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.
CHAPTER V
When, after his return from Mr. Gammon's chambers, at Thavies' Inn, Titmouse woke at an early hour in the morning, he was laboring under the ordinary effects of unaccustomed inebriety. His lips were perfectly parched; his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth; there was a horrid weight pressing on his aching eyes, and upon his throbbing head. His pillow seemed undulating beneath him, and everything swimming around him; but when, to crown the whole, he was roused from a momentary nap by the insupportable—the loathed importunities of Mrs. Squallop, that he would just sit up and partake of three thick rounds of hot buttered toast, and a great basin of smoking tea, which would do him so much good, and settle his stomach—at all events, if he'd only have a thimbleful of gin in it—poor Titmouse was fairly overcome!… He lay in bed all that day, during which he underwent very severe sufferings; and it was not till towards night that he began to have anything like a distinct recollection of the events of the evening which he had spent with Mr. Gammon; who, by the way, had sent one of the clerks, during the afternoon, to inquire after him. He did not get out of bed on the Tuesday till past twelve o'clock, when, in a very rickety condition, he made his appearance at the shop of Messrs. Tag-rag and Co.; on approaching which he felt a sudden faintness, arising from mingled apprehension and disgust.
"What are you doing here, sir?—You're no longer in my employment, sir," exclaimed Tag-rag, attempting to speak calmly, as he hurried down the shop, white with rage, to meet Titmouse, and planted himself right in the way of his languid and pallid shopman.
"Sir!"—faintly exclaimed Titmouse, with his hat in his hand.
"Very much obliged, sir—very! by the offer of your valuable services," said Tag-rag. "But—that's the way out again, sir—that!—there!—good-morning, sir—good-morning, sir!—that's the way out"—and he egged on Titmouse, till he had got him fairly into the street—with infinite difficulty restraining himself from giving the extruded sinner a parting kick! Titmouse stood for a moment before the door, trembling and aghast, looking in a bewildered manner at the shop: but Tag-rag again making his appearance, Titmouse slowly walked away and returned to his lodgings. Oh that Mr. Gammon had witnessed the scene—thought he—and so have been satisfied that it had been Tag-rag who had put an end to his service, not he himself who had quitted it!
The next day, about the same hour, Mr. Gammon made his appearance at the establishment from which Titmouse had been expelled so summarily, and inquired for Mr. Tag-rag, who presently presented himself—and recognizing Mr. Gammon, whose presence naturally suggested the previous day's transaction with Titmouse, changed color a little.
"What did you please to want, sir?" inquired Mr. Tag-rag, with a would-be resolute air, twirling round his watch-key with some energy.
"Only a few minutes' conversation, sir, if you please," said Mr. Gammon, with such a significant manner as a little disturbed Mr. Tag-rag; who, with an ill-supported sneer, bowed very low, and led the way to his own little room. Having closed the door, he, with an exceedingly civil air, begged Mr. Gammon to be seated; and then occupied the chair opposite to him, and awaited the issue with ill-disguised anxiety.
"I am very sorry, Mr. Tag-rag," commenced Gammon, in his usual elegant and feeling manner, "that any misunderstanding should have arisen between you and Mr. Titmouse!"
"You're a lawyer, sir, I suppose?" Mr. Gammon bowed. "Then you must know, sir, that there are always two sides to a quarrel," said Mr. Tag-rag, anxiously.
"Yes—you are right, Mr. Tag-rag; and, having already heard Mr. Titmouse's version, may I be favored with your account of your reasons for discharging him? For he tells us that yesterday you dismissed him suddenly from your employment, without giving him any warn"–
"So I did, sir; and what of that?" inquired Tag-rag, tossing his head with a sudden air of defiance. "Things are come to a pretty pass indeed, when a man at the head of such an establishment as mine, can't dismiss a drunken, idle, impertinent—abusive vagabond." Here Mr. Gammon somewhat significantly took out his tablets—as if to note down the language of his companion.
"Do you seriously," inquired Mr. Gammon, "charge him with being such a character, and can you prove your charges, Mr. Tag-rag?"
"Prove 'em! yes, sir, a hundred times over; so will all my young men!" replied Tag-rag, vehemently.
"And in a court of justice, Mr. Tag-rag?" said Mr. Gammon, emphatically.
"Oh! he is going to law, is he? Ah, ha! Bless my soul!—So that's why you're come here—ah, ha!—when you can make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, you may get your bill out of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse!—ha, ha, ha!" laughed Tag-rag, hoping thereby to conceal how much he was really startled.
"Well—that's our look-out, Mr. Tag-rag: to Mr. Titmouse, his character is as valuable as Mr. Tag-rag's is to him. In short, Mr. Titmouse has placed himself in our hands, and we are resolved to go on with the case, if it cost us a hundred pounds—we are indeed, Mr. Tag-rag."
"Why—he's not a penny in the world to go to law with!" exclaimed Tag-rag, with an air of mingled wonder, scorn, and alarm.
"But you forget, Mr. Tag-rag, that if Mr. Titmouse's account of the business should turn out to be correct, it will be your pocket that must pay all the expenses, amounting probably to twenty times the sum which the law may award to him!"
"Law, sir?—It's not justice!—I hate law.—Give me common sense and common honesty!" said Mr. Tag-rag, with a little agitation.
"Both of them would condemn your conduct, Mr. Tag-rag; for I have heard a full account of what Mr. Titmouse has suffered at your hands—of the cause of your sudden warning to him, and your still more sudden dismissal of yesterday. Oh, Mr. Tag-rag! upon my honor, it won't do—not for a moment—and should you go on, rely upon what I tell you, that it will cost you dear."
"And suppose, sir," said Tag-rag, in a would-be contemptuous tone—"I should have witnesses to prove all I've said—which of us will look funny then, sir?"
"Which, indeed! However, since that is your humor, I can only assure you that it is very possible we may be, by the time of the trial, possessed of some evidence which will surprise you: and that Mr. Titmouse defies you to prove any misconduct on his part. We have, in short, taken up his cause, and, as you may perhaps find by and by, to your cost, we shall not easily let it drop."
"I mean no offence, sir," said Tag-rag, in a mitigated tone; "but I must say, that ever since you first came here, Titmouse has been quite another person. He seems not to know who I am, nor to care either—and he's perfectly unbearable."
"My dear sir, what has he said or done?—that, you know, is what you must be prepared to prove, when you come into court!"
"Well, sir! and which of us is likely to be best off for witnesses?—Think of that, sir—I've eighteen young men"–
"We shall chance that, sir," replied Gammon, shrugging his shoulders, and smiling very bitterly; "but again, I ask, what did you dismiss him for? and, sir, I request a plain, straightforward answer."
"What did I dismiss him for?—Haven't I eyes and ears?—First and foremost, he's the most odious-mannered fellow I ever came near—and—he hadn't a shirt to his back when I first took him—the ungrateful wretch!—Sir, it's at any rate not against the law, I suppose, to hate a man;—and if it isn't, how I hate Titmouse!"
"Mr. Tag-rag"—said Gammon, lowering his voice, and looking very earnestly at his companion—"can I say a word to you in confidence—the strictest confidence?"
"What's it about, sir?" inquired Tag-rag, somewhat apprehensively.
"I dare say you may have felt, perhaps, rather surprised at the interest which I—in fact our office, the office of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, in Saffron Hill—appear to have taken in Mr. Titmouse."
"Why, sir, it's your look-out to see how you're to be paid for what you're doing—and I dare say lawyers generally keep a pretty sharp look-out in that direction!"
Gammon smiled, and continued—"It may, perhaps, a little surprise you, Mr. Tag-rag, to hear that your present (ought I to say, your late?) shopman, Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse, is at this moment probably the very luckiest man—and one among the richest, too—in this kingdom."
"Why—you don't mean to say he's drawn a prize in the lottery?"—exclaimed Tag-rag, pricking up his ears, and manifestly changing color.
"Pho! my dear sir, that is a mere bagatelle compared with the good fortune which has just fallen to his lot. I solemnly assure you, that I believe it will very shortly turn out that he is at this moment the undoubted owner of an estate worth at least ten thousand a-year, besides a vast accumulation of ready money!"
"Ten thousand a-year, sir!—My Titmouse!—Tittlebat Titmouse!—Ten thousand a-year! it's quite impossible!" faltered Tag-rag, after a pause, having gone as pale as death.
"I have as little doubt of the fact, however, sir, as I have that you yesterday turned him out of doors, Mr. Tag-rag!"
"But"—said Mr. Tag-rag, in a low tone—"who could have dreamed it?—How was—really, Mr. Gammon!—how was I to know it?"
"That's the fact, however," said Gammon, shrugging his shoulders. Tag-rag wriggled about in his chair, put his hands in and out of his pockets, scratched his head, and continued staring open-mouthed at the bearer of such astounding intelligence. "Perhaps, however, all this is meant as a joke, sir,"—said he—"And if so—it's—it's—a very"–
"It's one of his solicitors who were fortunate enough to make the discovery, that tells you, sir," interrupted Gammon, calmly. "I repeat what I have already told you, Mr. Tag-rag, that an estate of ten thousand a-year is the very least"–
"Why, that's two hundred thousand pounds, sir!"—exclaimed Tag-rag, with an awe-struck air.
"At the very least"–
"Lord, Mr. Gammon!—Excuse me, sir, but how did you find it out?"
"Mere accident—a mere accidental discovery, sir, in the course of other professional inquiries!"
"And does Mr. Titmouse know it?"
"Ever since the day, Mr. Tag-rag, after that on which I called on him here!" replied Gammon, pointedly.
"You—don't—say—so!"—exclaimed Tag-rag, and then continued silent for nearly half a minute, evidently amazed beyond all power of expression.
"Well,"—at length he observed—"I will say this—with all his few faults—he's the most amiable young gentleman—the very amiablest young gentleman I—ever—came near. I always thought there was something uncommon superior-like in his looks."