--eon--hem!"
"Hope you've not been so imprudent, my dear Titmouse," threw in Mr.
Gammon, rather anxiously, "as to borrow money--eh?"
"Devil knows, and devil cares! No stamp, I know--bang up to the
mark"--here he winked an eye, and put his finger to his nose--"wide
awake--Huck--uck--uck--uck! how his name sti--sticks. Your hand, Mr.
Gammon--here--this, this way--what are you bobbing your head about for?
Ah, ha!--The floor--'pon my life!--how funny--it's like being at
sea--up, down--oh dear!"--he clapped his hand to his head.
[Pythagoras has finely observed, that a man is not to be considered dead
drunk till he lies on the floor, and stretches out his arms and legs to
prevent his going lower.]
See-saw, see-saw, up and down, up and down, went everything about him.
Now he felt sinking through the floor, then gently rising towards the
ceiling. Mr. Gammon seemed getting into a mist, and waving about the
candles in it. Mr. Titmouse's head swam; his chair seemed to be resting
on the waves of the sea.
"I'm afraid the room's rather close, Mr. Titmouse," hastily observed
Gammon, perceiving from Titmouse's sudden paleness and silence, but too
evident symptoms that his powerful intellect was for a while paralyzed.
Gammon started to the window and opened it. Paler, however, and paler
became Titmouse. Gammon's game was up much sooner than he had calculated
on.
"Mrs. Brown! Mrs. Brown!" he called out, opening the sitting-room
door--"order a coach instantly, and tell Tomkins"--that was the inn
porter--"to get his son ready to go home with this gentleman--he's not
very well." He was quickly obeyed. It was, in truth, "_all up_" with
Titmouse--at least for a while.
As soon as Gammon had thus got rid of his distinguished guest, he
ordered the table to be cleared of the glasses, and tea to be ready
within half an hour. He then walked out to enjoy the cool evening; on
returning, sat pleasantly sipping his tea, now and then dipping into
the edifying columns of the _Sunday Flash_, but oftener ruminating upon
his recent conversation with Titmouse, and speculating upon certain
possible results to himself personally; and a little after eleven
o'clock, that good man, at peace with all the world--calm and
serene--retired to repose. He had that night rather a singular dream; it
was of a snake encircling a monkey, as if in gentle and playful embrace.
Suddenly tightening its folds, a crackling sound was heard; the writhing
coils were then slowly unwound--and, with a shudder, he beheld the
monster licking over the motionless figure, till it was covered with a
viscid slime. Then the serpent began to devour his prey; and, when
gorged and helpless, behold, it was immediately fallen upon by two other
snakes. To his disturbed fancy, there was a dim resemblance between
their heads and those of Quirk and Snap--they all three became
intertwisted together--and writhed and struggled till they fell over the
edge of a dark and frightful precipice--he woke--thank God! it was only
a dream.