Titmouse slunk up-stairs to his room in a sad state of depression, and
spent the next hour in rubbing into his hair the Damascus cream. He
rubbed till he could hardly hold his arms up any longer, from sheer
fatigue. Having risen at length to mark, from the glass, the progress he
had made, he found that the only result of his persevering exertions had
been to give a greasy shining appearance to the hair, which remained
green as ever. With a half-uttered groan he sank down upon a chair, and
fell into a sort of abstraction, which was interrupted by a sharp knock
at his door. Titmouse started up, trembled, and stood for a moment or
two irresolute, glancing fearfully at the glass; and then, opening the
door, let in--Mr. Gammon, who started back a pace or two, as if he had
been shot, on catching sight of the strange figure of Titmouse. It was
useless for Gammon to try to check his laughter; so, leaning against the
door-post, he yielded to the impulse, and laughed without intermission
for nearly a couple of minutes. Titmouse felt desperately angry, but
feared to show it; and the timid, rueful, lackadaisical air with which
he regarded the dreaded Mr. Gammon, only prolonged and aggravated the
agonies of that gentleman. When at length he had a little recovered
himself, holding his left hand to his side, with an exhausted air, he
entered the little apartment, and asked Titmouse what in the name of
heaven he had been doing to himself: "_Without this_" (in the absurd
slang of the lawyers) that he suspected most vehemently, all the while,
what Titmouse had been about; but he wished to hear Titmouse's own
account of the matter!--Titmouse, not daring to hesitate,
complied--Gammon listening in an agony of suppressed laughter. He looked
as little at Titmouse as he could, and was growing a trifle more sedate,
when Titmouse, in a truly lamentable tone, inquired, "What's the good,
Mr. Gammon, of ten thousand a-year with such a horrid head of hair as
this?" On hearing which Gammon jumped off his chair, started to the
window, and laughed for one or two minutes without ceasing. This was too
much for Titmouse, who presently cried aloud in a lamentable manner; and
Gammon, suddenly ceasing his laughter, turned round and apologized in
the most earnest manner; after which he uttered an abundance of sympathy
for the sufferings which "he deplored being unable to alleviate." He
even restrained himself when Titmouse again and again asked if he could
not "have the law" of the man who had so imposed on him. Gammon diverted
the thoughts of his suffering client, by taking from his pocket some
very imposing packages of paper, tied round with red tape. From time to
time, however, he almost split his nose with efforts to restrain his
laughter, on catching a fresh glimpse of poor Titmouse's emerald hair.
Mr. Gammon was a man of business, however; and in the midst of all this
distracting excitement, contrived to get Titmouse's signature to sundry
papers of no little consequence; among others, first, to a bond
conditioned for the payment of £500; secondly, another for
£10,000;--both to Caleb Quirk, gentleman; and lastly, an agreement (of
which he gave Titmouse _an alleged_ copy) by which Titmouse, in
consideration of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap using their best
exertions to put him in possession of the estate, &c. &c., bound himself
to conform to their wishes in everything, on pain of their instantly
throwing up the whole affair, looking out for another heir at law (!)
and issuing execution forthwith against Titmouse for all expenses
incurred under his retainer. I said that Gammon gave his confiding
client an _alleged_ copy of this agreement;--it was not a real copy, for
certain stipulations appeared in each, which were not intended to appear
_in_ the other, for reasons which were perfectly satisfactory
to--Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. When Gammon had got to this point,
he thought it the fitting opportunity for producing a second five-pound
note. He did so, and put Titmouse thereby into an ecstasy, which pushed
out of his head for a while all recollection of what had happened to the
outside of it. He had at that moment nearly eleven pounds in hard cash.
Gammon easily obtained from him an account of his little money
transactions with Huckaback--of which, however, all he could tell
was--that for ten shillings down, he had given a written engagement to
pay fifty pounds on getting the estate. Of this Gammon made a careful
memorandum, explaining to Titmouse the atrocious villany of
Huckaback--and, in short, that if he (Titmouse) did not look very
sharply about him, he would be robbed right and left; so that it was of
the utmost consequence to him early to learn how to distinguish between
false and true friends. Gammon went on to assure him that the instrument
which he had given to Huckaback, was probably, in point of law, not
worth a farthing, on the ground of its being both fraudulent and
usurious; and intimated something, which Titmouse did not very
distinctly comprehend, about the efficacy of a bill in equity for a
_discovery_; which--merely to expose villany--at a very insignificant
expense, (not exceeding £100,) would enable the plaintiff in equity to
put the defendant in equity, (_i. e._ Huckaback,) in the way of
declaring, on his solemn oath, that he had advanced the full sum of £50;
and having obtained this important and satisfactory result, Titmouse
would have the opportunity of disproving the statement of
Huckaback--_if he could_: which of course he could not. By this process,
however, a little profitable employment would have been afforded to a
certain distinguished firm in Saffron Hill--and that was _something_--to
Gammon.
"But, by the way, talking of money," said Titmouse, suddenly, "you can't
think how surprising handsome Mr. Tag-rag has behaved to me!"
"Indeed, my dear sir!" exclaimed Gammon, with real curiosity, "what has
he done?"
"Advanced to me five pounds--all of his own head!"
"Are you serious, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired Gammon.
Titmouse produced the change which he had obtained for Tag-rag's
five-pound note, minus only the prices of the Cyanochaitanthropopoion,
the Damascus cream, and the eyeglass. Gammon merely stroked his chin in
a thoughtful manner. So occupied, indeed, was he with his reflections,
that though his eye was fixed on the ludicrous figure of Titmouse, which
so shortly before had occasioned him such paroxysms of laughter, he did
not feel the least inclination even to a smile. Tag-rag advance Titmouse
five pounds! A-hem!--Throwing as much smiling indifference into his
manner as was possible, he asked Titmouse the particulars of so strange
a transaction. Titmouse answered (how truly the reader can judge) that
Mr. Tag-rag had, in the very handsomest way, volunteered the loan of
five pounds; and moreover offered him any further sum he might require!
"What a charming change, Mr. Titmouse!" exclaimed Gammon, with a
watchful eye and anxious smile.
"Most delightful, 'pon my soul!"
"Rather sudden, too!--eh?--Mr. Titmouse?"
"Why--no--no; I should say, 'pon my life, certainly not. The fact is,
we've long misunderstood each other. He's had an uncommon good opinion
of me all the while--people _have_ tried to set him against me; but it's
no use, he's found them out--he told me so! And he's not only said, but
_done_ the handsome thing! He's turned up, by Jove, a trump all of a
sudden--though it's long looked an ugly card, to be sure!"
"Ha, ha, ha!--very!--how curious!" exclaimed Mr. Gammon, mechanically;
revolving several important matters in his mind.
"I'm going, too, to dine at Satin Lodge, Mr. Tag-rag's country house,
next Sunday."
"Indeed! It will be quite a change for you, Mr. Titmouse!"
"Yes, it will, by Jove; and--a--a--what's more--there's--hem!--you
understand?"
"Go on, I beg, my dear Mr. Titmouse"----
"There's a lady in the case--not that she's _said_ anything; but a nod's
as good as a wink to a blind horse--eh? Mr. Gammon?"
"I should think so--Miss Tag-rag will have money, of course?"
"You've hit it! Lots! But I've not made up my mind."
[I'd better undeceive this poor devil at once, as to this sordid wretch
Tag-rag, (thought Gammon,) otherwise the cunning old rogue may get a
very mischievous hold upon him! And a _lady in the case_! The old scamp
has a daughter! Whew! this will never do! The sooner I enlighten my
young friend the better--though at a little risk.]
"It's very important to be able to tell who are real and who false
friends, as I was saying just now, my dear Titmouse," said Gammon,
seriously.
"I think so. Now look for instance, there's that fellow Huckaback. I
should say _he_"----
"Pho! pho! my dear sir, a mere beetle--he's not worth thinking of, one
way or the other. But can't you guess another sham friend, who has
changed so suddenly?"
"Do you mean Mr. Tag-rag--eh?"
"I mention no names; but it's rather odd, that when I am speaking of
hollow-hearted friends, _you_ should at once name Mr. Tag-rag--ah, ha,
Mr. Titmouse!"
"The proof of the pudding--handsome is that handsome does; and I've got
£5 of his money, at any rate."
"Of course he took no _security_ for such a trifle, between such _very_
close friends?"
"Oh--why--now you mention it--But 'twas only a line--one line--a mere
_mem._ betwixt two gents--and I noticed it had no stamp!"
"I guessed as much, my dear sir," interrupted Gammon, calmly, with a
significant smile--"Tag-rag and Huckaback are quite on a par--a brace of
worthies--ah, ha, ha! My dear Titmouse, you are too honest and
confiding!"
"What keen eyes you lawyers have to be sure! Well--I never"--said
Titmouse, looking very grave--for he was evidently somewhat staggered.
"I--I--must say," he presently added, looking gratefully at Gammon, "I
think I _do_ now know of a true friend, that sent me two five-pound
notes, and never asked for any security."
"My dear sir, you really pain me by alluding to such a matter!"
[Oh, Gammon, is not this too bad? What are the papers which you know are
now in your pocket, signed only this very evening by Titmouse?]
"You are not a match for Tag-rag, Mr. Titmouse; because he was _made_
for a tradesman--you are not. Do you think he would have parted with his
£5 but for value received? Oh, Tag-rag! Tag-rag!"
"I--I really begin to think, Mr. Gammon--'pon my soul, I do think you're
right."
"Think!--why--for a man of your acuteness--how could he imagine you
could forget the long course of insult and tyranny which you have
endured under him: that he should change all of a sudden--just now,
when"----
"Ay, by Jove! just when I'm coming into my property," interrupted
Titmouse, quickly.
"To be sure--to be sure! just now, I say, to make this sudden change!
Bah! bah!"
"I hate Tag-rag, and always did. Now he's trying to take me in, just as
he does everybody; but I've found him out; I won't lay out a penny with
him!"
"Would you, do you think, ever have seen the inside of Satin Lodge, if
you hadn't"----
"Why, I don't know; I really think--hem!"
"_Would_ you, my dear sir?--But now a scheme occurs to me--a very
amusing idea indeed! Ah, ha, ha!--Shall I tell you a way of proving to
his own face how insincere and interested he is towards you? Go to
dinner by all means, eat his good things, hear all that the whole set of
them have to say, and just before you go, (it will require you to have
your wits about you,) pretend, with a long face, that our affair is all
a bottle of smoke: say that Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap have told
you the day before that they had made a horrid mistake, and you were the
wrong man"----
"'Pon my life, I--I--really," stammered Titmouse "daren't--I couldn't--I
couldn't keep it up--he'd half kill me. Besides, there will be Miss
Tag-rag--it would be the death of her, I know."
"Miss Tag-rag! Gracious Heavens! What on earth can you have to do with
_her_? _You_--why, if you really succeed in getting this fine property,
she might make a very suitable wife for one of your grooms--ah,
ha!--But for _you_--absurd!"
"Ah! I don't know--she may be a devilish fine girl, and the old fellow
will have a tolerable penny to leave her--and a bird in the hand--eh?
Besides, I know what she's all along thought--hem!--but that doesn't
signify."
"Pho! pho! Ridiculous! Ha, ha, ha! Fancy Miss Tag-rag Mrs. Titmouse!
Your eldest son--ah, ha, ha! Tag-rag Titmouse, Esq. Delightful! Your
honored father a draper in Oxford Street!" All this might be very
clever, but it did not seem to _tell_ upon Titmouse, whose little heart
had been reached by a cunning hint of Tag-rag's concerning his
daughter's flattering estimate of Titmouse's personal appearance. The
reason why Gammon attacked so seriously a matter which appeared so
chimerical and preposterous, was this--that according to his present
plan, Titmouse was to remain for some considerable while at Tag-rag's,
and might, with his utter weakness of character, be worked upon by
Tag-rag and his daughter, and get inveigled into an engagement which
might be productive hereafter of no little embarrassment. Gammon
succeeded, however, at length, in obtaining Titmouse's promise to adopt
his suggestion, and thereby discover the true nature of the feelings
entertained towards him at Satin Lodge. He shook Titmouse energetically
by the hand, and left him perfectly certain that if there was one person
in the world worthy of his esteem, and even reverence, that person was
OILY GAMMON, ESQ.
As he bent his steps towards Saffron Hill, he reflected rather anxiously
on several matters which had occurred to him during the interview which
I have just described. On reaching the office, he was presently closeted
with Mr. Quirk, to whom, first and foremost, he exhibited and delivered
the documents to which he had obtained Titmouse's signature, and which,
the reader will allow me to assure him, were of a somewhat different
texture from a certain legal instrument or security which I laid before
him some little time ago.
"Now, Gammon," said the old gentleman, as soon as he had locked up in
his safe the above-mentioned documents--"Now, Gammon, I think we may be
up and at 'em; load our guns, and blaze away," and he rubbed his hands.
"Perhaps so, Mr. Quirk," replied Gammon; "but we must, for no earthly
consideration, be premature in our operations! Let me, by the way, tell
you one or two little matters that have just happened to
Titmouse!"--Then he told Mr. Quirk of the effects which had followed the
use of the potent Cyanochaitanthropopoion, at which old Quirk almost
laughed himself into fits. When, however, Gammon, with a serious air,
mentioned the name of Miss Tag-rag, and his grave suspicions concerning
her, Quirk bounced up out of his chair, almost startling Gammon out of
_his_. If Mr. Quirk had just been told that his banker had broken, he
could scarce have shown more emotion.
The fact was, that he, too, had a DAUGHTER--an only child--Miss
Quirk--whom he had destined to become Mrs. Titmouse.
"A designing old villain!" he exclaimed at length, and Gammon agreed
with him; but strange to say, with all his acuteness, never adverted to
the real cause of Quirk's sudden and vehement exclamation. When Gammon
told him of the manner in which he had opened Titmouse's eyes to the
knavery of Tag-rag, and the expedient he had suggested for its complete
demonstration to Titmouse, Quirk could have worshipped Gammon, and could
not help rising and shaking him very energetically by the hand, much to
his astonishment. After a long consultation, they determined to look
out fresh lodgings for Titmouse, and remove him presently altogether
from the company and influence of Tag-rag. Some time after they had
parted, Mr. Quirk came with an eager air into Mr. Gammon's room, with a
most important suggestion; viz. whether it would not be possible for
them to get Tag-rag to _become a surety_ to them, by and by, on behalf
of Titmouse? Gammon was delighted!--He heartily commended Mr. Quirk's
sagacity, and promised to turn it about in his thoughts very carefully.
Not having been let entirely into Quirk's policy, (of which the reader
has, however, just had a glimpse,) Mr. Gammon did not see the
difficulties which kept Quirk awake almost all that night; viz. how to
protect Titmouse from the machinations of Tag-rag and his daughter, and
yet keep Tag-rag sufficiently interested in, and intimate with,
Titmouse, to entertain, by and by, the idea of becoming surety for him
to them, the said Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and--withal--how to
manage Titmouse all the while, so as to forward their objects, and also
that of turning his attention towards Miss Quirk; all this formed really
rather a difficult problem!--Quirk looked down on Tag-rag with honest
indignation, as a mean and mercenary fellow, whose unprincipled schemes,
thank Heaven! he already saw through, and from which he resolved to
rescue his innocent and confiding client, who was made for better
things--_to wit, Miss Quirk_.
When Titmouse rose the next morning, (Saturday,) behold--he found his
hair had become of a variously shaded purple or violet color!
Astonishment and apprehension by turns possessed him, as he stared into
the glass, at this unlooked-for change of color; and hastily dressing
himself, after swallowing a very slight breakfast, off he went once more
to the scientific establishment in Bond Street, to which he had been
indebted for his recent delightful experiences. The distinguished
inventor and proprietor of the Cyanochaitanthropopoion was behind the
counter as usual--calm and confident as ever.
"Ah! I see--as I said! as I said!" quoth he, with a sort of glee in his
manner. "Isn't it?--coming round quicker than usual--Really, I'm selling
more of the article than I can possibly make."
"Well,"--at length said Titmouse, as soon as he had recovered from the
surprise occasioned by the sudden volubility with which he had been
assailed on entering--"then _is_ it really going on tolerable well?"
taking off his hat, and looking anxiously into a glass that hung close
by.
"_Tolerable_ well, my dear sir! Delightful! Perfect! Couldn't be better!
If you'd studied the thing, you'd know, sir, that purple is the middle
color between green and black. Indeed, black's only purple and green
mixed, which explains the whole thing!" Titmouse listened with infinite
satisfaction to this unanswerable and truly philosophical account of the
matter.
"Remember, sir--my hair is to come like yours--eh? you recollect, sir?
Honor--that was the bargain, you know!"
"I have very little doubt of it, sir--nay, I am certain of it, knowing
it by experience."
[The scamp had been hired expressly for the purpose of lying thus in
support of the Cyanochaitanthropopoion; his own hair being a _natural_
black.]
"I'm going to a grand dinner to-morrow, sir," said Titmouse, "with some
devilish great people at the west end of the town--eh? you understand?
will it do by that time? Would give a trifle to get my hair a shade
darker by that time--for--hem!--most lovely gal--eh? you understand the
thing?--devilish anxious, and all that sort of thing, you know!"
"Yes--I do," replied the gentleman of the shop, in a confidential tone;
and opening one of the glass doors behind him, took out a bottle
considerably larger than the first, and handed it to Titmouse. "This,"
said he, "will complete the thing; it combines chemically with the
purple particles, and the result is--generally arrived at in about two
days' time"----
"But it will do _something_ in a night's time--eh!--surely."
"I should think so! But here it is--it is called the TETARAGMENON
ABRACADABRA."
"What a name!" exclaimed Titmouse, with a kind of awe. "'Pon honor, it
almost takes one's breath away"----
"It will do more, sir; it will take your red hair away! By the way, only
the day before yesterday, a lady of high rank, (between ourselves, Lady
Caroline Carrot,) whose red hair always seemed as if it would have set
her bonnet in a blaze--ha, ha!--came here, after two days' use of the
Cyanochaitanthropopoion, and one day's use of this Tetaragmenon
Abracadabra--and asked me if I knew her. Upon my soul I did not, till
she solemnly assured me she was really Lady Caroline!"
"_How_ much is it?" eagerly inquired Titmouse, thrusting his hand into
his pocket, with no little excitement.
"Only nine-and-sixpence."
"Oh, my stars, what a price! Nine-and-six"----
"Ah, but would you have believed it, sir? This extraordinary fluid cost
a great German chemist his whole life to bring to perfection; and it
contains expensive materials from all the four corners of the world!
It's ruined the proprietor long ago!"
"That may be--but really--I've laid out a large figure with you, sir,
this day or two! Couldn't you say eight sh"----
"We never abate, sir; it's not _our_ style of doing business," replied
the gentleman, in a manner that quite overawed poor Titmouse, who at
once bought this, the third abomination; not a little depressed,
however, at the heavy prices which he had paid for the three bottles,
and the uncertainty he felt as to the ultimate issue. That night he was
so well satisfied with the progress which he was making with his hair,
(for, by candle light, it really looked much darker than could have been
expected,) that he resolved--at all events for the present--to leave
well alone; or at the utmost, to try the effects of the Tetaragmenon
Abracadabra only upon his eyebrows and whiskers. Into them he rubbed the
new specific; which, on the bottle being opened, surprised him in two
respects: first, it was perfectly colorless; secondly, it had a most
infernal smell. It was, however, no use hesitating: he had bought and
paid for it; and the papers in which it was folded gave an account of
its success that was really irresistible and unquestionable. Away,
therefore, he rubbed; and when he had finished, got into bed, in humble
hope as to the result, which would be disclosed by the morning's light.
But, alas! would you have believed it? When he looked at himself in the
glass, about six o'clock on the ensuing morning, (at which hour he
awoke,) I protest it is a fact, that his eyebrows and whiskers were as
white as snow; which, combined with the purple color of the hair on his
head, rendered him one of the most astounding objects (in human shape)
the eye of man had ever beheld. There was the wisdom of age seated in
his white eyebrows and whiskers, unspeakable youthful folly in his
features, and a purple crown of WONDER on his head.
Really, it seemed as if the devil were wreaking his spite on Mr.
Titmouse; nay, perhaps it was the devil himself who had served him with
the bottles in Bond Street. Or was it a mere ordinary servant of the
devil--some greedy, impudent, unprincipled speculator, who, desirous of
acting on the approved maxim--_Fiat experimentum in corpore vili_--had
pitched on Titmouse (seeing the sort of person he was) as a godsend,
quite reckless what effect might be produced on his hair, so as the
stuff were paid for, and its effects noted? It might possibly have been
sport to the gentleman of the shop, but it was near proving death to
poor Titmouse, who might possibly have resolved on throwing himself out
of the window, only that he saw it was not big enough for a baby to get
through. He turned aghast at the monstrous object which his little glass
presented to him; and sank down upon the bed with the feeling that he
was now fit for death. As before, Mrs. Squallop made her appearance with
his kettle for breakfast. He was sitting at the table dressed, and with
his arms folded, with a reckless air, not at all caring to conceal the
new and still more frightful change which he had undergone since she saw
him last. Mrs. Squallop stared at him for a second or two in silence;
then, stepping back out of the room, suddenly drew to the door, and
stood outside, laughing vehemently.
"I'll kick you down-stairs!" shouted Titmouse, rushing to the door pale
with fury, and pulling it open.
"Mr.--Mr.--Titmouse, you'll be the death of me--you will--you will!"
gasped Mrs. Squallop, almost black in the face, and the water running
out of the kettle, which she was unconsciously holding aslant. After a
while, however, they got reconciled. Mrs. Squallop had fancied he had
been but rubbing chalk on his eyebrows and whiskers; and seemed
dismayed, indeed, on hearing the true state of the case. He implored her
to send out for a small bottle of ink; but as it was Sunday morning none
could be got;--she knew that no one in the court used ink, and she
teased him to try a little _blacking_! He did--but it was useless!--He
sat for an hour or two, in an ecstasy of grief and rage. What would he
now have given never to have meddled with the hair which Heaven had
thought fit to send him into the world with? Alas, with what mournful
force Mrs. Squallop's words again and again recurred to him! To say that
he ate breakfast would be scarcely correct. He drank a single cup of
cocoa, and ate a small fragment of roll, and then put away his breakfast
things on the window shelf. If he had been in the humor to go to church,
how could he? He would have been turned out as an object involuntarily
exciting everybody to laughter!
Yet, poor soul, in this extremity of misery, he was not utterly
neglected; for he had that morning quite a little levee. First came Mr.
Snap, who, having quite as keen and clear an eye for his own interest as
his senior partners, had early seen how capable was an acquaintance with
Titmouse of being turned to his (Snap's) great advantage. He had come,
therefore, dressed very stylishly, to do a little bit of toadying on the
sly, (on his own exclusive account;) and had brought with him, for the
edification of Titmouse, a copy of that day's _Sunday Flash_, which
contained a long account of a bloody fight between Birmingham Bigbones
and London Littlego, for £500 a-side, (sixty rounds had been fought,
both men killed, and their seconds had bolted to Boulogne.) Poor Snap,
however, though he had come with the best intentions, and the most
anxious wish to evince profound respect for the future master of ten
thousand a-year, was quite taken by storm by the very first glimpse he
got of Titmouse, and could not for a long while recover himself. He had
come to ask Titmouse to dine with him at a tavern in the Strand, where
there was to be capital singing in the evening; and also to accompany
him, on the ensuing morning, to the Old Bailey, to hear "a most
interesting trial" for bigamy, in which Snap was concerned for the
prisoner--a miscreant, who had been married to five living women!! Snap
conceived (and very justly) that it would give Titmouse a striking idea
of his (Snap's) importance, to see him so much, and apparently so
familiarly concerned with well-known counsel. In his own terse and
quaint way, he was explaining to Titmouse the various remedies he had
against the Bond Street impostor, both by indictment and action on the
case, nay, (getting a little, however, beyond his depth,) he assured the
eager Titmouse, that a bill of discovery would lie in equity, to
ascertain what the Tetaragmenon Abracadabra was composed of, with a view
to his preferring an indictment against its owner, when his learned
display was interrupted by a double knock, and--oh, mercy on us!--enter
Mr. Gammon. Whether he or Snap felt more disconcerted, I cannot say; but
Snap _looked_ the most confused and sneaking. Each told the other a lie,
in as easy, good-natured a way as he could assume, concerning the object
of his visit to Titmouse. Thus they were going on, when--another
knock--and, "Is this Mr. Titmouse's?" inquired a voice, which brought a
little color into the face of both Gammon and Snap; for it was
absolutely old Quirk, who bustled breathless into the room, on his first
visit, and seemed completely confounded by the sight of both his
partners. What with this, and the amazing appearance presented by
Titmouse, Mr. Quirk was so overwhelmed that he scarce spoke a syllable.
Each of the three partners felt (in his own way) exquisite
embarrassment. Huckaback, some time afterwards, made his appearance; but
_him_ Titmouse unceremoniously dismissed in a twinkling, in spite of a
vehement remonstrance. Behold, however, presently another arrival--Mr.
Tag-rag!! who had come to announce that his carriage (_i. e._ a queer,
rickety, little one-horse chaise, with a tallow-faced boy in it, in
faded livery) was waiting to convey Mr. Titmouse to Satin Lodge, and
take him a long drive in the country! Each of these four worthies could
have spit in the other's face: first, for _detecting_, and secondly, for
_rivalling_ him in his schemes upon Titmouse. A few minutes after the
arrival of Tag-rag, Gammon, half-choked with disgust, and despising
himself even more than he despised his fellow-visitors, slunk off,
followed almost immediately by Quirk, who was dying to consult him on
this new aspect of affairs which had presented itself. Snap (who ever
since the arrival of Messrs. Quirk and Gammon had felt like an ape on
hot irons) very shortly followed in the footsteps of his partners,
having made no engagement whatever with Titmouse; and thus the
enterprising and determined Tag-rag was left master of the field. He had
in fact come to _do business_, and business he determined to do. As for
Gammon, during the short time he had stayed, how he had endeared himself
to Titmouse, by explaining, not aware that Titmouse had confessed all to
Snap, the singular change in the color of his hair to have been
occasioned simply by the intense mental anxiety through which he had
lately passed! The touching anecdotes he told of sufferers, whose hair a
single night's agony had changed to all the colors of the rainbow!
Though Tag-rag outstayed all his fellow-visitors, in the manner which
has been described, he could not prevail upon Titmouse to accompany him
in his "carriage," for Titmouse pleaded a pressing engagement, (_i. e._
a desperate attempt he purposed making to obtain some _ink_,) but
pledged himself to make his appearance at Satin Lodge at the appointed
hour (half-past three or four o'clock.) Away, therefore, drove Tag-rag,
delighted that Satin Lodge would so soon contain so resplendent a
visitor--indignant at the cringing, sycophantic attentions of Messrs.
Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, against whom he resolved to put Titmouse on his
guard, and infinitely astonished at the extraordinary change which had
taken place in the color of Titmouse's hair. Partly influenced by the
explanation which Gammon had given of the phenomenon, Tag-rag resigned
himself to feelings of simple wonder. Titmouse was doubtless passing
through stages of physical transmogrification, corresponding with the
marvellous change that was taking place in his circumstances; and for
all he (Tag-rag) knew, other and more extraordinary changes were going
on; Titmouse might be growing at the rate of half an inch a-day, and
soon stand before him a man more than six feet high! Considerations such
as these invested Titmouse with intense and overpowering interest in the
estimation of Tag-rag; _how_ could he make enough of him at Satin Lodge
that day? If ever that hardened sinner felt inclined to utter an inward
prayer, it was as he drove home that day--that Heaven would array his
daughter in angel hues to the eyes of Titmouse!
My friend Tittlebat made his appearance at the gate of Satin Lodge, at
about a quarter to four o'clock. Good gracious, how he had dressed
himself out! So as very considerably to exceed his appearance when first
presented to the reader.
Miss Tag-rag had been before her glass ever since the instant of her
return from chapel, up to within ten minutes' time of Titmouse's
arrival. An hour and a half at least had she bestowed on her hair,
disposing it in little corkscrew and somewhat scanty curls, which quite
glistened in bear's grease, hanging on each side of a pair of lean and
sallow cheeks. The color which ought to have distributed itself over her
cheeks, in roseate delicacy, had, two or three years before, thought fit
to collect itself into the tip of her sharp little nose. Her small gray
eyes beamed with the gentle and attractive expression perceptible in her
father's; and her projecting under lip reminded everybody of that
delicate feature in her mother. She was very short, and her figure
rather skinny and angular. She wore her lilac-colored frock; her waist
being pinched in to a degree which made you think of a fit of the colic
when you looked at her--and gave you a dim vision of a coroner's inquest
on a case of death by tight lacing! A long red sash, tied in a most
elaborate bow, gave a very brilliant air to her dress generally. She had
a thin gold chain round her neck, and wore long white gloves; her left
hand holding her pocket-handkerchief, which she had so suffused with
bergamot that it scented the whole room. Mrs. Tag-rag had made herself
very splendid, in a red silk gown and staring head-dress; in fact, she
seemed _on fire_. As for Mr. Tag-rag, whenever he was dressed in his
Sunday clothes, he looked the model of a dissenting minister; witness
his black coat, waistcoat and trousers, and primly tied white
neckerchief, with no shirt-collar visible. For some quarter of an hour
had this interesting trio been standing at their parlor window, in
anxious expectation of Titmouse's arrival; their only amusement being
the numberless dusty stage-coaches driving every five minutes close past
their gate, (which was about ten yards from their house,) at once
enlivening and ruralizing the scene. Oh, that poor laburnum--laden with
dust, drooping with drought, and evidently in the very last stage of a
decline--that was planted beside the little gate! Tag-rag spoke of
cutting it down; but Mrs. and Miss Tag-rag begged its life a little
longer, because none of their neighbors had one!--and then _that_
subject dropped. How was it that though both the ladies had sat under a
thundering discourse from Mr. Dismal Horror that morning--they had never
once since thought or spoken of him or his sermon--never even opened his
exhilarating "_Groans_"? The reason was plain. They thought of Titmouse,
who was bringing "airs from heaven;" while Horror brought only "blasts
from----!" and _those_ they had every day in the week, (his sermons on
the Sunday, his "_Groans_" on the weekday.) At length Miss Tag-rag's
little heart fluttered violently, for her papa told her that Titmouse
was coming up the road--and so he was. Not dreaming that he could be
seen, he stood beside the gate for a moment, under the melancholy
laburnum; and, taking a dirty-looking silk handkerchief out of his hat,
slapped it vigorously about his boots, (from which circumstance it may
be inferred that he had walked,) and replaced it in his hat. Then he
unbuttoned his surtout, adjusted it nicely, and disposed his chain and
eyeglass just so as to let the tip only of the latter be seen peeping
out of his waistcoat; twitched up his shirt-collar, plucked down his
wristbands, drew the tip of a white pocket handkerchief out of the
pocket in the breast of his surtout, pulled a white glove halfway on his
left hand; and having thus given the finishing touches to his toilet,
opened the gate, and--Tittlebat Titmouse, Esquire, the great guest of
the day, for the first time in his life (swinging a little ebony cane
about with careless grace) entered the domain of Mr. Tag-rag.
The little performance I have been describing, though every bit of it
passing under the eyes of Tag-rag, his wife, and his daughter, had not
excited a smile; their anxious feelings were too deep to be reached or
stirred by light emotions. Miss Tag-rag turned very pale and trembled.
"La, pa!" said she, faintly, "how could you say he'd got white eyebrows
and whiskers? Why--they're a beautiful _black_!"
Tag-rag was speechless: the fact was so--for Titmouse had fortunately
succeeded in obtaining a little bottle of ink, which he had applied with
great effect. As Titmouse approached the house, (Tag-rag hurrying out to
open the door for him,) he saw the two ladies standing at the windows.
Off went his hat, and out dropped the dusty silk handkerchief, not a
little disconcerting him for the moment. Tag-rag, however, soon
occupied his attention at the door with anxious civilities, shaking him
by the hand, hanging up his hat and stick for him, and then introducing
him to the sitting-room. The ladies received him with the most profound
courtesies, which Titmouse returned with a quick embarrassed bow, and an
indistinct--"Hope you're well, mem?"
If they had had presence of mind enough to observe it, the purple color
of Titmouse's hair must have surprised them not a little; all _they_
could see standing before them, however, was--the angelic owner of ten
thousand a-year.
The only person tolerably at his ease, and he _only_ tolerably, was Mr.
Tag-rag; and he asked his guest----
"Wash your hands, Titmouse, before dinner?" But Titmouse said he had
washed them before he had come out. [The day was hot, and he had walked
five miles at a slapping pace.] In a few minutes, however, he felt a
little more assured; it being impossible for him not to perceive the
awful deference with which he was treated.
"Seen the _Sunday Flash_, mem?" he presently inquired, very modestly,
addressing Mrs. Tag-rag.
"I--I--that is--not _to-day_," she replied, coloring.
"Vastly amusing, isn't it?" interposed Tag-rag, to prevent mischief--for
he knew his wife would as soon have taken a cockatrice into her hand.
"Ye--e--s," replied Titmouse, who had not even glanced at the copy which
Snap had brought him. "An uncommon good fight between Birmingham
Big"----
Tag-rag saw his wife getting redder and redder. "No news stirring about
things in general, is there?" said he, with a desperate attempt at a
diversion.
"Not that I have heard," replied Titmouse. Soon he got a little farther,
and said how cheerful the stages going past must make the house. Tag-rag
agreed with him. Then there was a little pause. None of the party knew
exactly which way to look, nor in what posture to sit. Faint "hems" were
occasionally heard. In short, no one felt _at home_.
"Been to church, mem, this morning, mem?" timidly inquired Titmouse of
Miss Tag-rag--the first time of his daring to address her.
"Yes, sir," she replied, faintly coloring, casting her eyes to the
ground, and suddenly putting her hand into that of her mother--with
_such_ an innocent, engaging simplicity--like a timid fawn lying as
close as possible to its dam![13]
"We always go to _chapel_, sir," said Mrs. Tag-rag, confidently, in
spite of a deadly look from her husband; "the _gospel_ a'n't preached in
the Church of England! We sit under Mr. Horror--a heavenly preacher!
You've heard of Mr. Horror?"
"Yes, mem! Oh, yes! Capital preacher!" replied Titmouse, who of course
(being a true churchman) had never in his life heard of Mr. Horror, or
any other dissenter.
"When _will_ dinner be ready, Mrs. T.?" inquired Tag-rag, abruptly, and
with a very perceptible dash of sternness in his tone; but dinner was
announced the very next moment. He took his wife's arm, and in doing so,
gave it a sudden vehement pressure, which, coupled with a furious
glance, explained to her the extent to which she had incurred his anger!
Titmouse's offered arm the timid Miss Tag-rag scarcely touched with the
tip of her finger, as she walked beside him to dinner. He soon got
tolerably composed and cheerful at dinner, (which, contrary to their
usual custom--which was to have a cheerless _cold_ dinner on the
Sabbath--consisted of a little piece of nice roast beef, with plenty of
horse-radish, Yorkshire pudding, a boiled fowl, a plum-pudding made by
Mrs. Tag-rag, and custards which had been superintended by Miss Tag-rag
herself,) and, to oblige his hospitable host and hostess, ate till he
was near bursting. Miss Tag-rag, though really very hungry, could be
prevailed upon to take only a very small slice of beef and a quarter of
a custard, and drank a third of a glass of quasi sherry (_i. e._ Cape
wine) after dinner. She never once spoke, except in hurried answers, to
her papa and mamma; and sitting exactly opposite Titmouse, (with a big
plate of greens and a boiled fowl between them,) was continually
coloring whenever their eyes happened to encounter one another, on which
occasions, hers would suddenly drop, as if overpowered by the brilliance
of his. Titmouse began to love her very fast. After the ladies had
withdrawn, you should have heard the way in which Tag-rag went on with
Titmouse!--I can liken the two to nothing but an old fat spider and a
little fly.
"Will you come into my parlor?
Said the spider to the fly;"
--in the old song: and it might have been well for Titmouse to have
answered, in the language of the aforesaid fly:--
"No, thank you, sir, I really feel
No curiosity."
Titmouse, however, swallowed with equal facility Mr. Tag-rag's hard port
and his soft blarney; but _all_ fools have large swallows. When, at
length, Tag-rag with exquisite skill and delicacy alluded to the
painfully evident embarrassment of his "poor Tabby," and said he had
"all of a sudden found out what had been so long the matter with her,"
[ay, even this went down,] and hemmed, and winked his eye, and drained
his glass, Titmouse began to get flustered, blushed, and hoped Mr.
Tag-rag would soon "join the ladies." They did so, Tag-rag stopping
behind for a few moments to lock up the wine and the remains of the
fruit, not wishing to subject the servant-boy to temptation by the rare
opportunity afforded by fruit left on the table. Miss Tag-rag presided
over the tea-things. There were muffins, and crumpets, and reeking-hot
buttered toast; and hospitable Mrs. Tag-rag would hear of no denial,
"things had been _got_, and must be _eat_," she thought within herself;
so poor Titmouse, after a most desperate resistance, was obliged to
swallow a round of toast, half a muffin, an entire crumpet, and four
cups of hot tea; after which _they_ felt that _he_ must feel
comfortable; but he, alas, in fact, experienced a very painful degree of
turgidity, and a miserable conviction that he should be able neither to
eat nor drink anything more for the remainder of the week!
After the tea-things had been removed, Tag-rag, directing Titmouse's
attention to the piano, which was open, (with some music on it, ready to
be played from,) asked him whether he liked music. Titmouse, with great
eagerness, hoped Miss T. would give them some music; and she, after
holding out a long and vigorous siege, at length asked her papa what it
should be.
"_The Battle of Prague_," said her papa.
"_Before Jehovah's awful throne_, my dear!" hastily and anxiously
interposed her mamma.
"The Battle," sternly repeated her papa.
"It's Sunday night, Mr. T.," meekly rejoined his wife.
"Which will you have, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired Tag-rag, with _The Battle
of Prague_ written in every feature of his face. Titmouse almost burst
into a state of perspiration.
"A little of both, sir, if you please."
"Well," replied Tag-rag, slightly relaxing, "that will do. Split the
difference--eh? Come, Tab, down with you. Titmouse, will you turn over
the music for my little girl?"
Titmouse rose, and having sheepishly taken his station beside Miss
Tag-rag, the performances commenced with _Before Jehovah's awful
throne_! But mercy upon us! at what a rate she rattled over that "pious
air!" If its respectable composer (whoever he may be) had been present,
he must have gone into a fit; but there was no help for it--the heart of
the lovely performer was in _The Battle of Prague_, to which she
presently did most ample justice. So much were her feelings engaged in
that sublime composition, that the bursting of one of the
strings--twang! in the middle of the "_cannonading_" did not at all
disturb her; and, as soon as she had finished the exquisite "finale,"
Titmouse was in such a tumult of excitement, from a variety of causes,
that he could have shed tears. Though he had never once turned over at
the right place, Miss Tag-rag thanked him for his services with a smile
of infinite sweetness. Titmouse vowed he had never heard such splendid
music--begged for more: and away went Miss Tag-rag, hurried away by her
excitement. Rondo after rondo, march after march, she rattled over for
at least half an hour upon those hideous jingling keys; at the end of
which old Tag-rag suddenly kissed her with passionate fondness. Though
Mrs. Tag-rag was horrified at the impiety of all this, she kept a very
anxious eye on the young couple, and interchanged with her husband,
every now and then, very significant looks. Shortly after nine, spirits,
wine, and hot and cold water, were brought in. At the sight of them
Titmouse looked alarmed--for he knew that he must take something more,
though he would have freely given five shillings to be excused--for he
felt as if he could not hold another drop! But it was in vain.
_Willy-nilly_, a glass of gin and water stood soon before him; he
protested he could not touch it unless Miss Tag-rag would "take
something"--whereupon, with a blush, she "thought she _would_" take a
wine-glassful of sherry and water. This was provided her. Then Tag-rag
mixed a tumbler of port-wine negus for Mrs. Tag-rag, and a great glass
of mahogany-colored brandy and water for himself; and then he looked
round the elegant little apartment, and felt perfectly happy. As
Titmouse advanced with his gin and water, his spirits got higher and
higher, and his tongue more fluent. He once or twice dropped the "Mr."
when addressing Tag-rag; several times smiled, and once even winked at
the embarrassed Miss Tag-rag. Mr. Tag-rag saw it, and could not control
himself--for he had got to the end of his first glass of brandy and
water, and (a most unusual procedure with _him_) mixed himself a second
quite _as_ strong as the former.
"Tab! ah, Tab! what _has_ been the matter with you all these months?"
said he, chucking her under the chin--and then he winked his eye at her
and then at Titmouse.
"Papa!" exclaimed Miss Tag-rag, looking down, and blushing up to her
very temples.
"Ah, Titmouse--Titmouse--give me your hand," said Tag-rag; "you'll
forget us all when you're a great man--but we shall always remember
you!"
"You're very good--very!" said Titmouse, cordially returning the
pressure of Tag-rag's hand. At that instant it suddenly occurred to him
to adopt the suggestion of Mr. Gammon. Tag-rag was going on very fast,
indeed, about the disinterested nature of his feelings towards Titmouse;
towards whom, he said, he had always felt just as he did at that
moment--'twas in vain to deny it.
"I'm sure your conduct shows it, sir," commenced Titmouse, feeling a
shudder like that with which a timid bather approaches the margin of the
cold stream. "I could have taken my oath, sir, that when you had heard
what has happened, you would have refused to let me come into your
house!"----
"Ah, ha!--that's _rather_ an odd idea, too!" said Tag-rag, with
good-humored jocularity. "If I felt a true friendship for you as plain
Titmouse, it's so likely I should have _cut_ you just when--ahem! My
dear sir! It was _I_ that thought _you_ wouldn't have come into _my_
house! A likely thing, indeed!"
Titmouse was puzzled. His perceptions, never very quick or clear, were
now undoubtedly somewhat obfuscated with what he had been drinking. In
short, he did not understand that Tag-rag had not understood _him_; and
felt rather baffled.
"What surprising ups and downs there are in life, Mr. Titmouse!" said
Mrs. Tag-rag, respectfully--"they're all sent from above, you may depend
upon it, to _try_ us! No one knows how they'd behave, if as how (in a
manner) they were turned upside down."
"I--I hope, mem, I haven't done anything to show that _I_"----
"Oh! my dear Titmouse," anxiously interrupted Tag-rag, inwardly cursing
his wife, who, finding she always went wrong in her husband's eyes
whenever she spoke a word, determined for the future to stick to her
negus--"The fact is, there's a Mr. Horror here that's for sending all
decent people to----. He's filled my wife there with all sorts of----
nay, if she isn't bursting with cant--so never mind her! _You_ done
anything wrong! I _will_ say this for you--you always was a pattern of
modesty and propriety--your hand, my dear Titmouse!"
"Well--I'm a happy man again," resumed Titmouse, resolved now to go on
with his adventure. "And when did they tell you of it, sir?"
"Oh, a few days ago--a week ago," replied Tag-rag, trying to recollect.
"Why--why--sir--a'n't you mistaken?" inquired Titmouse, with a
depressed, but at the same time a surprised air. "It only happened this
morning, after you left"----
"Eh?--eh?--ah, ha!--What _do_ you mean, Mr. Titmouse?" interrupted
Tag-rag, with a faint attempt at a smile. Mrs. Tag-rag and Miss Tag-rag
also turned exceedingly startled faces towards Titmouse, who felt as if
a house were going to fall down on him.
"Why, sir," he began to cry, (an attempt which was greatly aided by the
maudlin condition to which drink had reduced him,) "till to-day, I
thought I was heir to ten thousand a-year, and it seems I'm not; it's
all a mistake of those cursed people at Saffron Hill!"
Tag-rag's face changed visibly, and showed the desperate shock he had
just sustained. His inward agony was forcing out on his slanting
forehead a dew of perspiration.
"What--a--capital--joke--Mr.--Titmouse--ah, ha!"--he gasped, hastily
passing his handkerchief over his forehead. Titmouse, though greatly
alarmed, stood to his gun pretty steadily.
"I--I wish it was a joke! It's been no joke to _me_, sir. There's
another Tittlebat Titmouse, it seems, in Shoreditch, that's the
right"----
"Who told you this, sir? Pho, I don't--I can't believe it," said
Tag-rag, in a voice tremulous between suppressed rage and fear.
"Too true, though, 'pon my life! It _is_, so help me----!" in the most
earnest and solemn manner.
"How dare you swear before ladies, sir? You're insulting them, sir!"
cried Tag-rag, trembling with rage. "And in _my_ presence, too, sir?
You're not a gentleman!" He suddenly dropped his voice, and in a
trembling and almost beseeching manner, asked Titmouse whether he was
really joking or serious.
"Never more serious in my life, sir; and enough to make me so, sir!"
replied Titmouse, in a lamentable manner.
"You really mean, then, to tell me it's all a mistake, then--and that
you're no more than what you always were?" inquired Tag-rag, with a
desperate attempt to speak calmly.
"Oh yes, sir! Yes!" cried Titmouse, mournfully; "and if you'll only be
so kind as to let me serve you as I used--I'll serve you faithfully! You
know it was no fault of _mine_, sir! They _would_ tell me it was so!"
'Tis impossible to conceive a more disgusting expression than the
repulsive features of Tag-rag wore at that moment, while he gazed in
ominous and agitated silence at Titmouse. His lips quivered, and he
seemed incapable of speaking.
"Oh, ma, I do feel _so_ ill!" faintly exclaimed Miss Tag-rag, turning
deadly pale. Titmouse was on the verge of dropping on his knees and
confessing the trick, greatly agitated at the effect unexpectedly
produced on Miss Tag-rag; when Tag-rag's heavy hand was suddenly placed
on his shoulder, and he whispered in a fierce undertone--"You're an
impostor, sir!" which arrested Titmouse, and made something like a MAN
of him. He was a fearful fool, but he did not want for mere _pluck_; and
now it was roused. Mrs. Tag-rag exclaimed, "Oh, you _shocking_ scamp!"
as she passed Titmouse, with much agitation, and led her daughter out of
the room.
"Then an impostor, sir, a'n't fit company for _you_, of course, sir!"
said Titmouse, rising, and trembling with mingled apprehension and
anger.
"Pay me my five-pound note!" almost shouted Tag-rag, furiously
tightening the grasp by which he held Titmouse's collar.
"Well, sir, and I will, if you'll only take your hand off! Hollo,
sir--What the de---- Leave go, sir! Hands off! Are you going to murder
me? I'll pay you, and done with you, sir," stammered Titmouse:--when a
faint scream was heard, plainly from Miss Tag-rag, overhead, and in
hysterics. Then the seething caldron boiled over. "You _infernal_
scoundrel!" exclaimed Tag-rag, almost choked with fury; and suddenly
seizing Titmouse by the collar, scarce giving him time, in passing, to
get hold of his hat and stick, he urged him along through the passage,
down the gravel walk, threw open the gate, thrust him furiously through
it, and sent after him such a blast of execration, as was almost strong
enough to drive him a hundred yards down the road! Titmouse did not
fully recover his breath or his senses for a long while afterwards. When
he did, the first thing he experienced, was a dreadful disposition
towards sickness; but gradually overcoming it, he felt an inclination to
fall down on his knees in the open road, and worship the sagacious and
admirable GAMMON, who had so exactly predicted what had come to pass!
And now, Mr. Titmouse, for some little time I have done with you.
Away!--give room to your betters. But don't think that I have yet
"rifled _all_ your sweetness," or am _yet_ about to "fling you like a
noisome weed away."