»ir»^W^f*»MC*(»^^«^isrT*-'Br'Hawtr5rfT Cornell University Library arV1214 Ten thousand a year 3 1924 031 229 648 olin,anx (Cornell UniuerBttg ffiibrarg FROM THE BENNO LOEWY LIBRARY COLLECTED BY BENNO LOEWY 1854-1919 BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031229648 ' I hoiK*, gcnt^, tlint [luper'y uU ri^lit — eh? ,.. 42. 'Oh, heavens I" murmured Lady Cecilia: while the earl seemed struck dumb by the a]>proaching figure of Titmouse. ]i. iH-i-. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. - M SAMUEL WARREN, D.C.L., iP.U.S HesuUs of tlic: Cyanochaitantliropopoion.— p. 136. gt itJUf (fBtlitiott, witJt ITutss atui ilUiStvjvtiirnsi. PHILADELPHIA : PORTER & COATES, No. 822 Chestnut Stkeet. £.«. FRBSS OF HENRY B. ASHMEAD, PHILADELPHIA. TO EMILY, A LITTLE BLUE-EYED LAUGHING IMAGE OF PUEITT AND HAPPINESS, THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED, AS A SLIGHT MBMOEIAL OF A FATHER'S AFFECTION FOE AN ONLY DAUGHTEE. Fortuna ssevo Iseta negotio, et Ludum insolentem ludere pertinax, Transmutat incertos honores, Nunc milii, nunc alii benigna. Laudo manentem : si celeres quatit Pennas, resigno quie dedit, et mek Virtute me involvo, probamque Pauperiem sine dote qusero. Hob., Od. ui. 29. Thus rendered by Dryden. Fortune, that with malicious joy Does man, her slave, oppress, Proud of her office to destroy, Is seldom pleased to bless : Still various and unconstant still, But with an inclination to be ill, Promotes, degrades, delights in strife, And makes a lottery of life. I can enjoy her while she's kind ; But when she dances in the wind, And shakes the wings, and will not stay, I puff the prostitute away : The little or the much she gave is quietly resign'd; Content with poverty, my soul I arm. And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm. PREFACE. The Author having now bestowed upon this work a rigorous and final revision, hopes he may be allowed to say a word to the reader before it leaves his hand forever, to take its chance of appearing before posterity. " Ten Thousand a Year" is a fiction,-the plot of which was contrived with great care, for the purpose at once of exciting and sustaining, as far as possible, the reader's interest, and exhibiting, in a course of natural events, and by the agency of natural characters, the aspect, socially, pro- fessionally, politically and religiously, of English society in the nineteenth century. For this reason the tale travels over a great space of ground, and deals with almost every class of society. Without sharing the opinion attributed to Mr. Titmouse, that " the only real distinction between man- kind is that effected by Tiumey,'' the Author considers it an enormous engine for developing and testing the character of man, individually and collectively. With this view, having called up before his mind's eye a considerable number of widely dissimilar characters, in different positions in life, he devised the sudden loss of a splendid fortune by one, and its acqtusition and subsequent loss by another, with all their agitating and vividly illustrative incidents — his object being to teach, by the force of action and events, important moral lessons. How this is brought about, and how fer the attempt may be deemed successful, must now be deter- mined by a candid and competent reader. Some parts of " Ten Thousand a Year" have been written with a pen dipped freely and deeply into satire, but never with afly other object than to discriminate between virtue and vice, between sincerity and hypocrisy. Every institution has its defects, every order of men its unworthy mem- bers ; and that writer deserves no serious attention, and will produce no salutary effect on his reader's mind, who confounds individuals with the class to which they belong, and exhibits derogatory views of a system or institution, instead of tracing out, as with a caustic pencil, what are deemed the faulty parts. The Author hopes that he will not be judged in too harsh and exacting a spirit in respect of anything to be found in this work ; but that some license may be allowed one whose aim is not alone to instruct, but to vi PREFACE. amuse. He has received from time to time a great number of letters, one or two of them suggesting that he has sinned in respect of some of the matters above referred to. A peer wrote to him to complain of his having intended to ridicule the aristocracy, by the character, sayings and doings attributed to the Earl of Dreddlington and Lady Cecilia ; and some months afterwards, he received an extremely violent letter from a linen-draper, accusing him of an intention to render that respectable calling odious. To charges such as these he is not concerned to give an answer. As reason- ably might members of either House of Parliament, or of either branch of the legal profession, deem themselves wronged and misrepresented because certain unworthy and contemptible individuals belonging to them are placed in unfavorable contrast to those constituting the great body of worthy and honorable members of these classes. The Author lately, how- ever, received an earnest and courteous remonstrance from an eminent Dis- senting minister, against the alleged tendency of " Ten Thousand a Year" to exhibit disparaging views of Dissenters generally. The Author solemnly disclaims having ever been actuated by such unjust and unchristian feel- ings and intentions. He knows much and greatly to the honor of Dis- senters, and would consider himself acting unworthily as a member of the Church of England if he presumed to speak, or leave on record, a single disrespectful word concerning any denomination whatsoever of professing Christians. If " the Eeverend Dismal Horror" and " the Eeverend Smirk Mudflint" typify bad specimens of Dissenting ministers, surely the " Kev- erend Morphine Velvet" and " the Eeverend Gideon Fleshpot," are by no means desirable representatives of the Church of England clergy. Amongst many letters of a different character, the Author received one, a few years ago, from a town in the State of Kentucky, U. S., of which the following, with the suppression of several enthusiastic expressions, is an exact copy. The letter is subscribed with the writer's name, and found its' way addressed simply — "To the Author of Ten Thousand a Year, London, England." He lately discovered the writer to be a gentleman now occu- pying a high position in American society, and who recently filled an im- portant and responsible oflBce in the State : — -, Kentucky, U. S. "Sib:— Permit an humble individual, and a stranger, to express to you the gratification and delight your instructive work, 'Ten Thousand a Year,' has afforded him. Instructive it was ; for at the time I had the pleasure of perusing it, misfortune had laid her heavy hand upon me, and sometimes, when those who instead of aiding rather assisted in oppressing me, my heart would fail me; but when I thought of Charles Aubrey, as portrayed by you, who, though born to affluence, and reared in luxury, how he bore his misfortunes, I felt ashamed that I, but a mechanic, one of PREFACE. vii the toiling millions to whom God had given health and strength, should so far forget His goodness as to despair ; so I put my shoulder to the wheel right manfully, and turned neither to the right nor to the left, and with a firm reliance on His providence, determined to extricate myself from the pecuniary embarrassments I was surrounded with, and have suc- ceeded. " As to glorious Kate, I cannot tell you how I appreciate her character more than by saying that I hope sincerely the little stranger born to me some few nights ago, whom I have taken the liberty of naming Kate Aubrey, will take her namesake as a pattern of excellence, and follow it. " You will please accept these few lines in the spirit they are sent, from one who may never see your face, and has no motive in addressing you but the pleasure of paying homage, not to kings, or to high birth, but where it is due. " Believe me, sir, " I wish you happiness and prosperity, If the writer of this letter should see these pages, he is assured that the Author of this work has been perhaps more gratified by the foregoing com- munication than by any that have hitherto reached him with reference to " Ten Thousand a Year." London, 1854. CONTENTS. BOOK I. CHAP. PAGE L While Mr. Tittlebat. Titmouse adorns his outer man, the reader gets a glimpse of his inner man, such as it i&, 13 II. A sincere friend ; a wonderful advOTtisranent ; an important epistle, . . 24 III. A snake approaches an ape ; whick signifies Mi^ Gammon's introduction to Titmouse, 32 IV. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, and Mr. Titmouse, who astonishes them with a taste of his quality, 3D Y. Huckaback chooses to call upon Quirk, Gammon & Snap, to stir them up ; and what it led to, 49 VI, Great lawyers come on the scene ; a glimpse of daylight ; and a very moving letter, 66 Vn. Titmouse and Huckaback think it right to go to church ; and the former re- ceives a lesson on landlord and tenant law from Mrs. Squallop, ... 81 VIII. A vision of beauty unseen by Mr. Titmouse, who is in the midnight of des- pair, and writes a letter which startles Mr, Quirk, . . . . .91 IX. How Gammon used, to wind round Quirk ; and the subtle means he took to find out what Titmouse was about, 100 X. Gammon tackling Tag-rag, ; ; ; : ; 116 XI. Satin Lodge, and its refined inmates, who all pay their duty to Titmouse ; and he very nearly falls in love with Miss Tag-rag, 123 XII. Cyanochaitanthropopoion ; Damascus Cream; and Tetaragmenon Abracar dabra ; with their amazing effects on Mr. Titmouse's hair, .... 184 XIII. Titmouse's levee at Closet Court ; Mr. Tag-rag's entertainment to him at Satin Lodge ; and its disgusting issue, 148 BOOK II. I. The reader is now introduced to quite a different set of people, in Grosvenor Square, and falls in love with Kate Aubrey, , i ; . . . . 158 II. Christmas in the country ; Yatton ; Madam Aubrey ; the Reverend Doctor Tatham ; and old blind Bess, 169 ni. Two strange creatures are seen at Yatton by Mr. Aubrey and his sister ; and a hand-grenade is thrown, unseen, at the feet of the latter, . . . 185 IV. Country life ; Yatton ; Fotheringham ; the two beauties ; and an angel beset by an imp, 194 V. The explosion of the hand-grenade ■; shattered hopes and happiness, . . 204 VI. A winter evening's gossip at the Aubrey Arms, among Yatton villagers, and its grievous interruption, 220 VII. Gammon versus Tag-rag ; and Snap ctim Titmouse, introducing him to life in London — of one sort, 227 VTII. The feast of reason and the flow of soul at Alibi House; Mr. Quirk's banquet to Titmouse, who is overcome by it, 236 IX. Titmouse seems to hesitate between Miss Quirk and Kate Aubrey ; moreover, a cloud comes suddenly over his fortunes, ... ... 247 X. Suffering ; dignity ; tenderness ; resignation, ... ... 254 XI. How the great flaw was discovered in Mr, Aubrey's title; but a terrible hitch occurs in the proceedings of his opponents, 261 (ix) X CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE XII. Madam Aubrey's death and burial ; Grammon smitten with the sight of Kate Aubrey's beauty ; and a great battle takes place at the York assizes for Yatton, ... 271 BOOK III. I. After the battle.— The behavior of the belligerents ; and an adventurous pro- ject of Mr. Gammon's 30* II. The last chance ; and some profitable reflections, 321 HI. A Quixote ; and a friendly statesman, but with an eye to business, . . .333 IV. Mr. Aubrey surrenders at discretion ; and the opposing generals hold a coun- cil of war 338 V. A glimpse of the Eev. Dismal Horror j and Mr. Quirk's entertainment to Mr. and Mrs. Tag-rag, 348 VI. Mr. Titmouse's magnificent kinsman, the Bight Honorable the Earl of Dred- dlington, G.C.B., 355 VII. FareweU to Yatton 1 366 BOOK IV. I. Mr. Titmouse's first introduction to very high life indeed. A dinner with an earl, in Grosvenor Square! 380 II. Mr. Titmouse at Yatton, and the splendid festivities attending his inaugura- tion, ... 400 III. A gentleman in difficulties pondering his position and prospects.— Never despair, 423 IV. The Attorney-General, and Mr. Weasel, special pleader, 432 V. Suspense and trepidation, 441 VI. Mr. Aubrey's interview with Mr. Gammon ; followed by some philosophical reflections on life 448 BOOK V. I. Messrs. Yahoo and Fitz-Snooks versus Titmouse ; and Gammon versus them all 463 II. Tippetiwink ; and Titmouse becomes a great lion, 473 III. The Marquis Gants-Jaunes de Millefleurs; and the Eeverend Morphine Velvet 482 IV. Mr. Titmouse presented at court j after a slight accident to the Earl of Dred- dllngton 492 V. A drop of the golden shower falls on Mr. Tag-rag, who rerceives promotion, 497 VI. Mr. Titmouse receives the Earl of Dieddlington and Lady Cecilia, the Mar- quis Gants-Jaunes de Millefleurs, Mr. Venom Tuft, and Mr. Gammon, at Yatton 505 VII. Mr. Gammon and the Earl of Dreddlington. — Sapping and mining, . . 516 VIH. Lady Cecilia and her three lovers ; with her father's masterly diplomacy in favor of one of them, 523 BOOK VI. I. Mr. Aubrey In the deep waters, where he meets with a companion, . . 533 II. News from Dr. Tatham; and a communication from Messrs. Quirk, Gammon ASnap, 547 III. Mr. Gammon in Vivian street, after the manner of a snake in a dovecote, . 555 IV. Mr. Quirk's contemplated action for breach of promise of marriage; and how Mr. Titmouse courted the Lady Cecilia, * , 563 V. Mr. Titmouse stands for the borough of Yatton, but unexpectedly encounters a formidable opponent 572 CONTENTS. xi BOOK VII. CHAP. PAGE I. The great game at chess between Mr. Gammon and Mr, Crafty, which typi- fies an English election, and how it was lost and won, ..... 585 II. The day of battle arrives, 598 Iir. The fight waxes hot ; and after surprising fluctuation, a glorious victory is gained, 612 IV. Serious incidents for the consideration of the victors ; who have also to fight another battle on new ground, 626 v. Mr. Titmouse acquires sudden distinction in the House of Commons, . . 639 VI Mr. Titmouse becomes a Fellow of the Credulous Society, under the auspices of Dr. Diabolus Gander ; performs scientific experiments in the streets at night, and saves the Ministry, . . . 647 VII. Lady Cecilia is married to Mr. Titmouse : and the earl enters, under Mr. Gammon's auspices, on an adventurous career. An affecting letter of Lady Cecilia Titmouse, 656 VIII. A deadly struggle between a snake and an ape, 670 BOOK VIII. I. Mr. Gammon offers his hand and heart to Miss Aubrey. An exciting love- scene, in which Kate behaves with great propriety, 685 II. Mr. Gammon's skillful manoeuvres to crush Mr. Aubrey; and they seem seconded by fate^ 700 III Mr. Aubrey disregards Mr. Gammon's advice, and becomes the guest of Mr. Grab, 711 IV. Mr. Gammon's profound strategics .... 726 V. Kate communicates a secret told her by Mr. Gammon ; who secures her brother a night with Mr. Vice, 735 VI. Kate's diamond necklace; Mr. Runnington's munificence: Lady Stratton's £15,000 policy, which Gammon angles for 74S BOOK IX. I Fortune plays pranks with Titmouse ; the descent of the vulture ; and other matters of moment to Gammon, 755 II. The Artificial-Rain Company evaporates ; and a remarkable scene between Mr. Gammon and the Earl of Dreddlington, . 763 III. The Earl of Dreddlington's bedside; and Gammon's interview with the Duke ofTantallan, , . . 778 IV. Lord De la Zouch comes on the scene again ; an Attorney-General's sugges- tion ; and Gammon frightened by his own proctor, 790 V. Lord De la Zouch with the Aubreys, and Mr. Gammon with the Earl of Dred- dlington, whose intellect melts away before him, 801 VI Mr Gammon getting into deep waters, and dragging bis great friends after him 811 VII. What moles in the Ecclesiastical Court can do under ground ; and Gammon in a quandary, 819 BOOK X. I. Glances of daylight into a glen of fraud, and reptiles seen wriggling about in alarm, 826 II. What is Gammon to do ? Mr. Titmouse makes an equitable proposal to Kate Aubrey, 834 III. The scorpion in the fiery circle. Mr. Gammon's skillful exit 842 IV. The Earl of Dreddlington's bankruptcy and death ; and Lord Drelincourt appears on the scene , ... 848 Xll CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE V. Mudfliut, Woodlouae, and Bloodsuok in a Dad way ; and Sir Harkaway's awkward position, . . .... 862 VI. Mr; Titmouse on his last legs 869 VII. Mr, Tag-rag's final adventures ; a sudden glimpse of Gammon again ; and the last of Mr. Quirk 877 VIII. True nobility ; Yatton itself again ; and Kate Aubrey's disappearance, . 883 Appendix, 857 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. BOOK I. CHAPTEE I. WHILE ME. TITTIEBAT TITMOUSE ADORNS HIS OTTTER MAN, THE READER GETS A GLIMPSE OF HIS INNER MAN, SUCH AS IT IS. O'N'E Sunday morning about ten o'clock, in the month of July, 18 — , the dazzling sunbeams, which had for several hours irradiated a little dismal back attic in one of the closest courts adjoining Oxford street, in London, and stimulated with their intensity the closed eyelids of a young man — one Tittlebat Titmouse — lying in bed, at length awoke him. He rubbed his eyes for some time, to relieve himself from the irritation occar sioned by the sudden glare they encountered ; and yawned and stretched his limbs with a heavy sense of weaxiness, as ,though his sleep had not re- freshed him. He presently cast his eyes towards the heap of clothes lying huddled together on the backless chair by the bedside, where he had hastily flung them about an hour after midnight, at which time he had returned from a great draper's shop in Oxford street, where he served as a shopman, and where he had nearly dropped asleep, after a long day's work, in the act of putting up the shutters. He could hardly keep his eyes open while he undressed, short as was the time required to do so ; and on dropping exhausted into bed, there he had continued, in deep unbroken slumber, till the moment of his being presented to the reader. He lay for several minutes, stretching, yawning, and sighing, occasionally casting an irresolute glance towards the tiny fireplace, where lay a modicum of wood and coal, with a tinder-box and a match or two placed upon the hob, so that he could easily light his fire for the purposes of shaving, and breakfastiog. He stepped at length lazily out of bed, and when he had felt his feet, again yawned and stretched himself. Then he lit his fire, placed his bit of a kettle on the top of it, and returned to bed, where he lay with liis eye fixed on the fire, watching the crackling blaze insinuate itself through the wood and coal. Once, however, it began to fail, so he had to get up and assist it, by blowing, and bits of paper ; and it seemed in so precarious a state that he determined not again to lie down, but sit on the bedside — as he did, with his arms folded, ready to resume operations if (13) 14 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. necessary. In this posture he remained for some time, watching his little fire, and listlessly listening to the discordant jangling of innumerable church-bells, clamorously calling the citizens to their devotions. The current of thoughts passing through his mind was something like the fol- lowing : — " Heigho I — Lud, Lud ! — Dull as ditch water I This is my only holiday, yet I don't seem to enjoy it ! — for I feel knocked up with my week's work I (A yawn.) What a life mine is, to be sure ! Here am I, in my eight-and- twentieth year, and for four long years have been one of the shopmen at Tag-rag & Co.'s, slaving from half-past seven o'clock in the morning till nine at night, and all for a salary of thirty-five pounds a year, and my board! And Mr. Tag-rag — eughl what a beast! — is always telling me how high he's raised my salary ! ! Thirty-five pounds a year is all I have for lodging, and turning out like a gentleman ! 'Pon my life ! it ccwi'i last ; for sometimes I feel getting desperate — such strange thoughts come into my mind ! Seven shillings a week do I pay for iUa cursed hole — (he uttered the words with a bitter emphasis, accompanied by a disgustful look round the little room) — that one couldn't swing a cat in without touching the four sides ! Last winter, three of our gents (i. e. his fellow-shopmen) came to tea with me one Sunday night ; and bitter cold as it was, — we four made this cussed dog-hole so hot, we were obliged to open the window ! And as for accommodation — I recollect I had to borrow two nasty chairs &om the people below, who on the next Sunday borrowed my only decanter, in re- turn, and hang them, cracked it ! and then swore it was so when they had it ! Curse me, say I, if this life is worth having ! It's all the very vanity of vanities, as it's said somewhere in the Bible, and no mistake ! Fag, fag, fag, all one's days, and — what for? Thirty-five pounds a year, and 'no advance f (Here occurred a pause and reverie, from which he was roused by the clangor of the church-bells.) Bah, bells 1 ring away till you're all cracked ! Now, do you think I'm going to be mewed up in church on this the only day out of the seven I've got to sweeten myself in, and sniff fresh air, and see a bit of life? A precious joke that would be! (A yawn.) Whew !— after all, I'd almost as lieve sit here ; for what's the use of my going out? Everybody I see out is happy, excepting me, and the poor chaps that are like me ! Everybody laughs when they see me, and know that I'm only a tallow-faced counter-jumper — I know that's the odious name we gents go by ! — for whom it's no use to go out^-for one day in seven can't give one a bloom ! Oh, Lord 1 what's the use of being good-looking, as some chaps say I am ?" Here he instinctively passed his left hand through a profusion of bright sandy-colored hair, and cast an eye towards the bit of fractured looking-glass which hung against the wall, and had, by faithfully representing to him a by no means ugly set of features (despite the inflamed hue of his hair) whenever he chose to appeal to it, aflbrded him more enjoy- ment than any other object in the world, for years. " Ah, by Jove I many and many's the fine gal I've done my best to attract the notice of, while I was serving her in the shop— that is, when I've seen her get out of a car- riage ! There has been luck to many a chap like me, in the same line of speculation : look at Tom Tarnish— how did he get Miss Twang, the rich TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. 15 pianoforte-maker's daughter? — and now he's cut the shop, and lives at Hackney, like a regular gentleman ! Ah I that was a stroke I But somehow it hasn't answered with me yet ; the gals don't take ! How I have set my eyes to be sme, and ogled them ! All of them don't seem to dislike the thing — and sometimes they'll smile, in a sort of way that says I'm safe — but if s been no use yet — not a bit of it ! My eyes I catch me, by the way, ever nodding again to a lady on the Sunday, that had smiled when I stared at her whUe serving her in the shop — after what happened to me a month or two ago in the Park I Didn't I feel like damaged goods just then? But it's no matter, women are so different at different times! Very likely 1 mismanaged the thing. By the way, what a precious puppy of a chap the feUow was that came up to her at the time she stepped out of the carri- age to walk a bit ! As for good looks — cut me to ribbons (another glance at the glass) — no ; I a'n't afraid there, neither — ^but — heigho ! — I suppose he was, as they say, bom with a golden spoon in his mouth, and had never so many thousands a year, to make up to him for never so few brains ! — for people seldom have both money and brains. He was uncommon well- dressed, though, I must own. What trousers I — they stuck so natural to him, he might have been bom in them. And his waistcoat, and satin stock — what an air ! And yet, his figure was nothing very out of the way ! His gloves, as white as snow ; I've no doubt he wears a pair of them a day — ^my stars ! that's three-and-sixpence a day ; for don't I know what they cost ? Whew 1 if I had but the cash to carry on that sort of thing I And when he'd seen her into the carriage — the horse he got on 1 — and what a tip-top groom ; — that chap's wages, I'll answer for it, were equal to my salary I (Here was another pause.) Now, just for the fun of the thing, only suppose luck was to befall me / Say that somebody was to leave me lots of cash — ^many thousands a year, or something in that line ! My stars ! wouldn't I go it with the best of them? (Another long pause.) Gad, I really should hardly know how to begin to spend it ! I think, by the way, I'd buy a tide to set off with — for what won't money buy ? The thing's often done ; there was a great pawnbroker in the city, the other day, made a baronet of, all for his money— and why shouldn't I?" He grew a little heated with the progress of his reflections, clasjiing his hands with involun- tary energy, as he stretched them out to their fullest extent, to give effect to a very hearty yawn. " Only think how it would sound 1 — 'SLR TITTLEBAT TITMOTJSB, BARONET;' OB 'LORD TITMOUSE!!' " The very first place I'd go to, after I'd got my title, and wa-s rigged out in Tight-fit's tip-top, should be — our cursed shop ! to buy a dozen or two pairs of white kids. Ah, ha ! What a flutter there would be among the poor pale dfevils as would be standing, just as ever, behind the counters, at Tag-rag and Co.'s, when my carriage drew up, and I stepped, a tip-top swell, into the shop ! Tag-rag would come and attend to me himself! No, he wouldn't — pride wouldn't let him. I don't know, though : what wouldn't he do to turn a penny, and make two and ninepence into three and a penny? I shouldn't quite come Captain Stiff over him, I think, just at first ; but I should treat him with a kind of an air, too, as if— hem ! 'Pon 16 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. my life I how delightftil ! (A sigh and a pause.) Yes, I should often come to the shop. Gad, it would he half the fiin of my fortune ! Poor chaps ! How they would envy me, to be sure ! How one should enjoy it ! I wouldn't think of marryvng tiU — and yet I won't say either ; if I got among some of them out-and-outers — ^those first-rate articles — ^that lady, for in- stance, the other day in the Park — I should like to see her cut me as she did, with ten thousand a year in my pocket! Why, she'd be running after me I — or there's no truth in novels, which Pm sure there's often a great deal in. Oh, of course, I might marry whom I pleased 1 Who couldn't be got by a gent with his ten thousand a year? (Another pause.) I think I should go abroad to Russia, directly ; for they tell me there's a man Uvcs somewhere there who could dye this cussed hair of mine any color I liked — and — egad ! Pd come home as black as a crow, and hold up my head as high as any of them 1 While I was about it, Pd have a touch at my eyebrows" Crash here went all his castle-building, at the sound of his tea-kettle, hissing, whizzing, sputtering, in the agonies of boiling over ; as if the intolerable heat of the fire had driven desperate the poor creature placed upon it, which instinctively tried thus to extinguish the cause of its anguish. Having taken it off, and placed it upon the hob, and put on the fire a tiny fragment of fresh coal, he began to make preparations for shav- ing, by pouring some of the hot water into an old tea-cup, which was presently to serve for the purposes of breakfast. Then he spread out a bit of crumpled whity-brown paper, in which had been folded up a couple of cigars, bought over-night for the Sunday's special enjoyment — and as to which, if he supposed them to have come from any place beyond the four seas, I imagine him to have been slightly mistaken. He placed this bit of paper on the little mantelpiece ; drew his solitary well-worn razor several times across the palm of his left hand ; dipped his brush, worn within half an inch to the stump, into the hot water ; presently passed it over so much of his face as he intended to shave ; then rubbed on the damp sur&ce a bit of yellow soap — and in less than five minutes Mr. Titmouse was a shaved man. But mark — don't suppose that he had performed an extensive opera- tion. One would have thought him anxious to get rid of as much as possible of his abominable sandy-colored hair. Quite the contrary 1 Every hair of his spreading whiskers was sacred from the touch of steel ; and a bushy crop stretched underneath his chin, coming curled out on each side of it, above his stock, like two little horns or tusks. An imperial — i. e. a, dirt-colored tuft of hair, permitted to grow perpendicularly down the under- lip of puppies — and a pair of promising mustaches, poor Mr. Titmouse had been compelled to sacrifice some time before to the tyrannical whimsies of his vulgar employer, Mr. Tag-rag, who imagined them not to be exactly suitable appendages for counter-jumpers. Thus will it be seen that the space shaved over on this occasion was somewhat circumscribed. This operation over, he took out of his trunk an old dirty-looking pomatum pot. A modicum of its contents, extracted on the tips of his two forefingers, he stroked carefully into his eyebrows ; then spreading some on the palms of his hands, he rubbed it vigorously into his stubborn hair and whiskers for some quarter of an hour ; afterwards combing and brushing his hair TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. 17 into half-a-dozen different dispositions — so fastidious in that matter was Mr. Titmouse. Then he dipped the end of a towel into a little water, and twisting it round his right forefinger, passed it gently over his face, carefully avoiding his eyebrows, and the hair at the top, sides, and bottom of his face, which he then wiped with a dry corner of the towel ; and no further did Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse think it necessary to carry his ablutions. Had he, however, been able to " see himself as others saw him," in respect of those neglected regions which lay somewhere behind and beneath his ears, he might not, possibly, have thought it superfluous to irrigate them with a little soap and water; but, after all, he knew best; it might have given him cold ; and besides, his hair was very thick and long behind, and might per- haps conceal anything tliat was imsightly. Then Mr. Titmouse drew from underneath the bed a bottle of " incomparable blacking," and a couple of brushes, with great labor and skill polishing his boots up to a wonderftd degree of brilliancy. Having replaced his blacking implements under the bed and washed his hands, he devoted a few moments to boiling about three tea-spoonfuls of coffee (as it was styled on the paper from which he took, and in which he had bought, it — whereas it was, in fact, ehiccory). Then he drew forth from his trunk a calico shirt, with linen wristbands and collar, which had been worn only twice {i, e. on the preceding two Sundays) since its last washing, and put it on, taking great care not to rumple a very showy £pont, containing three rows of frills, in the middle one of which he stuck three " studs," connected together with two little gilt chains, looking exceedingly stylish — especially when coupled with a span-new satin stock, which he next buckled round his neck. Having put on his bright boots (without, I am really sorry to say, any stockings), he carefully insinuated his legs into a pair of white trousers, for the first time since their last wash- ing ; and what with his short straps and high braces, they were so tight that you would have feared their bursting on his sitting down hastily. I fear that I shall hardly be believed ; but it is a fact that the next thing that he did was to attach a pair of spurs to his boots ; — but, to be sure, it was not impossible that he roight intend to ride during the day. Then he put on a queer kind of under-waistcoat, which in fact was only a roll-collar of rather faded pea-green silk, and designed to set off a very fine flowered damson-colored silk waistcoat, over which he drew a massive mosaic-gold chain (to purchase which he had sold u, serviceable silver watch), which had been carefully wrapped up in cotton wool ; from which soft depository, also, he drew his bing (those must have been sharp eyes which could tell, at a distance, and in a hurry, that it was not diamond), which he placed on the stumpy little finger of his red and thick right hand, and contemplated its sparkle with exquisite satisfaction. Having proceeded thus far with his toilet, he sat down to his breakfast, spreading upon his lap the shirt which he had taken off, to preserve his white trousers from spot or stain — his thoughts alternating between his late waking vision and his purposes for the day. He had no butter, having used the last on the preceding morn- ing ; so he was fain to put up with dry bread — and very dry and teeth- trying it was, poor fellow! but his eye lit on his ring, and he bore it! Having swallowed two cups of his gijosi-coffee (eugh! such stuff!) he 2 18 TEN THOUSAND A TEAS. resumed his toilet, by drawing out of his other trunk his blue surtout, with embossed silk buttons and velvet collar, and an outside pocket in the left breast. Having smoothed down a few creases, he put it on ; — ^flien, before his little vulgar fraction of a looking-glass, he stood twitching about collar, sleeves, and front, so as to make them sit well, concluding with a careful elongation of the wristbands of his shirt, so as to show their whiteness gracefully beyond the cuff of his coat-sleeve — and he succeeded in producing a sort of white boundary line between the blue of his coat-sleeve and the red of his hand. At that useful member he could not help looking with a sigh, as he had often done before — ^for it was not a handsome hand. It was broad and red, and the fingers were thick and stumpy, with very coarse deep wrinkles at every joint. His nails also were flat and shapeless, and he used to be continually gnawing them till he had succeeded in getting them down to the quick — and they were a sight to set one's teeth on edge. Then he extracted from the first-mentioned trunk a white pocket-hand- kerchief — an exemplary one, that had gone through four Sundays' show (not use be it understood), and yet was capable of exhibition again. A pair of sky-colored kid gloves next made their appearance, which, however, showed such barefaced marks of former service as rendered indispensable a ten minutes' rubbing with bread crumbs. His Sunday hat, carefully covered with silver-paper, was next gently removed from its well-worn box — ah, how lightly and delicately did he pass his smoothing hand round its glossy surface I Lastly, he took down a thin black cane, with a gilt head and flill brown tassel, from a peg behind the door — and his toilet was com- plete. Laying down his cane for a moment, he passed his hands again through his hair, arranging it so as to fall nicely on each side beneath his hat, which he then placed upon his head, with an elegant inclination towards the left side. He Was really not so very bad-looking, in spite of his sandy- colored hair. His forehead, to be sure, was contracted, and his eyes were of a very light color, and a trifle too protuberant ; but his mouth was rather well-formed, and being seldom closed, exhibited beautiful teeth ; and his nose was of that description which generally passes for a Koman nose. Hia countenance wore generally a smile, and was expressive of self-satisfaction: and surely any expression is better than none at all. As for there being, however, the slightest trace of inteUect in it, I should be misleading the reader if I were to say anything of the sort. In height he was about five feet and a quarter of an inch, in Ms boots, and he was rather strongly set, with a little tendency to round shoulders ; but his limbs were pUant and his motions nimble. Here you have, then, Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse to the life — certainly no more than an average sample of his kind ; but, as he is to go through a considerable variety of situation and circumstance, I thought you would like to have him as distinctly before your mind's eye as it was in my power to present him. Well, he put his hat on, as I have said ; buttoned the lowest two buttons of his surtout, and stuck his white pocket-handkerchief into the outside pocket in front, anxiously disposing it so as to let a little appear above the edge of the pocket, with a sort of careful carelessness — a graceful contrast to the blue ; drew on his gloves ; took his cane in his TEN TBOUSAND A YEAR. 19 hand ; drained the last sad remnant of infusion of chiccory in his coffee-cup ; and, the sun shining in the full splendor of a Julynoon, and promising a glorious day, forth sallied this poor brainless sinner, an Oxford street Adonis, going forth conquering and to conquer I Petty finery without, a pinched and stinted stomach within ; a case of Back versus Belly (as the lawyers would have it), the plaintiff winning in a canter ! Forth sallied, I say, Mr. Titmouse, as also, doubtless, sallied forth that day some five or six thousand similar simpletons, down the nairrow, crealdng, close staircase, which he had no sooner quitted than he heard exclaimed from an opposite window, " My eyes ! a'n't that a swell !" He felt how true the observation was, and that at that moment he was somewhat out of his element ; so he hurried on, and soon reached that great broad disheartening street, apostro- phized by the celebrated Opium-Eater with bitter feelings, as — " Oxford street! — stony-hearted stepmother! Thou that listenest to the sighs of orphans, and drinkest the tears of children !" Here, though his spirits were not just then very buoyant, our poor little dandy breathed more freely than when passing through the wretched crowded court (Closet Court) which he had just quitted. He passed and met hundreds who, like himself, seemed released for a precious day's interval from miserable confinement and slavery during the week ; but there were not very many of them, he conceived, who could vie with him in elegance of appearance — and that was indeed a luxuri- ous reflection ! Who could do justice to the air with which he strutted along ! He felt as happy, poor soul, in his little ostentation, as his Corin- thian rival in tip-top turnout, after twice as long, and as anxious, and fifty times as expensive, preparations for effective public display ! Nay, iny poor swell was in some respects greatly the superior of such an one as I have alluded to. Mr. Titmouse did, to a great degree, bedizen his back — ^but at the expense of his belly; whereas, the Corinthian exquisite, too often taking advantage of station and influence, recklessly both pampers his luxurious appetite within and decorates his person without, at the expense of innumerable heart^aching creditors. I do not mean, however, to claim any real merit for Mr. Titmouse on this score, because I am not sure how he would act if he were to become possessed of his magnificent rival's means and opportunities for the perpetration of gentlemanly frauds on a splendid scale. But we shall perhaps see by and by. Mr. Titmouse walked along with leisurely step, for haste and perspiration were vulgar, and he had the day before him. Observe, now, the careless glance of self-satisfaction with which he occasionally regards his bright boots, with their martial appendage, giving out a faint clinking sound as he heavily treads the broad flags ; his spotless trousers, his tight surtout, and the tip of white handkerchief peeping cuicickntally out in front. A pleasant sight it was to behold him in a chance rencontre with some one genteel enough to be recognized — as he stood, resting on his left leg ; his left arm stuck upon his hip; his right leg easily bent outwards; his right hand lightly holding his ebon cane, with the gilt head of which he occasionally lapped his teeth ; and his eyes, half closed, scrutinizing the face and figure of each "pretty gal " as she passed, and to whom he had a delicious conscious- ness that he appeared an object of interest I This was indeed happiness, 20 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. as far as his forlorn condition could admit of his enjoying happiness. He had no particular object in view. A tiff' over night with two of his shop- mates, had broken off a party which they had agreed the Sunday preceding in forming, to go that day to Greenwich ; and this trifling circumstance had a, little soured his temper, depressed as had been his spirits before. He resolved, on consideration, to walk straight on, and dine somewhere a little way out of town, by way of passing the time till four o'clock, at which hour he intended to make his appearance at Hyde Park, " to see the swells and the fashions," which was his favorite and instructive Sunday occupation. His condition was, indeed, forlorn in the extreme. To say nothing of his prospects in life — ^what was his present condition ? A shopman with thirty-five pounds a year, out of which he had to find his clothing, washing, lodging, and all other incidental expenses — the chief item of his board — such as it was ! — being found by his employers. He was five weeks in arrear to his landlady — a corpulent old termagant, whom nothing could have induced him to risk offending but his overmastering love of finery ; for I grieve to say that this deficiency had been occasioned by his purchase of the ring he then wore with so much pride ! How he; had contrived to pacify her — lie upon lie as he must have had recourse to — I know not. He was indebted also to his poor washerwoBian in five or six shillings for at least a quarter's washing ; and owed five times that amount to a little old tailor, who, with huge spectacles on his nose, turned up to him, out of a little cupboard which he occupied in Closet Court, and which Titmouse had to pass whenever he went to or from his lodgings, a lean, sallow, wrinkled face, imploring him to " settle his small account." All the cash in hand which he had, to meet contingencies between that day and quarter- day, which was six weeks off", was about twenty-six shillings, of which he had taken one for the present day's expenses ! Eevolving these somewhat disheartening matters in his mind, he passed easily and leisurely along the whole length of Oxford street. No one could have judged from his dressy appearance, the constant smirk on his face, and his confident air, how very miserable that poor little dandy was ; but three-fourths of his misery were really occasioned by the impossibility he felt of his ever being able to indulge in his propensities for finery and display. Nothing better had he to occupy his few thoughts. He had had only a plain mercantile education, as it is called, i. c. reading, writing, and arithmetic : beyond an exceedingly moderate acquaintance with these, he knew nothing whatever, not having read anything except a few inferior novels, and plays, and sporting newspapers. Deplorable, however, as were his circumstances — Hope springs eternal In the human breast. And probably, in common with most who are miserable from straitened circumstances, he often conceived, and secretly relied upon, the possibility of some unexpected and accidental change for the better. He had heard and read of extraordinary cases of luck. Why might he not be one of the liUCKY ? A rich girl might fall in love with him — that was, poor fellow 1 in his consideration, one of the least unlikely ways of luck's advent ; or some TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 21 one might leave him money ; or he might win a prize in the lottery ; — all these, and other accidental modes of getting rich, fi-equently occurred to the well-regulated mind of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse ; but he never once thought of one thing, namely, of determined, unwearying industry, perseverance, and integrity in the way of his business, conducing to such a result 1 Is his case a solitary one ? Dear reader, you, may be unlike poor Tit- tlebat Titmouse in every respect except one / * On he walked towards Bayswater ; and finding that it was yet early, and considering that the further he went from town the better prospect there would be of his being able, with little sacrifice of appearances, to get a dinner consistent with the aforesaid pecuniary means he carried about with him, viz. one shilling, he pursued his way a mile or two beyond Bayswater ; and, sure enough, came at length upon a nice little public-house on the roadside, called the Squaretoes Arms. Very tired, and very dusty, he first sat down in a small back-room to rest himself; and took the opportunity to call for a clothes-brush and shoe-brush, to relieve his clothes and boots from the heavy dust upon them. Having thus attended to his outer man, as far as circumstances would permit, he bethought himself of his inner man, whose cravings he presently satisfied with a pretty substantial mutton- pie and a pint of porter. This fare, together with a penny (which he felt forced to give) to the little girl who waited on him, cost him tenpence ; and then, having somewhat refreshed himself, he began to think of returning to town. Having lit one of his two cigars, he sallied forth, pufiing along with an air of quiet enjoyment. Dinner, however humble, seldom fails, especially when accompanied by a fair draught of tolerable porter, in some considerable degree to tranquillize the animal spirits ; and that soothing efiect began soon to be experienced by Mr. Titmouse. The sedative cause he erroneously considered to be the cigar he was smoking; whereas, in fact, the only tobacco he had imbibed was from the porter. But, however that might be, he certainly returned towards town in a much calmer and more cheerful humor than that in which he had quitted it an hour or two before. As he approached Cumberland Gate, it was about half-past five ; and the Park might be said to be at its acme of fashion, as far as that could be indi- cated by a sluggish stream of carriages, three and four abreast — coroneted panels in abundance — noble and well-known equestrians of both sexes, in troops — and some hundreds of pedestrians of the same description. So continuous was the throng of carriages and horsemen, that Titmouse did not find it the easiest matter in the world to dart across to the footpath in the inner circle. That, however, he presently safely accomplished, encoun- tering no more serious mischance than the muttered "D — your eyes I" of a haughty groom, between whom and his master Mr. Titmouse had pre- sumed to intervene. What a crowd of elegant women, many of them young and beautiful (who but such, to be sure, would have become, or been allowed to become, pedestrians in the Park?) he encountered, as he slowly sauntered on, all of them obsequiously attended by brilliant beaus 1 Lords and ladies were here manifestly as plentiful as plebeians in Oxford street. What an enchanted ground ! How delicious this soft crush and flutter of aristocracy ! 22 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. Poor Titmouse felt at once an intense pleasure, and a withering conscious- ness of his utter insignificance. Many a sigh of dissatisfaction and envy escaped him ; yet he stepped along with a tolerably assured air, looking everybody he met straight, and I must own, even impudently, in the face, and occasionally twirling about his little cane with an air which seemed to say, " Whatever opinion you may form of me, I have a very good opinion of myself." Indeed, was he not as much a man — an Englishman — as the best of them ? What was the real difference between Count Do-' em-all and Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse? Only that the Count had dark hair and whiskers, and owed ten thousand times more money than Mr. Titmouse's creditors could be persuaded to allow him to owe ! Would to Heaven — thought Tit- mouse — that any one tailor would patronize /ram as half-ardozen patronized the Count ! If pretty ladies of quality did not disdain a walking advertise- ment of a few first-rate tailors, like the Count, why should they turn up their noses at an assistant in an extensive wholesale and retail establish- ment in Oxford street, conversant with the qualities and prices of the most beautiful articles of female attire ? Yet, alas ! they did so I He sighed heavily. Leaning against the railing in a studied attitude, and eyeing wistfiiUy each gay and fashionable equipage, with its often lovely and sometimes haughty enclosure, as it rolled slowly past him, Mr. Titmouse became more and more convinced of a great practical truth, viz., that the only real distinction between mankind wag that effected by money. Want of money alone had placed him in his present abject position. Abject indeed I By the great folk who were passing him on all sides, he felt, well dressed as he believed himself to be, that he was no more noticed than as if he had been an ant, a blue-bottle fly, or a black beetle ! He looked, and sighed — sighed, and looked — looked, and sighed again, in a. kind of agony of vain longing. While his only day in the week for breath- ing fresh air, and appearing like a gentleman in the world, was rapidly drawing to a close, and he was beginning to think of returning to the dog- hole he had crawled out of in the morning, and to the shop for the rest of the week, the great, and gay, and happy folk he was looking at were thinking of driving home to dress for their grand dinners, and to lay out every kind of fine amusement for the ensuing week : and that, moreover, was the sort of life they led every day ! He heaved a profound sigh. At that moment a superb cab, with a gentleman in it dressed in great elegance, and with very keen dark eyes, and striking hooked nose, and well-oiled, expanding whiskers, came up with a cab of still more exquisite structure and appointments, and at which Titmouse was gazing with unutterable feel- ings of envy— in which sat a young man, evidently of consequence, but with a shockingly dissipated look; very handsome, with splendid musta- ches; perfectly well-dressed; holding the reins and whip gracefully in hands glistening in straw-colored kid gloves. Between the two gentlemen ensued the following low-toned colloquy, which it were to be wished that every such sighing simpleton (as Titmouse must, I fear, by this time, appear to the reader) could have overheard. "Ah, Fitzl" said the former-mentioned gentleman to the latter, who suddenly reddened when he perceived who had addressed him. The' man- TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 23 ner of the speaker was execrably familiar and presumptuous — ^but how could the embarrassed smell help himself? "When did you return to town?" " Last night only." "Enjoyed yourself I hope?" "Pretty well — ^but — I — suppose you " "Sorry for it," interrupted the first speaker in a lower tone, perceiving the vexation of his companion ; " but can't help it, you know." "When?" " To-morrow at nine. Monstrous sorry for it — ^"pon my soul, you really must look sharp, Fitz, or the thing won't go on much longer." "Must it be, really?" inquired the other, biting his lip — at that moment kissing his hand to a very beautiful girl, who slowly passed him in a coroneted chariot — "must it really be, Joe?" he repeated, turning towards his companion a pale and bitterly chagrined countenance. "Poz, 'pon my life. Cage clean, however, and not very fiill — just at present " " Would not Wednesday /" — ^inquired the other, leaning forward towards the former speaker's cab, and whispering with an air of intense earnest- ness. " The fact is, Fve engagements at C 's on Monday and Tuesday nights with one or two country cousins, and I may be in a condition — eh? you understand ?" TTJH companion shook his head distrustfully. " Upon my word and honor as a gentleman, it's the fact !" said the other, in a low vehement tone. " Then gay Wednesday, nine o'clock, A. M. You understand ? No mis- takes, Eitz I" replied his companion, looking him steadily in the &ce as he spoke. " None — honor !" After a pause — " Who is it ?" His companion took a slip of paper out of his pocket-book, and in a whisper read from it — " Cab, harness, &c., £297 10s." "A villain 1 It's been of only three years' standing," interrupted the other, in an indignant mutter. "Between ourselves, he is rather a sharp hand. Then, Fm sorry to say, there's a detainer or two I have had a hint of " The swell uttered an execration which I dare not convey to paper — his face distorted with an expression of mingled disgust, vexation, and hatred ; and adding, " Wednesday — nine" — drove off, a picture of tranquil enjoy- ment! I need hardly say that he was a fashionable young spendthrift, and the other a sheriff's officer of the first water — the genteelest beak that ever was known or heard of — ^who had been on the look-out for him several days, and with whom the happy youngster was doomed to spend some considerable time at a cheerful residence in Chancery Lane, bleeding gold at every pore the while, — his only chance of avoiding which was, as he had truly hinted, an honorable attempt on the purses of two hospitable country cousins, in the meanwhile, at C 's 1 And if he did not succeed in tliat enterprise, so that he must go to cage, he lost the only chance he had 24 TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. for some time of securing an exemption from such annoyance, by entering Pariiament to protect the liberties of the people — an eloquent and resolute champion of freedom in trade, religion, and everything else ; and an aboli- tionist of everything, including, especially, negro slavery and imprison- ment for debt — two execrable violations of the natural rights of mankind. But I have for several minutes lost sight of the admiring Titmouse. "Why," thought he, "am /thus spited by fortune? — the only thing she's given me is — nothing! — D — everythmg .'" exclaimed Mr. Titmouse aloud, at the same time starting off, to the infinite astonishment of an old peer, who had been for some minutes standing leaning against the railing, close beside him ; who was master of a magnificent fortune ; " with all appli- ances and means to boot ;" with a fine grown-up femily, his eldest son and heir having just gained a Double First, and promising wonders ; possess- ing splendid mansions in different parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland ; a reputation for exquisite taste and accomplishments, and being the repre- sentative of one of the oldest families in England, but who at that moment loathed everything and everybody, including himself, because the minister had the day before intimated to him that he could not give him a vacant ribbon, for which he had applied, unless he could command two more votes in the Lower House, which at present his lordship saw no earthly means of doing. Yes, the Earl of CheviotdaJe and Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse were both miserable men : both had been hardly dealt with by fortune ; both were greatly to be pitied ; and both quitted tlie Park, about the same time, with a decided misanthropic tendency. CHAPTER II. A SINCERE PKIBND; A WONDEEFnij ADVERTISEMENT; AIT IMPORTANT EPISTLE. ME. TITMOUSE walked along Piccadilly with a truly chopfaUen and disconsolate air. He very nearly felt dissatisfied even with his per- sonal appearance I Dress as he would, no one seemed to care a curse for him ; and, to his momentarily jaundiced eye, he seemed equipped in only second-hand and shabby finery : and then he was really such a poor devil I Do not, however, let the reader suppose that this was an unusual mood with Mr. Titmouse. No such thing. Like the Irishman who " married a wife for to make him un-aisy," and also not unlike the moth that wUl haunt the brightness which is her destruction, so poor Titmouse, Sunday after Sunday, dressed himself out as elaborately as he had done on the present occasion, and then always betook himself to the scene he had just again witnessed, and which had once more excited only those feelings of envy, bitterness, and despair which I have been describing, and which, on every such occasion, he experienced with, if possible, increased intensity. What to do with himself till it should be time to return to his cheerless TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 25 lodgings he did not exactly know ; so he loitered along at a snail's pace. He stood for some time staring at the passengers, their luggage, and the coaches they were ascending and alighting from, and listening to the strange medley of coachmen's, guards', and porters' vociferations, and pas- sengers' greetings and leave-takings^aJways to be observed at the White Horse Cellar. Then he passed along, till a street row, near the Haymar- ket, attracted his attention and interested his feelings ; for it ended in a regular set-to between two watermen attached to the adjoining coach-stand. Here he conceived himself looking on with the easy air of a swell ; and the ordinary penalty (paying for his footing) was attempted to be exacted from him ; but he had nothing to be picked out of any of his pockets except that under his very nose, and which contained his visible white handker- chief 1 This over, he struck into Leicester Square, where (he was in luck that night) hurrying up to another crowd at the further end, he found a man preaching with infinite energy. Mr. Titmouse looked on, and listened for two or three minutes with apparent interest ; and then, with a counten- ance in which pity struggled with contempt, muttered, loud enough to be heard by all near him, " Poor devil !" and walked off. He had not pro- ceeded many steps, before it occurred to him that a friend — one Bolaert Huckaback, much such another one as himself — lived in one of the narrow, dingy streets in the neighborhood. He determined to take the chance of his being at home, and if so, of spending the remainder of the evening with him. Huckaback's quarters were in the same ambitious proximity to heaven as his own, the only difference being, that they were a trifle cheaper and larger. He answered the door himself, having only the moment before returned from his Sunday's excursion — i. e. the Jack Straw's Castle Tea- Grardens at Highgate, where, in company with several of his friends, he had, he said, " spent a jolly afternoon." He ordered in a glass of negus from the adjoining public-house, after some discussion, which ended in an agreement that he should stand treat that night, and Titmouse on the ensu- ing Sunday night. As soon as the negus had arrived, accompanied by two sea-biscuits, which looked so hard and hopeless that they would have made the nerves thrill within the teeth of him that meditated attempting to mas- ticate them, the candle was lit ; Huckaback handed a cigar to his friend ; and both began to puff away, and chatter pleasantly concerning the many events and scenes of the day. "Anything stirring in to-day's ' Flash ?' " inquired Titmouse, as his eye caught sight of a copy of that interesting and instructive Sunday news- paper, the " Sunday Pxash," which Huckaback had hired for the evening from the news-shop on the ground-floor of his lodgings. Mr. Huckaback removed his cigar from his mouth, and holding it be- tween the first and second fingers of his right hand, in a knowing style, with closed eyes and inflated cheeks, very slowly ejected the smoke which he had last inhaled, and rose and got the paper from the top of the drawers. " Here's a mark of a beastly porter-pot that's been set upon it, by all that's disgusting ! It's been at the public-house. Too bad of Mrs. Coggs to send it me up in this state !" said he, handling it as though its touch 26 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. were contamination. (He was to pay only a halfpenny for the perusal of it.) " Faugh 1 how it stinks !" " What a horrid beast she must be 1" exclaimed Titmouse, after, in like manner as his friend, expelling his mouthful of smoke. "But, since better can't be had, let's hear what news is in it. Demmee 1 it's the only paper published, in my opinion, that's worth reading. Any fights astir- ring?" " Haven't come to them yet ; give a man time, Titty," replied Hucka- back, fixing his feet on another chair, and drawing the candle closer to the paper. " It says, by the way, that the Duke of Dunderhead is cer- tainly making up to Mrs. Thumps, the rich cheesemonger's widow; — a precious good hit that, isn't it? You know the Duke's as poor as a rat." "Oh! thath no news. It's been in the papers for I don't know how long. Egad, 'twill quite set him up — and no mistake. Seen the Duke ever?" " Ye-es. Oh, several times 1" replied Huckaback. This was a lie, and he knew that it was. "Deuced good-looking, I suppose?" " Why, middling ; I should say middling. Know some that needn't fear to compare with him, eh ! Tit ?" and Huckaback winked archly at his friend, meaning him, however, to consider the words as applicable to the speaker. "Ah, ha, ha ! a pretty joke ! But come, that's a good chap — ^you can't be reading both of these two sheets at once — give us the other sheet, and set the candle right betwixt us. Come, Mr's the word among genls, you know." Huckaback, thus appealed to, did as his friend requested ; and the two gentlemen read and smoked for some minutes in silence. " Well, I shall spell over the advertisements now," said Titmouse, very emphatically ; " there's a pretty lot of them — and I've read everything else — (though precious little there is, here, besides) — so, here goes. One mmj hear of a prime situation, you know, and I'm quite sick of Tag-rag." Another interval of silence ensued. Huckaback was deep in the ghastly but instructive details of a trial for murder ; and Titmouse, after having glanced listlessly over the entertaining first sheet of advertisements, was on the point of laying down his half of the paper, when he suddenly started in his chair, turned very pale, and stammered, " Hollo ! hollo, Hucky ! — Why " "What's the matter. Tit? eh?" inquired Huckaback greatly aston- ished. For a moment Titmouse made no answer, but, dropping his cigar, fixed his eyes intently on the paper, which began to rustle in his trembling hands. What occasioned this outbreak, with its subsequent agitation, was the following advertisement, which appeared in the most conspicuous part of the "Sunday Flash" :— "Next of Kin— Important.— The next of kin, if any such there be, of Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse, formerly of Whitehaven, cordwainer, TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 27 and who died somewhere about the year 1793, in London, may hear of something of the gkeatest possible impoktancb to himself, or herself, or themselves, by immediately communicating with Messrs. Quibk, Gammon & Snap, Solicitors, Saffron Hill. No time is to be lost. 9th July, 18 — . The third adverlisemerU." " By George 1 Here is a go 1" exclaimed Huckaback, almost as much flustered as Titmouse, over whose shoulder he had hastily read the above paragraph. "We aren't dreaming, Hucky — are we?" inquired Titmouse, faintly, his eyes still glued to the newspaper. " No — ^by George 1 Never was either of us fellows so precious wide awake in our lives before ! that I'll answer for !" Titmouse sat still, and turned paler even than before. " Read it up, Huck 1 Let's hear how it sounds, and then we shall believe it !" said he, handing the paper to his friend. Huckaback read it aloud. "It sounds like something, don't it?" inquired Titmouse, tremulously, his color a little returning. " Uncommon ! If this isn't something, then there's nothing in anything any more !" replied Huckaback solemnly, at the same time emphatically slapping the table. " No ! 'Pon my soul I but do you really think so ?" said Titmouse, seek- ing still forther confirmation than he had yet derived from his senses of sight and hearing. "I do, by jingo I" repeated Huckaback. "What a go it is! Well, my poor old mother used to say, ' Depend upon it, wonders never will cease ;' and curse me if she ever said a truer word I" Titmouse again read over the advertisement ; and then picking up and relighting his fragment of cigar, pufied earnestly in silence for some moments. " Such things never happens te such a poor devil of a chap as me !" ex- claimed Huckaback, with a sigh. " What is in the wind, I wonder ?" muttered Titmouse. " Who knows — hem I — ^who knows ? But now, reallif' he paused, and once more read over the pregnant paragraph. "It can't— no, curse me, it can't be " he added, looking very serious. " What, Tit ? What can't be ?" interrupted Huckaback, eagerly. "Why, I've been thinking— but what do you think, eh?— it can't hardly be a cursed hoax of the chaps in the premises at Tag-rag's ?" " Bo ! Is there any of 'em flush enough of money to do the thing ? And how should they think it would ever come to be seen by you ? Then, besides, there isn't a chap among them that could come up to the compos- ing a piece'bf composition like that — no, not for all a whole year's salary —there isn't, by George ! You and I couldn't do it, and, of course, they couldn't !" " Ah ! I don't know," said Titmouse, doubtfully. " But— honor !— do you really think there is anything in it ?" " I do — I'm blowed if I don't. Tit 1" was the sententious answer. 28 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. "Tol de rol, de rol, de rol, de rol— diddl'em— daddl'em— bang!" almost shouted Titmouse, jumping up, snapping his fingers, and dancing about in a wild ecstasy, which lasted for nearly a minute. " Give me your hand, HuCky," said he presently, almost breathless. " If I am a made man— tol de rol, lol de rol, lol de rol, lol !— you see, Huck !— If I don't give you the handsomest breastpin you ever saw ! No paste ! real diamond! Hurrah! I will, by jingo !" Huckaback grasped and squeezed his hand. " "We've always been friends, Tit— haven't we?" said he, affectionately. " My room won't hold me to-night," continued Titmouse ; "I'm sure it won't. I feel as if I was, aa you may say, swelling all over. I'll walk the streets aU night: I couldn't sleep a wink for the life of me. I'll walk about tiU the shop opens. Oh, faugh ! how nasty ! Confound the shop, and Tag-rag, and everything and everybody in it ! Thirty-five pounds a year ? See if I don't spend as much in cigars the first month." " Cigars ! Is that your go ? Now, I should take lessons in boxing, to begin with. It's a deuced high thing, you may depend upon it, and you can't alogether be fit company for swells without it, Tit. You can't, by Jove !" " Whatever you like, whatever you like, Hucky !" cried Titmouse, add- ing, in a sort of ecstasy, " I'm sorry to say it, but how precious lucky that my father and mother's dead, and that I'm an only child — too-ra-laddy, too-rarladdy !" Here he took such a sudden leap, that I am sorry to say he split his tight trousers very awkwardly ; that sobered him for a moment, while they made arrangements for cobbling it up as well as might be, with a needle and thread which Huckaback always had by him. "We're rather jumping in the dark a bit, aren't we, Tit?" inquired Huckaback, gravely, while his companion was repairing the breach. "Let's look what it aU means — here it is." He read it aloud again — " ' greatest possible importance P — ^what can it mean? Why the deuce couldn't they speak out plainly ?" " What ! in a newspaper ? Lord, Hucky ! how many Titmouses would start up on all sides, if there isn't some already, indeed 1 But I do wonder what ' greatest possible importance' can mean now!" " Some one's left you an awful lot of money, of course " "It's too good to be true " " Or you may have made a srrdte; you a'n't such a bad-looking feUow, when you're dressed as you are now — ^you a'n't indeed, Titty." Mr. Tit- mouse was quite flustered with the mere supposition, and also looked as sheepish as his features would admit of. "E-e-eh, Hucky? how ve-ry silly you are!" he simpered. " Or you may be found out heir to some great property, and all that kind of thing. But when do you intend to go to Messrs. Whaf s-their-name ? I should say, the sooner the better. Come, you've stitched them trousers well enough now ; they'll hold you till you get home ; but you do brace up uncommon tight ! and I'd take off my straps, if I was you. Why shouldn't we go to these gents now ? Ah, here they are — Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, solicitors." TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 29 " I wonder if they're great men ? What'B the use of solicitors ? Did you ever hear of these chaps before ?" " Haven't 1 1 Their names is always in this same paper ; they are every day getting people off out of all kinds of scrapes — they're the chaps I should nat'rally go to if I anyhow got wrong — ahem 1" "But, my dear fellow — Saffron HiU! Low that^devilish low, 'pou my soul ! Never was near it in my life." "But they live there to be near the thieves. Lud, the thieves couldn't do without 'em I But what's that to you I You know ' a very dirty ugly toad has often got a jewel in his belly,' so Shakspeare or some one says. Isn't it enough for you, Tit, if they can make good their advertisement? Let's off, Tit — let's off, I say ; for you mayn't be able to get there to-morrow — your employers " " IVTy employers ! Do you think, Hucky, I'm going back to business after this ?" " Come, come, Titty — ^not so fast. Suppose it all turns out moonshine, after all," quoth Huckaback, seriously. "Lord, but I won't suppose anything of the sort!" said Titmouse, alarm- edly. " It makes me sick to think of nothing coming of it I Let's go off at once, and see what's to be done !" So Huckaback put the newspaper into his pocket, blew out the candle, and the two started on their important errand. It was well that their means had been too limited to allow of their indulging to a greater extent than a glass of port-wine negus (that was the name under which tliey had drunk the "publican' a port" — i. e. a warm sweetened decoction of oak bark, log- wood shavings, and a little brandy) between them ; otherwise, excited as were the feelings of each of them by the discovery of the evening, they must in all probability have been guilty of some piece of extravagance in the streets. As it was, they talked very loudly as they went along, and in a tone of conversation pitched perhaps a little too high for their present cir- cumstances, however in unison it might be with the expected circumstances of one of them. In due time they reached the residence of which they were in search. It was a large house, greatly superior to its dingy neighbors j and on a bright brass plate, a yard long at least, and a foot wide, stood the awe- inspiring words, " Quirk, Gammon & Snap, Solicitoes." " Now, Tit," whispered Huckaback, sifter they had paused for a second or two — " now for it — pluck up a sperrit — ^ring !" " I — -I — 'pon my life — I feel all of a sudden uncommon funky — I think that last cigar of yours wasn't " " Stuff, Tit — ring ! ring away I Faint heart never wins !" "Well, it must be done; so — here goes at any rate!" he replied; and with a short nervous jerk, he caused a startling clatter within, which was so distinctly audible without, that both of them instinctively hemmed, as if to drown the noise, which was so much greater than they had expected. In a very few moments they heard some one undoing the &stenings of the door, and the gentlemen looked at one another with an expression of mingled expectation and apprehension. A little old woman at length, 30 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. with a candle in her hand, retaining the heavy door-chain in its fastening, peered round the edge of the door at them. "Who are you?" she exclaimed, crustily. "Is this Messrs.— What is it, Huck? Oh I Messrs. Quirk & Co.'s?" i;i- quired Titmouse, tapping the end of his cane against hia chin, with a desperate effort to appear at his ease. " Why, Where's your eyes ?" she replied, angrily, " I should think you might have seen what was wrote on the plate — outside there — it's large enough, one should have thought, to be read by them as can read — Is yours Newgate business ? Because if " " We want — Give us the paper, Hucky," he added, addressing his com- panion, who produced it in a moment ; and Titmouse would have proceeded to possess the old lady of all his little heart, when she cut him short by saying, snappishly — " They aren't none on 'em in ; nor never is on Sun- days — so you'll just call to-morrow if you wants 'em. What's your names 7" "Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse," answered that gentleman, with a very par- ticular emphasis on every syllable. " Mr. who f" exclaimed the old woman, opening her eyes, and raising her hand to the back of her ear. Mr. Titmouse repeated his name more loudly and distinctly. " Tippetytippety I— what's that ?" " No, no I" exclaimed Titmouse, peevishly ; " I said, Mr. Tit-el-bat Tit- mouse ! — will that suit you ?" " Tick-a-tick-a-tick ? Well, gracious! if ever I heard such a name. Oh ! I see 1— you're making a fool of me ! Get ofl^ or I'll call a constable in 1 Get along with you, you couple of jail-birds I Is this the way " "I tell you," interposed Mr. Huckaback, angrily, "that this gentleman's name is Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse ; and you'd better take care what you're at, old woman, for we've come on business oi micU consequence /" " I dare say it'll keep, then, tUl to-morrow," she tartly subjoined. The friends consulted for a moment, and then Titmouse asked if he might come in and write a letter to Messrs. Quirk & Co. " No, indeed 1" said she ; "how do I know who you are, or what you'd do 7 There's a public-house close by, where you may write what you like, and bring it here, and put it through that hole into this here letter-box, and they'll get it the first thing in the morning. So that's what you may take away with you !"— with which the complaisant old janitrix shut the door in their faces. "Huck, 'pon my life, I am afraid there's nothing in it," said Titmouse, despondingly, to his friend— both of them remaining rooted to the spot. " Oudacious old toad !" muttered Huckaback, indignantly. " Hucky— I'm sure there's nothing in it 1" exclaimed Titmouse, after a long pause, looking earnestly at his friend, hoping to draw from him a contrary opinion. "I— I own I don't half like the looks of it," replied Huckaback, putting hifl newspaper into hia pocket again; "but we'U try if we can't write a letter to sound 'em, and so far take the old creature's advice. Here's the public-house she told us of. Come, let's see what's to be done !" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 31 Titmouse, greatly depressed, followed his friend ; and they soon provided themselves with two glasses of stout, and after a little difficulty, with imple- ments for writing. That they made good use of their time and materials, let the following epistle prove. It was their joint composition, and here is an exact copy of it : — "To Messrs. Quirk, Gamon and Snapp. "Sib, " Your Names being Put In an Advertisement in This present Sunday Flash, Newspaper of To Day's Date, Mr. T. T. Begs To inform Your re- spectable House I feel Uncommon anxious To speak with them On This irviy interesting sviject, seeing It mentions The Name Of Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse, which Two last Names Of That Deceased Person my Own Name is, which can Any Day (As soon As Possible) call and prove To you, By telling you The Same, truly. He being Engaged in Business During the week Very close (for The Present), 1 hope that If they Have Anything particular To say To Him, they will write To me without The least Delay, and please address T. T., At Tag-rag and Co.'s, No- 375 Oxford Street, Post-Paid, which will insure Its Being duly Taken In By my Employers, and am, " Gents, " Yours to Command,' "TlTTLBBAT TiTMOUSE. "P.S. — My Friend, which Is With me writing This (Mr. Eobert Hucka- back), can prove who I am If necessiated so to do. "N.B. — Shall have no objection to do the Liberal Thing if anything suitable Turns Up Of It. " T. T " (Sunday Evening, 9/7/18—. " Forgot to Say, am The only Child of my Honoured Parents, one of which (my Mother) Died ; before I knew them In Lawful Wedloc, and Was 27 last Birth Day, Never having Seen your Advertisement Till This Night, w"", if Necessary can Prove.)" This perspicuous and truly elegant performance having been thrice sub- jected to the critical examination of the friends (the paragraph concerning Huckaback having been inserted at the instance of that gentleman, who wished to be mixed up from the beginning with so promising an afiair), was then folded up, and directed to " Messrs. Quirk & Co.," a great strag- gling wet wafer having been first put upon it. It was safely deposited, a few minutes afterwards, in the letter-box at Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap's ; and then the two West-End gentlemen hastened away from that truly plebeian part of the town I Under three different gaslights did they stop, take out the newspaper, and spell over the advertisement, by which ingenious processes they at length succeeded in satisfying themselves that there was something in it — a fact of wliich, upon the old woman's shutting the door in their faces, it may be recollected that they had had grievous misgivings. They parted, however, with a considerable abatement of the excitement with which they had set out on their voyage of discovery. 32 TEN THOUSAND A YEAH. CHAPTER III. A SNAKE APPROACHES AN APE; WHICH SIGNIFIES ME. GAMMON'S INTKODTJCTION TO TITMOUSE. ME. TITMOUSE did not, on reaching his room, take off and lay- aside his precious Sunday apparel with his accustomed care and deliberation. On the contrary, he peeled it off; as it were, and threw him- self on the bed as quickly as possible, in order that he might calmly revolve the immense event of the day in his little mind, which it had agitated like a stone thrown into a stagnant pool by the roadside. Oh, how restless was he! — not more so could he have been had he lain between horse-hair sheets. He repeatedly got up and walked about two or three little steps, which were all that his room admitted of. At the very first peep of daylight he started out of bed, got out of his pocket the news- paper which Huckaback had lent him, strove to decipher the advertise- ment, and then sunk into bed again — but not to sleep, until four or five o'clock ; having, nevertheless, to rise at half-past six, to resume his detested duties at Tag-rag & Co.'s, whose shop he assisted in opening at seven o'clock, as usual. When he and his shopmates were sitting together at breakfast, he could not for the life of him help letting out a little, vaguely and mysteriously, about "something that might happen in the course of the day," and thereby succeeded in satisfying his experienced companions that he expected the visit of a policeman, for some affair he had been con- cerned in over night. Well, eight, nine, ten o'clock wore away heavily, and nothing occurred, alas 1 to vary the monotonous duties in which Mr. Titmouse was engaged ; bale after bale, and package after package, he took down and put up again, at the bidding of pretty, capricious customers; silk, satin, bombazines, crapes, muslins, ribbons, gloves, he assisted in dis- playing, disposing of, or replacing as usual ; but it was clear that his powerful understanding could no longer settle itself, as before, upon his responsible and arduous duties. Every other minute he cast a feverish furtive glance towards the door. He almost dropped, at one time, as a postman crossed from the opposite side of the street, as if to enter their shop, then passing on immediately, however, to the next door. Not a person, in short, entered the premises whom he did not scrutinize narrowly and anxiously, but in vain. No ; buying and selling was the order of the day, as usual. Eleven o'clock struck, and he sighed. "You don't seem well," said a. pretty young woman, to whom, in a somewhat absent man- ner, he was exhibiting and describing the qualities of some cambric. "Oh— ye-es, uncommon!" he replied; "never better, ma'am, than when so well employed," accompanying the latter words with what he conceived to be a very arch, but which was in fact a very impudent, look at his fair customer. At that moment a voice called out to him from the further end of the shop, near the door, " Titmouse 1 Wanted !" " Coming !" he shouted, turning white as the cambric he held in his hands, which became suddenly cold, while his heart went thump, thump, as he hastily exclaimed to the astonished lady, " Excuse me, ma'am, if you TEN THOUSAND A YEAH. 33 please, — Jones" (addressing the shopman next him), "will you attend to this lady ?" and he hastened whither he had been called, amidst a prevalent grin and " hem I" from his companions on each side, as he passed along the shop, till he reached the spot where stood the stranger who had in- quired for him. He was of a slight and gentlemanly figure, above the average height. His countenance was very striking ; he was dressed with simplicity — somewhat carelessly, perhaps, and appeared about thirty-six or thirty-seven years of age. He bowed slightly as Titmouse approached him, and an air of serious surprise came over his expressive countenance. "Mr. Titmouse?" he inquired, blandly, but gravely. " Y'e-e-s, sir, at your service," replied Titmouse, trembling involuntarily all over. The stranger again slightly inclined towards him, and — still more slightly — touched his hat, fixing on him at the same time an inquisi- tive, penetrating eye, which really abashed, or rather, perhaps, alarmed him. " You left — you favored us by leaving — a note at our ofiice last night, sir, addressed to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap?" he inquired, lower- ing his voice to a whisper. " Yes, sir, hoping it was no ofience " " Pray, Mr. Titmouse, can we be alone for about five or ten minutes ?" " I — I — don't exactly know, here, sir ; I'm afraid — against the rules of the house — but I'll ask. Here is Mr. Tag-rag. May I step into the cloak- room with this gentleman for a few minutes, sir ?" he continued, address- ing his imperious employer, who, with a pen behind his right ear, his left hand in his breeches pocket, and his right hand impatiently tweedling about his watch-seals, had followed Titmouse, on hearing him inquired for in the manner I have described, and stood at a yard or two's distance, eye- ing the two with a, truculent, dissatisfied look, wondering what on earth any one could want with one of his young men. As Mr. Tag-rag will be rather a prominent figure on my canvas, I may as well here give the reader a slight preparatory sketch of that gentleman. He was about fifty-two years old ; a great tyrant in his little way ; a com- pound of ignorance, selfishness, cant, and conceit. He knew nothing on earth except the price of his goods, and how to make the most of his busi- ness. He was of middle size, with a tendency to corpulence, and almost invariably wore a black coat and waistcoat, a white neck-handkerchief, very primly tied, and gray trousers. He had a dull, gray eye, with white eyelashes and no eyebrows ; a forehead which seemed ashamed of its face, it retreated so far and so abruptly back from it ; his face was pretty deeply pitted with the smallpox ; his nose — or rather semblance of a nose — con- sisted of two great nostrils looking at you — as it were, impudently — out of the middle of his fece ; there was a perfect level space from cheekbone to cheekbone ; his gray whiskers, trimly and closely cut, came in points to each comer of his mouth, which was large, shapeless, and sensual-looking. This may serve, for the present, to give you an idea of the man who had contrived to excite towards himself the hatred and contempt of everybody over whom he had any control — with whom, in fact, he had anything, to do. 34 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. " You know quite well, sir, we never allow anything of the sort," was his short reply, in a very disagreeable tone and manner, to Titmouse's modest request. " May I beg the fevor of a few minutes' private conversation with Mr. Titmouse," said the stranger, politely, " on a matter of the last importance to him ? My name, sir, is Gammon, and I am a solicitor of the firm of Quirk, Gammon & Snap." " Why, sir," answered Tag-rag, some-^hat cowed by the calm and gentle- manly, but at the same time decisive, manner of Mr. Gaijimon, " if s really very inconvenient, and decidedly against the rules of the house, for any of my young men to be absent on business of their own during my business hours ; but, I suppose, what must be must be— I'll give him ten minutes, and he'd better not stay longer," he subjoined fiercely— looking signifi- cantly first at his watch, and then at Titmouse. " If s only for the sake of my other young men, you know, sir. In a large establishment like ours, we're obliged, you know, sir," &c., he added, in a low, cringing tone, deprecatory of the contemptuous air with which he fdi Mr. Gammon was regarding him. That gentleman, with a slight bow, and a sarcastic smile, presently quitted the shop, accompanied by Titmouse, who scarce knew whether his head or his heels were uppermost. " How fe.r do you live from this place, Mr. Titmouse ?" inquired Mr. Gammon, as soon as they had got into the street. " Not four minutes' walk, sir ; but — hem I" he was flustered at the idea of showing so eminent a person into his wretched room — " Suppose we were to step into this tavern here, sir, I daresay they have a room at our service " " FiSLj, allow me to ask, Mr. Titmouse, have you any private papers — family writings, oi things of that sort, at your rooms ?" Titmouse seemed considering. " I — ^I think I have, sir," he replied ; " one or two — ^but they're of no consequence." "Are you a jvdge on that point, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired Mr. Gammon, with a smile ; " pray let us, my dear sir, at once proceed to your rooms — time is very short and valuable. I should vastly like to look at these same insignificant papers of yours." In less than two minutes' further time, Mr. Gammon was sitting at Tit- mouse's little rickety round table, at his lodgings, with a sheet of paper before him, and a small pencil-case in his hand, asking him a number of questions concerning his birth and family connections, and taking down his answers very careftilly. Mr. Titmouse was surprised at the gentleman's knowledge of the family history of the Titmouses. As for papers, &c., Mr. Titmouse succeeded in producing four or five old letters and memoranda from the bottom of his trunk, and one or two entries, in faded ink, on the fly-leaf of a Bible of his father's, which he did not recollect having opened before for very many years, and of which said entries, tUl pressed on the subject by Mr. Gammon, he had been hardly aware of even the existence. "With these several documents Mr. Gammon was so much struck that he TEN TBOVSAND A YEAR. 35 proposed to take them away with him, for better and more leisurely exami- nation, and safer custody, at their office ; but Mr. Titmouse, with a sudden exercise of sense and spirit, significantly hinted at his very recent acquaint- ance with Mr. Gammon, who, he intimated, was, howeyer, at liberty to come and make exact copies of them whenever he pleased, in his (Mr. Titmouse's) presence. " Oh, certainly — yes," replied Mr. Gammon, slightly coloring at the very reasonable distrust implied by this observation ; " I applaud your caution, Mr. Titmouse. By all means keep these documents, and most carefully ; because (I do not say that they are), but it is quite possible that they may become rather valuable — to ymi." " Thank you, sir ; and now, hoping you'll excuse the liberty," said Tit- mouse, with a very anxious air, " I should most uncommonly like to know what all this means — what is to turn up out of it all ?" " The law, my dear sir, is proverbially uncertain " " Oh, Lord ! but the law can surely give one a hint '' "The law never hints," interrupted Mr. Gammon impressively, with a bland smile, " Well, then, how did you come, sir, to have a hint that there ever was such a person as Mr. Gabriel Titmouse, my father ? And what can come from him, seeing he was only a bit of a shoemaker — unless he's heir to something ?" "Ah, yes — exactly ; those are — or I ought to say, perhaps, may possibly become — ^very interesting questions, Mr. Titmouse — very " " Yes, sir ; and them and many more I was going to ask long ago, but I saw you were " "Sir," quoth Gammon, suddenly, having looked at his watch, "I perceive that we have positively been absent from your place of business nearly an hour, your employers wiU be getting rather impatient." "Meaning no offence, sir," replied Titmouse, somewhat vehemently; "bother their impatience! Pm impatient, I assure you, to know what all this means. Come, sir, 'pon my life I've told you everything, and you've told me nothing. It isn't quite fair." "Why, certainly, you see, Mr. Titmouse," said Gammon, with an agree- able smile (it was that smile of his which had been the making of Mr. Gammon), "it is only candid in me to acknowledge that your curiosity is perfectly reasonable, and your frankness very obliging ; and I see no diffi- culty in admitting at once that I have had a motive " "Yes, sir, of course you had; and all that — I know, sir," hastily interrupted Titmouse, but without irritating or disturbing the placid speaker. "And that we waited with some anxiety for the result of our advertise- ment " "Ah, you can't escape from that, you know, sir !" interposed Titmouse, with a confidential air. "But it is a maxim with us, my dear sir, never to be premature in any- thing, especially when it may be — very prejudicial; you've really no idea, my dear Mr. Titmouse, of the world of mischief that is often done by pre- 86 TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. cipitancy in legal matters ; and in the present stage of the business— the present stage, my dear sir— I really do see it necessary not to— do anything premature, and without consulting my partners." "Law, sir, what does all that mean? I can't make head nor taU of it," exclaimed Titmouse, getting more and more irritated and impatient as he reflected on the length of his ahsence from Tag-rag & Co.'s. " I quite feel for your anxiety, so perfectly natural," replied Gammon, feelingly, " Oh, dear sir ! if you'd only tell me the hast bit " " If, my dear sir, I were to disclose just now the exact object we had in inserting that advertisement in the papers- " " How did you come to know of it at all, sir ? Come, there can't be any harm in telling me that, anyhow " " Not the least, my dear sir. It was in the course of business — ^iu the course of business." "Is it money that's been left me — or — anything of that sort?" " It quite pains me, I assure you, Mr. Titmouse, to suppose that our hav- ing put this advertisement into the papers may have misled you, and excited false hopes — I think, by the way"^ — added Gammon suddenly, as something occurred to him of their previous conversation, which he was not quite sure of — " you told me that that Bible had been given you by your father ?" " Oh, yes, sir ! yes — no doubt of it ; surely that can't signify, seeing he's dead, and I'm his only son ?" asked Titmouse, quickly and eagerly. " Oh, 'tis only a circumstance — a mere circumstance ; but in business, yon know, Mr. Titmouse, every little helps — and you really, by the way, have no recollection of your mother, Mr. Titmouse ?" " No, sir ; I said so. And — meaning no offence, sir — I can't abide being put off in this kind of way, I must own. See what I have told you — you've told me nothing at all. I hope you haven't been only making me a cat's-paw of? 'Pon my soul, I hate being made a cat's-paw of, sir." "Good heavens, Mr. Titmouse! how can you imagine it? Matters in some degree connected with one or two former members of your family, are at this moment the object of some little of our anxiety " " Not meaning it rudely, sir, please to tell me at once, plainly, am I to be the better for anything you're now about, or was that advertisement all fudge, and only to serve somebody else?" "That may or may not be, sir," answered Mr. Gammon, in the same imperturbable manner, drawing on his gloves, and rising from his chair. " In justice to yourself, and other parties concerned " "Oh I Whyl Is anybody to share in it?" exclaimed Titmouse, alarmedly. "I am sure,'' said Gammon, with a very digniiied bearing, "that you will give us credit for consulting your best interests, if they should prove to be in any degree concerned in our present inquiries ! We should, in that event, sincerely desire to advance your best interests. But — it is really," looking at his watch, "upwards of an hour since we quitted your place of business,— -I fear I shall get into disgrace with that respectable gentle- TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 37 man, your employer. "Will you favor us with a call at our office to- morrow night, when the business of the day is over ? When do you quit at night?" "About half-past nine o'clock, sir ; but really — to-morrow night I Couldn't I come to-night, sir ?" " Not to-night, I fear, my dear sir. We have a veiy important engage- ment. Let us say to-morrow night, at a quarter-past ten — shall we say that hour ?" inquired Mr. Gammon, with an imperative smile. " Well, sir, if not before — yes — I'll be with you. But I must say " quoth Titmouse, with a sulky disconcerted air. " Grood-day, Mr. Titmouse," said Mr. Gammon — they were by this time in Oxford street again. " Good-day, my dear sir — good-day — to-morrow night, as soon after ten as possible — eh ? Good-bye." This was all that Mr. Titmouse could get out of Mr. Gammon, who, hail- ing a coach off the stand beside them, got in, and it was soon making its way eastward. What a miserable mixture of doubts, hopes and fears, had he left Titmouse 1 He felt as if he were a squeezed orange ; he had some- how or other been induced to tell eveiytliing he knew about himself, and had got nothing in return out of the smooth, imperturbable, impenetrable Mr. Gammon, but empty civilities. " Lord, Lord !" thought Titmouse, as Mr. Gammon's coach turned the comer ; "what would I give to know half about it that that gent knows I But Mr. Tag-rag I by Jove 1 what will he say ? It's struck twelve. I've been more than an hour away — and he gave me ten minutes I Sha'n't I catch it?" And he did. -Almost the very first person whom he met, on entering the shop, was his amiable employer ; who, plucking his watch out of his fob, and looking furiously at it, motioned the trembling Titmouse to follow him to the further end of the long shop, where there happened to be then no customers. " Is this your ten minutes, sir, eh ?" " I am sorry " " Where may you have been, sir, all this while ?" " With that gentleman, sir, and I really did not know " "You didn't know, sir I Who cares what you know, or don't know? This, at any rate, you know — that you ought to have been back fifty-five minutes ago, sir. You do, sir! Isn't your time my property, sir ? Don't I pay for it, sir ? Don't I feed you, sir ? An hour I — in the middle of the day 1 I've not had such a thing happen this five years 1 I'll stop it out of your salary, sir." Titmouse did not attempt to interrupt him. "And pray what have you been gossiping about, sir, in this disgraceful manner ?" " Something that he wanted to say to me, sir." " You low puppy 1 — do you suppose I don't see your impertinence ? I insist, sir, on knowing what all this gossiping with that fellow, during my service hours, has been about ?" " Then you won't know, sir, that's flat !" replied Titmouse doggedly, and desperately too, returning to his usual station behind the counter. 88 TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. "I Bha'ritll" exclaimed Mr. Tag-rag, almost aghast at the presumption of his inferior. " No, sir, you sha'n't know a single word about it." " Sha'n't know a single word about it 1 Very good, sir 1 Do you know whom you're talking to, sir ? Do you really know in whose presence you are, sir ?" inquired Mr. Tag-rag, nearly trembling with rage. " Mr. Tag-rag, I presume, of the firm of Tag-rag & Co.," replied Tit- mouse, looking him ftill in the face. One or two of his compaiiious near him almost turned pale at the audacity he was displaying. "And who are you, sir, that dare to presume to bandy words with MB, sir ?" inquired Tag-rag, his deeply pitted feioe having gone quite white, and his whole body quivering with rage. "Tittlebat Titmouse, at your service," was the answer, in a glib tone, and with a sufficiently saucy air ; for Titmouse then felt that he had passed the Kubicon. " You heard that, I hope ?" inquired Tag-rag with forced calmness, of a pale-faced young man, the nearest to him. " Ye-es, sir," was the meekly reluctant answer. "This day month you leave, sir!" said Mr. Tag-rag, solemnly — as if conscious that he was passing a sort of sentence of death upon the presump- tuous delinquent. " Very well, Mr. Tag-rag — anything that pleases you pleases your humble servant. I vnU go this day month, and welcome. I've long wished — and now, p'r'aps," he added, significantly — " it's rather convenient for me, than otherwise — -" " Then you sha'n't leave, sir," said Tag-rag, furiously. " But I will, sir. You've given me warning ; and, if you haven't, now I give you warning," replied Titmouse ; turning, however, very pale, and experiencing a certain sudden sinking of the heart — for this was a serious and most unlooked-for event, and for a while put out of his head all the exciting thoughts of the last few hours. He had by-and-by enough to bear. What with the delicate raillery and banter of his refined companions for the rest of the day, and the galling tyranny of Mr. Tag-rag (who dogged him all day, setting him about the most menial and troublesome offices he could, and constantly saying mortifying things to him before customers), and the state of miserable suspense in which Mr. Gammon had thought fit to leave him, — I say that surely all this was enough for him to bear, with- out having to encounter, at night, as he did, on his return to his lodgings, his blustering landlady, who vowed that if she sold him out and out she would be put ofi' no longer, — and his pertinacious and melancholy tailor, who, with sallow, unshaven face, told him of five children at home, all ill of the smallpox, and his wife in an hospital — and he implored a payment on account. This sufferer succeeded in squeezeing out of Titmouse seven shillings on account, and his landlady extorted ten ; which staved off a dis- tress — direful word I — ^for some week or two longer ; and so they left him in the possession of eight shillings or so, to last till next quarter-day— six weeks offi He sighed heavily, barred his door, and sat down opposite his little table, on which was nothing but a solitary thin candle, and on which TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 39 his eyes rested unconsciously, till the stench of it, burning right down into the socket, roused him from his wretched reverie. Then he unlocked his box, and took out his Bible and the papers which Had been produced to Mr. Gammon, and gazed at them with intense but unproductive scrutiny. Unable to conjecture what bearing they could have upon himself or his fortunes, he hastily replaced them in his box, threw off his clothes, and flung himself on his bed, to pass a far more dismal night than he had known for years. He ran the gauntlet at Messrs. Tag-rag & Co.'s all Tuesday, as he had done on the day preceding. One should have supposed that when his com- panions beheld him persecuted by their common tyrant, whom they all equally hated, they would have made common cause with their suffering companion, or at all events given no countenance to his persecution ; yet it was far otherwise. Without stopping to analyze the feeling which pro- duced it (and which the moderately reflective reader may easily analyze for himself if so disposed), I am grieved to have to say, that when aU the young men saw that Tag-rag would be gratified by their " euMing" poor Titmouse, who, with all his little vanities, fooleries, and even selfishness, had never personally offended or injured any of them, they did "cut" him ; and when Tag-rag observed it, his mind was unspeakably gratified with what they had done : and he spoke to all of them with unusual blandness ; to the sinner. Titmouse, with augmented bitterness and sternness. CHAPTEE IV. QTJIKK, GAMMON & SNAP, AND MU. TITMOUSE, WHO ASTONISHES THEM WITH A TASTE OP HIS QUAMTY. A FEW minutes after ten o'clock that night, a gentle ringing at the bell of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap's office announced the arrival of poor Titmouse. The door was quickly opened by a very fashion- ably-dressed clerk, who seemed in the act of quitting for the night. " Ah— Mr. Titmouse, I presume ?" he inquired, with a kind of deference in his manner to which Titmouse had never been accustomed. "The same, sir— Tittlebat Titmouse." " Oh ! allow me, sir, to show you in to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap ; I know they're expecting to see you. It's not often they're here so late I Walk in, sir " With this he led the way to an inner room, and open- ing a green-baize door in the further side of it, announced and showed in Mr. Titmouse, and left him— sufficiently flustered. Three gentlemen were sitting at a large table, on which he saw, by the strong but circumscribed light of two shaded candlesticks, were lying a great number of papers and parchments. The three gentlemen rose when he entered, Mr. Quirk and Mr. Snap involuntarily starting on first catching sight of the figure of Tit- mouse : Mr. Gammon came and shook hands with him. 40 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. "Mr. Titmouse," said he, with a very polite air, "let me introduce you to Mr. Quirk" — ^(thia was the senior partner, a short, stout elderly gentle- man, dressed in black, with a shining bald crown fringed with white hair, and sharp black eyes, and who looked very earnestly, nay, with even a kind of dismay, at him) — " and Mr. Snap" — (this was the junior partner, having recently been promoted to be such after ten years' service in the office, as managing clerk : he was about thirty, particularly well dressed, slight, active and with a face like a terrier — m hard, sharp and wiry.) Of Mr. Gammon himself, I have already given the reader a slight notion. He appeared altogether a different style of person from both his partners. He was of most gentlemanly person and bearing — and at once acute, cautious, and insinuating — with a certain something about the eye, which had from the first made Titmouse feel uneasy on looking at him. " Take a seat, sir," said Mr. Quirk, rising and placing a chair for him, on which he sat down, they resuming theirs. " You are punctual, Mr. Titmouse I" exclaimed Mr. Gammon, kindly ; "more so than, I fear, you were yesterday, after our long interview, eh? Pray what did that worthy person, Mr. Rag-bag — or whatever his name is — say on your return ?" " Say, gents ?" — (he tried to clear his throat, for he spoke somewhat more thickly, and his heart beat more perceptibly, than usual) — "meaning no offence— I'm ruined by it, and no mistake 1 Clean ruined, gents, I assure you I" " Euined ! I'm sorry to hear it," interposed Mr. Gammon, with a con- cerned air. " I am ruined, sir, and it's no lie I'm telling you ! Such a towering rage as Mr. Tag-rag has been in ever since ! and he's given me warning to go on the 10th of next month." He thought he observed a faint smile flit over the faces of all three. " He has, indeed 1" " Bless me, Mr. Titmouse ! Did he allege any reason for dismissing you ?" keenly inquired Mr. Quirk. "Yes, sir." " What might it have been ?" " Stopping out longer than I was allowed, and refiosing to tell him what this gentleman and I had been talking about." "Don't think that'll do; sure it won't 1" briskly exclaimed Mr. Snap; " no just cause for dismissal that," and he jumped up, whisked down a book from the shelves behind him, and eagerly turned over the leaves. "Never mind that now, Mr. Snap," said Mr. Quirk, rather petulantly; " surely we have other matters to talk about to-night 1" "Asking pardon, sir, but I think it does matter to me, sir," interposed Titmouse ; "for on the 10th of next month I'm a beggaji>— being next door to it now." " Not quite, we trust," said Mr. Gammon, with a benignant smile. " But Mr. Tag-rag said he'd make me as good as one." " That's evidence to show maUce," again eagerly interjected Mr. Snap, who was a second time tartly rebuffed by Mr. Quirk ; even Mr. Gammon turning towards him with a surprised—" Eeally, Mr. Snap !" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 41 "So Mr. Tag-rag said he'd make you a beggar," inquired Mr. Quirk, rubbing his chia with his right hand, and evidently deep in thought. " He vowed he would, sir ! He did, as true as the gospel, sir." "Ha, ha, hal" laughed Mr. Quirk and Mr. Gammon— but such a laugh — ^not careless or hearty, but subdued, and with a dash of deference in it. "Well, it perhaps may not signify much, by that timej" said Mr. Quirk, and laughed again, followed by the soft laugh of Mr. Gammon, and a kind of sharp quick sound, like a bark, from Mr. Snap. "But, g«nts, you'll excuse me if I say I think it does signify to me, and a'n't any laughing matter by any means !" quoth Titmouse, earnestly, and coloring with anger. " Without being rude, I'd rather come to business, if there's any to be done, without so much laughing at one." "Laughing at youl my dear sir, — no, no!" exclaimed all three in a breath — " laughing wiih you," said Mr. Quirk. " By the time you mention, you may perhaps be able to laugh at Mr. Eag-bag, and everybody else, for " [" No use mincing matters ?" he whispered, in a low tone, to Mr. Gam- mon, who nodded, but in apparently very reluctant acquiescence, and fixed his eyes earnestly on Titmouse.] " I really think we are warranted, sir, in preparing you to expect by that time — that is, you will understand, sir, if our efforts are successful in your behalf, and if you yield yourself implicitly in all things to our guid- ance — that is ahsolutely essential — a prospect — we say at present, you will observe, only a prospect — of a surprising and splendid change in your cir- cumstances !" Titmouse began to tremble violently, his heart beat rapidly, and his hands were bedewed with a cold moisture. " I hear, gents," said he, thickly ; and he also heard a faint ringing in his ears. "It's not impossible, sir, in plain English," continued Mr. Quirk, him- self growing a little excited with the important communication which trembled on the tip of his tongue, " tliat you may at no distant time (if you really turn out to be the person we are in search of) be put into possession of an estate of somewhere about Ten Thousand a year." The words seemed to have struck Titmouse blind, as he saw nothing for some moments ; then everything appeared to be swimming around him, and he felt a sort of faintness or sickness stealing over him. They had hardly been prepared for their communications aiFecting their little visitor so powerfully. Mr. Snap hastened out, and in again with a glass of water, and the earnest attentions of the three soon restored Mr. Titmouse to his senses. It was a good while, however, before he could appreciate the little conversation which they now and then addressed to him, or estimate the fuU importance of the astounding intelligence which Mr. Quirk had just communicated. "Beg pardon, but may I make free to ask for a little brandy and cold water, gents ? I feel all over in a kind of tremble," said he, some little time afterwards. "Yes, by all means, Mr. Titmouse," replied Mr. Quirk. "Mr. Snap, wUl you be kind enough to order Betty to bring in a glass of cold brandy- and-water from the Jolly Thieves, next door?" Snap shot out, gave the 42 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. order, and returned in a trice. The old woman in a few minutes' time followed, with a large tumbler of dark brandy-and-water, quite hot, for which Mr. Gammon apologized ; but Mr. Titmouse said he preferred it so, and soon addressed himself to the inspiriting mixture. It quickly mani- fested its influence, reassuring him wonderfully. As he sat sipping it, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap being engaged in an earnest conversation, of which he could not comprehend a word, he had leisure to look about him, and observed that there was lying before them a large sheet of paper, at which they all of them often and earnestly looked, filled with marks, thus, — with writing at the ends of each of them, and round and square figures. When he saw them all bending over and scrutinizing this mysterious object, it puzzled him (many a better head than his has a pedigree puzzled before) sorely, and he began to suspect it was a sort of conjuring paper 1 " I hope, gents, that paper's s31 right — eh ?" said he, supported by the brandy, which he had nearly finished. They turned towards him with a smile of momentary surprise, and then, — " We hope so — a vast deal depends on it," said Mr. Quirk, looking over his glasses at Titmouse. Now, what he had hinted at, so far as he could venture to do so, was a thought that glanced across his as yet unsettled brain, that there might have been invoked more than mere earthly assist- ance; but he prudently pressed the matter no further — ^that was all Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap's look-out ; he had been no party to anything of the sort, nor would he knowingly. He also observed the same sheets of paper, written all over, which Mr. Gammon had fiUed up at his (Tit- mouse's) room the night before, and several new, and old-looking, papers and parchments. Sometimes they addressed questions to him, but found it somewhat difficult to keep his attention up to anything that was said to him, for the wild visions which were chasing one another through his heated brain, the passage of which said visions was not a little accelerated by the large tumbler of brandy-and-water which he had just taken. " Then, in point of fact," said Mr. Quirk, as Messrs. Gammon and Snap simultaneously sat down, after having been for some time standing poring over the paper before Mr. Quirk. " This Tittlebat Titmouse's title is clear from that point. That's it — eh. Gammon 1" " Precisely so," said Mr. Gammon, calmly. "To be sure," confidently added Snap, who, having devoted himself exclusively all his life to the very sharpest practice of the criminal law, knew about as much of real property law as a snipe ; but it would not have done to appear ignorant, or taking no part in the matter, in the presence of the heir-at-law, and the future great client of the house. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 43 "Well, Mr. Titmouse," at length said Mr. Quirk, with a sort of grunt, laying aside his glasses, " if you turn out to be liie Titmouse we have been speaking of, you are likely, through otjr immense exertions, to become one of the luckiest men that ever lived 1 We may be mistaken, but it appears to us that we shaU by-aud-by be able to put you into possession of a very fine estate in Yorkshire, worth some £10,000 or £12,000 a year at the least 1" " You — don't — say — so 1" exclaimed Titmouse, elevating his hands and opening his eyes with amazement. "Oh, gents, I do believe we're all dreaming ! Is it all true, indeed ?" " It is, Mr. Titmouse, and we are very proud and happy indeed to be the honored instruments of establishing your rights, my dear sir," said Mr. Gammon, in a most impressive manner. " Then all the money that's been spent this ten or twelve years has been my money, has it ?" "ffw$ are right, it is undoubtedly as you say," answered Mr. Quirk, giving a quick apprehensive glance at Mr. Gammon. " Then, there'll be a jolly reckoning for some one, shortly — eh ? My stars 1 I hope he can cash up." "My dear Mr. Titmouse," said Mr. Gammon, gravely, "you have no more than a just regard for your own interests. There vrUl be a reckoning, and a very terrible one, ere long, for somebody ; but we've a vast deal to go through, and a great sum of money must be spent before we come to dis- cuss that matter. Only let us have the unspeakable happiness of seeing you once fairly in possession of your estates, and our office shall know no rest till you have got all you may be entitled to, even to the uttermost farthing I" "Oh, never fear our letting them rest!" said Mr. Quirk, judiciously accommodating himself to the taste and apprehension of his excited auditor. " Those that must give up the goose, must give up the giblets also — ^ha, ha, ha!" Messrs. Gammon and Snap echoed the laugh — ^but how differently ! — duly tickled with the joke of the head of the firm. " Ha, ha, ha !" laughed Mr. Titmouse, immensely excited by the con- joint influence of the brandy and the news of the night ; " capital ! capital ! hurrah I Such goings on there will be ! You're all of the right sort, gents, I seel 'Pon my Ufe, law forever! There's nothing like it. Let's all shake hands, gents 1 Come, if you please, all together ! — all friends to- night !" And the excited little fellow grasped each of the three readily- proffered right hands of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon . Situation in Tottenham C Road) TEN TBOUSAND A YEAR. 77 Huckaback which is his true name it was an audacious thing, and have given him such a Precious Good hiding last Night as you never saw when on his Bendid Knees He asked the pardon of your Eespectable House, say8 nothing of Me w"* w'' not allow because I said I would Not Forgive Him because he had not injured me : But you, w' I wonder at his Impu- dence in Calling on Prpfessional Gents like ,you, if I get the Estate shall never cease to Think well of you and mean While how full of Trouble I am Often Thinking Of Death which is the End of Every Thing And then in that Case who will the Property Go to Seeing I Leave never a Brother or Sister Behind me. And Therefore Them That w^ Get it I Feel Sure of w* Not do So well by you (if You will Only believe Me) So Gents. This is All at present That I will Make so Bold to trouble you With About my Unhappy Affairs Only to say That am used most Intolerably Bad now In The Shop quite Tyranicall And Mr. Tag-Bag as Set Them All Against Me and I sliaU Never Get Another Situat" for want of a Char' which he will give me says noth* at Present of the Sort of Victules w"" give me Now to Eat Since Monday last, For Which am Sure the Devil must have Come In to That Gentleman (Mr. Tag-rag, he was only himself in a Situation in Holborn once, getts the Business by marrys the widow w"" wonder At for he is nothing Particular to Look At). I am y" " Humbly to Command Till Death, always Humbly Begging pardon for the bad Conduct w"" was guilty of when In Liquor Especially On An Empty Stomach, Having Taken Nothing all that Day excepting what I could not Eat. Tour's most Eesp? "Tittlebat Titmouse. " P.S. — Will Bring That young Man with Tears In his Eyes to Beg y' pardon Over again If You Like w"" will Solemnly Swear if Eequired That he did It all of His own Head And that Have given It him For it in the Way That is Written Above And humbly Trust You Will make Me So happy Once more by writing To Me (if it is only a Line) To say You Have Thought No More of it. T. T. No. 9 Closet C Oxford Street. 14/7/18—" This exquisitely skillful epistle might indeed have brought tears into Mr. Quirk's eyes, if he had been «sed to the melting mood, which he was not ; having never been seen actually to shed a tear but once, when five- sixths of his little bill of costs (£196 15s. 4d.) were taxed off in an action on a Bill of Exchange for £13. As it was, he tweedled the letter about in his hands for about five minutes, in a musing mood, and then stepped with it into Mr. Gammon's room. That gentleman took the letter with an air of curiosity, and read it over ; at every sentence (if indeed a sentence there was in it) bursting into soft laughter. " Ha, ha, ha !" he laughed on concluding it ; "a comical gentleman, Mr. Titmouse, upon my honor." "Funny — isn't it rather?" interposed Mr, Quirk, standing with his hands fumbling about in his breeches' pockets, " What a crawling, despicable little rascal ! ha, ha, ha !" 78 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. "Why — Idoti't quite say that, either," quoth Quirk, doubtingly ; °"I — don't exactly look at it in that light." " My dear sir 1" exclaimed Gammon, leaning back in his chair, and laughing rather heartily (at least for him). " You can't leave off that laugh of yours," said Quirk, a little tartly ; "but I must say I don't see anything in the letter to laugh at so particu- larly. It is written in a most respectful manner, and shows a proper feel- ing towards the house." "Ay, see how he speaks of me /" interrupted Gammon, with such a smile. "And doesn't he speak so of me? and all of us?" " He'll let the house tread on him till he can tread on the house, I dare say." " But you must own, Mr. Gammon, it shows we've licked him into shape a bit— eh?" " Oh, it's a little vile creeping reptile now, and so it will be to the end of the chapter — of our proceedings ; and when we've dome everything-^ really, Mr. Quirk ! if one were apt to lose one's temper, it would be to see such a thing as that put into possession of such a fortune." " That may be, Mr. Gammon ; but I really — hem ! — trust — I've — a higher feeling 1 To right — the injured " He could get no further. " Hem I" exclaimed Gammon. The partners smiled at one another. A touch, or an attempted touch at dmnterestedness I — and at Quirk's time of life ! "But he's now in a humor for training, at all events — ^iSn't he?" ex- claimed Quirk— "we've something now to go to work upon — ^gradually." "Isn't that a leaf out of my book, Mr. Quirk? — isn't that exactly what " "Well, well — what does it signify?" interrupted Quirk, rather petu- lantly — "I've got a crotchet that'll do for us, yet, about the matter of law, and make all right and tight — so I'm going to Mortmain." " I've got a little idea of my own of that sort, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon ; " I've got an extract from Co-Litt — . I can't imagine how either of them could have missed it ; and, as Frankpledge dines with me to-day, we shall talk it all over. But, by the way, Mr. Quirk, I should say, with all defer- ence, that we'll take no more notice of this fellow tiU we've got some screw tight enough " " Why — all that may be very well ; but you see. Gammon, the fellow seems the real heir, after all — and if he don't get it, tjo one cam, ; and if he don't— ice don't I eh?" " There's a very great deal of force in that observation, Mr. Quirk — it gives one another view of the subject!" — said Gammon, emphatically: and, tolerably well pleased with one another, they parted. If Quirk might be compared to an old file, Gammon was the ail ! — so they got on, in the main, very well together. It hardly sig-nifies what was the result of their interviews with their two conveyancers. The two partners met the next morning on ordinary business ; and as each made no allusions whatever to the "crotchet" of the day before, it may be safely inferred that each had been satisfied by his conveyancer of having found out a mare's nest. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 79 "I think, by the way," said Mr. Gammon to Mr. Quirk, before they parted on the previous evening, " it may be as well, all things considered, to acknowledge the receipt of the fellow's note— eh? Can't do any harm, you know, and civility costs nothing — hem I" " The very thing I was thinking o^" replied Quirk, as he always did, on hearing any suggestion from Mr. Gammon. So by that nighf s post was despatched (post-paid) the following note to Mr. Titmouse : — " Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap have the pleasure of acknowledging the receipt of Mr. Titmouse'.s polite letter of last night's date ; and earnestly beg that he will not distress himself about the little incident that occurred at their office on Tuesday night, and which they assure him they have quite forgotten. They made all allowances, however their feelings suffered at the time. They beg Mr. T. will give them credit for not losing sight of his interests, to the best of their ability ; obstructed as they are, however, by numerous serious difficulties. If they should be hereafter overcome, he may rest assured of their promptly communicating with him ; and till then they trust Mr. T. will not inconvenience himself by calling on, or writing to them. "Sapteon Hill, Jinly IS, 18—. "P. S. — Messrs. Q. G. & S. regret to hear that any unpleasantness has arisen (Gammon could hardly write for laughing) between Mr. Titmouse and his friend Mr. Hicklebagle, who, they assure him, mani- fested a very warm interest in behalf of Mr. T., and conducted himself with the greatest propriety on the occasion of his calling upon Messrs. Q. G. & S. They happened at that moment to be engaged in matters of the highest importance, which will, they trust, explain any appear- ance of abruptness they might have exhibited towards that gentleman. Perhaps Mr. Titmouse will be so obliging as to intimate as much to Mr. Hickerbag." There was an obvious reason for this polite allusion to Huckaback. Grammou thought it very possible that that gentleman might be in Mr. Titmouse's confidence, and exercise a powerful influence over him here- after; and that influence Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap might find it well worth their while to secure beforehand. The moment that Titmouse, with breathless haste, had read over this mollifying document, which, being directed to his lodgings correctly, he obtained as soon as he had got home, after quitting Mr. Tag-rag, about ten o'clock, he hastened to his friend Huckaback. That gentleman (who seemed now virtually recognized by Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap as Titmouse's confidant) shook his head ominously, exclaiming — " Blarney, blajTiey I" and a bitter sneer settled on his disagreeable features, till he had read down to the postscript, the perusal of which effected a sudden change in his feelings. He declared, with a great oath, that Messrs. Quirk, Gam- mon & Snap were " perfect gentlemen," and would " do the right thing after all — Titmouse might depend upon it ;" an assurance which greatly 80 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR, cheered Titmouse, to whose keen discernment it never once occurred to refer Huckaback's altered tone to the right cause, viz., the lubricating quality of the postscript ; and since Titmouse did not allude to it, no more did Mr. Huckaback, although his own double misnomer stuck not a little in his throat. So effectual, indeed, had been that most skillful postscript upon the party at whom it had been aimed, that he exerted himself un- ceasingly to revive Titmouse's confidence in Messre. Quirk, Gammon & Snap ; and so far succeeded, that Titmouse returned to his lodgings at a late hour, a somewhat happier, if not a wiser, man than he had left them. By the time, however, that he had got into bed, having once more spelled over the note in question, he felt as despondent as ever, and thought that Huckaback had not known what he had been talking about. He also adverted to an apparently careless allusion by Huckaback to the injuries which had been inflicted upon him by Titmouse on the Wednesday night ; and which, by the way, Huckaback determined it should be no fault of his if Titmouse easily forgot! He hardly knew why — ^but he disliked this particularly. Whom had he, however, in the world, but Huckaback ? In company with him alone. Titmouse felt that his pent-up feelings could discharge themselves. Huckaback' had certainly a wonderful knack of keeping up Titmouse's spirits, whatever cause he fancied he might really have for depression. In short, he longed for the Sunday morning — ^usher- ing in a day of rest and sympathy. Titmouse would indeed then have to look back upon an agitating and miserable week, what with the dismal ^upsetting of his hopes in the manner I have described, and the tyrannical treatment which he had experienced at Tag-rag & Co.'s. His tormentor there, however, began at length, in some degree, to relax his active exer- tions against Titmouse, simply because of the exertion requisite for keeping them up. He attributed the pallid cheek and depressed manner of Tit- mouse entirely to the discipline which had been inflicted upon him at the shop ; and was gratified at perceiving that all his other young men seemed, especially in his presence, to have imbibed his hatred of Titmouse. What produced in Tag-rag his hatred of Titmouse? Simply what had taken place on the Monday. Mr. Tag-rag's dignity and power had been doggedly set at nought by one of his shopmen, who had since refused to make the least submission, or offer any kind of apology. Such conduct struck at the root of subordination in his great establishment. Again, there is perhaps nothing in the world so calculated to enrage a petty and vulgar mind to the highest pitch of malignity as the cool, persevering defiance of an inferior, whom it strives to despise, while it is only haMng, feeling at the same time such to be the case. Tag-rag now and then, when he looked towards Titmouse, as he stood behind the counter, felt as though he could have killed the little ape. Titmouse attempted once or twice, during the week, to obtain a situation elsewhere, but in vain. He could expect no character from Tag-rag ; and when the 10th of August should have arrived, what was to become of him ? These were the kind of thoughts often pass- ing through his mind during the Sunday, which he and Huckaback spent together in unceasing conversation on the one absorbing event of the past week. Titmouse, poor little puppy, had dressed himself with just TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 81 as much care as usual ; but, as he was giving the finishing touches lo his toilet, pumping up grievous sighs every half minute, the sum of his reflections might be stated in the miserable significance of a quaint saying of Poor Eichard's — " How hard is it to make an empty bag stand upright !" CHAPTEE VII. TITMOrrSE AND HUCKABACK THINK IT EIGHT TO GO TO CHTJECH; AND THE EOBMEB BECETVDS A LESSON ON LANDLOED-AND-TENANT-LAW FBOM MBS. SqUALLOF. ALTHOUGH the sun shone as vividly and beautifully as on the pre- ceding Sunday, to Titmouse's saddened eye there seemed a sort of gloom everywhere. Up and down the Park he and Huckaback walked, towards the close of the afternoon ; but Titmouse had not so elastic a strut as before. He felt empty and sinking. Everybody seemed to know what a sad pretender he was : and the friends quitted the magic circle much earlier than had been usual with Titmouse. What with the fatigue of a long day's saunter, the vexation of having had but a hasty, inferior, and unrefreshing meal, which did not deserve the name of dinner, and their unpleasant thoughts, both seemed depressed as they walked along the streets. At length they arrived at the open doors of a gloomy-looking building, into which two or three sad and prim-looking people were enter- ing. After walking a few paces past the door — " Do you know, Huck," said Titmouse, stopping with an embarrassed air, " I've often thought that — that there's something in Religion." " To be sure there is, for those that like it — who doubts it ? It's all very well in its place, no doubt," replied Huckaback, with much surprise, which increased as he felt himself being slowly swayed round towards the build- ing in question. " But what of that ?" " Oh, nothing : but — hem ! hem !" replied Titmouse, sinking his voice to a whisper — " a touch of — religion — eh ?— would not be so much amiss just now. I feel^uncommon inclined that way, somehow, 'pon my soul." " Eeligion's all very well, 'Ktty, dear, for them that has much to be thankful for ; but devil take me ! what have either you or me to be " " But, Huck, how do you know but we might get something to be thank- ful for, by praying ? I've often heard of great things in that line : but — do come in with me, Huck." Huckaback stood for a moment irresolute, twirling about his cane, and looking rather distastefully towards the dingy building. "It won't answer," said he, faintly. Titmouse drew him nearer ; but he suddenly started back. "No! oh, 'tis only a meeting-house, Tit! Curse Dissenters, how I hate 'em ! Isn't your precious governor one in that line? Give me a regular- like, respectable church, with a proper steeple, and parson, and prayers, and an organ, and all that." 82 TEN THOUSAND A TEAS. Titmouse secretly acknowledged the force of these observations ; and the intelligent and piously disposed couple, with perhaps a just, but certainly a somewhat sudden, regard for orthodoxy, were not long before they had found their way into a church where evening service was being performed. They ascended the gallery stair ; and seeing no reason to be ashamed of being at church, down they both went, with loud clattering steps, and a bold air, into the very central seat, which happened to be vacant, in the front of the gallery. Titmouse paid a most exemplary attention to what was going on, kneeling, sitting, and standing with exact propriety, in the proper places ; joining audibly in the responses, and keeping his eyes pretty steadily on the prayer-book, which he found lying there. He even rebuked Huckaback for whispering, during one of the most solemn parts of the ser- vice, that " there was an uncommon pretty gal in the next pew." He thought that the clergyman was a remarkably fine preacher, and said some things that he must have meant for him, Titmouse, in particular. " Curse me, Hucky I" said he, heatedly, as soon as they had quitted the church, and were fairly in the street — "curse me if — ^if — ever I felt so comfortable-like in my mind before, as I do now — see if I don't go again next Sunday." " Lord, Tit, you don't really mean — eh ? if s deuced dull work. I could hardly keep my eyes open." " Hang me if I don't, though ; and if anything should come of it — ^if I do but get the estate (I wonder, now, where Mr. Gammon goes to church. I should like to know. I'd go there regularly) — ^but If I c2o get the thing, you see if I don't " "Ah, I don't know ; it's not much use praying for money. Tit ; I've tried it myself once or twice, but it didn't answer." "I'll take my oath you was staring at the gals all the while, Hucky." "Ah, Titty 1" exclaimed Huckaback ; and winked his eye, and put the tip of his forefinger to the tip of his nose, and laughed. Titmouse continued in what he doubtless imagined to be a devout frame of mind for several minutes after quitting the church. But close by the aforesaid church, the devil had a thriving little establishment, in the shape of a cigar-shop, in which a showily-dressed young Jewess sat behind the counter, right underneath a glaring gas-light— with a narrow stripe of greasy black velvet across her forehead, and long ringlets resting on her shoulders— bandying slang with two or three other such creatures as Tit- mouse and Huckaback. Our friends entered and purchased a cigar a piece, which they lit on the spot ; and after each of them had exchanged an impudent wink with the Jewess, out they went, puffing away— all the remains of their piety. When they had come to the end of their cigars they parted, ea^h speeding homeward. Titmouse, on reaching his lodg- ing^, sank into profound depression. He felt an awful conviction that his visit to the cigar-shop had entirely spoiled the effect of his previous attend- ance at the church ; and that, if so disposed (and it would serve him right), he might now sit down and whistle for his ten thousand a year. Thoughts such as these drove him nearly distracted. If, indeed, he had foreseen having to go through such another week as the one just over, I think it TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 83 not impossible that before the arrival of the ensuing Sunday he might have afforded a little employment to that ancient and gloomy ftinctionary, a coroner, and his jury. At that time, however, inquests of this sort were matter-of-fact and melancholy enough affairs, which I doubt not would have been rather a dissuasive from suicide, in the estimation of one who might be supposed ambitious of the 6clat of a modern inquest, where, in- deed, such strange antics are played by certain new performers as would suffice to revive the corpse (if it were a corpse that had ever had a spark of sense or spirit in it), and make it kick the coroner out of the room. But to one of so high an ambition as Tittlebat Titmouse, how delightful would it not have been to anticipate becoming (what had been quite impracticable during life) the object of public attention after his death, by means of a flaming dissertation by the coroner on his own zeal and spirit, the nature and extent of his rights, powers, and duties, — ^when high doctors are brow- beaten, the laws set at defiance, and public decency plucked by the beard, and the torn and bleeding hearts of surviving relatives still further agonized by an exposure, all quivering under the recent stroke, to the gaping vulgar I Indeed, I sometimes think that the object of certain coroners nowadays is twofold; first, pubHc — to disgust people with suicide, by showing what horrid proceedings will take place over their carcases ; and secondly, private — to get the means of studying anatomy by posi-mor- tems, which the said coroner never could procure in his own practice, which enables us to account for some things one has lately seen, namely, that if a man came to his death by means of a wagon crushing his legs, the coroner institutes an exact examination of the structure of the lungs and heart. I take it to be getting now into a rule, the propriety whereof some people think cannot be doubted, namely, that bodies ought now to be opened only to prove that they ought not to have been opened ; an inquest must be held in order to demonstrate that it need not have been held, except that certain fees thereby find their way into the pocket of the aforesaid coroner which would otherwise not have done so. In short, such a coroner as I have in my eye may be compared to a great ape squatting on a corpse, furiously chattering and spitting at all around it ; and I am glad that it hath at last had wit enough first to shut the door before pro- ceeding to its horrid tricks. Touching, by the way, the moral of suicide, it is a way which some have of cutting the Gordian knot of the difficulties of life, which having been done, possibly the first thing made manifest to the spirit, after taking its mad leap into the dark, may be, how very easily the said knot might have been UTfTiBD ; nay, that it was on the very point of being untied, if the impatient spirit had stayed only a moment longer ! I said it was not impossible that Mr. Titmouse might, under the circum- stances alluded to, have done the deed which has called forth the above very natural and profound reflections ; but, upon the whole, it is hardly probable; for he knew that by doing so he would, first, irreparably injure society, by depriving it of an enlightened and invaluable member; secondly, inflict great indignity on his precious body, of which during life he had always taken the most affectionate care, by consigning it to burial 84 TEN TJIOUSANB A YEAR. in a eros&-rpad, at nigli1>-time, With a stake nm through it, and, moreover, peril the little soul that had just leaped out of it, by not having any burial- service said over his aforesaid remains; and, lastly, lose all chance of enjoying Ten Thousand a Year — at least upon earth. I own I was a little fitartled, a& I daresay was the pensive reader, at a passage of mournful sig- nificance in Mr. Titmouse's last letter to Messrs. (Juirk, Gammon & Snap, namely, " How flill of trouble I am, often, thvMhg of death, which is the end of everytidng ;" but, on carefully considering the context, I am disposed to think that the whole was only an astute device of Titmouse's, either to rouse the fears, or stimulate the feelings, or excite the hopes, of the three arbiters of his destiny to whom it was addressed. Mr. Gammon, he thought, might be thereby moved to pity, while Mr. Quirk would probably be operated upon by fears, lest the sad contingency pointed at might de- prive the house of one who would richly repay their exertions, and by hopes of indefinite advantage) if they could by any means prevent its hap- pening. That these gentlemen really did keenly scrutinize and carefully weigh every expression in that letter, ridiculous as it was, and contempt- ible as I fear it showed its writer to be, is certain ; but it did not occur to them to compare with it the spirit, at least, and intention of their own answer to it. Did the latter document contain less cunning and insincerity because it was couched in somewhat superior phraseology ? They could conceal their selfish and over-reaching designs, while poor Titmouse ex- posed all his little mean-mindedness and hypocrisy, simply because he had not learned how to conceal it efiectually. It was indeed a battle for the very same object, but betvreen unequal combatants. Each was trying to take in the other. If Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap despised and loathed the man to whom theiy exhibited such anxious courtesy. Titmouse hated and feared those whom his interests compelled him for a while to concili- ate. Was there, in fact, a pin to choose between them, except perhaps that Titmouse was, in a manner, excused by his necessities 7 But in the mean- while — to proceed — hSs circumstances were becoming utterly desperate. He continued to endure great suffering at Mr. Tag-rag's during the day — the constant butt of the ridicule and insult of his amiable companions, and the victim of his employer's vile and vulgar spirit of hatred and oppres- sion. His spirit, such as it was in short, was very nearly broken. Though he seized every opportunity that ofiered to inquire for another situation, he was unsuccessful ; for all whom he applied to spoke of the strict character they should require "before taking a new hand into their establishment." His occupation at nights, after quitting the shop, was twofold only— either to call upon Huckaback (whose sympathy, however, he was exhausting rapidly), or solace his feelings by walking down to Safiron HiU, and lin- gering about the closed office of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, — for there was a kind of gratification even in that I He once or twice felt flus- tered even on catching a glimpse of the old housekeeper returning home with a pint of porter in her hand. How he would have rejoiced to get into her good graces, and accompany her into even the kitchen, whai he would be on the premises, at least, and conversing with one of the establishment of those who, he believed, could with a stroke of their pens turn this wilder- TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. 85 ness of a world into a paradise for him ! But he dared not make any over- tures in that quarter, for fear of their getting to the notice of the dreaded Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap. At length, no more than three or four shillings stood between him and utter destitution ; and the only person in the world to whom he could apply for even the most trivial assistance was Huckaback, whom, however, he knew to be little better off than himself, and whom, moreover, he felt to be treating him more and more coldly as the week wore on, without his hearing of any the least tidings from Saffron Hill. Huckaback evidently felt now scarcely any interest or pleasure in the visits of his melancholy Mend, and was plainly disinclined to talk aboij-t his affairs. At length he quite turned up his nose with disgust whenever Titmouse took out the well- worn note of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, which was almost dropping in pieces with being constantly carried about in his pocket, taken in and out, and folded and unfolded, for the purpose of conning over its contents, as if there might yet linger in it some hitherto undiscovered source of consola- tion. Poor Titmouse, therefore, looked at it on every occasion with as eager and vivid an interest as ever ; but it was glanced at by Huckaback with a halfraverted eye, and a cold drawling, yawning "Ya — a — as — I see — ^I dare — say !" While his impressions of Titmouse's bright prospects were thus being rapidly effaced, his smarting recollections of the drubbing he had receLved became more distinct and frequent, his feelings of resent- ment more lively, nor the less so because the expression of them had been stifled, while he had considered the star of Titmouse to be in the ascendant, till the time for setting, them into motion and action had gone by. In fact, the presence of Titmouse, suggesting such thoughts and recollections, became intolerable to Huckaback; and Titmouse's perceptions, dull as they naturally were, but a little quickened by recent suffering, gave him more and more distinct notice of this circumstance, at the precise time T^hen he meditated applying for the loan of a few shillings. These feelings made him as humble towards Huckaback, and as tolerant of his increasing rudeness and ill-humor, as he felt abject towards Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap ; for, unless he could succeed in wringing some trifling loan from Huckaback, if he really had it in his power to advance him anything, Tit- mouse really could not conjecture what was to become of him. Various faint but unadroit hands and feelers of his had been thrown away upon Huckaback, who did not, or would not, comprehend them. At length, however, a sudden and fearful pressure compelled poor Titmouse to squeak out. Gripe, the collector, called one morning for the poor's rates due from Mrs. Squallop, and drained her of almost every penny of ready money wMch.she had by her. This threw the good woman upon her resources, to replenish her empty pocket, and down she came upon Titmouse— or rather, up she went to him ; for his heart sank within him, one night on his return from the shop, having only just taken off his hat and lit his caudle, as he heard the fat old termagant's well-known heavy step ascend- ing the stairs, and approaching nearer and nearer to his door. Her loud imperative single knock vibrated through his very heart. "Oh, Mrs, Squallop I How d'ye do, Mrs. Squallop?" commenced Tit- 86 TEN TBOUSAND A YEAR. mouse faintly, when he had opened the door; "won't you take a chair?" •with trepidation offering to the panting dame almost the only chair he had. " No — I a'n't come to stay, Mr. Titmouse, hecause, d'ye see, in course you've got a pound, ai least, ready for me, as you promised long ago — and never more welcome; there's old Gripe been here to-day, and had his hodious rates ('drat the poor, say 1 1 them as can't work should starve ! rates is a robbery !)^but howsomdever he's cleaned me out to-day; so, in coorse, I come up to you. Got it, Mr. Titmouse ?" "I — I — I — 'pon my life, Mrs. Squallop, I'm uncommon sorry " " Oh, bother your sorrow, Mr. Titmouse 1 out with the needful, for I can't stop palavering here." " I — I can't, so help me 1" gasped Titmouse, with the calmness of desperation. "You can't 1 And marry, sir, why not, may I make bold to ask?" inquired Mrs. Squallop after a moment's pause, striving to choke down her rage. "P'r'aps you can get blood out of a stone, Mrs. Squallop; it's what / can't," replied Titmouse, striving to screw his courage up to the sticking place, to encounter one who was plainly bent upon mischief. " I've got two shillings — there they are," throwing them on the table ; " and cuss me if I've another rap in the world ; there, ma'am I take 'em, do ; and drive me desperate !" " You're a liar, then, that's flat !" exclaimed Mrs. Squallop, slapping her hand upon the table, with a violence that made the candle quiver on it, and almost fall down. "You have the himperanne" said she, sticking her arms a-kimbo, and commencingthe address she had been preparing in her own mind ever since Mr. Gripe had quitted her house, "to stand there and tell me you've got nothing in the world but them two shillings t Heugh! Out on you, you oudacious fellow ! you jack-a-dandy ! You, tell me you haven't got more than them two shillings, and yet turns out every Sunday morning of your life like a lord, with your pins, and your rings, and your chains, and your fine coat, and your gloves, and your spurs, and your dandy cane — ough ! you whipper-snapper 1 You're a cheat — you're a swindler, jack-a-dandy ! You're the contempt of the whole court, you are — ^you jack-ardandy ! You've got all my rent on your back, and so you've had every Sunday for three months, you cheat ! you low fellow ! you imgratefd chap I You're a-robbing the widow and fatherless. Look at me, and my six fatherless children down there, you good-for-nothing, nasty, proud puppy 1 — eugh ! it makes me sick to see you. You dress yourself out like my lord mayor! You've bought a gold chain with my rent, you rascally cheat ! Yoa dress yourself out ! Ha, ha ! you're a nasty, mean-looking, humpty-dumpty, carroty-headed " " You'd better not say that again, Mrs. Squallop," quoth Titmouse, with a fierce glance. " Not say it again I" she echoed, furiously snapping her fingers in his face, " ha, ha ! Hoighty-toighty, carroty-haired jack-a-dandy ! Why, you hop- o'-my-thumb I d'ye think I won't say whatever I choose, and in my own TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 87 house, and to a man that can't pay his rent? You're a Titmouse by name and by nature ; there a'n't a cockroach crawling in our kitchen that a'n't more harmless than you! You're a himperant cheat, and dandy, and knave, and a liar, and a red-haired rascal — and thai in your teeth ! (again snapping her fingers.) Ough 1 Your name stinks in the court. You're a taking of everybody in as will trust you to a penny's amount. There's poor old Cox, the tailor, with a sick wife and five children, whom you've cheated this many months, all of his not having sperrit to summons you. But rU set him upon you ; you see if I don't ; and I'll have my own, too, or I wouldn't give thai for the laws I" shouted Mrs. Squallop, once again furiously snapping her fingers in his face ; and then pausing for breath after her eloquent invective. "Now, what is the use," said Titmouse gently, being completely cowed; " now, what good can it do to go on in this way, Mrs. Squallop ?" " Missus me no missus, Mr. Titmouse, but pay me my rent, you jack-a- dandy I You've got my rent on your back, and on your little finger ; and m have it off you before I've done with you, I warrant you. I'm your landlady, and I'll sell you up ; I'll have old Thumbscrew here the first thing in the morning, and distrain everything, and you, too, you jackdaw, if any one would buy you, which they won't. I'll have my rent at last : I've been too easy with you, you ungrateful chap ; for, mark, even Gripe this morn- ing says, ' Haven't you a gentleman lodger up above ? get him to pay you your own,' says he ; and so I will. I'm sick of all this, and I'U have my rights I Here's my son, Jem, a far better-looking chap than you, though he hasrit got hair like a sandy mop all under his chin, and he's obligated for to work from one week's end to another, in a paper cap and fustian jacket; and you — ^yon painted jackanapes! But now I have got you, and I'll turn you inside out, though I know there's nothing in you. But I'll try to get at your fine coats, and spurs, and trousers, your chains and pins, and make something of them before I've done with you, you jack-a-dandy I" and the virago shook her fist at him, looking as though she had not yet uttered even half that was in her heart towards him. [Alas, alas ! unhappy Titmouse, much-enduring son of sorrow 1 I per- ceive that you now feel the sharpness of an angry female tongue ; and, indeed to me, not in the least approving of the many coarse and heart- splitting expressions which she uses, it seems, nevertheless, that she hath not gone exceeding far off the mark in much that she hath said ; for, in truth, in your conduct there is not a little that to me, piteously inclined towards you as I am, yet appeareth obnoxious to the edge of this woman's re- proaches. But think not, O bewildered and not-with-sufficientdistinctness- disceming-the-nature-of-things Titmouse 1 that she hath only a sharp and bitter tongue. In this woman behold a mother, and it may be that she will soften before you, who have plainly, as I hear, neither father nor mother. Oh, me !] Poor Titmouse trembled violently; his lips quivered; and the long pent-up tears forced their way at length over his eyelids, and fell fast down his cheeks. "Ah, you may well cry— you may! But it's too late — it's my turn to 88 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. cry now ! Don't you think that I fed for my own flesh and blood, which is my six children 7 And isn't whaf s mine theirs ? And aren't you keep- ing tbe fatherless o^it of their own? It?s too bad of yon — it is, and you know it is," continued Mrs. Squallop, vehemently. "They've got a mother — a kind — ^good — smother — ^to take — care of them," sobbed Titmouse; "but there's been no one in the — the — world that cares a straw for me — ^this twenty years 1" He fairly wept aloud. " Well, then, more's the pity for you. If you had, they wouldn't have let you make such a puppy of yourself — and at your landlady's expense, too. You know you're a fool," said Mrs. Squallop, dropping her voice a little ; for she was a mothee, after aU, and she knew that what poor Tit- mouse had just stated was quite true. She tried hard to feed the fire of her wrath, by forcing into her thoughts every aggravating topic against him that she could think of; but it became every moment harder and harder to do so, for she was consciously softening rapidly towards the weeping and miserable little object, on whom she had been heaping such violent and bitter abuse. He was a great fool, to be sure— rhe was very fond of fine clothes — ^he knew no better — he had, however, paid his rent well enough till lately — he was a very quiet, well-disposed lodger, for aU she had known — ^he had given her youngest child a pear not long ago. Eeally, thought Mrs. Squallop, I may have gone a leetle too far. " Come — it a'n't no use crying in this way," she b^an, in an altered tone. "It won't put money into your pocket, nor my rent into mine. You know you've wronged me, and I must be paid," she added, but in a stiU lower tone. She tried to cough away a certain rising disagreeable sensa- tion about her throat ; for Titmouse, having turned his back to hide the extent of his emotions, seemed haJf-choked with suppressed sobs. " So you won't speak a word — not a word — ^to the woman you've injui;ed so much?" inquired Mrs. Squallop, trying to assume a harsh tone; but her eyes were a little obstructed with motherly tears. " I — I — can't speak," sobbed Titmouse — " I — I feel ready to drop into a cold, early grave — everybody hates me" — here he paused; and for some moments neither of them spoke. " I've been kept on my legs the whole day about the town by Mr. Tag-rag, and had no dinner. I — I — wish I was dead ! I do I you may take all I have — ^here it is," continued Titmouse, with his foot pushing towards Mrs. SquaUop the old hair trunk that con- tained aU his little finery. " I sha'n't want them much longer, for I'm turned out of my situation.'' This was too much for Mrs. SquaUop, and she was obliged to wipe her fuU eyes with the comer of her apron without saying a word. Her heart smote her for the misery she had inflicted on one who seemed quite broken down. Pity suddenly flew, fluttering his wings — soft dovel^nto her heart, and put to flight in an instant all her enraged feelings. " Come, JMr. Titmouse," said she, in quite an altered tone, " never mind me; Pm a plain- spoken woman enough, I daresay, and often say more than I mean — ^for I know I a'n't over particular when my blood's up— but — lord! I I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head, poor chap — for aU I've said — ^no not for double the rent you owe me. Come, don't go on so, Mr. Titmouse — TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 89 what's the use? — it's all quite — over — ^I'm so sorry — Lud ! if I had really thought" — she almost sobbed — " you'd been so — so — why, I'd have waited till to-morrow night before I'd said a word. But, Mr. Titmouse, since you haven't had any dinner, won't you have a mouthful of something — a bit of bread and cheese? I'll soon fetch you up a bit, and a drop of beer — we've just had it in for our suppers." "No, thank you — I can't — I can't eatl" sobbed Titmouse. " Oh, bother it, but you shall J I'll go down and fetch it up in half a minute, as sure as my name's Squallop I" And out of the room and down stairs she bustled, glad of a moment to recover herself. " Lord-a-mercy I" said she, on entering her room, to her eldest daughter and a neighbor who had just come in to supper — and while she hastily cut a thick hunch of bread, and a good slice of cheese — " there I've been a rating that poor little chap, up at the top room (my dandy lodger, you know), like anything— and I really don't think he's had a morsel of vic- tuals in his belly this precious day ; and I've made him cry, poor soul 1 as if his heart would break. Pour us out half a pint of that beer, Sally — good half pint, mind 1 I'm going to take it up stairs directly. I've gone a deal too far with him, I do think ; but it's all of that nasty old Gripe ; I've been wrong all the day through it. How I hate the sight of old Gripe 1 What hodious-lookiag people they do get to collect the rates and taxes, to be sure ! Poor chap," she continued, as she wiped out a plate with her apron, and put into it the bread and cheese, together with a knife — " he offered me a chair when I went in, so uncommon civil-like, it took a good while before I could get myself into the humor to give it him as I wanted. And he's no father nor mother (half of which has happened to you, Sal, and the rest will happen one of these days you know — so you mind me while you have me), and he's not such a very bad lodger, after all, though he does get a little behindhand now and then, and though he turns out every Sunday like a lord, poor fool — as your poor dear father used to say, ' with a shining back and empty belly.' " " But that's no reason why honest people should be kept out of their own to feed his pride," interposed her neighbor, a skinny old widow, who had never had chick nor child, and was always behindhand with her own rent ; but whose effects were not worth distraining upon. " I'd get hold of some of his fine crinoum-crancums and gimcracks, for security like, if I was you. I would indeed." " Why — no, poor soul — I don't hardly like : he's a vain creature, and puts everything he can on his back, to be sure ; but he a'n't quite a rogue, neither." " Ah, ha, Mrs. Squallop — you're such a simple soul ! Won't my fine gentleman make off with his finery after to-night ?'' "Well, I shouldn't have thought it! To be sure he may ! EeaUy, there can't be much harm in asking him (in a proper kind of way) to deposit one of his fine things with me, by way of security — that ring of his, you know — eh ? Well, I'll try it anyhow," said Mrs. Squallop,. as she set off up stairs. " I know what /should do, if so be he was a lodger of mine, that's all," 90 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. said her visitor, significantly (as Mrs. Squallop quitted the room), vexed to find her supper so considerably and unexpectedly diminished, especially as to the pot of porter, which she strongly suspected would not be re- plenished. " There," said Mrs. Squallop, setting down on the table what she had brought for Titmouse, " there's a bit of supper for you ; and you're welconie to it, I'm sure, Mr. Titmouse." "Thank you, thank you — I can't eat," said he, casting, however, upon the victuals a hungry eye, which belied what he said, while in his heart he longed to be left alone with them for about three minutes. " Come, don't be ashamed — fall to work — ^it's good wholesome victuals," said she, lifting the table near to the edge of the bed, on the side of which he was sitting, and taking up the two shillings lying on the table — " and capital good beer, I warrant me ; you'll sleep like a top after it." "You're uncommon kind, Mrs. Squallop; but I sha'n't get a wink of sleep to-night for thinking " " Oh, bother your thinking I Let me begin to see you eat a bit. Well, I suppose you don't like to eat and drink before me, so I'll go. [Here arose a sudden conflict in the good woman's mind, whether or not she would act on the suggestion which had been put into her head down stairs. She was on the point of yielding to the impulse of her own good-natured, though coarse feelings ; but at last — ] " I — I — daresay, Mr. Titmouse, you mean what's right and straightforward," she stammered. "Yes, Mrs. Squallop — you may keep those two shillings; they're the last farthing I have left in the whole world." " No — hem ! — hem I — ahem 1 I was just suddenly arthinking — now can't you guess, Mr. Titmouse?" " What, Mrs. Squallop ?" inquired Titmouse, meekly but anxiously. "Why — suppose now — if it were only to raise ten shillings with old Balls, round the corner, on one of those fine things of yours — ^your ring, say !" [Titmouse's heart sank within him.] " Well, well — ^never mind — don't fear," said Mrs. Squallop, observing him suddenly turn pale again. " I — ^I only thought — but never mind ! it don't signify — good-night ! we can talk about this to-morrow— good-night — a good night's rest to you, Mr. Titmouse I" and the next moment he heard her heavy step descending the stairs. Some little time elapsed before he could recover from the agitation into which he had been thrown by her last proposal; but within five minutes of her quitting the room, there stood before him, on the table^ an empty plate and jug. " The beast I the fat old toad 1" thought he, the instant that he had finished masticating what had been supplied to him by real charity and good-nature — " the vulgar wretch 1 — ^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 I 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, TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 91 bread and cheese, and all — while she was standing canting there! A snivellisg old beldam 1 Pawn my ring 1 1 Lord ! !" Here he began to undress. "Hal 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 clue to their real character and bearing. These he folded up in a half sheet of writing-paper, and proceeded to stitch them carefully beneath the lining of his waistcoat : after which he blew out his slim candle, and with a heavy sigh got into bed. CHAPTER VIII. A VISIOSr OP BEATJTY USSEBN BY MB. TITMOUSE; WHO IS IN THE MIDNIGHT OF DESPAIK, AND WHITES A LETTER WHICH STARTLES MB. QtrlEK. FOB some moments after Titmouse had blown out the candle, the image of it remained on his aching and excited retina ; and just so long did the thoughts of ten IJun^sand a year dwell on his fancy, fading, however, quickly away amid the thickening gloom of doubts, and fears, and miseries, which oppressed him. Ther^ 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 Ms 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 roofe 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 I 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 92 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. object, but at some two hundred miles' distance from London, a very dif- ferent person, with very different feelings, and in very different circum- stances. It was one of the angels of the earth — a pure-hearted and very beautiful girl ; who, after a day of peaoefiil, innocent, and charitable em- ployment, 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 imder 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 Aestj repose, tended and petted during the day by her own delicate hand. Beautiful moon ! cold and cKaste 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 cheer- ful reverence before thy Maker— to bed— to bed— sweet Kate, nothing dis- turbing 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 could'st 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 dreadfiil image of Mrs. Squallop, shouting at him, tearing his hair, cuffing him, flinging a pot of porter in his face, opening his boxes, tossing TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 93 his clothes about, taking out his invaluable ornaments ; by Tag-rag kicking him out of the shop ; and Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap dashing past him in a fine carriage, with six horses, and paying no attention to him as he ran shouting and breathless after them ; Huckaback following, kicking and pinching him behind. These were the few little bits of diflFerent colored glass in a mental kaleidoscope, which, turned capriciously rotfnd, 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 BoyaJ 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 him- self 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 delightfiil 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 recommen- dation, sir. If I was you, sir, I'd raise my terms. You're worth double what I give, sir 1" 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 1 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 yoii." Titmouse did as he was bid ; and Tag-rag, a bland smile suddenly beaming on his attractive fea- tures, 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 repair- ing to his lodgings, set off, with a heavy heart, to pay a visit to his excel- lent 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 Eichard — and Titmouse was now going to learn that useful but bitter lessqn. Oh, how disheartening was Mr. Huckaback's reception 94 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. of him ! That gentleman, in answering tlie 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 repul- sive look. "Ohl it's you. Titmouse, is it?" he conunenced 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 thafs flat!" briskly interrupted Hucka- back, 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 1 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 remem- ber, 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 six- pence in the whole world." " Ha, ha ! A pretty chap to borrow. You can pay so well. By George, Titmouse, you're a cool hand 1" " If you won't lend me, I must starve." " Go to my und^s." [Titmouse groaned aJoud.] " 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. SquaJlop said last night!" " Whew ! Sh^s down on you, is she? And you have the face to come to me! F(Mi— -that^s a going to be sold up, come to borrow. Lord, that's good, any howl 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 1 if not, anyhow, pcmm 'em. Can't eat your cake and have it ; fine back must have empty belly with us sort of chaps." TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 95 " 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 recol- lection that he had next to nothing to receive. "You've some property in the moon, too, that's coming to you, you know I" said Huckaback, with an insulting sneer. "I know what you're driving at," said poor Titmouse; and he con- tinued, eagerly, "and if anything should ever come up from Messrs. Quirk, Gam '■" " Yough ! Faugh I Pish I StnflF!" burst out Huckaback, in a tone of con- tempt and disgust ; " never thought there was anything in it, and now hmm it ! If s all my eye, and all that I You've been only humbugging me all this while." " Oh, Hucky, Hucky ! You don't say so I" groaned Titmouse, bursting into tears ; " you did not atwdys say so." " It's enough that I say it now, then ; will that do 1" interrupted Hucka- back, impetuously. " Oh, Lord, Lord 1 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 & 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 1 were to do what you want, when you got your money, you'd forget everything about it" — — " Forget my promise I 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,ipay me a hundred pounds out of your thousands?" "Oh, Lord 1 only you try me— do try mel" said Titmouse, eagerly. "Oh, I daresay," 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 tre- mendous oath as I dare not set down in writing, that if Huckaback would that evening lend him ten shillings. Titmouse would give him one hun- dred pounds out of the very first moneys he got from the estate. 96 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " 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, 'tis 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 giviiig 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 shillingia 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 — 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 hun- dred's odds enough, I'm sure I" quoth Titmouse, meekly. " P'r'aps, Tit, you forget the Uehing 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 dam^es 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, 'tis all past and gone, all that^ " " Is it ? Well, I never I 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 shan't !" [It never once occurred to Titmouse, not having his Mend Mr. Gammon at his elbow, that the plaintiff in the action of Huckaback v. OKimouse 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, " thaf 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 & Snap. I didn't intend to have said a word ; but — you should only have heard what Pm heard to-day from those gents ; hem 1 but I won't split again either 1" 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 1" " 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 1" exclaimed Huckaback, with unaffected concern. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 97 " And 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 hag always been a fast friend of yours. Titty 1 A pound I — 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 sig- nify, since it goes against you. So now, here goes, a bit of paper for ten shillings — ha, ha 1" 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. M, Huckahack 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—. B. 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 shan'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 biU of exchange without one) ; and he signed it in- stantly, 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 cursed him upon Shutting the door on him; and then anxiously perused and reperused 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 afiairs. 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 I 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 7 98 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 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 pocket 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 fooll 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 & Snap. They, in com- mon 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 opportimity that pre- sented itself for securing a little return hereafter for the ten shillings, with which he had so generously parted when he could so ill aflTord it ; while Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & 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 & Snap's risk, exertions, outlay, and benefit conferred on Titmouse, to their con- tingent gain of ten thousand pounds. The principal point of difierence 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 & Snap, that — "thus foolil' [e. g., Huckaback) "rushed in where angeUf' (i. e., Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & 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 miUionaire 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 & Snap. Some two or TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 9D 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 & Snap ; and here follows a vesrhatim copy of it : — Ho. 9 CSloset Coubt, Oxeokd Steeet. "To Messrs Qtjekk & Co. " Gents, — Am Sorry to Trouble You, But Being Drove quite desperate at my Troubles (which have bro' me to my Last Penny a Week ago) and Mrs Squallop my Landlady w* 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"" Is WTiat 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* Have Had so Much trouble with My Affairs w"" c* not Help. Sh* 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 ii Will. Hav* raised a Trifle On my Future Prospects (w' am Certain There is Nothing In) from a Ihie Friend^' [need it be guessed at whose instance these words had found their way into the letter?] "w* was certainly uncommon inconvenient to That Person But He w* do Any thing to Do me good As he says Am going to raise A Little More from a Gent That does Things of That Nature w"" will help me with Expense in Going Abroad (which place I Never mean to Eetum from). Have fixed for the 10th To Go on w" Day Shall Take leave Of Mr Tag- rag (who on my Eetum Shall be glad to See Buried or in the Workhouse). Have wrote This letter Only to Save Y' Kespectable Selves trouble w* Trust You w* not have Taken. • "And Bemain, "Gents, " Y' humble Unworthy servant, "T. Titmouse. "P. S.— Hope you will Particularly Kemember me to Mr Gamon. What is to become of me, know nothing, being so troubled. Am Humbly De- termined not to employ any Gents in This matter except y' most Respect- able House, and sh* be most Truly Sorry to Go Abroad wh" am reaUy Often thinking of in Earnest. (Unless something Speedily Turns Up, fe,vorable, T. T.— Sh* like (By the way) to know if you sh* be so Disposed what y' resp" house w^ taie for my Chances Down {Out arnd out) In a Bound Sum (Ready money) And hope if they Write It wiU be by Next Post or Shall be Gone Abroad." 100 TEN THOUSAND A TEAS. CHAPTER IX. HOW GAMMON USED TO WIND BOUND QUIRK ; AND THE SUBTLE MEANS HE TOOK TO FIND OUT WHAT TITMOUSE WAS ABOUT. OLD Mr. Quirk, as soon as he had finished the perusal of the forgoing skillful 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? Iteally, we must look after Titmouse, or, by Jove! he'll be gone I" Mr. Gammon took the letter rather eagerly, read deliberately through it, and then looked up at his fidgety partner, who stood anxiously eyeing him, and \ smiled. Well, Gammon, I really think— eh? Dont 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 quiie 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 smUe. (I) " 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 I" " Then, my dear sir, put your hand ,lli{o your pocket at once, as I was suggesting last night, and allow him & weekly sum." "A — ^heml hem! Gammon," saidy©ffi^, sitting down, thrusting his hands into his waistcoat pockets, an^J^OKing very earnestly at Gammon. " Well, then," replied that gra^^an^ shrugging his shoulders, in answer to the mute appeal — " wrR«^(^M^^pti won't — 'tis soon done, and , so the matter ends." 'vV^ " Why, Gammon, you see, if he goes ah/oa.d," 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 ! Eidiculous pretence! In his precious postscript he undoes all — ^he says he is only often. ihinMr^g 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 hints 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 stufi" about going abroad — pho I But,- to be sure, if he's trying to raise TEN THOUSAND A TilAR. lOl 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 Mort- main encouraged me a good deal the day before yesterday." " Well, and you know what Mr. Frankpledge — -" " Oh, as to Frankpledge — ^hem 1" ' " What of Mr. Frankpledge, Mr. Quirk ?" inquired Gammon, rather tartly. "There I there! Always the way— but what does it signify? Come, come, Gammon, we know each other too well to quarrel I I don't mean anything disrespectfid to Mr. Frankpledge, but when Mortmain has been one's conveyancer these twenty years, and never once — ^hem'I — but, how- ever, he tells me 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 pre- liminary steps ia the matter, which indeed I begin to think it is high time to do. And as for securing ourselves in respect of any advances to Tit- mouse — he suggests our taking a bond, conditioned-^say for the payment of JE500 or £1000 on demand, under cover of which one might advance him, yon know, just such sums as and when we pleased ; one could begin with three or four pounds a week, and increase as his prospects improved — ehl" "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 I" " 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 thait should be looked to, shouldn't it ?" interrupted Quirk, with an exceedingly chagrined air. " I always like to look a long way ahead !" "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 tiling. 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 I " " 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 thoughtsy why not do it myself, if anything can be made of it ?" 102 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. "That, however, will be for future consideration. In the meantime, we'd better Bend for Titmouse, and manage him a little more discreetly — eh ? We did not exactly, hit it off last tim^ 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 diffi- cult 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 vmder- taking to act implicitly according to our directions in everything." "Ay, to be sure, on pain of our instantly turning him to the rightabout. 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 I ) a fency to me — ^poor fool 1 — 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 deter- mined ; one or the other of us shall undertake Titmouse, solely and singly. Pray, for Heaven's sake, tackle him yourself — a disagreeable duty I You know, my dear sir, how invariably I leave everything of real importance and diflScnlty to your very superior tact and experience; but this little matter — pshaw 1" " 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 hsid 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 departed. On entering his own room, Quirk, closing his door, stood for some time lean- ing 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-confi- dence when in Gammon's presence ; but he did not really feel it. He never left Gammon after any little difference of opinion, however friendly, with- out a secret suspicion that somehow or another Gammon had been too much for him, and always gained his purposes, without giving Quirk any TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. 103 handle of dissatisfaction. In fact, Quirk was thoroughly afraid of Gam- mon, 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 com- menced, 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 ofien- sive 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 I" 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 ? a con-si-de-ra-tion — a mitahle con-si-de-rartion." " Mr. Quirk I Heavens !" Gammon was really amazed. " Well? You needn't open yoiir 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 agree to buy our silence with four or five thou- sand pounds, really, it is well worth considering. Upon my soul. Gam- mon, it 18 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 1 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 Pock Neighbor?" said Gammon, with a sly smile. " Why, thafs only one way of looking at it, Gammon. Perhaps the man 104 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 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 peremp- torily — " 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. Qruh " 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 oil 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, and that would make a halfpenny ; on which the defendant's attorney tendered me — a halfpenny on the spot. Laughter in court — move for a 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 pro- fession." "Good, Mr. Gammon, good!" interposed Snap, warmly; "your little action for the usury penalties the other day came off so uncommon well I the judge's compliment to you was so nice " " Let me tell you, Mr. Snap," interrupted Gammon, reddening- " Pho ! Come 1 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 sol- vent f 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 uncere- moniously^ " 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 non- suit the plaintiff (a man with a large family, who had kindly lent the defendant a considerable sum of money), solely because of the imnt of a TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. 105 "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 igno- rance and unskillfalness of his attorney or solicitor 1 and he hates almost equally his own and his opponent's attorney. Precisely so is it with a successful or unsuccessftil 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 mis- chief 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 I 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 ; 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 taUor, £1 8s. — in all, three guineas ; besides 10s. to Huckaback (for Tittlebat's notion was, that on repayment at any time of lOs., 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 me farthing. On returning to his lodgings that night, he found a line from Thumb- screw, his landlady's broker, informing him that unless by ten o'clock on 106 TEN TEOUSAND A YEAS. 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 florther 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 miist have been thrust under the door. From the marks on it, it was evident that he must have trod upon it on entering. It proved to be a summons from the Court of Requests, for £1 83. due to John C!ox, 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. Hav- ing at length watched out a very pale and wretched-looking woman. Tit- mouse 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 4b., 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 proflise 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 eighteenpence in his pocket — all his cyrnamerUs 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 reseated 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 7 Why had he been bom ? Why was he so much more persecuted and miserable than any ong else ? Visions of his ring, his breast-pin, his studs, stuck in a bit of card, with their price written above them, and hang- ing 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 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 107 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 & Snap, solicitors^ Saflfron HjU," 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 pro- digious 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, Thavibs' Ihh, Jidy 29, 18—. " Mt Dear Mb. Titmoitsb : — ^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 £ivor 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, con- cerning 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 faithfiil humble servant, "Oily Gammon. "TiTTtBBAT Titmouse, Escj." The first balmy drop of the long-expected golden shower had at length fallen upon the panting Titmouse. How polite — nay, how aflfectionate and respectftd — ^was the note of Mr. Gammon 1 and, for the first time in his life, he saw himself addressed "Tittlebat Titmouse, EsfttriBE.'' 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 108 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 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 redelivered to Titmouse his precious ornaments, and the change out of his note, miims a trifling sum for interest. Titmouse then started off at top speed to Hucka- back ; 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 exceed- ingly 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 ex- traordinary excitement of its writer. Sleep, that night and morning, found and left Mr. Titmouse the assured exulting master of Ten Thousand a Yeab. 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 ftiture disap- pointment 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 lifej observe, therefore, folks on all hands constantly acting like Tittlebat Tit- mouse 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, tha* 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 ANY- WHEBE : 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 ex- pressions 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 TEN THOVSAND A YEAR. 109 being opened, and volunteering his assistance in numerous things beyond bis usual province, with singular briskness and energy, as if conscious that by doing so he was greatly gratifying Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, whose wishes upon the subject he knew. He displayed such un- wonted 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 afiFront him ; seeing nothing but impertinence and deiiance in all that Titmouse did^as if the nearer that 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, Holbom, where he considered that doubtless Mr. Gammon, who lived in the neighborhood, might have a seat. He asked three or four pew-openers, botJi 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 sub- due 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 Ox- ford 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. 110 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " 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 1" " 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 out- side 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 I" " Your health, Mr. Titmouse I — ^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 mth 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 naught to you. "Oh, sir, 'pon my honor, beg you won't name it — all one to me, sirl 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." TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. Ill " 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 &om all your friends, Mr. Titmouse." "Abroad, sir 1" interrupted Titmouse, with anxious but subdued eagerness ; " never thought of such a thing 1" "Oh I 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 & Snap — " No, sir — shall stay, and stick to friends that stick to me." " Take another glass of wine, Mr. Titmouse," interrupted Gammon, cor- dially, 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 Saflron Hill, and that of Huckaback on the subsequent occasion, as Ganamon found it diffi- cult 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 oould not help relieving your present necessities, even out of my own resources." [Oh, Gammon, Gammon !] " How 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 aflbrds instances of persons whose hearts contract as their purses ex- pand, Mr. Titmouse — ha I ha 1 Indeed, those who make their money as hard as Mr. Quirk, are apt to be slow at parting with it, and very suspi- cious !" " 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." 112 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. "No! Is he really, sir?" inquired Titmouse, eagerly. "That is," replied Gammon, quickly, "so long as I am at hie elbow, urging him on — for he wants some one who — hem 1 In fact, my dear sir, ever since I had the good fortune to make the disoorery, 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 Gam- mon 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 aU 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 1" 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 risk we ourselves incur personally--w6trld 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, were opened to their 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 otir wishes in all that we shall deem prudent and necessary, when not only your own best interests, but our cha- racters, liberties, and fortunes are staked on the issue of this great enter- prise? I am sure," continued Gammon, with great emotion, "you will feel for us, Mr. "Ktmouse. I see you do." Gammon put his hand over his eyes, in order, apparently, to conceal his emotion, but really to observe what efieet he had produced upon Titmouse. The conjoined influence of Gammon's wine and eloquence not a little agitated Titmouse, in whose eyes stood tears. "I'll do anything— anything, sir," he almost sobbed. "Oh! aU we wish is to be allowed to serve you eflfectually; and to enable us to do that " "Tell me to get into a soo^bag, and lie hid in a coal-hole, and see if I won't do it!" "What ! a ooid-hole ? Would you, then, even stop at Tag-rag & Co.'s?" " Ye-e-e-s, sir— hem ! hem 1 That is, tiU the tenth of next month, when my time's up." "-A^Ii 1— aj 1— ot, I understand! Another glass, Mr. Titmouse," said Gammon, pouring himself out some more wine, and observing, while Tit- mouse followed his example, that there was an unsteadiness in his motions of a very different description from that which he had exhibited at the TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 113 commencement of the evening — at the same time wondering what the deuce they should do with him after the tenth of August. " You see, / 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 looted eagerly about for writing materials.) " No, not now, but in a day or two's time. I confess, my dear Mr. Titmouse, if /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 I you understand ? Don't you think so, Mr. Titmouse?" " To be sure 1 'pon my honor, Mr. Gammon !" replied Titmouse, not very distinctly understanding, however, what he was so energetically assenting to. "I daresay you wonder why we wish you to stop a few months longer at your hiding-place at Tag-rag's ?" " Can't, possibly 1 — after the 10th of next month, sir,'' replied Titmouse, eagerly. " But as soon as we begin to fire off our guns against the enemy— ah, 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'U do !" " Make you very comfortable, and let you have your own way in every- thing ; 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 actual inconvenience ; and when you con- sider 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 Tit- mouse, 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 3 114 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. advaiu)es ; and also, (for J could not bear the sight of your distress, Mr. Tit- mouse) to supply your necessities liberally in the meantime, as I said." " Won't you take another glass of wine, Mr. Gammon ?" suddenly in- quired Titmouse, with a confident air. " With all my heart, Mr. Titmouse 1 I'm delighted that you approve of it. I paid eiiough for it, I can warrant you." "Cuss me if ever I tasted such winel Uncommon! Come— -no heel- taps, Mr. Gammon. Here goes — let's drink — success to the aflairl" " With all my heart-, my dear sir, — with all my heart. Success to the thing-^amen I" and Gammon drained his glass ; so did Titmouse. " Ah 1 Mr. Titmouse, you'll soon have wine enough to float a ti-igate — and indeed what not — with ten thousand a year \'.' " And all the back, rents, you know — ha, ha 1" " Yes, to be sure, the back rents I The sweetest estate that is to be, found in all Yorkshire I Gracious 1 Mr. Tittnouse/' 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. Ganmion, you a'n't dreaming? Nor I? But now, in course, you must be paid handsome for your trouble 1 Only say how much. Name your sum 1 What you please 1 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 pro-- vide 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 1 — only say the figure, sir 1" 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 cakel Oh, Lord !" quoth Titmouse, looking aghast. " A mere crumb, my dear sir ! — a trifle 1 Why, we are going to give you that sum at least every year; and indeed it was suggested to our firm tliat 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 — "ifs not to be thought of, sir." " So I said ; and as for throwing it up — to be sure we shall have ourselves tp 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 shan't do what you like I Giive 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!" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 115 "Hope you've not been so imprudent, my dear Titmouse," threw in 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 fiinny — it's like being at sea — up, down — oh dear 1" 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 rest- ing on the waves of the sea. " I'm afraid the room's rather close, Mr. Titmouse," hastUy 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 tlian he had cal- culated on. " Mrs. Brown ! Mrs. Brown !" he called out, opening the sitting-room door — " order a coach instantly, and tell Tomkins" — that was the inn por- ter — "to get his son ready to go home with this gentleman — he's not very well." He was quickly obeyed. It was, in truth, " aU wp" with Titmouse -r-at least for a whilei 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, sate pleasantly sipping his tea, now and then dipping into the edifying columns of the Sunday Flash, but oftener ruminating upon his recent con- versation 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 crack- ling sound was heard ; the writhing coils were then slowly unwound, and, with a shudder, he beheld the monster lickiug^ over the motionless figure, till it was covered with a viscid slime. Then the serpent began to devour its prey ; and when gorged and helpless; behold, it was immediately fallen upon by two other snakes. To his disturbed fancy, there was a dim resem- blance between their heads and those of Quirk and Snap — they all three became entwisted together— and writhed and struggled till they fell over the edge of a dark and flrightful precipice. He woke — thank God! it was only a dream. 116 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. CHAPTEB X. GAMMON TACKLING TAG-EAG. TTTHEN, after his return from Mr. Gammon's chambers, at Thavies' V V Inn, Titmouse woke at an early hour in the morning, he was labor- ing under the ordinary eflfects of unaccustomed inebriety. His lips were 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 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, daring the afternoon, to inquire after him. He did not get out of bed on Tuesday till past twelve o'clock, when, in a somewhat rickety condition, he made his appearance at the shop of Messrs. Tag-rag & 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, whitening 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 — ihal'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. Tit- mouse stood for a moment before the door, trembling and aghast, looking in a bewildered manner at the shop ; but Tag-rag again making his appear- ance, Titmouse slowly walked away and returned to his lodgings. Oh that Mr. Gammon had witnessed the scene, thought he, and so have been sat- isfied 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 sununarily, and inquired for Mr. Tag-rag, who presently presented himself, and recog- nizing 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. Gam- TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 117 mon, 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 ; he then occupied the chair oppo- site to him, and waited the issue with ill-disguised anxiety. " I am very sorry, Mr. Tag-rag," commenced Gammon, in his usual ele- gant and feeling manner, " that any misunderstanding should have arisen between you and Mr. Titmouse I" " 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. Tit- mouse's version, may I be favored with your account of your reasons for discharging him ? For he tells us that yesterday you dismissed him sud- denly from your employment without giving him any warn " " So I did, sir ; and what of that ?" inquired Tag-rag, tossing liis 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 some- what 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 1 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, emphati- cally. " Oh ! he is going to him, is he ? Ah, ha ! Bless my soul I So th.a£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 I" 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 I" 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 1" "Law, sal It's not justice I 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 suiSered at your hands— of the cause of your sudden warning to him, and your still more sudden dis- missal of yesterday. Oh, Mr. Tag-rag ! upon my honor, it won't do— not 118 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. for a moment ; and should you go on, rely upon wha,t I tell you, that it wijl cost you dear." "And suppose, sir," said Tag-rag, in a would-be contemptuous tome, "I should have witnesses to prove all I've said — ^which of us will look ftmay iken, sir?" " Which, indeed I 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 Ms 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 dmiet — that, you know, is what you must be prepared to prove, when you come into court I" " Well, sir I and which of us is likely to be best off' for witnesses 7 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 ? Krst and foremost, he's the most odious-mannered fellow I ever cajne pear-^and— he hadn't a shirt to his back when I first took him — ^the ungrateful wretch I Sir, if s at any rate not against the law, I suppose, to Ante a man ; — and if it isn't, how I hate Titmouse I" "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, apprehensively. " I daresay you may have felt, perhaps, rather surprised at the interest which I — in fact our office, the office of Quirk, Gammon & Snap, in Sal&on HiU — appear to have taken in Mr. Titmouse." " Why, sir, it's your look-out to see how you're tp.be paid for what you're doing — and I daresay lawyers generally keep a pretty sharp look-out in that direction !" Gammon smiled, and continued — " It may perhups a little surprise you, Mr. Tag-rag, to hear that your present (ought I to say, your laiet) shop- man, Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse, is at this moment probably the very luckiest man — ay, and one among the richest, too — in this kingdom." " Why, you don't mean to say he's drawn a prize in the lottery?" ex- claimed 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 un- doubted owner of an estate worth at least ten thousand a year, besides a vast accumulation of ready money !" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 119 " Ten thousand a year, sir I My Titmouse ! Tittlebat Titmouse 1 Ten -thousand a yearl it's quite impossible!" faltered Tag-rag, after a pause, having gone as pale as death. " I have as little doubt of the feet, however, sir, as I have that you yester^ day turned him out of doors, Mr. Tag-rag !" "But," said Mr. Tag-rag in a low tone, "who could have dreamt it? How was — really, Mr. Gammon — ^how was I to know it?" "That's the fact, however," said Gammon, shrugging his shoulders. Tag^rj^ 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 totounding 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 dis- covery, that tells you all this, 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 1" exclaimed Tag-rag, with an awe-struck air. "At the very least " " Lord, Mr. Gammon I Excuse me, sir, but how did you find it out ?" "Mere accident — a mere accidental discovery, sir, in the course of other professional inquiries I" "And does Mr. Titmouse know it?" " Ever since the day, Mr. Tag-rag, after that on which I called on him here 1" replied Gammon, pointedly. " You — don't — say — so I" 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 gentle- man I — ever — came near. I always thought there was something uncom- mon superior-like in his looks." " Yes, I think he is of rather an amiable turn," observed Gammon, with an expressive smile ; " very gentleman-like — and so intelligent " "Intelligent! Mr. Gammon, you should only have known him as I have known him. Well, to be sure 1 Lord! His only fault was, that he was above his business ; but when one comes to think of it, how could it be otherwise ? From the time I first clapped eyes on him — I — I — knew he was — a superior article — quite isuperior: you know what I mean, sir? he couldn't help it, of course — to be sure, he never was much liked by the other young men ; but that was jealousy — all jealousy I I saw that all the while." Here he looked at the door, and added in a very low tone, " Many sleepless nights has their bad treatment of Mr. Titmouse cost me ! Even I, now and then, used to look and speak sharply to him — just to keep him, as it were, down to the mark of the others — he was so uncommon handsome and genteel in his manner, sir. I remember telling my good lady, the very first day he came to me, that he was a gentleman born — or ought to have been one." Now, do you suppose, acute reader, that Mr. Tag-rag was insincere in 120 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. all this ? By no means. He spoke the real dictates of his heart, unaware of the sudden change which had taken place in his feelings. It certainly has an ugly look of improbability, but it was the VMivira of the beast, • his eye suddenly caught a glimpse of the golden calf, and he instinctively fell down and worshipped it. "Well, at all events," said Mr. Gammon, scarcely able to keep a serious expression on his face, " though he's not lived much like a gentleman hitherto, yet he wiU live for the future like a very great genUeman — and spend his money like one, too." " I — I — daresay— he will. I wonder how he vnU get through a quarter of it: what do you think he'll do, sir?" "Heaven only knows — he may very shortly do just what he likes. Go into the House of Commons, or — perhaps — have a peerage given him " " Lord, sir ! I feel as if I shouldn't be quite right again for the rest of the day. I own to you, sir, that all yesterday and to-day I've been on the point of going to Mr. Titmouse's lodgings to apologize for — for Good gracious me ! one can't take it all in at once — ten thousand a year I Many a lord hasn't got more — some not half as much, I'll be bound ; dear me, what wUl he do ! Well, one thing I'm sure of, he'll never have a truer Mend than plain Thomas Tag-rJ>er 27, IS—. "DearSiks: " Re Middldon. "Have you got the marriage settlements between these parties ready ? If so, please send them as soon as possible, for both the lady's and gentle- man's friends are (as usual in such cases) very pressing for them. "Puddimghead v. Qwichmt. " Plaintiff bought a horse of defendant in November last, 'warranted sound,' and paid for it on the spot £64. A week afterwards, his attention was accidentally drawn to the animal's head, and, to his infinite surprise, he discovered that the left eye was a glass eye, so closely resembling the other in color, that the difference could not be discovered except on a very close examination. I have seen it myself, and it is indeed wonderfully well done. My countrymen are certaialy pretty sharp hands in such mat- ters ; but this beats everything I ever heard of. Surely this is a breach of the warranty ? Or is it to be considered a patent defect, which would not be within the warranty? (See App.) Please take pleader's opinion, and particularly as to whether the horse could be brought into court to be viewed by the court and jury, which would have a great effect. If your 192 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. pleader thinks the action will lie, let him draw declaration, tiemae — Lan- cashire (for my client would have no chance with a Yorkshire jury), if you think the vefnue, is transitory, and that defendant would not be successful on a motion to change it. Qu. — Is the man who sold the horse to defendant a competent (see App.) witness for the plaintifi) to prove that, when he sold it to defendant, it had but one eye, and that on this account the horse was sold for less ? "MideY.Stott. " I cannot get these parties to come to an anucable settlement. You may remember, from the two former actions, that it is for damages on account of two geese of defendant having been found trespassing on a few yards of a field belonging to the plaintiff. Defendant now contends that he is entitled to common, pour camse de viainage. Qu. — Can this be shown under Not Guilty, or must it be pleaded specially ? About two years ago, by the way, a pig belonging to plaintiff got into defendant's flower-garden, and did at least £3 worth of damage. Can this be in any way set off against the present action ? There is no hope of avoiding a third trial, as the par- ties are now more exasperated against each other than ever, and the ex- pense (as at least fifteen witnesses will be called on each side) will amovmt to upwards of £250. You had better retain Mr. Cacklegander. " JJe Lords Oldacre and De la Zovxik. " Are the deeds herein engrossed ? As it is a miatter of magnitude, and the foundation of extensive and permanent family arrangements, pray let the greatest care be taken to secure accuracy. Please take special care of the stamps. " Thus far had the worthy writer proceeded with his letter, when Waters made his appearance, delivering to him the declaration in ejectment which had been served upon old Jolter, and also the instructions concerning it which had been given by Mr. Aubrey. After Mr. Parkinson had asked particularly concerning Mr. Aubrey's health, and what had brought him so suddenly to Yatton, he cast his eye hastily over the " Declaration," and at once and contemptuously came to the same conclusion concerning it which had been arrived at by "Waters and Mr. Aubrey, namely, that it was another little arrow out of the quiver of the litigious Mr. Tomkius. As soon as Waters had left, Mr. Parkinson thus proceeded to conclude his letter : — " Doe dem. Titmonise v. Roe. "1 enclose you Declaration herein, served yesterday. No doubt it is the disputed slip of waste land adjoining the cottage of old Jacob Jolter, a tenant of Mr. Aubrey of Yatton, that is sought to be recovered. I am quite sick of this petty annoyance, as also is Mr. Aubrey, who is now down here. Please call on Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, of Safiron Hill, and settle the matter finally, on the best terms you can, it being Mr. Aubrey's wish that old Jolter (who is very feeble and timid) should suffer no incon- venience. I observe u, new lessor of the plaintiff, with a very singular TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. 193 name. I suppose it is the name of some prior liolder of the acre or two of property at present held by Mr. Tomkins. " Hoping soon to hear from you (particularly about the marriage-settle- ment), " I am, dear sir, "With all the compliments of the season, " Yours very truly, "James Paekinson. " Messrs. EuuHiHGTOit & Co. "P.S. — The oysters and codfish came to hand in excellent order, for which please accept my best thanks. " I shall remit you in a day or two £100 on account." This letter, lying among some twenty or thirty similar ones on Mr. Eun- nington's table, on the morning of its arrival in town, was opened jn its turn; and then, in like manner, with most of the others, handed over to the managing clerk, in order that he might inquire into and report upon the state of the various matters of business referred to. As to the last item (Doe dem. Titmmae v. Boe) in Mr. Parkinson's letter, there seemed no particular reason for hurrying ; so two or three days had elapsed before Mr. Eunnington, having some little casual business to transact with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, bethought himself of looking at his diary, to see if there were not something else that he had to do with that very sharp " house." Putting, therefore, the declaration in Doe d. Titmouse v. iJoe into his pocket, it was not long before he was to be seen at the office in Saffron TTi'll — and in the very room in it which had been the scene of several memorable interviews between Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse and Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap. I shall not detail what transpired on that occasion be- tween Mr. Eunnington and Messrs. Quirk and Gammon, with whom he was closeted for nearly an hour. On quitting the office his cheek was flushed, and his manner somewhat excited. After walking a little way in a moody manner, and with slow step, he suddenly jumped into a hackney coach, and within a quarter of an hour's time had secured an inside place in the TaUy-ho coach, which started for York at two o'clock that after- noon — ^much doubting within himself, the while, whether he ought not to have set off at once in a post-chaise and four. He then made one or two calls in the Temple ; and, hurrying home to the office, made hasty arrange- ments for his sudden journey into Yorkshire. He was a calm and expe- rienced man — in fact, a iirst-rate man of business ; and you may be assured that this rapid and decisive movement of his had been the result of some very startling disclosure made to him by Messrs. Quirk and Gammon. 13 194 TEN TEOVSAND A YEAR. CHAPTEE IV. COUNTRY LIFE ; YATTON ; FOTHEEINGHAM ; THE TWO BEATTTIES ; AND AN ANGEL BESET BY AN IMP. LET US now glide back to the delightful solitude which we reluctantly quitted so short a time ago. Mr. Aubrey was a studious and ambitious man ; and in acceding so readily to the wishes of his wife and sister, to spend the Christmas recess at Yatton, had been not a little influenced by one consideration, which he had not thought it worth while to mention^ namely, that it would aiFord him an opportunity of addressing himself with efiect to an important and complicated question, which was to be brought before the House shortly after. its reassembling, and of which he then knew, comparatively speaking, nothing at all. For this purpose he had had a quantity of Pailiameutary papers, &c., &c., &c., packed up and sent down by coach ; and he quite gloated over the prospect of their being duly deposited upon his table, in the tranquU leisure of his library at Yatton. But quietly as he supposed all this to have been managed, Mrs. Aubrey and Kate had a most accurate knowledge of his movements, and a shrewd suspicion of his purposes, and resolved within themselves (being therein comforted and assisted by old Mrs. Aubrey) that, as at their instances Mr. Aubrey had come down to Yatfon, so they would take care that he should have not merely nominal, but real holidays. Unless he thought fit to rise at an eai-ly hour in the morning (which Mrs. Aubrey, junior, took upon herself to say she would take care should never be the case), it was decreed that he should not be allowed to waste more than two hours a day alone in his library. 'Twas therefore vain for him to sit at breakfast with eye aslant and thought-laden brow, as if meditating a long day's seclusion ; somehow or another, "he never got more than an hour to himself. He was often momentarily petulant on these occasions, and soon saw through the designs of his enemies ; but he so heartily and tenderly loved them — so thoroughly appreciated the affec- tion which dictated their little manoeuvres — that he soon surrendered at discretion, and, in fact, placed himself almost entirely at their mercy, resolving to make up for lost time on his return to town, and earnestly hoping that the interests of the nation would not suffer in the meanwhile. In short, the ladies of Yatton had agreed on their line of operations : that almost every night of their stay in the ctSuntry should be devoted either to entertaining or visiting their neighbors ; arid as a preparatory movement, that the days, weather permitting, should be occupied with exercise in the open air^ in making "morning" calls on neighbors at several miles' dis- tance from the Hall and from each other ; and from which they generally returned only in time enough to dress for dinner. As soon, indeed, as the York True Blue, the leading county paper, had announced the arrival at Yatton of "Charles Aubrey, Esq., M.P., and his family, for the Christmas recess," the efforts of Mrs. and Miss Aubrey were most powerfully seconded by a constant succession of visitors — ^by " Troops of friends," TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. 195 as the lodge-keeper could have testified, for he and his buxom wife were continually opening and shutting the great gates. On the Monday after Christmas-day came cantering up to the Hall Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Delamere, of course staying to luncheon, and bearing a most pressing in- vitation from Lady De la Zouch, zealously backed by themselves, for the Aubreys to join a large party at Fotheringham Castle on New Year's Eve. This was accepted — a day and a night were thus gone at a swoop. The same thing happened with the Oldfields, their nearest neighbors ; with Sir Percival Pickering at Luddington Court, where was a superb new picture- gallery to be critically inspected by Mr. Aubrey — the Earl of Oldacre, a college friend of Mr. Aubrey's — ^the venerable Lady Stratton, the earliest friend and school-fellow of old Mrs. Aubrey, and so forth. Then Kate had several visits to pay on her own account ; and, being fond of horseback, but not of riding about the country with only a groom in attendance, her brother must accompany her on these occasions. The first week of their stay in the country was devoted to visiting their neighbors and Mends in the way I have stated ; the next was to be spent in receiving them at Yatton, during which time the old Hall was to ring with merry hospi- tality. Then there was a little world of other matters to occupy Mr. Aubrey's attention, and which naturally crowded upon him, living so little as he had latterly lived at Yatton. He often had a kind of levee of his humbler neighbors, tenants, and constituents ; and on these occasions his real good- ness of nature, his simplicity, his patience, his forbearance, his sweetness of temper, his benevolence, shone conspicuous. With all these more en- dearing qualities, there was yet a placid dignity about him which would have chilled undue fEimiliarity, and repelled presumption — ^had they ven- tured to manifest themselves. He had here no motive or occasion for ostentation, or, as it is called, popularity-hunting, had he been so disposed. In a sense, it might be said of him, that he was " monarch of all he sur- veyed." It is true, he was member for the borough — an honor, however, for which he was indebted to the natural infiuence of his commanding position ; one which left him his own master, not converting him into a paltry delegate, handcuffed by pledges on public questions, and laden with injunctions concerning petty local interests only — ^Uable, moreover, to be called to an account at any moment by ignorant and insolent demagogues — but a member of Parliament, training to become a statesman, possessed of a free wiU, and, therefore, capable of independent and enlightened de- liberations ; placed by his fortune above the reach of temptation — but I shall not go any further, for the portraiture of a member of Parliament of those days suggests such a humiliating and bitter contrast, that I shall not ruffle either my own or my reader's temper by sketching one of modem days. On the occasion I have been alluding to, Mr. Aubrey was not only condescending and generous, but practically acute and discriminating; qualities of his, these latter, so well known, however, as to leave him at length scarce any opportunity of exercising them. His quiet but decisive interference put an end to many local unpleasantnesses and annoyances, and caused his increasing absence from Yatton to be justly and deeply re- 196 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. gretted. Was a lad, or a wench, taking to idle or dissolute courses ? A kind, or, as the occasion required, a stern expostulation of his — ^for he was a, justice of the peace moreover — brought them to their senses. He had a very happy knack of reasoning and laughing quarrelsome neighbors into reconciliation and good humor. He had a keen eye after the practical details of agriculture ; was equally quick at detecting an inconvenience, and appreciating, sometimes even suggesting, an efiectual remedy; and had, on several occasions, brought such knowledge to bear effectively upon discussion in Parliament. His constituents, few in number undoubtedly, and humble, were quite satisfied with, and proud of, their member ; and his unexpected appearance diffused among them real and general satisfac- tion. As a landlord, he was beloved by his numerous tenantry ; and well he might be, for never was there a more easy and liberal landlord: he might at any time have increased his rental by £1500 or £2000 a year, as his steward frequently intimated to him — but in vain. " Ten thousand a year," would say Mr. Aubrey, " is far more than my necessities require ; it affords me and my family every luxury that I can conceive of; and its magnitudereminds me constantly that hereafter I shall be called upon to give a strict and solemn account of my stewardship." I would my space could admit of my completing as it ought to be completed, this portraiture of a true Christian gentleman. As he rode up to the Hare and Hounds Inn, at Grilston, one morning, to transact some little business, and also to look in on the Farmers' Club, which was then holding one of its fortnightly meetings, every one touch- ing his hat and bowing to him on each side of the long street, as he slowly passed up it, he perceived that his horse limped on one foot. On dismount- ing, therefore, he stopped to see what was the matter, while his groom took up the foot to examine it. " Dey-vilish fine horse !" exclaimed the voice of one standing close beside him, and in a tone of most disagreeable confidence. The exclama- tion was addressed to Mr. Aubrey, who, on turning surprisedly to the speaker, beheld a young man ('twas, in fact. Titmouse) dressed in a style of the most extravagant absurdity. One hand was stuck into the hinder pocket of a stylish top-coat, the everlasting tip of a white pocket-handker- chief glistening at the mouth of his breast-pocket ; the other held a cigar to his mouth, from which, after addressing Mr. Aubrey with an air of signal assurance, he slowly expelled the smoke which he had inhaled. Mr. Aubrey wondered where he had seen the ridiculous object before. " The horses in these parts am't to be compared with them at London — eh, sir?" quoth Titmouse, approaching closer to Mr. Aubrey and his groom, to, see what the latter was doing — ^who, on hearing Titmouse's last sally, gave him a very significant look. "I'm afraid the people here won't relish your remarks, sir," replied Mr. Aubrey, calmly, hardly able to forbear a smile ; at the same time, with an astonished air, scanning the figure of his companion from head to foot. " Who cares ?" inquired Titmouse, with a very energetic oath. At this moment np came a farmer, who, observing Mr. Aubrey, made him a very TEN THOVSANn A YEAR. 197 low bow. Mr. Aubrey's attention being at the moment occupied with Titmouse, he did not observe the salutation ; not so with Titmouse, who, conceiving it to have been directed to himself, acknowledged it by taking off his hat with great grace. Mr. Aubrey presently entered the house, having ordered his groom to bring back the horse in an hour's time. " Pray," said he mildly to the landlady, " who is that person smoking the cigar outside ?" "Why, sir," she replied, "he calls himself Mr. Brmrni; and has another with him here, who's going up to London by this afternoon's coach. This one stays behind a day or two longer. They're queer people, sir. Such dandies 1 Do nothing but smoke, and drink brandy-and- water, sir ; only that t'other writes a good deal." " Well, I wish you would remind him," said Mr. Aubrey, smiling, " that, if he thinks fit to speak to me again, or in my presence, I am a magistrate, and have the power of fining him five shillings for every oath he utters." "What, sir," quoth she, reverently — "has he been speaking to your worship? WeU, I never I He's the most forward little upstart I ever see'd I" said she, dropping her voice ; " and the sooner he takes himself off from here the better ; for he's always winking at the maids, and talking impudence to them. I'll box his ears, I warrant him, one of these times." Mr. Aubrey smiled, and went up stairs. " There don't seem to be much wrong," quoth Titmouse to the groom, with a condescending air, as soon as Mr. Aubrey had entered the house. " Much you know about it, I don't guess," quoth Sam, with a contemp- tuous smile. " Who's your master, fellow ?" inquired Titmouse, knocking off the ashes from the tip of his cigar. "A gentleman. What's yours f" " Curse your impudence, you vagabond " The words were hardly out of his mouth before Sam, with a slight tap of his hand, had knocked Titmouse's glossy hat off his head, and Titmouse's purple-hued hair stood exposed to view, provoking the jeers and laughter of one or two bystand- ers. Titmouse appeared about to strike the groom, who, hastily giving the bridles of his horses into the hands of an hostler, threw himself into boxing attitude ; and being a clean, tight-built, stout young fellow, looked a very formidable object, as he came squaring nearer and nearer to the dismayed Titmouse ; and on behalf of the outraged honor of aU the horses of Yorkshire, was just going to let fly his one-two, when a sharp tapping at the bow-window overhead startled him for a moment, interrupting his war- like demonstrations ; and on casting up his eyes, he beheld the threatening figure of his master, who was shaking his whip at him. He dropped his guard, touched his hat very humbly, and resumed his horses' bridles ; muttering, however, to Titmouse, " If thou'rt a man, come down into th' yard, and I'll make thee think a horse kicked thee, a liar as thou art." " Who's that gentleman gone up stairs 7" inquired Titmouse of the land- lady, after he had sneaked into the inn. 198 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " Squire Aubrey, of Y atton," she replied tartly. Titmouse's face, pre-d- ously very pale, flushed all over. " Ay, ay," she continued sharply, " thou must be diattering to the grand folks, and thou'st nearly put thy foot into't at last, I can tell thee ; for that's a magistrate, and thou'st been a-swearing afore him." Titmouse smiled rather faintly; and entering the parlor, affected to be engaged with a county newspaper ; and he remained very quiet for upwards of an hour, not venturing out of the room till he had seen off Mr. Aubrey and his formidable Sam. It was the hunting season ; but Mr. Aubrey, though he had as fine horses as were to be found in the country, and which were always at the service of his friends, partly from want of inclination, and partly from the delicacy of his constitution, never shared in the sports of the field. Now and then, however, he rode to cover, to see the hounds throw off, and exchange greet- ings with a great number of his friends and neighbors, on such occasions collected together. This he did the morning after that on which he had visited Grilston, accompanied, at their earnest entreaty, by Mrs. Aubrey and Eate. I am not painting angels, but describing frail human nature ; and truth forces me to say that Kate had a kind of a notion that on such occasions she did not appear to disadvantage. I protest I love her not the less for it I Is there a beautiful woman under the sun who is not really aware of her charms, and of the effect they produce upon our sex ? Pooh I I never will believe to the contrary. 'Tis, indeed, ordered so ! In Kate's composition this ingredient was but an imperceptible alloy in virgin gold. Now, how was it that she came to think of this hunting appointment ? I do not exactly know ; but still I recollect that when Lord De la Zouch last called at Yatton, he happened to mention it at lunch, and to say that he and one Geoffrey Level Delamere but however that may be, behold, on a bright Thursday morning, Aubrey and his two lovely companions make their welcome appearance at the field, superbly mounted, and most cordially greeted by all present. Miss Aubrey attracted universal admi- ration ; but there was one handsome youngster, his well-formed figure showing to great advantage in his new pink and leathers, who made a point of challenging her special notice, and in doing so, attracted that of all his envious fellow-sportsmen, — and that was Delamere. He seemed, indeed, infinitely more taken up with the little party from Yatton than with the serious affair of the day. His horse, however, had an eye to business; and with erect ears, catching the first welcome signal sooner than the gallant person who sat upon it, sprang off like lightning, and would have left its abstracted rider behind, had he not been a first-rate "seal." In fact, Kate herself was not quite sufliciently on her guard; and her eager filly suddenly put in requisition all her rider's little strength and skill to rein her in — ^which having done, Kate's eye looked rather anxiously after her late companion, who, however, had already cleared the first hedge, and was fast making up to the scattering scarlet crowd. Oh, the bright exhilarating scene I " Heigh ho, Agnes I" said Kate, with a slight sigh, as soon as Delamere had disappeared ; " I was very nearly off." " So was somebody else, Kate 1" said Mrs. Aubrey, with a demure smile. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 199 " This is a very cool contrivance of yours, Kate, — ^bringing us here this morning," said her brother. " What do you mean, Charles ?" she inquired, slightly reddening. He good-naturedly tapped her shoulder with his whip, laughed, urged his horse into a canter, and they were all soon on their way to General Grim's, an old friend of the late Mr. Aubrey's. The party assembled on New- Year's Eve at Fotheringham Castle, the magnificent residence of Lord De la Zouoh, was numerous and brilliant. The Aubreys arrived about five o'clock ; and on emerging from their re- spective apartments into the drawing-room, soon after the welcome sound of the dinner-bell — Mr. Aubrey leading in his lovely wife, followed shortly afterwards by his beautifal sister — ^they attracted general attention. He himself looked handsome, for the brisk country air had brought out a glow upon his too frequently pallid countenance — pallid with the unwhole- some atmosphere, the late hours, the wasting excitement of the House of Commons; and his smile was cheerful, his eye bright and penetrating. Nothing makes such quick triumphant way in English society as the pro- mise of speedy political distinction. It will supply to its happy possessor the want of family and fortune; it rapidly melts away all distinctions. The obscure but eloquent commoner finds himself suddenly standing in the rarefied atmosphere of privilege and exclusiveness ; the familiar equal, often the conscious superior, of the haughtiest peer of the realm. A single successful speech in the House of Commons, opens before its utterer the shining doors of fashion and greatness, as if by magic. It is as it were PowBB stepping into its palace, welcomed by gay crowds of eager, obse- quious expectants. Who would not press forward to grasp in anxious welcome the hand which, in a few short years, may dispense the glittering baubles sighed after by. the great, and the more substantial patronage of office — which may point public opinion in any direction ? But, to go no further, what if to all this be added a previous position in society, such as that occupied by Mr. Aubrey ! There were, several charming women, married and single, in that splendid drawing-room ; but there were two girls, in very difierent styles of beauty, who were soon allowed by' all present to carry off the palm between them — I mean Miss Aubrey und Lady Caroline Caversham, the only daughter of the Marchioness of Ked- borough, both of whom were on a visit at the castle. Lady Caroline and Miss Aubrey were of about the same age, and were dressed almost exactly alike, namely, in white satin; only Lady Caroline wore a brilliant diamond necklace, whereas Kate had chosen to appear without a single ornament. Lady Caroline was a trifle the taller, and had a stately carriage. Her hair was black as jet — ^her features were refined and delicate; but they wore a cold, haughty expression. After a glance at her half-closed eyes, and the swan-like curve of her snowy neck, you unconsciously withdrew from her, as from an inaccessible beauty. The more you looked at her, the more she satisfied your critical scrutiny ; but youi feelings went not out towards her — they were, in a manner, chilled and repulsed. Look, now, at our own Kate Aubrey — nay, never fear to place her beside yon super- 200 TEN TBOUSAND A YEAR. cilioua divinity — ^look at her, and your heart acknowledges her loveliness ; your soul thrills at sight of her bewitching blue eyes — eyes now sparkling ■with excitement, then languishing with softness, in accordance with the varying emotions of a sensitive nature — a most susceptible heart. How her sunny curls harmonize with the delicacy and richness of her com- plexion I Her figure, observe, is, of the two, a trifle fuller than her rival's — stay, don't let your admiring eyes settle so intently upon her budding form, or you will confuse Kate — ^tum away, or she will shrink from you like the sensitive plant! Lady Caroline seems the exquisite but frigid production of a sldlUul statuary, who had caught a divinity in the very act of disdainfully setting her foot for the first time upon this poor earth of ours ; but Kate is a living and breathing beauty, as it were, fresh firom the hand of God himself! Kate was very affectionately greeted by Lady De la Zouch, a lofty and dignified woman of about fifty ; so also by Lord De la Zouch ; but when young Delamere welcomed her with a palpable embarrassment of manner, a more brilliant color stole into her cheek, and a keen observer might have noticed a little, rapid, undulating motion in her bosom, which told of some inward emotion. And a keen observer Kate at that moment had in her beautiful rival, from whose cheek, as that of Kate deepened in its roseate bloom, faded away the color entirely, leaving it the hue of the lily — while her bosom heaved, almost visibly. Her drooping eyelids could scarcely conceal the glances of alarm and anger which she darted at her plainly successful rival in the affections of the ftiture Lord De la Zouch. Kate was quickly aware of this state of matters ; and it required no little self- control to appear wm-aware of it. Delamere took her down to dinner, and seated himself beside her, and unconsciously paid her such pointed atten- tions as at length really distressed poor Kate ; and she was quite relieved when the time came for the ladies to withdraw. That she had not a secret yearning towards Delamere, the frequent companion of her early days, I cannot assert, because I know it would be contrary to the fact. Circum- stances had kept him on the continent for more than a year between the period of his quitting Eton and going to Oxford, where another twelve- month had slipped away without his visiting Yorkshire. Thus two years had elapsed ; and behold, blooming Kate had become a woman, and he a man I They had mutual predispositions towards each other, and it was mere accident which of them first manifested symptoms of fondness — ^the same result must have followed, namely, to use a great word — reciproca- tion. Lord and Lady De la Zouch idolized their son, and were old and firm friends of the Aubrey family ; and if Delamere really formed an attachment to one of Miss Aubrey's beauty, accomplishments, talent, amia- bility, and ancient family, why should he not be gratified ? Kate, whether she would or not, was set down to the piano, Lady Caroline accompanying her on the harp, on which she usually performed with mingled skill and grace ; but on the present occasion, both the fair performers found fault with their instruments, then with themselves, and presently gave up the attempt in despair. But when, at a later period of the evening, Kate's spirits had been a little exhilarated with dancing, and she sat down, at TEN THOVSAND A YEAR. 201 Lord De la Zouch's request, and gave that exquisite song from the Tem- pest, " Where the Bee Sucks," all the -witchery of her voice and manner had returned ; and as for Delamere, he would have given the world to marry her that minute, and so forever extinguish the hopes of — as he imagined — two or three nascent competitors for the beautiful prize, then listening to his nightingale. That Kate was good as beautiful, the following little incident, which happened to her on the ensuing evening, will show. There was a girl in the village at Yatton, about sixteen or seventeen years old, called Phoebe WiUiams — a very pretty girl, and who had spent about two years at the HaU as a laimdry-maid, but had been obliged, some few months before the time I am speaking of, to return to her parents in the village, ill of a de- cline. She was a sweet-tempered girl, and all her fellow-servants had felt great interest in her, as also did Miss Aubrey. Mrs. Aubrey daily sent her jellies, sago, and other such matters, suitable for the poor girl's condition. About a quarter of an hour after her return from Fotheringham, Miss Aubrey, finding one of the female servants about to set off with some of the above-mentioned articles, and hearing that poor Phoebe was getting rapidly worse, instead of retiring to her room to undress, slipped on an additional shawl, and resolved to accompany the servant to the village. She said not a word to either her mother, her sister-in-law, or her brother, but simply left word with her maid whither she was going, and that she should quickly return. It was snowing smartly when Kate set off; but she cared not, hurried on by the impulse of kindness, which led her to pay perhaps a last visit to the humble sufferer. She walked alongside of the elderly female servant, asking her a number of questions about Phoebe, and her sorrowing father and mother. It was nearly dark as they quitted the Park gates, and snowing, if anything, faster than when they had left the Hall. Kate, wrapping her shawl still closer round her slender figure, her face being pretty well protected by her veil, hurried on, and they soon reached Williams' cottage. Its humble tenants were, as may be imagined, not a little surprised at her appearance at such an hour and in such in- clement weather, and so apparently unattended. Poor Phoebe, worn to a shadow, was sitting opposite the fire, in a little wooden arm-chair, and propped up by a pillow. She trembled, and her lips moved on seeing Miss Aubrey, who, sitting down on a stool beside her, after laying aside her snow-whitened shawl and bonnet, spoke to her in the most gentle and soothing strain imaginable. What a contrast in their two figures I It would have been no violent stretch of imagination to say that Catherine Aubrey at that moment looked like a ministering angel sent to comfort the wretched sufferer in her extremity. Phoebe's father and mother stood on each side of the little fireplace, gazing with tearful eyes upon their only child, soon to depart from them forever. The poor girl was indeed a touching object. She had been, as I have said, very pretty ; but now her face was white and woefully emaciated — the dread impress of consumption was upon it. Her wasted fingers were clasped together on her lap, holding between them a little handkerchief, with which, evidently with great effort, she occasionally wiped the dampness from her face. 202 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. "You're very good, ma'am," she whispered, "to come to see me, and so late. They say it's a sad cold night." " I heard, Phoebe, that you were not so well, and I thought I would just step along with Margaret, who has brought you some more jelly. Did you like the last?" " Y-e-es, ma'am," she replied, hesitatingly; "but it's very hard for me to swallow anything now, my throat feels so sore." Here her mother shook her head and looked aside, for the doctor had only that morning explained to her the nature of the distressing symptom to which her daughter was alluding, as evidencing the very last stage of her feital disorder. "I'm very sorry to hear you say so, Phoebe,'' repHed Miss Aubrey. "Do you think there's anything else that Mrs. Jackson could make for you ?" " No, ma'am, thank you ; I feel it's no use trying to swallow anything more," said poor Phoebe, faintly. . " While there's life," whispered Miss Aubrey, in a subdued, hesitatjug tone, " there's hope — ^they say." Phoebe shook her head mournfully. " Don't stop long, dear lady ; it's getting very late for you to be out alone. Father will go " " Never mind me, Phoebe, — I can take care of myself. I hope you mind what good Dr. Tatham says to you? You know this sickness is from God, Phoebe. He knows what is best for his creatures." "Thank God ! ma'am, I think I feel resigned. I know it is God's will; butPm very sorry for poor father and mother — they'll be so lone like when they don't see Phoebe about." Her father gazed intently at her, and the tears ran trickling down his cheeks ; her mother put her apron before her face, and shook her head in silent anguish. Miss Aubrey did. not speak for a few moments. " I see you have been reading the prayer-book mamma, gave you when you were at the Hall," said she at length, observ- ing the little volume lying open on Phoebe's lap. " Yes, ma'am, I was trying ; but somehow lately I can't read, for there's a kind of mist comes over my eyes, and I can't see." " That's weakness, Phcebe," said Miss Aubrey, quickly but tremulously. " May I make bold, ma'am," commenced Phoebe, languidly, after a hesi- tating pause, " to ask you to read the little psalm I was trying to read a while ago ? I should so like to hear ymi 1" " Fll try, Phoebe," said Miss Aubrey, taking the book, which was open at the sixth Psalm. It was a severe trial, for her feelings were not a little excited already. But how could she refuse the dying girl? So Miss Aubrey began, a little indistinctly, in a low tone, and with frequent pauses, for the tears every now and then quite obscured her sight. She managed, however, to get as far as the sixth verse, which was thus : — " I am weary of my groaning : every nigM wash I my bed, and water my couch with tears : My beauty is gone for very trouble." Here Kate's voice suddenly stopped. She hid her face for a moment or two in her handkerchief, and said hastily, " I can't read any more, Phoebe 1" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 203 Every one in the little room was in tears except poor Phoebe, who seemed past that. "It's time for me to go, now, Phoebe. We'll send some one early in the morning to know how you are," said Miss Aubrey, rising and putting on her bonnet and shawl. She contrived to beckon Phoebe's mother to the back of the room, and silently slipped a couple of guineas into her hands ; for she knew the mournful occasion there would soon be for such assist- ance. She then left, peremptorily declining the attendance of Phoebe's fether — saying that it must be dark when she could not find the way to the Hall, wMch was almost in a straight line from the cottage, and little more than a quarter of a mile off. It was very much darker, and it still snowed, though not so thickly as when she had come. She and Margaret walked side by side, at a quick pace, talking together about poor Phoebe. Just as she was approaching the extremity of the village, nearest the park, and with her mind's eye filled with the sad figure of Phoebe, — " Ah ! my lovely gals 1" exclaimed a voice, in a low but most offensive tone — " alone 7 . How uncommon" Miss Aubrey for a moment seemed thunderstruck at so sudden and unprecedented an occurrence: then she hurried on with a beating heart, whispering to Margaret to keep close to her, and not to be alarmed. The speaker, however, kept pace with them. "Lovely gals I — wish I'd an umbrella, my angels ! Take my arm? Ahl Pretty gals !" "Who are you, sir?" at length exclaimed Kate, spiritedly, suddenly stopping, and turning to the rude speaker. Who else should it be but Tittlebat Titmouse ! "Who am I? Ah, ha, lovely gals ! one that loves the pretty gals !" "Do you know, fellow, who I am?" inquired Miss Aubrey, indignantly, flinging aside her veil, and disclosing her beautiful face, white as death, but" indistinctly visible in the darkness, to her insolent assailant. " No, 'pon my soul, no ; but lovely gal, lovely gal ! — 'pon my life, spirited gal I — do you no harm ! Take my arm ?" " Wretch ! ruffian 1 How dare you insult a lady in this manner? Do you know who I am ? My name, sir, is Aubrey — ^I am Miss Aubrey, of the Hall. Do not think " Titmouse felt as if he were on the point of dropping down dead at that moment^ with amazement and terror,' and when Miss Aubrey's servant screamed out at the top of her voice, " Help 1 — help, there 1" Titmouse, with- out uttering a syllable more, took to his heels, just as the door of a cottage, at only a few yards' distance, opened, and out rushed a strapping farmer, shouting — "Hey ! what be th' matter?" You may guess his amazement on discovering Miss Aubrey, and his fury at learning the cause of her alarm. Out of doors he pelted, without his hat, uttering a volley of fearful impre- cations, and calling on the unseen miscreant to come forward ; for whom it was lucky that he had time to escape from a pair of fists that in a minute or two wotild have beaten his little carcass into a jelly.l As soon as Miss Aubrey had a little recovered from her agitation, she set off home, accom- panied by Margaret, and followed very closely by the farmer, with a tre- mendous knotted stick under his arm (he wanted to have taken his double- 204 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. barrelled gun), and thus she soon reached the Hall, not a little tired and agitated. This incident, however, she kept to herself, and enjoined her two attendants to do the same ; for she knew the distress it would have occar sioned those whom she loved. As it was, she was somewhat sharply re- buked by her mother and brother, who had just sent two servants out in quest of her, and whom it was singular that she should have missed. This is not the place to give an account of the eccentric movements of our Mend Titmouse ; still there can be no harm in my just intimating that the sight of Miss Aubrey, on horseback, had half maddened the little fool; her image had never been effaced from his memory since the occasion on which, as already explained, he had jSrst seen her; and as soon as he had ascertained, through Snap's inquiries, who she was, he became more fren- zied in the matter than before, because he thought he now saw a probability of obtaining her. " If, like children," says Edmund Burke, " we will cry for the moon, why, like children, we must — cary on." Whether this was not something like the position of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse, in his passion for Catherine Aubrey, the reader can judge. He had unbosomed him- self in the matter to his confidential adviser Mr. Snap, who, having accom- plished his errand, had the day before returned to town, very much against his will, leaving Titmouse behind, to bring about by his own delicate and skillful management an union between himself, as the future lord of Yatton, and the beauti&il sister of its present occupant. CHAPTEB V. THE EXPLOSION Or THE HAND-GEENADE ; SHATTERED HOPES AND HAPPINESS. MK. AUBEEY and Kate, some day or two after the strange occurrence narrated in the last chapter, were sitting together playing at chess, about eight o'clock in the evening. Dr. Tatham and Mrs. Aubrey, junior, looking on with much interest ; old Mrs. Aubrey was engaged in writing. Mr. Aubrey was sadly an overmatch for poor Kate — he being, in fact, a first-rate player ; and her soft white hand had been hovering over the three or four chessmen she had left, uncertain which of them to move, for nearly two minutes, her chin resting on the other hand, and her face wearing a very puzzled expression. " Come, Kate," said every now and then her brother, with that calm victorious smile which at such a moment would have tried any but so sweet a temper as his sister's. " If I were you. Miss Aubrey," was perpetually exclaiming Dr. Tatham, knowing as much about the game, the while, as her little Blenheim spaniel lying asleep at her feet. "Oh, dear!" -said Kate, at length, with a sigh, "I really don't see " " Who can that be 7" exclaimed young Mi-s. Aubrey, looking up and listening to the sound of carriage wheels. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 205 "Never mind," said her husband, who was interested in the game — "come, come, Kate." A few minutes afterwards a servant made his appear- ance, and coming up to Mr. Aubrey, told him that Mr. Parkinson and another gentleman had called, and were waiting in the library to speak to him on business. " What can they want at this hour ?" exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, absently, intently watching an anticipated move of his sister's which would have decided the game in his favor. At length she made her long-meditated descent — ^but in quite an unexpected quarter. " Checkmate !" she exclaimed, with infinite glee. "Ah!" cried he, rising with a slightly surprised and chagrined air, "I'm mined ! Now, try your hand on Dr. Tatham, while I go and speak to these people. I wonder what can possibly have brought them here I Oh, I see — I see ; 'tis probably about Miss Evelyn's marriage-settlement — I'm to be one of her trustees." With this he left the room, and presently entered the library, where were two gentlemen, one of whom, a stranger, was in the act of pulling off his greatcoat. It was Mr. Eunnington — a tall, thin, elderly man, with short gray hair, of gentlemanly appearance, his countenance bespeaking the calm, acute, clear-headed man of business. The other was Mr. Parkinson — a thoroughly respectable, substantial-look- ing, hard-headed family solicitor and country attorney. " Mr. Eunnington, my London agent, sir," said he to Mr. Aubrey, as the latter entered. Mr. Aubrey bowed. " Pray, gentlemen, be seated," he replied, with his usual calm urbanity, taking a chair beside them. "Why, Mr. Parkinson, you look very serious — both of you. What is the matter ?" he inquired, surprisedly. "Mr. Eunnington, sir, has arrived, most unexpectedly to me," replied Mr. Parkinson, in a slightly flustered manner, " only an hour or two ago, from London, on business of the last importance to you." "To me I — ^well, what is it? Pray, say at once what it is — I am all attention," said Mr. Aubrey, anxiously. ■" Do you happen," commenced Mr. Parkinson, very nervously, " to re- member sending Waters to me on Monday or Tuesday last, with a paper which had been served by some one on old Jolter ?" " Certainly," replied Mr. Aubrey, after a moment's consideration. " Mr. Eunnington's errand is connected with that document," said Mr. Parkinson, and paused. "Indeed I" exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, apparently a little relieved. "I assure you, gentlemen, you greatly over-estimate the importance I attach to anything that such a troublesome person as Mr. Tomkins can do, if I am right in supposing that it is he who Well, then, what is the matter?" he inquired quickly, observing Mr. Parkinson shake his head, and inter- change a grave look with Mr. Eunnington ; " you cannot think, Mr. Park- inson, how you will oblige me by being explicit." " This paper," said Mr. Eunnington, holding up that which Mr. Aubrey at once identified as the one on which he had cast his eye upon its being handed to him by Waters, " is a Declaration in Ejectment, with which 206 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. Mr. Tomkins lias nothing -whatever to do. It is served virtually on ycm, and YOTJ are the real defendant." " So I apprehend that I was in the former trumpery action 1" replied Mr. Aubrey, faintly smiling. " Do you recollect, sir," said Mr. Parkinson, with a trepidation which he could not conceal, " several years ago, some serious conversation which you and I had together on the state of your title — ^when I was preparing your marriage-settlements ?" Mr. Aubrey started, and his face was suddenly blanched. " The matters which we then discussed have suddenly acquired fearful importance. This paper occasions us, on your account, the profoundest anxiety." Mr. Aubrey continued silent, gazing on Mr. Parkinson with intensity. " Supposing, from a hasty glance at it, and from the message accompanying it, that it was merely another action of Tomkins about the slip of waste land attached to Joker's cottage, I sent up to London to my agents, Messrs. Eunnington, requesting them to call on the plaintiff's attorneys, and settle the action. He did so ; and — ^perhaps you will ex- plain the rest," said Mr. Parkinson, with visible trepidation, to Mr. Eun- nington. " Certainly," said that gentleman, with a serious air, but much more calmly and firmly than Mr. Parkinson had spoken ; " I called accordingly, yesterday morning, on Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap — a very well, but not enviably, known firm in the profession ; and in a few minutes my mis- conception of the nature of the business which I had called to arrange was set right. In short " he paused, as if distressed at the intelligence which he was about to communicate. " Oh, pray, pray go on, sir I" said Mr. Aubrey, in a low tone, rather im- peratively. " I am no stranger, sir, to your firmness of character ; but I shall have to tax it, I fear, to its uttermost. To come at once to the point — ^they told me that I might undoubtedly settle the matter, if you would consent to give up immediate possession of the whole YaMon estate, and account for the mesne profits to their client, the right heir — as they contend-— a Mr. Tittle- bat Titmouse." Mr. Aubrey leaned back in his chair, overcome, for an instant, by this astounding intelligence ; and all three of them preserved silence for some moments. Mr. Eunnington was a man of a very feeling heart. In the course of his great practice he had had to encounter many distressing scenes ; but probably none of them had equalled that in which, at the earnest entreaty of Mr. Parkinson, who distrusted his own self- possession, he now bore a leading part. The two attorneys interchanged frequent looks of deep sympathy for their unfortupate client, who seemed as if stunned by the intelligence which they had brought him. " I felt it my duty to lose not an instant in coming down to Yatton," resumed Mr. Eunnington, observing Mr. Aubrey's eye again directed in- quiringly towards him ; " for Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap are danger- ous people to deal with, and must be encountered promptly, but with the greatest possible caution. The moment that I had left them, I hastened to the Temple, to retain for you Mr. Subtle, the leader of the Northern TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 207 Circuit ; but they had been beforehand with me, and retained him nearly tliree months before, together with another eminent king's counsel on the circuit. Under these circumstances, I lost no time in giving a special retainer to the Attorney-General, in which I trust I have done right, and in retaining as junior a gentleman whom I consider to be incomparably the ablest and most experienced lawyer on the circuit." " Did they say anything concerning the nature of their client's title ?" inquired Mr. Aubrey, after some expressions of amazement and dismay. " Very little — I might say nothing. If they "had been neaier so precise, of course I should have distrusted every word they said. They certainly mentioned that they had had the first conveyancing opinions in the king- dom, which concurred in favor of their client; tliat they had been for months prepared at all points, and accident only had delayed their com- mencing proceedings till now." "Did you make any inquiries as to who the claimant was ?" inquired Mr. Aubrey. " Yes ; but all I could learn was, that they had discovered him by mere accident, and that he was at present in obscure and distressed circum- stances. I tried to discover by what means they proposed to commence and carry on so expensive a contest; but they smiled significantly, and were silent." Another long pause ensued, during which Mr. Aubrey was evidently silently struggling with very agitating emotions. " What is the meaning of their affecting to seek the recovery of only one insignificant portion of the property ?" he inquired. » " It is their own choice — it may be from considerations of mere conve- nience. The title, however, by which they may succeed in obtaining what they at present go for, will avail to recover every acre of the estate, and the present action wiU consequently decide everything 1" "And suppose the worst — that they are successful," said Mr. Aubrey, after they had conversed a good deal, and very anxiously, on the subject of a formerly suspected defect in Mr. Aubrey's title, which had been pointed out to him in general terms by Mr. Parkinson, on the occasion already adverted to — " what is to be said about the rental which I have been receiving aU this time — ^ten thousand a year?" inquired Mr. Aubrey, looking as if he dreaded to hear his question answered. " Oh 1 that's quite an after consideration — ^let us first fight the battle," said Mr. Eunnington. " I beg, sir, that you wUl withhold nothing from me," said Mr. Aubrey. "To what extent shall I be liable?" Mr. Eunnington paused. " I am afraid that all the mesne profits, as they are caUed, which you have received" — commenced Mr. Parkinson "No, no," interrupted Mr. Eunnington; "I have been turning that matter over in my mind, and I think that the statute of limitations will bar all but the last six years " " Why, that will be sixty thousand pounds I" interrupted Mr. Aubrey, with a look of sudden despair. "Gracious Heaven I that is perfectly frightful !— frightful 1 If I lose Yatton, I shall not have a place to put my 208 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. head in — not one farthing to support myself with ! And yet to have to make up sixty thomand pounds /" The perspiration bedewed his forehead, and his eye was laden with alarm and agony. He slowly rose from his chair and bolted the door, that they might not, at such an agitating mo- ment, be surprised or disturbed by any of the servants or the family. " I suppose," said he, in a faint and tremulous tone, " that if this claim succeed, my mother also will share my fate " They shook their heads in silence. " Permit me to suggest," said Mr. Eunnington, in a tone of the most respectful sympathy, " that sufficient for the day is the evil thereof." " But the NIGHT follows," said Mr. Aubrey, with a visible tremor ; and his voice made the hearts of his companions thrill within them. " I have a fearful misgiving as to the issue of these proceedings 1 I ought not to have neglected the matter pointed out to me by Mr. Parkinson on my mar- riage! I feel as if I had been culpably lying by ever since. But I really did not attach to it the importance it deserved : I never, indeed, difetiuctly appreciated the nature of what was then mentioned to me." " A thousand pities that a fine was not levied, is it not ?" said Mr. Eun- nington, turning with a sigh to Mr. Parkinson. " Ay, indeed it is," replied that gentleman — and they spoke together for some time, and very earnestly, concerning the nature and eflScaoy of such a measure, which they explained to Mr. Aubrey. " It comes to this," said he, " that in all probability I and my family are at this moment " he shuddered — " trespassers at Yatton !" "That, Mr. Aubrey," said Mr. Parkinson, earnestly, "remains to be proved. We really are getting on far too fast. A person who heard us might suppose that the jury had already returned a verdict against us — that judgment had been signed — and that the sheriff was coming in the morning to execute the writ of possession in favor of our opponent." This was well meant by the speaker ; but surely it was Kke talking of the machinery of the ghastly guillotine to the wretch in shivering expectation of suffering by it on the morrow. An involuntary shudder ran through Mr. Aubrey. " Sixty thousand pounds I" he exclaimed, rising and walk- ing to and fro. " Why, I am ruined beyond all redemption I How can I ever satisfy it ?" Again he paced the room several times in silent agony. Presently he resumed his seat. " I have for these several days past had a strange sense of impending calamity," said he more calmly ; " I have been equally unable to account for or get rid of it. It may be an intima- tion from Heaven ; I bow to its will I" " We must remember," said Mr. Eunnington, "that 'possession's nine- tentlis of the law;' which means, that your mere possession will entitle you to retain it against all the world, till a stronger title than yours to the right of possession be made out. You stand on a mountain ; and it is for your adversary to displace you, not by showing merely that you have no real title, but that he has. If he could prove all your title-deeds to be merely waste paper— that in fact you have no more title to Yatton than I have — ^he would not, if he were to stop there, have advanced his own case an inch; he must first establish in himself a clear and independent title; TEN THOUSAND A YEAH. 209 so that you are entirely on the defensive ; and rely upon it, that though never so many screws may be loose, so acute and profound a lawyer as the Attorney-General will impose every difficulty on our opponents " "Nay, but God forbid that any unconscientious advantage should be taken on my behalf 1" said Mr. Aubrey. Mr. Kunnington and Mr. Park- inson both opened their eyes pretty wide at this sally ; the latter could not at first understand why everything should not be fair in war; the former saw and appreciated the nobility of soul which had dictated the exclamation. " I suppose the affair will soon become public," said Mr. Aubrey, with an air of profound depression, after much further conversation. " Your position in the county, your eminence in public life, the singu- larity of the case, and the magnitude of the stake — all are circumstances undoubtedly calculated soon to urge the affair before the notice of the public," said Mr. Kunnington. " What disastrous intelligence to break to my family !" exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, tremulously. " With what fearful suddenness it has burst upon us ! But something, I suppose," he presently added, with forced calmness, " must be done immediately ?" " Undoubtedly," replied Mr. Kunnington. " Mr. Parkinson and I will immediately proceed to examine your title-deeds, the greater portion of which are, I understand, here in the Hall, and the rest at Mr. Parkinson's, and prepare, without delay, a case for the opinion of the Attorney-General, and also of the most eminent conveyancers of the kingdom. Who, by the way," said Mr. Kunnington, addressing Mr. Parkinson — " who was the conveyancer that had the abstracts before him, on preparing Mr. Aubrey's marriage-settlement ?" "Oh, you are alluding to the 'Opinion' I mentioned to you this even- ing ?" inquired Mr. Parkinson. " I have it at my house, and will show it you in the morning. The doubt be expressed on one or two points gave me, I recollect, no little uneasiness — as you may remember, Mr. Aubrey." " I certainly do," he replied, with a profound sigh ; " but though what you said reminded me of something or another that I had heard when a mere boy, I thought no more of it. I think you also told me that the gentleman who wrote the opinion was a nervous, fidgety man, always raising difficul- ties in his clients' titles ; and one way or another the thing never gave me any concern — scarcely ever even occurred to my thoughts, till to-day. What infatuation has been mine ! But — you will take a little refreshment, gentlemen, after your journey ?" said Mr. Aubrey suddenly, glad of the opportunity it would afford him of reviving his own exhausted spirits before returning to the drawing-room. In about half an hour's time the bearers of the direful intelligence just communicated to the reader, after a promise by Mr. Aubrey to drive over to Grilston early in the morning, and bring with him such of his title-deeds as were then at the Hall, took their departure ; leaving him outwardly calmer, but with a fearful oppression at his heart. He made a powerful effprt to control his feelings, so as to con- ceal, for a while at least, the dreadful occurrence of the evening. His 14 210 TEN THOVSAND A YEAR. countenance and constrained manner, however, on re-entering the draw- ing-room, which his mother, attended by Kate, had quitted for her bed- room — somewhat alarmed Mrs. Aubrey ; but he easily quieted her — ^poor soul — by saying that he certainly had been annoyed — "excessively an- noyed " — at a communication just made to him, " and which might, in fact, prevent his sitting again for Yatton." " Oh, that's the cause of your long stay ? There, Doctor, am I not right ?" said Mrs. Aubrey, appealing to Dr. Tatham. " Did I not tell you that this was something connected with politics ? Oh, dearest Charles — I do hate politics I Give me a quiet home 1" A pang shot through Mr. Aubrey's heart ; but he felt that he had for the present succeeded in his object. Mr. Aubrey's distracted mind was indeed, as it were, buffeted about that night on a dark sea of trouble ; while the beloved being beside him lay sleeping peacefully, all unconscious of the rising storm. Many times during that dismal night would he have risen from his bed to seek a momentary relief by walking to and fro, but that he feared disturbing her, and disclos- ing the extent and depth of his distress. It wa« nearly five o'clock in the morning before he at length sank into sleep ; and of one thing I can assure the reader, that however that excellent man might have shrunk — and shrink he did — from the sufferings which seemed in store, not for himself only, but for those who were far dearer to tiim than life itself, he did not give way to one repining or rebellious thought. On the contrary, his real frame of mind, on that trying occasion, may be discovered in one short prayer, which his agonized soul was more than once on the point of ex- pressing aloud in words: — "Oh, my God! in my prosperity I have always endeavored to acknowledge thee ; forsake not me and mine in our adver- sity !" At an early hour in the morning, Mr. Aubrey's carriage drew up at Mr. Parkinson's door ; and he brought with him, as he had promised, a great number of title-deeds and family documents. On these, as well as on many others which were in Mr. Parkinson's custody, that gentleman and Mr. Eunnington were anxiously engaged during almost every minute of that day and the ensuing one, at the close of which they had between them drawn up the rough outline of a case, with which Mr. Bunnington set off for town by the mail, undertaking to lay it immediately before the Attor- ney-General, and also before one or two of the most eminent conveyancers of the day, effectually commended to their best and earliest attention. He pledged himself to transmit their opinions on the day on which he received them to Mr. Parkinson, and both of those gentlemen immediately set about active preparations for defending the ejectment. The " eminent convey- ancer" fixed upon by Messrs. Bunnington and Parkinson was Mr. Tre- sayle, whose clerk, however, on looking into the papers, presently carried them back to Messrs. Bunnington, with the startling information that Mr. Tresayle had, a few months before, advised on the other side ! The next person whom Mr. Bunnington thought of was — singularly enough — Mr. Mortmain, who, on account of his eminence, was occasionally employed, in heavy matters, by the firm. Sis clerk, also, on the ensuing morning, returned the papers, assigning a similar reason to that which had been TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 211 given by Mr. Tresayle's clerk I All this formed a direful corroboration, truly, of Messrs. Quirk and Gammon's assurance to Mr. Kunnington, that they had " had the first conveyancing opinions in the kingdom," and evi- denced the formidable scale on which their operations were being con- ducted. There were, however, other " eminent conveyancers" besides the two above mentioned ; and in the hands of Mr. Mansfield, who, with a less extended reputation, but an equal practice, was a far abler man, and a much higher style of conveyancer, than Mr. Mortmain, Mr. Runnington left his client's interests with the utmost confidence. Not satisfied with this, lie laid the case also before Mr. Crystal, the junior whom he had already retained in the cause— a man wliose lucid understanding was not ill indicated by his name. Though his manner in court was not particu- larly forcible or attractive, he was an invaluable acquisition in an import- ant cause. To law he had for some twenty years applied himself with unwearying energy, and he consequently became a ready, accurate, and thorough lawyer, equal to all the practical exigencies of his profession. He brought his knowledge ttf bear on every point presented to him, with beautifiil precision. He was equally quick and cautious — artful to a degree ; but I shall have other opportunities of describing him, since on him, as on every working junior, will devolve the real conduct of the de- fendant's case in the memorable action of Doe on the demise of Tiimouse v. Moe. As Mr. Aubrey was driving home from the visit to Mr. Parkinson, which I have just above mentioned, he stopped his carriage and alighted on entering the village, because he saw Dr. Tatham coming out of Williams's cottage, where he had been paying a visit to poor dying Phoebe. The little Doctor was plunthering on, ankle deep in snow, towards the vicarage, when Mr. Aubrey, who had sent home his carriage, with word that he should presently follow, came up with him, and greeting him with untisual fervor, said that he would accompany him to the vicarage. " You are in great trouUe, my dear friend," said the Doctor, seriously. "I saw it plainly last night, but of course I said nothing. Come in with me. Let us talk freely with one another ; for ' as iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the countenance of a man his friend.' Is it not so ?" " It is indeed, my dear Doctor," replied Mr. Aubrey, suddenly softened by the aflfectionate simplicity of the Doctor's manner. How much the good Doctor wag shocked by the communication which Mr. Aubrey pre- sently made to him, the reader may easily imagine. He even shed tears, on beholding the forced calmness with which Mr. Aubrey depicted the gloomy prospect that was before him. The venerable pastor led the sub- dued mind of his companion to those sources of consolation and support which a true Christian cannot approach in vain. Upon his bruised and bleeding feelings was poured the balm of true religious consolation ; and Mr. Aubrey quitted his reverend companion with a far firmer tone of mind than that with which he had entered the vicarage. But as soon as he had passed through the park gates, the sudden reflection that he was probably no longer the proprietor of the dear old familiar objects which 212 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. met his eye at every step, almost overpowered him, and he walked several times up and down the avenue before he had recovered a due degree of self-possession. On entering the Hall, he was informed that one of the tenants, Peter Johnson, had been sitting in the servants' hall for nearly two hours, wait- ing to see him. Mr. Aubrey repaired at once to the library, and desired the man to be shown in. This Johnson had been for some twenty-five years the tenant of a considerable farm on the estate ; had scarcely ever been behindhand with his rent, and had always been considered one of the most exemplary persons in the whole neighborhood. He had now, poor fellow, got into trouble indeed. He had, a year or two before, been per- suaded to become security for his brother-in-law, a tax collector, and had, alas ! the day before, been called upon to pay the three hundred pounds in which he stood bound — his worthless brother-in-law having absconded with nearly £1000 of the public money. Poor Johnson, who had a large family to support, was in deep tribulation, bowed down with grief and shame, and, after a sleepless night, had at length ventured down to Yatton, with a desperate boldness, to ask its benevolent owner to advance him £200 towards the money, to save himself from being cast into prison. Mr. Aubrey heard this sad story to the end without a single interruption, though to a more practised observer than the troubled old farmer, the working of Mr. Aubrey's countenance from time to time must have told his inward agitation. " I lend this poor soul £200 1" thought he, " who am penniless myself! Shall I pot be really acting as his dishonest relative has been acting, and making free with money which belongs to another ?" "I assure you, my worthy friend," said he at length, with a little agita- tion of manner, " that I have just now a very serious call upon me, or you know how gladly I would have complied with your request." " Oh, sir, have mercy on me ! Pve an ailing wife and seven children to support," said poor Johnson, wringing his hands. " Can't I do anything with the Governments " "No, sir. I'm told they're so mighty angry with my rascally brother-in- law, they'll listen to nobody. It's a hard matter for me to keep things straight at home without this, sir, I've so many mouths to fill ; and Lf they take me off to prison, Lord ! Lord, what's to become of us all ?'' Mr. Aubrey's lip quivered. Johnson fell on his knees, and the tears ran down his cheeks. " I've never asked a living man for money before, sir; and if you'll only lend it me, God Almighty will bless you and yours ; you'll save us all from ruin ; I'll work day and night to pay it back again I" "Kise — rise, Johnson," said Mr. Aubrey, with emotion. "You shall have the money, my friend, if you will call to-morrow," he adiJed, with a deep sigh, after a moment's hesitation. He was as good as his word.* * Whether Mr. Aubrey was justified In doing this, under his circumstances, is a ques- tion which the author has seen, and heard, several times keenly discussed. Much may ^be said on both sides of the question, by ingenious casuists. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 213 Had Mr. Aubrey been naturally of a cheerful and yivadous turn, the contrast now afforded by his gloomy manner must have alarmed his family. As it was, however, the contrast was not so strong and marked as to be attended with that effect, especially as he exerted himself to the utmost to conceal his distress. That something had gone wrong, he freely acknowl- edged ; and as he spoke of it always in connection with political topics, he succeeded in parrying their questions, and checking suspicion. But, when- ever they were all collected together, could he not justly compare them to a happy group, unconscious that they stood on a mine which was on the eve of being fired ? About a week afterwards, namely, on the 12th of January, arrived little Charles's birthday, when he became five years old ; and Kate had for some days been sending far and wide to get up a juvenile ball in honor of the occasion. After divers urgent despatches, and considerable riding and driving about, she succeeded in persuading the parents of some eight or ten children — two little daughters, for instance, of the Earl of Oldacre (beautiful creatures they were, to be sure) — little Master and the two Miss Bertons, the children of one of the county members — Sir Harry Oldfleld, an orphan of about five years of age, the infant owner of a magnificent estate — and two or three little girls beside — to send them all — cold though the weather was — to Yatton, for a day and a night, with their governesses and attendants. 'Twas a charming little affair. It went off brilliantly, as the phrase is, and repaid all Kate's exertions. She, her mother, and brother and sister, all dined at the same table, at a very early hour, with the merry little guests, who, with a laughable crowd of attendants behind them, to be sure, behaved remarkably well on the occasion. Sir Harry — a little thing about Charles's age — the black ribbon around his waist, and also the half-mourn- ing dress worn by his maid, who stood behind him, showed how recent was the event which had made him an orphan — ^proposed Httle Aubrey's health, in (I must own) a somewhat stiff speech, demurely dictated to him by Kate, who sat between him and her beautiful little nephew. She then performed the same office for Charles, who stood on a chair while deliv- ering his eloquent, but somewhat audibly-prompted, acknowledgment of the toast. [Oh! that anguished brow of thine, Aubrey ; thank God it is unobserved. But it tells me that the iron is entering thy soul !] And the moment that he had concluded, Kate folding her arms around him and kissing him, down they all jumped, and, a merry throng ! scamp- ered off to the drawing-room, followed by Kate, where blind-man's buff, husbands and wives, and divers other little games, kept them in constant enjoyment. After tea, they were to have dancing — Kate mistress of the revels — and it was quite laughable to see how perpetually she was foiled in her efforts to form the little sets. The girls were orderly enough— but their wild little partners were quite uncontrollable. The instant they were placed, and Kate had gone to the instrument, and struck off a bar or two — ah I— what a scrambling little crowd was to be seen wildly jumping and laughing, and chattering and singing ! Over and over again she formed 214 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. them into sets, with the like results. But at length a young lady, one of the governesses, took Miss Aubrey's place at the piano, leaving the latter to superintend the performance in person. She at length succeeded in getting up something like a country-dance, led off by Charles and little Lady Anne Cherville, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Oldacre, a, beautiful child of about five years old, and who, judging from appearances, bade fair, in due time, to become another Lady Caroline Caversham. You would have laughed outright to watch the coquettish airs which this little creature gave herself with Charles, whom yet she evidently could not bear to see dancing with another. " Now I shall dance with somebody else," he exclaimed, suddenly quit- ting Lady Anne, and snatehing hold of a sweet little thing, Miss Berton, standing modestly beside him. The discarded beauty walked with a stately air, and a swelling heart, towards Mrs. Aubrey, who sat beside her husband on the sofa; and on reaching her, stood for a few moments silently watehing her fickle partner busily and gayly engaged with her successor — then she burst into tears. " Charles !" called out Mrs. Aubrey, who had watched the whole affair, and could hardly keep her countenance — " come hither directly, Charles." "Yes, mamma!" he exclaimed, quite unaware of the serious aspect which things were assuming, and without quitting the dance, where he was — as his jealous-like mistress too plainly saw, for, despite her grief, her eye seemed to follow aJl his motions — skipping about with infinite glee with a third partner — a laughing sister of her for whom he had quitted Lady Anne. " Do you hear your mamma, Charles I" said Mr. Aubrey, somewhat per- emptorily ; and in an instant his little son, all flushed and breathless, was at his side. "Well, dear papa!" said he, keeping his eye fixed on the merry throng he had just quitted, and where his deserted partner was skipping about alone. " What have you been doing to Lady Anne, Charles ?" said his father. " Nothing, dejir papa," he replied, still wistfully eyeing the dancers. " You know you left me, and went to dance with "Miss Berton ; you did, Charles !" said the offended beauty, sobbing. " That is not behaving like a little gentleman, Charles," said his father. The tears came into the child's eyes. " I am very sorry, dear papa, I will dance with her " " No, not now," said Lady Anne, haughtily. "Oh, pooh! pooh! — kiss and be friends," said Mrs. Aubrey, laughing, " and go and dance as prettily as you were dancing before." Little Aubrey put his arms round Lady Anne, kissed her, and away they both started to the dance again. While the latter part of this scene was going on, Mr. Aubrey's eye caught the figure of a servant, who simply made his appear- ance at the door and then retired, for such had been Mi. Aubrey's orders, in the event of any messenger arriving from Grilston. Hastily whispering that he should speedily return, he left the room. In the hall stood a clerk from Mr. Parkinson; on seeing Mr. Aubrey, he took out a packet and TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. 215 retired — Mr. Aubrey, with evident trepidation, repairing to his library. With a nervous hand he broke the seal, and found the following letter from Mr. Parkinson, with three other enclosures : — " Gbilston, Jam.. 12, 18— " My Dr4k Sir : — I have only just received from Mr. Eunnington, and at once forward to you, copies of the three opinions given by the Attorney- General, Mr. Mansfield, and Mr. Crystal, on the case submitted to them upon your behalf. I lament to find that they are all of a discouraging char- acter. They were given by their respective writers without any of them having had any opportunity of conferring together — all the three cases having been laid before them at the. same time : yet you wiU observe that each of them has hit upon precisely the same point, viz., that the descend- ants of Geofirey Dreddlington had no right to succeed to the inheritance till there was a failure of the heirs of Stephen Dreddlington. If, therefore, our discreditable opponents should have unhappily contrived to ferret out some person satisfying that designation — I cannot conjecture how thay can ever have got upon the scent — I really fear — and it is no use disguising matters — ^that we must prepare for a most serious struggle. I have been quietly pushing my inquiries in aU directions, with a view to obtaining a clue to the case intended to be set up against us, and which you will find very shrewdly guessed at by the Attorney-General. Nor am I the only party, I find, in the field, who has been making pointed inquiries in your neighborhood ; but of this more when we meet to-morrow. " I remain, " Yours, most respectfully, " J. Pakkinson. "Charles Adbbey, Esq., M.P., &c. Ac." Having read this letter, Mr. Aubrey sunk back in his chair, and re- mained motionless for more than a quarter of an hour. At length he roused himself, and read over the opinions, the effect of which — as far as he could comprehend their technicalities — he found had been but too correctly given by Mr. Parkinson. Some suggestions and inquiries put by the acute and experienced Mr. Crystal, suddenly revived recollections of one or two incidents even of his boyish days, long forgotten, but which, as he reflected upon them, began to reappear to his mind's eye with sick- ening distinctness. Wave after wave of apprehension and agony passed over him, chilling and benumbing his heart within him ; so that, when his little son came some time afterwards running up to him, with a message from his mamma, that she hoped he could come back to see them all play at snap-dragon before they went to bed, he replied mechanically, hardly seeming sensible even of the presence of the laugMng and breathless boy, who qmckly scampered back again. At length, with a groan that came from the depths of his heart, Mr. Aubrey rose and walked to and fro, sen- sible of the necessity of exertion, and preparing himself, in some degree, for encountering his mother, his wife and his sister. Taking up his candle, he hastened to his dressing-room, where he hoped, by the aid of refreshing ablutions, to succeed in effacing at least the stronger of those traces of 216 TEN THOVSAND A YEAR. suffering which his glass displayed to him, as it reflected the image of his agitated countenance. A sudden recollection of the critical and delicate situation of his idolized wife glanced through his heart like a keen arrow. He sunk upon the sofa, and, clasping his hands, looked indeed forlorn. Presently the door was pushed hastily but gently open ; and, first looking in to see that it was really he of whom she was in search, in rushed Mrs. Aubrey, pale and agitated, having been alarmed by his long-continued absence from the drawing-room, and the look of the servant, from whom she had learned that his master had been for some time gone up stairs. " Charles 1 my love ! my sweet love !" she exclaimed, rushing in, sitting down beside him, and casting her arms round his neck. Overcome by the suddenness of her appearance and movements, for a moment he spoke not. " For mercy's sake — as you love me !— tell me, dearest Charles, what has happened 1" she gasped, kissing him fervently. " Nothing — love — ^nothing," he replied ; but his look belied his speech. " Oh 1 am not 1 your wife, dearest ? Charles, I shall really go distracted if you do not tell me what has happened ! I know that something — some- thing dreadful" — He put his arm round her waist, and drew her tenderly towards him. He felt her heart beating violently. He kissed her cold forehead, but spoke not. " Come, dearest 1 — ^my own Charles ! — let me share your sorrows," said she, in a thrilling voice. " Cannot you trust your Agnes ? Has not Heaven sent me to share your anxieties and griefe ?" " I love you, Agnes 1 ay, perhaps more than ever man loved woman 1" he faltered, as he felt her arms folding him in closer and closer embrace ; and she gazed at him with wild agitation, expecting presently to hear of some fearful catastrophe. " I cannot bear tliis much longer, dearest — ^I feel I cannot," said she, rather faintly. " What has happened ? What, that you dare not tell me ! I can bear anything while I have you and my children ! You have been unhappy — you have been wretched, Charles, for many days past. I have felt that you were ! I will not part with you till I know all 1" " You soon mjust know all, my sweet love ; and I take Heaven to witness, that it is principally on your account, and that of my children, that I In fact, I did not wish any of you to have known it till " " You — are never going — ^to fight a dudf" she gasped, turning white as death. " Oh ! no, no, Agnes ! I solemnly assure you I If I could have brought myself to engage in such an unhallowed affair, would this scene ever first have occurred ? No, no, my own love 1 Must I then tell you of the mis- fortune that has overtaken us ?" His words somewhat restored her, but she continued to gaze at him in mute and breathless apprehension. " Let me then conceal nothing, Agnes — they are bringing an action against me, which, if successful, may cause us all to quit Yatton — and it may be, for- ever." "Oh, Charles!" she murmured, her eyes riveted upon his, while she unconsciously clung still closer to him and trembled. Her head dropped upon his shoulder. TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. 217 "Why is this?" she whispered, after a pause. " Let us, dearest, talk of it another time. I have now told you what you asked me." He poured her out a glass of water. Having drank a little, she appeared revived. "Is all lost? And — whyt Do, my own Charles — let me know really the worst 1" " We are young, my Agnes, and have the world before us ! Health and integrity are better than riches I You and our little loves — the children which Ood has given us — are my riches," said he, gazing at her with un- speakable tenderness. " Even should it be the will of Heaven that this affair should go against us — so long as they cannot separate us from each other, they cannot reaMy hurt us !" She suddenly kissed him with frantic energy, and an hysteric smile gleamed over her pallid excited features. " Calm yourself, Agnes ! — calm yourself, for my sake 1 — as you love me !" His voice quivered. " Oh, how very weak and foolish I have been to yield to " "No, no, nol" she gasped, evidently laboring with hysteric oppression. " Hush !" said she, suddenly starting, and wildly leaning forward towards the door which opened into the gallery leading to the various bedrooms. He listened — the mothbb's ear had been quick and true. He presently heard the sound of many children's voices approaching : they were the little party, accompanied by Kate, and their attendants, on their way to bed ; and little Charles's voice was loudest and his laugh the merriest of them all. A dreadfal smile gleamed on Mrs. Aubrey's face ; her hand grasped her husband's with convulsive pressure, and she suddenly sunk, rigid and senseless, upon the sofa. He seemed for a moment stunned at the sight of her motionless figure. Soon, however, recovering his presence of mind, he rang the bell, and one or two female attendants quickly ap- peared, by whose joint assistance Mrs. Aubrey was carried to her bed in the adjoining room, where, by the use of the ordinary remedies, she was, after a brief interval, restored to consciousness. Her first languid look was towards Mr. Aubrey, whose hand she slowly raised to her Ups. She tried to throw a smile over her wan features — ^but 'twas in vain ; and, after a few heavy and half-choking sobs, her overcharged feelings found relief in a flood of tears. Full of the liveliest apprehensions as to the effect of this violent emotion upon her, in her critical condition, he remained with her for some time, pouring into her ear every soothing and tender expres- sion he could think of. He at length succeeded in bringing her into a somewhat more tranquil state than he could have expected. He strictly enjoined the attendants, who had not quitted their lady's chamber, and whose alarmed and inquisitive looks he had noticed for some time with anxiety, to preserve silence concerning what they had so unexpectedly wit- nessed, adding, that something unfortunate had happened, of which they would hear but too soon. "Are you going to tell Kate?" whispered Mrs. Aubrey, sorrowfully. " Surely, love, you have suffered enough through nvy weakness. Wait till to-morrow. Let her — ^poor girl !— have a few more happy hours." "No, Agnes ; it was my own weakness which caused me to be surprised 218 TEN TBOVSAND A YEAR. into this premature disclosure to you. And now I must meet her again to- night, and I cannot control either my features or my feelings. Yes, poor Kate, she must know all to-night ! I shall not be long absent, Agnes." And directing her maid to remain with her till he returned, he withdrew, and with slow step and heavy heart descended to the library ; preparing himself for another heart-breaking scene — plunging another innocent and joyous creature into misery, which he believed to be inevitable. Having looked into the drawing-room as he passed it, and seen no one there — ^his mother having, as usual, retired at an early hour — he rung his library beU and desired Miss Aubrey's maid to request her mistress to come down to him there, as soon as she should be at leisure. He was glad that the only light in the room was that given out by the fire, which was not very bright and so would in some degree shield his features from, at all events, imme- diate scrutiny. His heart ached as, shortly afterwards, he heard Kate's light step crossing the hall. When she entered, her eyes sparkled with vivacity, and a smUe was on her beauteous cheek. Her dress was slightly disordered, and her hair half uncurled — ^the results of her sport with the little ones whom she had been seeing to bed. " What merry little things, to be sure !" she commenced, laughingly — "I could not get them to lie still a moment — ^popping their little heads in and out of the clothes ! A fine time I shall have of it, by-and-by, with Sir Harry, for he is to be mj/ tiny little bed-fellow, and I daresay I shall not sleep a wink all night I Why, Charles, how very — very grave you look 1" she added, quickly, observing his eye fixed moodily upon her. " 'Tis you who are so very gay," he replied, endeavoring to smile. " I want to speak to you, dear Kate," he commenced,- afiectionately, at the same time rising and closing the door — " on a serious matter. I have re- ceived some lettera to-night " Kate colored suddenly and violently, and hesr heart beat ; but, ah, sweet soul ! how she was mistaken 1 How very, very far oflT the mark her troubled brother was aiming at ! " And relying on your strength of mind, I have resolved to put you at once in possession of what I myself know. Can you bear bad news well, Kate?" She turned pale, and drawing her chair nearer to her brother, said, " Do not keep me in suspense, Charles — I can bear anything but suspense — that is dreadful ! What has happened 7 Oh, dear," she added, with sudden alarm, " where are mamma and Agnes ?" She started to her feet. " I assure you they are both well, Kate. My mother is now doubtless asleep, and as well as she ever was ; Agnes is in her bedroom — certainly much distressed at the news which I am going " " Oh why, Charles, did you tell anything distressing to her f" exclaimed Miss Aubrey, with an alarmed air. " We came together by surprise, Kate. Perhaps, too, it would have been worse to have kept her in suspense ; but she is recovering ! I shall soon return to her. And now, my dear Kate, I know your strong sense and spirit ! A great calamity hangs over us. Let you and me," he grasped her hands affectionately, " await it steadily, and support those who can- not !" TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. 219 " Let me at once know all, Charles. See if I do not bear it as becomes your sister," said she, with forced calmness. " If it should become necessary for aU of us to retire into obscurity — into humble obscurity, dear Kate — how do you think you could bear it?" " If it will be an honorable obscurity — nay, 'tis quite impossible it can be a dis-honorable obscurily," continued Miss Aubrey, with a momentary flash of energy. " Never, never, Kate 1 The Aubreys may lose everything on earth but the jewel honob, and love for one another." " Let me know all, Charles : I see that something or other shocking has happened," said Miss Aubrey, in a low tone, with a, look of the deepest apprehension. " I will tell you the worst, Kate — a strange claim is set up by one whom I never heard of, to the whole of the property we now enjoy." Miss Aubrey started, and the slight color that had remained, faded entirely from her cheek. Both were silent for some moments. " But is it a true claim, Charles ?" she inquired faintly. " That remains to be proved. I will, however, disguise nothing from you^-I have woefal apprehensions " "Do you mean to say that Yatton is not ours?" inquired Miss Aubrey, catching her breath. " So, alas 1 my dearest Kate, it is said I" Miss Aubrey looked bewildered, and pressed her hand to her forehead. " How shocking ! — shocking 1 — shocking !" she gasped. " What is to become of mamma?" " God Almighty will not desert her in her old age. He wiU desert none of us, if we only trust in Him," said her brother. Miss Aubrey remained gating at him intently, and continued perfectly motionless. " Must we then all leave Yatton ?" said she, faintly, after a while. " If this claim succeeds — ^but we shall leave it together, Kate." She threw her arms round his neck, and wept bitterly. " Hush, hush, Kate !" said he, perceiving the increasing violence of her emotions; "restrain your feelings for the sake of my mother — and Agnes." His words had the desired effect : the poor girl made a desperate effort. Unclasping her arms from her brother's neck, she sat down in her chair, breathing hard, and pressing her hand upon her heart. After a few min- utes' pause, she said faintly, " I am better now. Do tell me more, Charles. Let me have something to think about— only don't say anything about — about— mamma and Agnes !" In spite of herself a visible shudder ran through her frame. "It seems, Kate," said he, with all the calmness he could assume— "at least they are trying to prove— that our branch of the family has succeeded to the property prematurely— that there is living an heir of the elder branch— that his case has been taken up by powerful friends ; and— let me tell you the worst at once— even the lawyers consulted by Mr. Parkinson on my behalf take a most alarming view of the possibilities of the case that may be brought against us " 220 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " But is mamma provided for?" whispered Miss Aubrey, almost inarticu- lately. " When I look at her again, I shall drop at her feet, insensible !" " No, no, Kate, you won't ! Heaven will give you strength," said her brother in a tremulous voice. " Eemember, my only sister — my dearest Kate ! you must support me in my trouble, as I will support you — we will try to support each other " " We will — we will !" interrupted Miss Aubrey, instantly checking, how- ever, her rising excitement. " You bear it bravely, my noble girl," said Mr. Aubrey, fondly, after a brief iaSprval of silence. She turned from him her head, and moved her hand in deprecation of expressions which might utterly unnerve her. Then she convulsively clasped her hands over her forehead, and, after a minute or two, turned towards him with tears in her eyes, but with tranquillized features. The struggle had been dreadful, tJiough brief, — ^her noble spirit had recovered itself. 'Twas like some fair bark in mortal conflict with the black and boiling waters and howling hurricane, — ^long quivering on the brinlt of destruc- tion, but at last outliving the storm, righting itseK, and suddenly gliding into safe and tranquil waters ! The distressed brother and sister sat conversing for a long time, fre- quently in tears, but with infinitely greater calmness and firmness than could have been expected. They agreed that Dr. Tatham should very early in the morning be sent for, and implored to take upon himself the bitter duty of breaking the matter as gradually and safely as possible to Mrs. Aubrey, its effects upon whom her children anticipated with the most vivid apprehension. They both considered that an event of such publicity and importance could not possibly remain long unknown to her, and that it was, on the whole, better that the dreaded communication should be got over as soon as possible. They then retired — Kate (o a sleepless pillow, and her brother to spend a greater portion of the night in attempts to soothe and console his suffering wife. Each of them had first knelt in humble reverence, and poured the breathings of a stricken and bleeding heart before Him who hath declared that He is ever present to hear and to answer prayer. Ah 1 who can tell what a day or an hour may bring forth ? CHAPTER VI, A WINTEB evening's GOSSIP AT THE AUBREY AKMS AMONG YATTON VILLAGERS, AND ITS GBIEVOUS INTEBEUPTION. " TT won't kindle — ^not n bit on't; it's green and full o' sap. Go out X and get us a log that's dry and old, George, and let's try to have a bit of a blaze in t' ould chimney this bitter night," said Isaac Tonson, the TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 221 gamekeeper at Yatton, to the good-natured landlord of the Aubrey Arms, the little — and only — inn of the village. The suggestion was instantly attended to. " How Peter's a-feathering of his geese to-night, to be sure !" exclaimed the landlord on his return, shaking the snow off his coat, and laying on the fire a great dry old log of wood, which seemed very acceptable to the hungry flames, for they licked it cordially the moment it was placed amongst them, and there was very soon given out a cheerful blaze. It was a snug room. The brick floor was covered with fresh sand, and on a few stools and benches, with a table in the middle, on which stood a large can and ale-glasses, with a plate of tobacco, sat some half-dozen men, enjoying their pipe and glass. In the chimney-corner sat Thomas Dickons, the faithful under-bailiff of Mr. Aubrey, a big, broad-shouldered, middle-aged man, with a hard-featured face and a phlegmatic air. In the opposite comer sat the little grizzle-headed clerk and sexton. Old Halleluiah — (as he was called, but his real name was Jonas Higgs). Beside him sat Pump- kin, the gardener at the Hall, a frequent guest at the Aubrey Arms o' nights — always attended by Hector, the large Newfoundland dog already spoken of, and who was now lying stretched on the floor at Pumpkin's feet, his nose resting on his forefeet, and his eyes with great gravity watch- ing the motions of a skittish kitten under the table. Opposite to him sat Tonsou, the gamekeeper, — a thin, wiry, beetle-browed fellow, with eyes like a ferret ; and there were also one or two farmers, who lived in the village. " Let's ha' another can o' ale afore ye sit down," said Tonson ; " we can do with another half-gallon, I'm thinking !" This order was also quickly attended to, and then the landlord, having seen to the door, fastened the shutters close, and stirred the crackling fire, took his place on a vacant stool, and resumed his pipe. " So she do take a very long grave, Jonas ?" inquired Dickons of the sexton, after some little pause. " Ay, Mr. Dickons, a' think she do, t'ould girl 1 I always thought she would — I used to measure her (as one may say) in my mind, whenever I saw her. 'Tis a regular man's size, I warrant you ; and when parson saw it, a' said bethought 'twere too big; but I ax'd his pardon, and said I hadn't been sexton for thirty years without knowing my business — he, he!" " I suppose, Jonas, you mun ha' seen her walking about i' t' village in your time. Were she such a big-looking woman ?" inquired Pumpkin, as he shook the ashes out of his pipe and replenished it. " Forty years ago I did use to see her ; she were then an old woman, wi' white hair, and leaned on a stick. I never thought she'd a' lasted so long," replied Higgs, emptying his glass. " She've had a pretty long spell on't," quoth Dickons, after slowly empty- ing his mouth of smoke. "A hundred and two,'' replied the sexton ; "so saith her coffin plate— a' see'd it to-day. But she called it a hundred and nine." " What were her name ?" inquired Tonson. " I never knew her by any name but blind Bess," 222 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " Her name be Elisabeth Orabtree on the coffin,'' replied Higgs ; " and she be to be buried to-morrow." " She were a strange old woman,'' said Hazel, one of the farmers, as he took down one of the oatcakes hanging overhead, and breaking off a piece, held it with the tongs before the fire to toast, and then put it into his ale. " Ay, she were," quoth Pumpkin ; " I wonder what she thinks o' such things now — maybe — God forgive me I — she's paying dear for her tricks." "Tut, Pumpkin," said Tonson, "let t' ould creature rest in her grave, where she's goin' to, peaceably !" "Ay, Master Tonson," quoth the clerk, in his reading-desk twang, — " There be no knowledge, jwr imsdom, nor devwe /" "'Tie very odd," observed Pumpkin, "but this dog that's lyin' at my feet could never a' bear going past her cottage late o' nights — ^hang me if he could ; and the night she died — Lord ! you should have heard the howl Hector gave — and a' didn't then know she were gone — if 3 as true as the gospel — it is, aGtua.lly." "No I but wer't reaUy so?" inquired Dickons — several of the others taking their pipes out of their mouths, and looking earnestly at Pumpkin. " I didn't half like it, I can tell you," quoth Pumpkin. " Ha, ha, ha ! — ^ha, ha I" laughed the gamekeeper. "Ay, marry, you may laugh," quoth Pumpkin ; "but FU stake half a gallon o' ale you daren't go by yourself to the cottage where she's lying, — now, mind, i' the dark." " I'U do it," quoth Higgs, eagerly, preparing to lay down his pipe. " No, no 1 thou'rt quite used to dead folk — ^'tis quite in thy line," replied Pumpkin ; and after a little faint drollery, silence ensued for some mo- ments. " Bess dropped off sudden like at the last, didrft she ?" inquired the landlord. " She went out, as they say, like the snuff of a candle," replied Jobbins, one of the farmers ; "^ no one were with her but my missis at the time. The night afore, she had took to the rattles all of a sudden. My Sail (thaf s done for her this long time, by Madam's orders) says old Bess was a good deal shaken by a chap from London, which cam' down about a week afore Christmas." "Ay, ay," quoth one, "Pve heard o' that — what was it? — what passed atwixt them ?" " Why, a' don't well know — ^but he seemed to know sumtnat about t? ould girl's connections, and he had a book, and wrote down something, and he axed her, so Sail do tell me, such a many things about old people, and things that are long gone by." " What were the use on't ?" inquired Dickons ; " for Bess hath been silly this ten years, to my sartin knowledge." " Why, a' couldn't tell. He seemed very 'quisitive, too, about f ould creature's Bible and Prayer-book (she kept them in that ould bag of hers) — and Sail said she had talked a good deal to the chap in her mumbling way, and seemed to know some folk he axed her about. And Sail saith TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 223 she hath been, in a manner, dismal ever since, and often a-crying and talk- ing to herself." " I've heard," said the landlord, " that Squire and parson were wi' her on Christmas-day — and that she talked a deal o' strange things, and that the Squire did seem, as it were, strmk a little, you know — struck, like!" " Why, so my Sail do say ; but it may be all her own head," replied Jobbius. Here a pause took place. " Madam," said the sexton, " hath given orders for an uncommon.decent burying to-morrow." " Well, a' never thought any wrong of ould Bess, for my part," said one — and another — and another; and they smoked their pipes for some short time in silence. " Talking o' strangers from London," said the sexton, presently — " who do know anything o' them two chaps that were at church last Sunday ? Two such peacock chaps I never see'd afore in my time — and grinning all sarvice-time, the heathen !" " Ay, I'll teU you something of 'em," said Hazel — a big, broad-shoul- dered farmer, who plucked his pipe out of his mouth with sudden energy. " They're a brace o' good ones, to be sure, ha, ha I Some week or ten days ago, as I were a-coming across the field leading into the lane behind the church, I see'd these same two chaps, and on coming nearer (they not seeing me for the hedge). Lord bless me ! would you believe it? — if they wasn't a-teasing my daughter Jenny, that were coming along wi' some physic from the doctor for my old woman I One of 'em seemed a-going to put his arm round her neck, and t'other came close to her on t'other side, a-talking to her and pushing her about." Here a young farmer, who had but seldom spoken, took his pipe out of his mouth, and exclaiming, " Lord bless me!" sat listening with his mouth wide open. "Well," continued the former, " a' came into the road behind 'em, without their seeing me ; and" (here he stretched out a thick, rigid, muscular arm, and clenched his teeth) — " a' got hold of each by the collar, and one of 'em I shook about, and gave him a kick i' the breech that sent him spinning a yard or two on the road, he clapping his hand behind him, and crying, to be sure — ' You'll smart for this — a good hundred pound damages !' or summat o' that sort. T'other dropped on his knees, and begged for mercy ; so a' just spit in his face, and flung him under t' hedge, telling him if he stirred till I were out o' sight, I'd crack his skull for him ; and so I would !" Here the wrathful speaker pushed his pipe again between his lips, and began puffing away with great energy ; while he who had appeared to take so great an in- terest in the story, and who was the very man that had flown to the rescue of Miss Aubrey, when she seemed on the point of being similarly treated, told that circumstance exactly as it occurred, amidst the silent but excited wonder of those present — all of whom, at its close, uttered vehement execrations, and intimated the summary and savage punishment which the cowardly rascal would have experienced at the hands of each and every one of them, had they come across him. 224 TEN THOUSAND A YEAH. " I reckon," said the landlord, as soon as the swell had a little subsided, " they must be the two chaps that put up here some time ago, for an hour or so. You should ha' seen 'em get on and off the saddle — that's all ! Why, a' laughed outright ! The chap with the hair under his chin got on upon t' wrong side, and t'other seemed as if he thought his beast would a' bit him I" " Ha, ha, ha !" laughed all. " I thought they'd a both got a fall before they'd gone a dozen yards.'' "They've taken a strange fancy to my churchyard," said the sexton, setting down his glass, and then preparing to fill his pipe again ; " they've been looking about among 'em — among t' ould gravestones, up behind t' ould yew-tree yonder ; and one of 'em writ something, now and then, in a book ; so they're book-writers, in coorse." " That's scholars, I reckon !" quoth Dickons ; " but rot the larning of such chaps as them !" "I wonder if they'll put a picture o' the Hall in their book?" quoth the sexton. "They axed a many questions about the people up there, 'specially about the Squire's father, and some oiild folk, whose names I knew when they spoke of 'em — but I hadn't heard o' them for this forty year. And one of 'em (he were the shortest, and such a chap, to be sure! just like the monkey that were dressed i' man's clothes, last Grilston fair) talked uncommon fine about young Miss " " If I'd a' heard him tak' her name into his dirty mouth, his teeth should a' gone after it !" said Tonson. "Lord! he didn't say any harm — only silly-like — and t'other seemed now and then not to like his going on so. The little one said Miss were a lovely gal, or something like that — and hoped they'd become by-and-by better friends — ah, ha I" " What ! wi' that chap ?" said Pumpkin — and he looked as if he were meditating putting the little sexton up the chimney, for the mere naming of such a thing. "I reckon they're fro' London, and brought toon tricks wi' 'em — for I never heard o' such goings on as theirs down here afore," said Tonson. " One of 'em — ^him that axed me all the questions, and wrote i' f book, seemed a smart enough chap in his way ; but I can't say much for the little one," said Higgs. "Lud, I couldn't hardly look in his face for laughing, he seemed such a fool ! He had a riding-whip wi' a silver head, and stood smacking his legs (you should ha' seen how tight his clothes was on his legs — I warrant you, Tim Timpkins never see'd such a thing, I'U be sworn) all the while, as if a' liked to hear the sound of it." " If I'd a' been beside him," said Hazel, " I'd a' saved him that trouble, only I'd a' laid it into amother part of him !" " Ha, ha, ha ! " they laughed — and presently passed on to other matters. " Hath the Squire been doing much lately in Parliament?" inquired the sexton, of Dickons. " Why, yes — he's trying hard to get that new road made from Harkley Bridge to Hilton." TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 225 " Ah, that would save a good four mile, if a' could manage it," said one of the farmers. " I hear the Papists are trying to get the upper hand again — which the Lud forbid !" said the sexton, after another pause. " The Squire hath lately made a speech in that matter, that hath finished them," said Dickons, in a grave and authoritative tone. " What would they be after ?" inquired the landlord of Dickons, of whom, in common with all present, he thought great things. " They say they wants nothing but what's their own, and liberty, and that like " " If thou wert a shepherd. Master Higgs," replied Dickons, " and wert to be asked by ten or a dozen wolves to let them in among thy flock of sheep, they saying how quiet and kind they would be to 'em — would'st let 'em in, or keep 'em out — eh ?" " Ay, ay — that be it ; 'tis as true as gospel," said the clerk. " So you a'n't to have that old sycamore down, after all. Master Dick- ons ?" inquired Tonson, after a pause in the conversation. "No; Miss hath carried the day against the Squire and Mr. Waters; and there stands the old tree, and it hath to be looked to better than ever it were afore." " Why hath Miss taken such a fancy to it? 'Tis an old crazy thing." " If thou hadst been there when she did beg, as I may say its life," re- plied Dickons, with a little energy, " and hadst seen her and heard her voice, that be as smooth as cream, thou wouldst never have forgotten it, I can tell thee 1" "There isn't a more beautiftil lady i' t' county, I reckon, than the Squire's sister ?" inquired the sexton. "No, nor in all England ; if there be, I'll lay down twenty pounds." " And Where's to be found a young lady that do go about i' t' village like she ? She were wi' Phoebe Williams t'other night, all through the snow, and i' t' dark." " If I'd only laid hands on that chap 1" interrupted the young farmer, her rescuer. " I wonder she did not choose some one to be married to up in London," said the landlord. " She'U be having some delicate high quality chap, I reckon, one o' these fine days," said Hazel. "She will be a dainty dish, truly, for whomever God gives her to," quoth Dickons. " Ay, she will," said more than one, in an earnest tone. "Now, to my mind," said Tonson, "saving your presence, Master Dick- ons, I know not but young Madam be more to my taste ; she be in a man- ner' somewhat fuller— plumper-like, and her skin be so white, and her hair as black as a raven's." " There's not another two such ladies to be found in the whole world, said Dickons, authoritatively. Here Hector suddenly rose up, and went to the door, where he stood snuflBng in an inquisitive manner. "Now, what do that dog hear, I wonder?" quoth Pumpkin, curiously, stooping forward. 226 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " Blind Bess," replied Tonson, winking his eye and laughing. Presently there was a sharp rapping at the doOr, which the landlord opened, and let in one of the servants from the Hall, his clothes white with snow, his face nearly as white, with manifest agitation. "Why, man, what's the matter?" inquired Dickons, startled by the man's appearance. " Art frightened at anything ?" "Oh, Lord! oh, Lordl" he commenced. "What is it, man? Art drunk?— or mad?— or frightened? Take a drop o' drink," said Tonson. But the man refused it. " Oh, Lord 1 there's woeful work at the Hall." " What's the matter ?" cried all at once, rising and standing round the new comer. "If thou be'st drunk, John," said Dickon^ sternly, "there's a way of sobering thee — mind that." "Oh, Master Dickons, I don't know what's come to me, for grief and fright ! The Squire, they do say, and all of us, are to be turned out o' Yatton !" "What/" exclaimed all in a breath. "There's some one else lays claim to it. We must all go. Oh, Lud! oh, Lud !" No one spoke for a while, and consternation was written on every face. "Sit thee down here, John," said Dickons at length, "and let us hear what thou hast to say, or thou wUt have us all be going up in a body to the HaU." Having forced on him part of a glass of ale, he began : — " There hath been plainly mischief brewing somewhere this many days, as I could tell by the troubled face o' t' Squire ; but he kept it to himself. Lawyer Par- kinson and another have been latterly coming in chaises from London, and last night the Squire got a letter which seems to have finished aU. Such trouble there were last night wi' t' Squire, and young Madam and Miss I And to-day the parson came, and were a long while alone with old Madam, who hath since had a stroke, or a fit, or something of that like (the doctors have been there all day from Grilston), and likewise young Madam hath taken to her bed, and is ill. Oh, Lud 1 oh, Lud ! Such work there be going on !" " And what of the Squire and Miss ?" inquired some one, after all had maintained a long silence. " Oh, 'twould break your heart to see them,'' said the man, doleftdly ; "they be both pale as death, — he so dreadful sorrowful, but quiet like, and she now and then wringing her hatids, and both of them going from the bedroom of old Madam to young Madam's. Nay, an' there had been half- a-dozen deaths i' t' house, it could not be worse. Neither the Squire or Miss hath touched food the whole day." There was, in truth, not a dry eye in the room, nor one whose voioe did not seem somewhat obstructed with his emotions. "Who told thee all this about the Squire's losing the estate ?" inquired Dickons, with mingled trepidation and sternness. " We heard of it but an hour or so agone. Mr. Parkinson (it seems by TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 227 the Squire's orders) told Mr. Waters, aad he told it to us, saying as how it were useless to keep such a thinji; secret, and that we might as well all know the occasion of so much trouble." " Who's to ha' it, then, instead of the Squire ?" at length inquired Ton- son, in a voice half choked with rage and grief. " Lord only knows at present. But whoever 'tis, there isn't one of us sarvents hut will go with the Squire and his, if it he even to prison — thd I can tell ye !" " I'm Squire Aubrey's gamekeeper," quoth Tonson, his «ye kindling as his countenance darkened, " and no one's else I It shall go hard if any one else here hath a game " " But if there's law in the land, sure the justice must be wi' t' Squire — he and his fiimily have had it so long ?" said one of the farmers. " I'U tell you what, masters," said Pumpkin, mysteriously, " I shall be somewhat better pleased when Jonas here hath got that old creature Bess safe underground." - " Blind Bess I" exclaimed Tonson, with a very serious, not to say dis- turbed, countenance. " I wonder — sure, sure, that ould witch can have had no hand in all this — eh ? " " Poor old soul I not she. There be no such things as witches nowadays," exclaimed Jonas. " Not she, I warrant me ! She hath been ever befriended by the Squire's family. She do it 1" " The sooner we get that old woman underground, for all that, the better, say I," quoth Tonson, significantly. " The parson hath a choice sermon on ' The Flying Away of Biches,' " said Higgs, in a quaint, sad manner ; " 'tis to be hoped he'll preach from it next Sunday ! " Soon after this the little party dispersed, each oppressed with greater grief and amazement than he had ever known before. Bad news flies swiftly, and that which had just come from the Hall, within a very few hours of its having been told at the Aubrey Arms, had spread grief and consternation among high and low for many miles around Yatton. CHAPTEE VII. GAMMON versus tag-bag; and snap cum TITMOTTSE, INTEODUCilNG HIM TO LIFE IN LONDON — OF ONE SOBT. WOULD you haveheUeved it? Notwithstanding all that had hap- pened between Titmouse and Tag-rag at Satin Lodge on the Sunday evening on which they were last seen together, they positively got recon- ciled ! — a triumphant result of the astute policy of Mr. Gammon. As soon as he had heard Titmouse's infuriated account of his ignominious expul- sion from the mansion in question, Mr.. Gammon burst into a fit of hearty but gentle laughter, at length subsiding into an inward chuckle, which 228 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. lasted the rest of the day ; this was occasioned, first, by gratification at the impression which his own sagacity had evidently produced upon the powerful mind of Mr. Titmouse ; secondly, by an exquisite appreciation of the mingled meanness and stupidity of Tag-rag. I do not mean it to be understood that Titmouse had given Mr. Gammon such a terse and clear yet picturesque account of the matter aa I imagine myself to have given to the reader ; but still he told quite enough to put his mentor in fall possession of the true state of the case. Good : but then, instantly reflected Gamjnon, what are we now to do with Titmouse ? Where was that troublesome little ape to be caged, till it suited the purposes of his proprietors (as Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap might surely be called, for they had caught him, however they might fail to tame him) to let him loose upon society, to amuse and astonish it by his antics ? That was the question occupying the thoughts of Mr. Gammon, while his calm, clear, gray eye was fixed upon Titmouse, apparently very attentive to what he was saying. The latter gentleman had first told the story of his wrongs to Snap, who instantly, rubbing his hands, suggested an indictment at the Clerkenwell sessions — an idea which infinitely delighted Titmouse, but was somewhat sternly " pooh-poohed 1" by Mr. Gammon as soon as he heard of it, — Snap thereat shrugging his shoulders with a disconcerted air, but a bitter sneer upon his sharp, hard fece. Like many men of little but active minds, early drilled to particular and petty callings. Snap was equal to the mechanical conduct of business, the mere working of the machinery ; but, as the phrase is, could never see an inch beyond his nose. Every little conjecture of circumstances which admitted of litigation at once suggested its expediency, without reference to other considerations, or connection with, or subordination to, any general purpose or plan of action. A creature of small impulses, he had no idea of foregoing a momentary advantage to secure an ulterior object of importance^-which, in fact, he could not keep for a moment before his thoughts, so as to have any influence on his move- ments. What a difierent man, now, was Gammon 1 To speak after the manner of physiologists, several of the characters in this history — to wit. Titmouse, Tag-rag (with his amiable wife and daughter), Huckaback, Snap, and old Quirk himself — may be looked on as reptiles of a low order in the scale of being, whose simple structures almost one dash of the knife would suffice to lay thoroughly open. Gam- mon, however, I look upon as of a much higher order, possessing a far more complicated structure, adapted to the discharge of superior functions, and who, consequently, requireth a more careful dissection. But let it not be supposed that I have yet done with any of my characters. Gammon saw that Tag-rag, under proper management, might be made very useful. He was a moneyed man ; a selfish man ; and, after his sort, an ambitious man. He had an only child, a daughter ; and if Titmouse and he could only be by any means once more brought together, and a flLrm friendship cemented between them. Gammon saw several very' profitable uses to which such an intimacy might be turned, in the happening of any of several contemplated contingencies. In the event, for instance, of larger outlays of money being required than suited the convenience of the firm — TMN THOUSAND A YEAS. 229 could not Tag-rsig be easily brought to accommodate his future son-in-law of £10,000 a year ? Suppose that, alas ! their case should finally break down, and all their pains, exertions and expenditure be utterly thrown away ! Now, if Tag-rag could be quietly brought, some fine day, to the point of either making an actual advance, or becoming security for Tit- mouse — ah I that would do — that wovid do, said both Quirk and Gammon. But then Titmouse was a very unsafe instrument — an incalculable fool, and might commit himself too far I " You mustn't forget. Gammon," said old Mr. Quirk, " that I don't fear this girl of Tag-rag's. Not 1 1 because only let Titmouse see — hem," he suddenly paused, and looked a little confused. " To be sure — I see," replied Gammon quietly, and the thing passed off. "If either Miss Quirk or Miss Tag-rag becomes Mrs. Titmouse," thought he, however, " I am not the man I take myself for." A few days after the explosion at Satin Lodge, Titmouse, without having ever gone near Tag-rag's premises in Oxford street, or, in short, seen or heard anything about him, or any one connected with him, removed to small but respectable lodgings in the neighborhood of Hatton Garden, provided for him by Mr. Quirk. Mrs. Squallop was quite affected while she took leave of her lodger, who gave her son a hal^enny to take his two boxes down stairs to the hackney coach, drawn up opposite to the entrance of Closet Court. " I've always felt like a mother towards you, sir, in my humble way," said Mrs. Squallop in a very respectful manner, and curtsying profoundly. "A — I've not got any — a — change by me, my good woman," said Tit- mouse with a fine air, as he drew on his white kid glove. "Lord, Mr. Titmouse!" said the woman, almost bursting into tears, "I wasn't asking for money, neither for me nor mine-=-only one can't help, as it were, feeling at parting with an old lodger, you know, sir " "Ah — ya-as — and all that! Well, my good woman, good-day, good- day I" quoth Titmouse, with an air of languid indifference. " Good-bye, sir — God bless you, sir, now you're going to be a rich man ! Excuse me, sir." And she seized his hand and shook it. "You're a — devilish — impudent — woman— 'pon my soull" exclaimed .Titmouse, his features fiUed with amazement at the presumption of which she had been guilty, and staring at his fingers as though they had been contaminated by the contact ; and he strode down the stairs with an air of offended dignity. " Well, I never 1 That for you, you little brute,'' exclaimed Mrs. Squal- lop, snapping her fingers as soon as she had heard his last step on the stairs. " Kind or cruel, it's all one to you ! You're a nasty jackanapes, only fit to stand in a tailor's window to show his clothes — and I'U be sworn you'U come to no good in the end, please God ! Let you be rich as you may, you'll always be the fool you always was — that's one comfort !" Had the good woman been familiar with the Night Thoughts of Dr. Young, she might have expressed herself somewhat tersely in a line of his — " Pigmies are pigmies still tlnngh perched on Alps." 230 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. And, by the way, who can read the next line — "And pyramids are pyramids in vales," without thinking for a moment, with a kind of proud sympathy, of certain other characters in this history ? Well 1 but let us pass on. The day after that on which Mr. Gammon had had a long interview, with Titmouse, at the new lodgings of the latter, — when, after a skillful effort, he had succeeded in reconciling Titmouse to a renewal of his ac- quaintance with Tag-rag, upon that gentleman's making a complete and abject apology for his late monstrous conduct, — ^Mr. Gammon wended his way towards Oxford street, and soon introduced himself once more to Mr. Tag-rag, who was standing leaning against one of the counters in his shop in a musing position, with a pen behind his ear, and his hands in his , breeches' pockets. Ten days had elapsed since he had expelled the little impostor Titmouse from Satin Lodge, and during that interval he had neither seen nor heard anything whatever of him. On now catchii^g the first glimpse of Mr. Gammon, he started from his musing posture, not a little disconcerted, and agitation overspread his coarse deeply-pitted face with a tallowy hue. What was in the wind ! Mr. Gammon coming tp , him — and so long after what had occurred? Mr. Gammon, too, who, having found out his error, had discarded Titmouse 1 Tag-rag had a mortal dread of Gammon, who seemed to him to glide like a dangerous snake into the shop, so quiet and so deadly ! There was something so calm and imperturbable in his demeanor, so blandly crafty, so ominously gentle and soft in the tone of his voice, so penetrating in his eye, and he could throw such an infernal smile over his features ! Tag-rag might be likened to the animal suddenly shuddering as he perceives the glistening folds of the rattlesnake moving towards or around him, in the long grass. One glimpse of his blasting beauty of hue, and — horror ! all is over. If the splendid bubble of Titmouse's fortune had burst in the manner which he had represented, why Gammon here now ? thought Tag-rag. It was with, in truth, a poor show of contempt and defiance, that, in answer to the bland salutation of Gammon, Tag-rag led the way down the shop into the little room which had been the scene of such an extraordinary communication concerning Titmouse on a fojrmer occasion. Gammon commenced, in a mild tone, with a startling representation of ' the criminal liability whiqh Tag-rag had incurred by his wanton outrage upon Mr. Titmouse, his own guest, moreover, in violation of all the laws of hospitality. Tag-rag furiously alleged the imposition which had been practiced on him by Titmouse, but seemed quite collapsed when Gummon assured him that that circumstance would not afibrd him the slightest legal justification. Having satisfied Tag-rag that he was entirely at the mercy of Titmouse, who might subject him to both heavy fine and imprisonment, besides heavy law expenses, and exposure to the public of his shameful conduct, which might greatly prejudice him in his business, Mr. Gammon proceeded to open Tag-rag's eyes to their widest stare of amazement, by assuring him that Titmouse had been hoaxing him— or, perhaps, testing the sincerity of his attachment^ — and that he was really in the dazzling TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 231 position in which he had been first represented by Gammon to Tag-rag j that every week brought him nearer to the full and uncontrolled enjoy- ment of an estate in Yorkshire worth £10,000 a year at the very lowest ; that it was becoming an object of increasing anxiety to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap to keep him out of the hands of money-lenders, who, as usual in such cases, had already scented out their victim, and so forth. Tag-rag turned very white, and felt sick at heart, in the midst of all his wonder. Oh, and his daughter had lost the golden prize 1 and through his stupidity and brutality! He could have sunk into the cellar I Mr. Gammon declared that he could not account for the singular conduct of Mr. Titmouse on the melancholy occasion in question, except on the grounds above hinted at, or by referring it to the excellent wines which he had too freely partaken of at Satin Lodge, added, said Gammon, with an exquisite expression of features which perfectly feseinated Tag-rag, to a " certain tender influence" which had fairly laid prostrate the fiwiulties of the young and enthusiastic Titmouse ; that there could be little doubt of his ruling motive in the conduct alluded to, namely, a desire to test the sincerity and disinterestedness of a " certain person's" attachment before he let all his fond and passionate feeling go out towards her — [at this point the perspiration burst from every pore in the devoted body of Tag-rag] — and that no one could deplore the unexpected issue of his little experiment so much as now did Titmouse. Tag-rag really, for a moment, scarcely knew where he was, who was with him, or whether he stood on his head or his heels, so delightfiil and en- tirely unexpected, but at the same time agitating, was the issue of Mr. Gammon's visit. As soon as his faculties had somewhat recovered from their temporary confusion, almost breathless, he assured Gammon that no event in the whole course of his life had occasioned him such poignant re- gret as his treatment of Titmouse on the occasion in question ; that he had undoubtedly followed unwittingly, he was ashamed to own, the example of Titmouse, and drunk far more than his usual quantity of wine ; besides which, he had undoubtedly noticed, as had Mrs. T., the state of things between Mr. Titmouse and his daughter — ^talking of whom, by the way, he could assure Mr. Gammon that both Mrs. and Miss T. had been ill ever since that unfortunate evening, and had never ceased to condemn his (Tag- rag's) monstrous conduct on that occasion. As for Miss T., she was grow- ing thinner and thinner every day, and he thought he must send her to the country for a short time: in fact — poor girl! — she was plainly pining away ! To all this Mr. Gammon listened with a calm, delightful, sympathizing look, which quite transported Tag-rag, and satisfied him that Mr. Gammon implicitly believed every word that was being said to him. But when he proceeded to assure Tag-rag that this visit of his had been undertaken at the earnest instance of Mr. Titmouse himself (who, by the way, had re- moved to lodgings which would suit his present circumstances, and were also near to their office, for the piu-pose of fi'equent communication on matters of business between him and their firm), who had urged Mr. Gammon to tender the olive branch, in the devout hope that it might be 232 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. accepted — Tag-rag's excitement knew scarce any bounds; and he could almost have started into the shop, and given orders to his shopmen to shut up shop half an hour earlier for the rest of the week ! Mr. Gammon wrote down Titmouse's direction, and handing it to Mr. Tag-rag, assured him that a caU from him would be gratefully received by Mr. Titmouse. " There's no accounting for these things, Mr. Tag-rag, is there ?" said Mr. Gammon, with an arch smile, as he prepared to depart — Tag-rag squeezing his hands with painful energy as Gammou bade him adieu, declaring that "he should not be himself for the rest of the day," and bowing the afore- said Mr. Gammon down the shop with as profound an obsequiousness as if he had been the Governor of the Bank of England, or even the Lord Mayor. As soon as Gammou had got fiiirly into the street, and to a safe distance, he burst into little gentle paroxysms of laughter, every now and then, which lasted him till he had regained his office in Saffron Hill. The motive so boldly and skiLLfijlly suggested by Gammon to Tag-rag, as that impelling Titmouse, to seek a reconciliation with him, was greedily credited by Tag-rag. 'Tis certainly very easy, as every observant man has occasion to notice in himself, to believe what one wishes to be true. Was it very improbable that Tag-rag, loving only one object on earth — next to money, which indeed he really did love with the best energies of his nature — namely, his daughter ; and believing her possessed of qualities calculated to excite every one's love — should believe that she had inspired Titmouse with the passion of which he had just been hearing ? — a passion consuming him, and not to be quenched by even the gross outrage which ^but faugh ! thai, Tag-rag shuddered to think of. He clapped his hat on his head, started off to Titmouse's lodgings, and fortunately caught that gentleman just as he was going out to dine at a neighboring tavern. If Tag-rag had been a keen observer, he could hardly have failed to discover aversion towards himself written in every feature and gesture of Titmouse ; and also the difficulty which he experienced in concealing his feelings. But his eagerness overbore everything, and he took Titmouse quite by storm. Before Tag-rag had done with him, he had obliterated every trace of resentment in his little Mend's bosom. Thoroughly as Gammon thought he had armed Titmouse against the encounter — indeed, at all points — ^'twas of no avail. Tag-rag poured such a monstrous quantity of flummery down the gaping mouth and insatiate throat of the little animal, as at length produced > its desired effect. So &ail is human nature, that few can resist flattery, however coarsely administered ; but as for Titmouse, he felt the delicious fluid softly insinuating itself into every crevice of his little soul, for which it seemed, indeed, to have a sort of elective affinity ; 'twas a balm, 'twas an opiate soothing his wounded pride, lubricating all his inner man; nay, flooding it, so as at length to extinguish entirely the small glimmering spark of discernment which nature had lit in him. "To be forewarned, is to be forearmed," says the proverb ; but it was not verified in the present instance. Titmouse would have dined at Satin Lodge on the very next Sunday, in accordance with the pressing invitations of Tag- rag, but that he happened to recollect having engaged himself to dine on that evening with Mr, Quirk, at his residence in Camberwell — Alibi TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. 233 HotrsE. As I have already intimated in a previous part of this history, that most respectable old gentleman, Mr. Quirk, with the shrewdness natural to him, and which had been quickened by his great experience, had soon seen through the ill-contrived and worse-concealed designs upon Titmouse of Mr. Tag-rag, and justly considered that the surest method of rendering them abortive would be to familiarize Titmouse with a superior style of things, such as was to be found at Alibi House — and a more lovely and attractive object for his best affections in Miss Quirk — ^Dora Quirk — the lustre of whose charms and accomplishments there could be no doubt, he thought, would instantly efface the image of that poor, feeble, vulgar creature. Miss Tag-rag ; for such old Quirk knew she must be, though he had, in fact, never set eyes upon her. Mr. Tag-rag looked rather blank at hearing of the grand party there was to be at Alibi House, and that Tit- mouse was to be introduced to the only daughter of Mr. Quirk ! and could not for the life of him abstain from dropping something, vague and indis- tinct, to be sure, about " entrapping unsuspecting innocence," and " inter- ested attentions," and other similar expressions — all of which, however, were lost upon Titmouse. Tapping with an auctioneer's hammer on a block of granite, would make about as much impression upon it as will hint, innuendo, or suggestion upon a blockhead. So it was with Titmouse. He promised to dine at Satin Lodge on the Sunday after the ensuing one— with which poor Mr. Tag-rag was obliged to depart content ; having been unable to get Titmouse up to Clapham on either of the intervening even- ings, on which, he told Mr. Tag-rag, he was particularly engaged with an intimate friend — " in fact, one of His solicitoes ;" and Tag-rag leiit him, after shaking him by the hand with the utmost cordiality and energy. He instantly conceived a lively hatred of old Mr. Quirk and his daughter, who seemed taking so unfeir an advantage. What, however, could be done ? Many times during his interview did he anxiously turn about in his mind the expediency of proffering to lend or give Titmouse a five- pound note, of which he had one or two in his pocket-book ; but no — 'twas too much for human nature — he could not bring himself to it, and quitted Titmouse as rich a man as he had entered that truly fortimate gentleman's The "intimate friend" to whom Titmouse alluded, as having engaged himself to dinner with him, was, in fact, Mr. Snap ; who had early evinced a great partiality for him, and lost no opportunity of contributing to his enjoyment. Snap was a sharp-sighted person, and quickly detected many qualities in Titmouse kindred to his own. He sincerely commiserated Titmouse's situation, than which, could anything be more lonely and deso- late ? Was he to sit night after night, in the lengthening nights of autumn and winter, with not a soul to speak to, not a book to read (that was at least interesting or worth reading) ; nothing, in short, to occupy his atten- tion? "No," said Snap to himself; "I will do as I would be done by; 1 will come and draw him out of his dxiU hole ; I will show him life — I will give him an early insight into the habits and practices of the great world, in which he is so soon to cut a leading figure ! I will early familiarize him with the gayest and most exciting modes of London life 1" The very 234 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. first taste of this cup of pleasure was exquisitely relished by Titmouse ; and he felt a proportionate gratitude to him whose kind hand had first raised it to his lips. Scenes of which he had heretofore only heard and read, after which he had often sighed and yearned, were now open daily before him, limited as were his means ; and he felt perfectly happy. When Snap had finished the day's labors of the office, from which he was generally released about eight or nine o'clock in the evening, he would repair to his lodgings, and decorate himself for the night's display ; after which, either he would go to Titmouse, or Titmouse come to him, as might have been previously agreed upon between them ; and then, — " The tovm was all before them, where to choose I" Sometimes they would, arm in arm, each with his cigar in his month, saunter, for hours together, along the leading streets and thoroughfares, making acute observations and deep reflections upon the ever-moving and motley scenes around them. Most frequently, however^ they would repair, • at half-price, to the theatres ; for Snap had the means of securing almost . a constant supply of " orders " from the underlings of the theatre, and also from reporters to the Sunday Flash (with which Messrs. Quirk and Gam- mon were connected), and other newspapers. Ah, 'twas a glorious sight to see these two gentlemen saunter into a vacant box, conscious that the eyes of two-thirds of the house were fixed upon them in admiration, and conducting themselves accordingly — as swells of the first water 1 One such night counterbalanced, in Titmouse's estimation, a whole ypar of his pre- vious obscurity and wretchedness I The theatre over, they would repair to some cloudy tavern, fliU of noise and smoke, and the glare of gaslight — ^redolent of the fragrant fames of tobacco, gin and porter, intermingled with -the tempting odors of smoking kidneys, mutton-chops, beefeteaks,, oysters, stewed cheese, toasted cheese, Welsh rabbits ; where those who axe chained to the desk and the counter during the day revel in the license of the hour, and eat, and drink, and smoke to the highest point of either excitement or stupefaction, and enter into all the slang of the day — of the turf, the ring, the cockpit, the theatres — and shake their sides at comic, or gloat over ribald songs. To enter one of these places when the theatre was over, was a luxury indeed to Titmouse ; figged out in his very utter- most best, with sa,tin stock and double breastpins ; his glossy hat cocked on one side of his head, his tight blue surtout, with the snowy handkerchief elegantly drooping out of the breast-pocket ; straw-colored kid gloves, tight , trousers, and shining boots ; his ebony silver-headed cane held carelessly under his arm. To walk into the middle of the room with a sort of haughty ease and indifierence, or nonchalance, and after deliberately scanning, through his eye-glass, every box, with its occupants, at length drop into a vacant nook, and with a languid air summon the bustling waiter to receive his commands, was ecstasy I The circumstance of his almost always ac- companying Snap on these occasions, who was held in great awe by the waiters, to whom his professional celebrity was well known (for there was scarce an interesting, a dreadful, or a nasty scene at any of the police-pflices, in which Snap's name did not figure in the newspapers as " appearing on TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 235 behalf of the prisoner"), got Titmouse almost an equal share of considera- tion, and aided the effect produced by his own commanding appearance. As for Snap, whenever he was asked who his companion was, he would whisper in a very significant tone and manner — " Devilish high chap 1" From these places they would repair, not unfrequently, to certain other scenes of nightly London life, of which, I thank God 1 the virtuous reader can form no notion, though they are, strange to say, winked at, if not pat- ronized, by the police and magistracy, till the metropolis is choked with them. Thus would Snap and Titmouse pleasantly and profitably pass away their time till one, two, three, and often four o'clock in the morning, at which hours they would, with many yawns, skulk homewards through the deserted and silent streets, their clothes redolent of tobacco smoke, their stomachs overcharged, their heads often muddled, swimming, and throbbing with their multifarious potations — having thus spent a "jolly night," and " seen life." 'Twas thus that Snap greatly endeared himself to Titmouse, and secretly (for he enjoined upon Titmouse, as the condition of their continuance, strict secrecy on the subject of these nocturnal adven- tures) stole a march upon his older competitors for the good opinion of Titmouse — Messrs. Quirk, Tag-rag, and even the astute and experienced Gammon himself. Such doings as these required, however, as may easily be believed, some slight augmentations of the allowance made to Titmouse by Messrs. Quirk and Gammon ; and it was fortunate that Snap was in a condition, having a few hundreds at his command, to supply the necessities of Titmouse, receiving with a careless air, on the occasion of such ad- vances, small slips of paper by way of acknowledgments ; some on stamped paper, others on unstamped paper — promissory notes, and I. O. TJ.'s. Inas- much, however, as Snap was not always possessed of a stamp on the occa- sion of a sudden advance, and having asked the opinion of his pleader (a sharp fellow who had been articled at the same time as himself to Messrs. Quirk and Gammon) as to whether an instrument in this form — " I. O. U. so much — vdth interest," — would be available without a stamp, and being informed that it was doubtful, Snap ingeniously met the diffi- culty by quietly adding to the principal what might become due in respect of interest : e. g. ii £5 were lent, the acknowledgment would stand fdr £\h — these little slips of paper being generally signed by Titmouse in moments of extreme exhilaration, when he never thought of scrutinizing anything that his friend Snap would lay before him. For the honor of Snap, I must say that I hardly think he deliberately purposed to perpetrate the fraud which such a transaction appears to amount to ; all he wanted was — so he satisfied himself, at least — to have it in his power to recover the full amount of principal really advanced, with interest, on one or other of these various securities, and — hold the surplus as trustee for Titmouse. If, for instance, any unfortunate difference should hereafter arise be- tween himself and Titmouse, and he should refuse to recognize his pecu- niary obligations to Snap, the latter gentleman would be provided with every and easy proofs of his demands against him. 'Twas thus, I say, that Snap soothed the sensitive remains of his conscience, and rendered himself indispensable to Titmouse, whom he bound to him by every tie of 236 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. gratitude; so that, in short, they became sworn Mends, and each was worthy of the other. I will always say for Gammon, that, whatever might have been his motive, he strenuously endeavored to urge upon Titmouse the necessity of acquiring, at all events, a smattering of the elements of useful education. Beyond an acquaintance with the petty operations of arithmetic requisite for counter-transactions, I will venture to say that poor Titmouse had no serviceable knowledge of any kind. Mr. GUnunon repeatedly pressed him to put himself under competent teachers of the ordinary branches of education ; but Titmouse as often evaded him, and at length flatly refused to do anything of the kind. He promised, however, to read such books as Mr. Gammon might recommend, who thereupon sent him several ; but a book before Titmouse was much the same as a plate of sawdust before a hungry man. Mr. Gammon, himself a man of considerable acquirements, soon saw the true state of the case, and gave up his attempts in despair and disgust. Not that he ever suffered Titmouse to perceive the faintest indication of such feelings towaxds him ; on the contrary. Gammon ever exhibited the same bland and benignant demeanor, consulting his wishes in everything, and striving to instill into him feelings of love, tempered by respect, as towards the most powerful — the only real, disinterested Mend he had. To a great extent he succeeded. CHAPTER VIII. THE FEAST OF KEASON AND THE FLOW OF SOtTL AT AMBI HOUSE; ME. QUIEK'S BANQTIET TO TITMOTJSE, WHO IS OVEECOME BY IT. TITMOUSE spent several hours in preparing for an effective first ap- pearance at the dinner-table at Alibi House. Since dining at Satin Lodge, he had considerably increased his wardrobe both in quantity and style. He now sported a pair of tight black trousers, with pumps and gossamer silk stockings. He wore a crimson-velvet waistcoat, with a bright blue satin under-waistcoat, a shirt-frill standing out somewhat fiercely at right angles with his breast, and a brown dress-coat cut in the extreme of the fashion, the long tails coming to a point just above the backs of his knees. His hair, its purple hue still pretty distinctly perceptible, was dis- posed with great elegance. He had discarded mustaches ; but had a prom- ising imperial. The hair underneath his chin came out curling on each side of it, above his stock, like two little tufts orlioms. Over his waistcoat he wore his mosaic gold watch-guard, and a broad black watered ribbon, to which was attached his eye-glass — in fact, if he had dressed himself in order to sit to a miniature-painter for his likeness, he could not have taken greater pains, or secured a more successful result. The only points about his appearance with which he was at all dissatisfied, were his hair — which was not yet the thing which he hoped in due time to see it — his thick red TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 237 stumpy hands, and his round shoulders. The last matter gave him con- siderable concern, for he felt that it seriously interfered with a graceful carriage, and that the defect in his figure had been, after aU, not in the least remedied by the prodigious padding of his coat. His protuberant eyes, of light hue, had an expression entirely harmonizing with that of his open mouth, and both together, quite independently of his dress, carriage, and demeanor, gave you — there is nothing like being candid — the image of a complete fool. Having at length carefully adjusted his hat on his head, and drawn on his white kid gloves, he enveloped himself in a stylish cloaJ^, with long black silk tassels, which had been lent to him by Snap, and about four o'clock forth sallied Mr. Titmouse, careftilly picking his way, in quest of the first coach that could convey him to Alibi House, or as near to it as might be He soon found one, and, conscious that his appear- ance was far too splendid for an outside place, got inside. All the way along, his heart was in a little flutter of vanity, excitement, and expecta- tion. He was going to be introduced to Miss Quirk, and probably, also, to several people of great consequence, as the heir-apparent to £10,000 a year ! With two respectable female passengers, his companions, he never once deigned to interchange a syllable. Four or five times did he put his head out of the window, calling out in a loud, peremptory tone, " Mind, coach- man — Alibi House — Mr. Qnirk's^ — Alibi House. Do you hear, demme ?" after which he would sink back into the seat with a magnificent air, as if he had not been used to give himself so much trouble. The coach at length stopped. " Halibi Ouse, sir," said the coachman, in a respectful tone,—" this is Mr. Quirk's, sir." Titmouse stepped out, dropped eighteen- pence into the man's hand, and opening the gate, found himsek' in a straight and narrow gravel walk, of about twenty yards in length, with little, obstinate-looking stunted shrubs on each side. It was generally known among Mr. Quirk's friends by the name of " The Rope Walk." Titmouse might have been before, for a moment, in as fine-looking a house, but only to deliver a bundle of drapery or hosiery : never before had he entered such an one in the quality of guest. It was, in fact, a fair- sized house, at least treble that of Satin Lodge, and had a far more stylish appearance. When Titmouse pulled the bell, the door was quickly plucked open by a big footman; with showy shoulder-knot and splendid red plush breeches, who soon disposed of Titmouse's cloak and hat, and led the way to the drawing-room, before our friend, with a sudden palpitation of the heart, had had a moment's time even to run his hands through his hair. " What name, sir ?" inquired the man, suddenly pausing, with his hand upon the handle of the door. "Mr. Titmouse." " I — ^beg your pardon, sir, what name ?" Titmouse, clearing his throat, repeated his name. Open went the door, and "Mr. Ticklemouse," said the servant, very loudly and distinctly — ushering in Titmouse, on whom the door was the next instant closed. He felt amazingly flustered, and he would have been still more so could he have been made aware of the titter which pervaded the fourteen or twenty people assembled in the room, occasioned by the droll misnomer of the 238 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. servant, and the exquisitely ridiculous appearance of the guest whom he had so introduced. Mr. Quirk, dressed in black, with knee-breeches and silk stockings^ immediately bustled up to him, shook him cordially by the hand, and led him up to the assembled guests. "My daughter — Miss Quirk; Mrs. Alderman Addlehead; Mrs. Deputy Diddle-Daddle ; Mrs. Alias — my sister ; Mr. Alderman Addlehead ; Mr. Deputy Diddle-Daddle ; Mr. Bluster ; Mr. Slang ; Mr. Hug ; Mr. Flaw ; Mr. Viper ; Mr. Ghastly ; Mr. Gammon you know. Miss Quirk was about four or five and twenty — a fat young lady, with flaxen hair, curled formally all over her head and down to her shoulders, so that she strongly resembled one of those great wax dolls seen in bazaars and shop-windows. Her complexion was beautifully fair ; her eyes were small ; her face was quite round and fat. From the die-away manner in which she moved her head, and the languid tone of her voice, it was obvious that she was a sentimental young lady. She was dressed in white, and wore a massive gold chain — her fat aims being half covered with long kid gloves. She was sitting on the sofa, from which she did not rise when Titmouse was introduced to her — and the moment afterwards, hid her face behind the album which had been lying on her knee, and which she had been showing to the ladies on each side of her ; for, in fact, neither she nor any one else could, without the greatest diffi- culty, refrain from laughing at the monkeyfled appearance of our friend. The Alderman was a stout, stupid little man — a fussy old prig — ^with small angry-looking black eyes, and a short red nose ; as for his head, it seemed as though he had just smeared some sticky fluid over it, and then dipped it into a flour tub, so thickly laden was it with powder. Mr. Deputy Diddle- Daddle was tall and thin, and serious and slow of speech, with the solemn composure of an undertaker. Mr. Bluster was a great Old Bailey barrister, about fifty years old, the leader constantly employed by Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, and was making at least a thousand a year. He had an amazingly truculent-looking countenance, coarse to a degree, and his voice matched it ; but on occasions like the present — i. e, in elegant society — he would fain drop the successful terrors of his manner, and appear the mild, dignified gentleman. He therefore spoke in a soft, cringing way, with an anxious smile ; but his bold, insolent eye and coarse mouth — ^what could disguise or mitigate their expression ? Here he wa^, playing the great man, making himself, however, particularly agreeable to Messrs. Quirk and Gammon. Slang was of the same school — fat, vulgar, confident, and empty ; telling obscene jokes and stories with unctuous humor. He sang a good song, too, particularly of that class which required the absence of ladies — and of gentlemen,. Hug — ^Mr. Toady Hug — was also a barrister — a glib little Jewish-looking fellow, creeping into considerable criminal practice. He was a sneaking backbiter, and had a bloodhound scent after an attor- ney. See him, for instance, at this moment, in ctose and eager conversa- tion with Mr. Flaw, who, rely upon it, will give him a brief before the week is over. Viper was the editor of the Simdaiy Flash — a cold, venomous little creature. He was a philosopher — and of opinion that everything was wrong — moral, physical, intellectual, and social ; that there was really no such thing — or at least ought not to be — as religion ; and as to political TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 239 rights, that everybody was equal, and if any were uppermost, all ouglit to be ! He had failed in business twice, and disreputably ; then had become a parson of some sort or other ; but, having seduced a young female mem- ber of his congregation, was expelled from his pulpit. An action having been brought against him by the mother of his victim, and heavy damages obtained, he attempted to take the benefit of the Insolvent Debtors' Act, but on account of the aforesaid verdict, he was remanded for eighteen months. That period he employed in writing a shockingly blasphemous work, for which he was prosecuted, and sentenced to a fine and imprison- ment. On being released from prison, saturated with gall and bitterness against all mankind, he took to political writing of a violent character, and was at length picked up, half starved, by his present patron, Mr. Quirk, and made editor of the Sunday Flash. Is not all this history written in his sallow, sinister-eyed, bitter-expressioned countenance? Woe to him who gets into a discussion with Viper 1 There were one or two others present, particularly a Mr. Ghastly, a third-rate tragic actor, with a tremendous mouth, only one eye, and a very hungry look. He never spoke, because no one ever spoke to him, for his clothes seemed rather rusty black. The only man of gentleman-like ap- pearance in the room was Mr. Gammon, and he took an early opportunity of engaging poor Titmouse in conversation, and setting him comparatively at his ease — a thing which was attempted by old Quirk, but in such a fidgety-fussy way as served only to fluster Titmouse the more. Mr. Quirk gave a dinner-party of this sort regularly every Sunday ; and they formed the happiest moments of his life — occasions on which he felt that he had achieved success in life — on which he banished from his thoughts the responsible and dignified anxieties of his profession ; and, surrounded by a select circle af choice spirits, such as were thus collected together, par- took joyously of the " Feast of reason, and the flow of soul." "This is a beautiful picture, Mr. Titmouse, isn't it?" said Gammon, leading him to the farther comer of the drawing-room, where hung a small picture, with a sort of curtain of black gauze before it. Gammon lifted it np; and Titmouse beheld a picture of a man suspended from the gallows, his hands tied with cords before him, his head forced aside, and covered down to the chin with a white nightcap. 'Twas done with sickening fidelity ; and Titmouse gazed at it with a shudder. " Charming thing, isn't it ?" said Gammon, with an expressive smile. " Y-e-e-s," replied Titmouse, his eyes glued to the horrid object. "Ahl very striking thing that— a'n't it?" quoth Quirk, bustling up to them ; " 'twas painted for me by a first-rate artist, whose brother I very nearly saved from the gallows! Idhe such things?" he inquired with a matter-of-fact air, drawing down the black gauze. " Yes, sir, uncommon — most uncommon 1" quoth Titmouse, shud- dering. " Well, I'll show you something most particularly interesting ! Heard of Gilderoy, that was hanged for forgery? Gad, my daughter's got a 240 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. brooch with a lock of his hair in it, which he gave me himself — a client of mine : within an ace of getting him off— flaw in the indictment — ^found it out myself — did, by gad! Come along, and I'll get Dora to show it to you !" and, putting Titmouse's arm in his, and desirous of with- drawing him from Gammon, he led him up to the interesting young lady. "Dora," said Mr. Quirk — "just show my friend Titmouse that brooch of yours, with GUderoy's hair." " Oh, my dear papa, 'tis such a melancholy thing !" said she, at the same time detaching it fiTjm her dress, and handing it to her papa, who, holding it in his hand, gave Titmouse, and one or two others who stood beside, an interesting account of the last hours of the deceased Gilderoy. " He was very handsome, papa, wasn't he ?" inquired Miss Quirk, with a sigh, and a pensive air. " Wasn't bad-looking ; but good looks and the condemned cell don't long agree together, I can tell you 1 Had many " " Ah, papa I" exclaimed Miss Quirk, in a mournful tone, and, leaning back in the sofa, raised her handkerchief to her eyes. "You are too sensitive, my level" whispered her aunt, Mrs. Alias, squeezing the hand of her niece, who, struggling against her feelings, pre- sently revived. " We were looking just now," said Mr. Hug, addressing Mr. Quirk, " at an interesting addition to Miss Quirk's splendid album — that letter of Grizzlegut." " Ah, very striking I Value it beyond everything I Shall never forget Grizzlegut I Very nearly got him off. 'Twas an ' &c.,' that nearly saved his Ufe, through being omitted in the indictment. 'Fore^ad, we thought we'd got 'em 1" They were alluding to an autograph letter which had been addressed to Mr. Quirk by Grizzlegut, who had been executed for high treason a few weeks before, the night before he suffered. He was a blood-stained scoun- drel of the deepest dye, and ought to have been hanged and quartered half- a-dozen times. "Will you read it aloud, Mr. Hug?" inquired Miss Quirk, with a deep sigh — and the barrister, with solemn emphasis, read the following remark- able document : " Condemned Ceii,, Newgatb, "Sunday night, half-past 11 o'clock, AprU 30, 18—. " SiK : — ^At this awftil moment, when this world is closing rapidly upon me and my fellow-sufferers, and the sounds of the wretches putting up the Grim Gallows are audible to my listening ears, and on the morrow the most horrible death that malicious tyrants can inflict awaits me, my soul being calm and flill of fortitude, and beating responsive to the call of Gloeiotis Libebtt, I feel prouder than the King upon his throne. I feel that I have done much to secure the liberties of my injured amntry, ' For Liberty, glorious Liberty, Who'd fear to die?' TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 241 Many thanks to you, sir, for your truly indefatigable efforts on my behalf, and the constant exercise of a skill that nearly secured us a Glorious Acquittal. What a Flame we would have raised in England ! That should have blasted the enemies of True Freedom. I go to Hereafter (if, indeed, there be a hereafter) as we shall soon know, not with my soul crammed with Priestcraft, but a Bold Briton, having laid down my life for my coun- try, knowing that Future Ages will do me Justice. " Adieu, Tyrants, adieu I Do your worst ! ! My soul defies you ! I ! " I am. Sir, " Your humble, obliged, and undismayed servant, "Aethtjr Geizzle&tjt. " To Caleb Quiek, Esq. " ' Tyrants grim Will, on the morrow, cut me limb from limb : — Wliile Liberty looks on with terrible eye, And says I will avenge him iy-and-bi/.' "Aethue Geizzlegut." The reading of the above produced a great sensation. "That man's name will be enrolled among the Sidneys and the Hampdens of his coun- try 1" said Viper, with a grim and excited air. " That letter deserves to be carved on a golden tablet I The last four lines are sublime I They are worthy of Milton I He was a. martyr to principles that are silently and rapidly making their way in this country I" How much farther he would have gone on in this strain, seeing no one present had resolution enough to differ with or interrupt him, even if they had been so disposed, I know not ; but fortunately dinner was announced^ — a sound which startled old Quirk out of a posture of intense attention to Viper, and evident admira- tion of his sentiments. He gave his arm with an air of prodigious polite- ness to the gaunt Mrs. Alderman Addlehead, whose distinguished lord led down Miss Quirk — and the rest followed in no particular order — Titmouse arm-in-arm with Gammon, who took care to place him next to himself (Gammon). It was really a dashing sort of dinner — such, indeed, as Mr. Quirk had long been celebrated for. Titmouse had never seen anything like it, and was quite bewildered — particularly at the number of differently shaped and colored glasses, &c., &c., &c., appropriated to his individual use. He kept a constant eye on the movements of Gammon, and did whatever he did (the two appearing moved by the same set of springs), and was thus saved not a few embarrassments and annoyances. What chiefly struck his attention was the prodigious number of dishes, great and small, as if a dozen dinners had been crowded into one ; the rapidity with which they were changed, and plates removed, in constant succession ; and the incessant invitations to take wine, flying about during the whole of dinner. For a considerable while he was too much flurried to enjoy him- self; but a few glasses of champagne succeeded in elevating his spirits to the proper pitch — and had he not been checked by Mr. Gammon, would soon have driven them far beyond it. Almost everybody, except the great folk at the very top of the table, asked him to take wine ; and on every such occasion he filled his glass. In fact, Gammon, recollecting a scene IG 242 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. at his own chamber, soon perceived that unless he interfered Titmouse would be drunk long before dinner was over. That gentleman had not imagined the earth to contain so exquisite a liquor as champagne ; and he could have fallen down and worshipped it, as it came £zzing and flashing out of the bottle. Gammon earnestly assured him that he would be ill if he drank so much — ^that many eyes were upon him — and that it was not the custom to do more than merely sip from his wine-glass when challeng- ing, or challenged, to take wine. But Titmouse had taken a considerably greater quantity on board, before Gammon thus interfered, than that gentleman was aware of, and began to get confident and voluble. Guess the progress he had made, when he called out boldly and loudly — " Mr. Alderman I Your health 1" — whether more to that great man's astonish- ment or disgust, I cannot undertake to say : but after a steady stare for a moment or two at Titmouse, "Oh I I shall be very happy, indeed, Mr. Oammon," he called out, looking at the latter gentleman, and drinking with Mm. That signified nothing, however, to Titmouse, who, indeed, did not see anything at all pointed or unusual, and nodding confidently to the alderman, gulped down his wine as eagerly as before. " Cool puppy that, Miss Quirk, must say," snuffled the ofihnded Alder- man to Miss Quirk. " He's young, dear Mr. Alderman," said she, sweetly and mildly ; " and when you consider the immense fortune he ia coming into — ten thousand a year, my papa says " "That don't make him less a puppy — nor a brute," interrupted the ruffled Alderman, still more indignant; for his own twenty thousand pounds, the source of all his social eminence, sunk into insignificance at the sound of the splendid income just about to drop into the lap of Tit- mouse. Mr. Bluster, who headed the table on Miss Quirk's left-hand side, and who felt that he ov,ght to be, but knew that in the presence of the Alderman he was not, the great man of the day, observing the irritation under which his rival was sufiering, resolved to augment it as much as possible: wherefore he immediately raised his threatening double-glasses to his eyes, and in a tone of ostentatious condescension, looking down the table to Titmouse, called out, "Mr. Titmash, may I have the honor of drinking wine with you ?" " Ya-as, brother Bumptious," replied Titmouse, who could never bear to hear his name mispronounced, and raised his glass to his eye; "was just going to ask you /" All this was done in sueh a loud and impudent tone and manner as made Gammon still more uneasy for his young com- panion. But his sally had been received by the company as a smart retort, and produced a roar of laughter, every one being glad to see Mr. Bluster snubbed, who bore it in silent dignity, though his face showed his chagrin and astonishment ; and he heartily agreed, for once in his life, with the worshipful person opposite him, in his estimate of our friend Titmouse. "Mr. Titmouse! Mr. Titmouse! my daughter wonders yon won't take wine with her," said Mr. Quirk in a low tone — " will you join us ? we're going to take a glass of champagne." " Oh ! 'pon my life — delighted" — quoth Titmouse. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 243 " Dora, my dear I Mr. Titmouse will take wine with you I Jack," (to the servant), " fill Miss Quirk's and Mr. Titmouse's glasses to the brim." " Oh no I dearest papa gracious !" she exclaimed, removing her glass. " Pho I pho ! — nonsense — the first time of asking, you know, ah, ha 1" " Well I If it must be," and with what a graceful inclination — ^with what a sly searching glance, and fascinating smile, did she exchange courtesies with Titmouse! He felt disposed to take wine with her a second time immediately ; but Gammon restrained him. Mr. Toady Hug, having be- come acquainted with the brilliant prospects of Titmouse, earnestly desired to exert his little talents to do what was agreeable, and ingratiate himself with Mr. Titmouse ; but there was a counteracting force in another direc- tion, — ^viz., the attorney, Mr. Flaw, who had the greatest practice at the Clerkenwell sessions, and sat beside him, receiving his most respectful and incessant attentions; Hug speaking ever to him in a low confidential whisper, constantly casting the while a furti-ve glance towards Bluster and Slang, to see whether they were observing him. In "strict confidence" he assured Mr. Flaw how his case, the other day, might have been won, if such and such a course had been adopted, " which would have been the line Ae" (Hug) "would have taken ;" and which he explained with anxious energy. "I must say (but don't mention it!) that Mr. Flip regularly threw the case away — no doubt of it I By the way, what became of that burglary case of yours, on Friday, Mr. Flaw? Uncommonly interesting case !" " Found guilty, poor fellows I" " You don't say so !" " Fact, by Jove, though I" " How could Mr. Gobble have lost that verdict ? I assure you I would have bet ten to one on your getting a verdict ; for I read over your brief as it lay beside me, and upon my honor, Mr. Flaw, it was most admirably got up. Everything depends on the brief " " Glad you thought so, sir," replied Flaw, wondering how it was that he had never before thought of giving a brief to Mr. Hug. " It's a great mistake of counsel," quoth Hug, earnestly, " not to pay the utmost attention to their briefs 1 For my part," he continued, in a lower tone, " I make a point of reading every syllable in my brief, however long it is I" " It's the only way, depend on it, sir. We attorneys, you know, see and know so much of the case, conversing confidentially with the prisoners " "Ay, and beyond that — ^your practical suggestions, my dear sir, are often Now, for instance, in the brief I was alluding to, there was, I recollect — one most — uncommonly acute suggestion " " Sir, you're particularly flattering ! Am vely much obliged to you, in- deed I May I ask what it was that struck you ?" inquired the attorney briskly, his countenance showing the progress of Hug's lubricating process. " Oh — why — a-a-hem !" stammered Hug, somewhat nonplussed — for his little fiction had been accepted as a fact. " No ; it would hardly be fair to Gobble, and I'm sorry indeed " " Well, well — it can't be helped now — but I must say that once or twice 244 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. latterly I've thought, myself, that Mr. Gobble has rather By the way, Mr. Hug, shall you be in town this week, till the end of the sessions?" "Y-e-sl" hastily whispered Hug, after glancing guiltily towards his brethren, who, though they did not seem to do so, were really watching him with ill-subdued fury. " I'm happy to hear it 1 You've heard of Aaron Doodle, who was com- mitted for that burglary at ? Well, I defend him, and shall be happy to give you the brief. Do you lead Mr. Dolt ?" Hug nodded. " Then he will be your junior. Where are your chambers, Mr. Hug ?" "No. 4, Cant Court, Gray's Inn. When, my dear sir, does the case come on ?" " Thursday — perhaps Wednesday." "Then do come and breakfast with me," quoth Hug, in a whisper; " and we can talk it over, you know, so nicely together !" "Sir, you're very polite. I will do myself the pleasure,'' replied Mr. Flaw, and good-naturedly took wine with Mr. Hug. This little stroke of business over, the disengaged couple were at liberty to attend to the general conversation of the table. Mr. Bluster and Mr. Slang kept the company in almost a constant roar, with descriptions of scenes in court, in which they had, of course, been the principal actors ; and according to their own accounts they must have been wonderftil fellows. Such botherei-s of judges^particularly aldermen and police magistrates! Such bafflers and browbeaters of witnesses! Such bam- boozlers of juries I You should have seen the sneering countenance of Hug all the while. He never once smiled or laughed at the brilliant sallies of his brethren, and did his best to prevent his new patron, Mr. Flaw, from doing so, con- stantly putting his hand before his mouth, and whispering into Mr. Flaw's ear at the very point of the joke or story, and the smile would disappear from the countenance of Mr. Flaw. The Alderman laughed till the tears ran out of his little eyes, which he constantly wipea with his napkin. Amidst the general laughter and ex- citement, Miss Quirk, leaning her chin on her hand, her elbow resting on the table, several times directed soft, languishing looks towards Titmouse, unobserved by any one but himself; and they were not entirely unsuc- cessful, although Titmouse was wonderfully taken with the stories of the two counsellors, and believed them to be two of the greatest men he had ever seen or heard of, and at the head of their profession. " 'Pon my soul, I hope, sir, you'll have those two gents in my case,'' said he earnestly to Gammon. " Unfortunately, your case will not come on in their courts," said Gam- mon, with an expressive smile. " Why, can't it come on where I choose? — or when you like?" inquired Titmouse, surprisedly. Mr. Quirk had been soured during the whole of dinner, for he had anx- iously desired to have Titmouse sit beside him at the bottom of the table; but in the little hubbub attendant upon coming down to dinner and taking places, Titmouse slipped out of sight for a minute ; and when all were TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 245 placed, Quirk's enraged eye perceiyed tim seated in the middle of the table, beside Gammon. Gammon always got hold of Titmouse 1 Old Quirk could have flung a decanter at his head. In his own house 1 — at his own table ! — always anticipating and circumventing him. " Mr. Quirk, I don't think we've taken a glass of wine together yet, have we ?" said Gammon, blandly and cordially, at the same time pouring one out for himself. He perfectly weU knew what was annoying his respected partner, whose look of quaint embarrassment, when so suddenly assailed, infinitely amused him. " Catch me asking you here again. Master Gam- mon," thought Quirk, " with Titmouse 1" The reason why Mr. Snap had not been asked was, that Quirk had some slight cause to suspect his having presumptuously conceived the notion of paying his addresses to Miss Quirk — a thing at any time not particularly palatable to Mr. Quirk, but in the present conjuncture of circumstances quite out of the question, and in- tolerable even in idea. Snap was not slow in guessing the reason of his exclusion, which had greatly mortified and also not a little alarmed him. As far as he could venture, he had during the week endeavored to " set" Titmouse " against" Miss Quirk, by such faint disparaging remarks and insinuations as he dared venture upon with so difficult a subject as Titmouse, whom he at the same time inflamed by representations of the splendid match he might very soon command among the highest women of the land. By these means Snap had to a certain extent succeeded ; but the few melting glances which had fallen upon Titmouse's sensitive bosom from the eyes of Miss Quirk were beginning to operate a slight change in his feelings. The old Alderman, on an intimation that the " ladies were going to withdraw," laid violent hands on Miss Quirk. He was a " privi- leged" old fool, and insisted on her singing his favorite song — "My Friend aiid Pitcher !" His request was so warmly seconded by the rest of the company — Titmouse loud and eager as any — ^that she was fain to comply. She sang with some sweetness and much self-possession, and carried Tit- mouse's feelings along with her from the beginning, as Gammon, who was watching him, perceived. " Most uncommon lovely gal, isn't she ?" whispered Titmouse, with great vivacity. ''Very I" replied Gammon, dryly, with a slight smile. "Shall I call out encore f A'n't that the word? 'Pon my soul, most lovely gal ! She must sing it again." " No, no— she wishes to go ; 'tis not usual. She will sing it for you, I daresay, this evening, if you ask her." " Well — most charming girl 1 — lovely !" "Have patience, my dear Titmouse," said Gammon, in a low whisper ; "in a few months' time you'll soon be thrown into much higher life tlian even this — among rmlly beautiful, and rich, and accomplished women." [And, thought Gammon, you'll resemble a monkey that has found his way into a rich tulip-bed I] " Fancy that girl Tag-rag standing beside Miss Quirk !" whispered Tit- mouse, scomftiUy. " Ha, ha !" gently laughed Gammon—" both of them, in their way, are 246 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. very wortiy persons; but " Here the ladies withdrew. It was no part of Gammon's schemes that Titmouse should become the son-in-law of either Quirk or Tag-rag. Mr. Gammon had already formed vastly diffe- rent plans for him I As soon as Quirk had taken the head of the table, and the gentlemen drawn together, the bottles were pushed round briskly, accompanied by no fewer than three different sorts of snuff-boxes, all belonging to Mr. Quirk — all of them presents from grateful Old Bailey clients ! One was a huge affair, of Botany Bay wood, with a flaming inscription on the inside of the lid, from which it appeared that its amiable donors, who were trying the efiect of a change of climate on their moral health at the expense of a gr£|,teful country, owed their valuable lives to the professional skill and exertions of Caleb Quirk, Esq. In short, the other two were trophies of a similar description, of which their possessor was justly not a little proud ; and as he saw Titmouse admiring them, it occurred to him as possible that within a short time he should be in possession of a magnificent gold snuff- box, in acknowledgment of the services he should have rendered to his distinguished guest and client. Titmouse was in the highest spirits. This his first glimpse into high life equalled all his expectations. Kound and round went the bottles — crack went joke after joke. Slang sung song upon song, o^ however, so very coarse and broad a character as i nfini tely dis- gusted Gammon, and apparently shocked the Alderman, — ^though I greatly distrust that old sinner's sincerity in the matter. Then Ghastly's perform- ances commenced. Poor fellow I he exerted himself to the utmost to earn the good dinner which he had just devoured ; but when he was in the middle of one of his most impassioned scenes, — ^undoubtedly "tearing a passion to rags," — Mr. Quirk interrupted, impatiently : " Come, come, Ghastly, we've had enough of that sort of thing — ^it don't suit — d'ye see — at all 1 Lord bless us ! — don't roar so, man 1" Poor Ghastly instantly resumed his seat, with a chagrined and melan- choly air. " Give us something funny," snuffled the Alderman. " Let's have the chorus of Pigs and Ducks," said Quirk ; " you do that remarkaile well. I could fancy the aiiimals were running, and squealing, and quacking all about the room !" The actor respectfully did as he was desired, commencing with a sigh, and was much applauded. At length Gammon happened to get into a discussion with Mr. Bluster upon some point connected with the Habeas Corpus Act, in which our Mend Gam- mon, who never got heated in discussion, and was accurate in whatever he knew, had glaringly the best of it. His smiling self-possession almost drove poor Bluster frantic. The less he knew, of course the louder he talked — the more vehement and positive he became ; at length, offering a bet that there was no such thing as a writ of Habeas Corpus before the time of Charles II. (see App.), at which Gammon bowed, smiled, and closed the discussion. While engaged in it, he had of course been unable to keep his eye upon Titmouse, who drank, consequently, claret, port, sherry, and Madeira eagerly, never letting the decanter pass him. Every one about him filled his glass every time — why should not he ? TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. 247 Hug sat next to Viper ; feared him, and avoided discussion with him ; for, though they agreed in the lowest radical politics, they had a personal antipathy each to the other. In spite of their wishes, they at length got entangled in a virulent controversy, and said so many insulting things to each other, that the rest of the company, who had for some time been amused, got at length — not disgusted, but alarmed for the possible results, fully expecting the exchange of a brace of wine-glasses against each other's heads. Mr. Quirk, therefore, interfered. " Bravo 1 bravo 1 bravo 1" he exclaimed, as Viper concluded an enven- omed passage, " that will do. Viper, whip it in the next Flash ; 'twiU be a capital leader ! It will produce a sensation 1 And in the meantime, gen- tlemen, let me request you to fill your glasses — ^bumpers — for I have a toast to propose, in which you'll all feel interested when you hear who's the sub- ject of it. It is a gentleman who is likely soon to be elevated to a station which Nature has formed him — hem ! hem ! — to adorn" — " Mr. Quirk's proposing your health. Titmouse !" whispered Gammon to his companion, who, having been suspiciously restless for some time, had at length become quite silent, his head resting on his hand, his elbow on the table, his eyes languidly half open, and his face exceedingly pale. Gammon saw that he was, in truth, in an exceedingly ticklish condition. "1 — ^wish— you'd — let me — go out — I'm devilish ill" — said Titmouse, faintly. Gammon made a signal to Quirk, who instantly ceased his speech ; and coming down to Titmouse, he and Gammon hastily led that gentleman out of the room, and into the nearest bed-chamber, where he began to be very ill indeed, and so continued for several hours. Old Quirk, who was a long-headed man, was delighted by this occurrence ; for he saw that if he insisted on Titmouse's being put to bed, and passing the night — and per- haps the next day — at Alibi House, it would enable Miss Quirk to bring her attractions to bear upon him effectively, by exhibiting those delicate and endearing attentions which are so soothing, and indeed necessary; to an invalid. Titmouse continued desperately indisposed during the whole of the night ; and early in the morning it was thought advisable to send for a medical man, who pronounced him to be in danger of a bilious fever, and to require rest, care, and medicsll attendance for some days to come. This was rather " too much of a good thing" for old Quirk — but there was no remedy. GHAPTEE IX. TITMOUSE SEEMS TO HESITATE BETVTEEN MISS QUIKK AND KATE ATJBREY; MOBBOVEB, a CLOTTD combs suddenly OVEE his FOB- TUNES. FORESEEING that Titmouse would be thrown constantly, for some little time to come, into Miss Quirk's company, her prudent parent enjoined upon Mrs. Alias, his sister, the necessity of impressing on his 248 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. daughter's mind the great uncertainty which, after all, existed as to Tit- mouse's prospects, and the consequent necessity there was for her to regu- late her affections with a view to either failure or success — to keep her feelings, as it were, in abeyance. But the fact was that Miss Quirk had so often heard the subject of Titmouse's brilliant expectations talked of by her father, and knew so well his habitual prudence and caution, that she looked upon Titmouse's speedy possession of ten thousand a year as a matter of almost certainty. She was a girl of some natural shrewdness, but of an early inclination to maudlin sentimentality. Had she been blessed with the vigilant and affectionate care of a mother as she grew up (that parent having died when Miss Quirk was but a child), and been thrown among people different from those who constantly visited at Alibi House, and of whom a favorable specimen has been laid before the reader. Miss Quirk might really have become a sensible and agreeable girl. As it was, her manners had contracted a certain coarseness, which at length overspread her whole character ; and the selfish and mercenary motives by which she could not fail to perceive all her father's conduct regulated, gradually infected herself. She resolved, therefore, to be governed by the considera- tions so urgently pressed upon her by both her father and her aunt. It was several days before Titmouse was allowed, by his medical man, to quit his bedroom ; and it is impossible for any woman not to be touched by the sight of a sudden change effected in a man's appearance by severe indisposition and suffering — even be that man such a creature as Titmouse. He was pale, and considerably reduced by the serious nature of the attack, and of the powerful treatment with which it had been encountered. When he made his first appearance before Miss Quirk, one afternoon, with some- what feeble gait, and a languid air which mitigated, if it did not obliterate, the foolish and conceited expression of his features, she really regarded him with something akin to interest; and, though she might hardly have owned it to even herself, his expected good fortune invested him with a sort of subdued radiance. Ten thousand a year J — Miss Quirk's heart flut- tered ! By the time that he was well enough to take his departure, she had, at his request, read over to him nearly half of that truly interesting work — the Newgate Calendar ; had sung to him, and played to him, what- ever he asked her ; and, in short, she felt iliat could she but be certain that he would gain his great lawsuit, and step into ten thousand a year, she could love him. She insisted, on the day of his quitting Alibi House, that he should write in her album ; and he readily complied. It was nearly ten minutes before he could get a pen to suit him. At length he succeeded, and left the following interesting memento of himself in the very centre of a fresh page: — Tittlebat Titmouse Is My name, England Is My Nation, London Is My dwelling-i?lace, And Clirist Is My Salvation. Tittlebat Titmouse, halibi lodge. Miss Quirk turned pale with astonishment and vexation on seeing this elegant and striking addition to her album. Titmouse, on the contrary, TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. 249 looked at it with no little pride ; for having had a capital pen, and his heart being in his task, he had produced what he conceived to be rather a superior specimen of penmanship ; in fact, the signature was by far the best he had ever written. When he had gone. Miss Quirk was twenty times on the point of tearing out the leaf which had been so dismally dis- figvu:ed; but on her father coming home in the evening, he laughed heartUy — " and as to tearing it out," said he, " let us first see which way the verdict goes !" Titmouse became, after this, a pretty frequent visitor at Alibi House ; growing more and more attached to Miss Quirk, who, however, conducted herself towards him with much judgment. His inscription on her album had done a vast deal towards cooling down the ardor with which she had been disposed to regard even the future owner of ten thousand a year. Poor Snap seemed to have lost aU chance, being treated with greater coldness by Miss Quirk on every succeeding visit to Alibi House. At this he was sorely discomfited ; for she would have whatever money her father might die possessed of, besides a commanding interest in the partnership business. 'Twas a diificult thing for him to preserve his temper under such circum- stances, in his close intimacy with Titmouse, who had, though uncon- sciously, so grievously interfered with his prospects. The indisposition which I have been mentioning prevented Titmouse from paying his promised visit to Satin Lodge. On returning to his lodg- ings from Alibi House, he found that Tag-rag had either called or sent every day to inquire after him, with the most afiectionate anxiety ; and one or two notes, lying on his table, apprised him of the lively distress which the ladies of Satin Lodge were enduring on his account, and implored him to lose not a moment in communicating the state of his health, and per- sonally assuring them of his safety. Though the image of Miss Quirk was continually before his eyes. Titmouse, nevertheless, had cunning enough not to drop the slightest hint to the Tag-rags of the true state of his feelings. Whenever any inquiry, with ill-disguised anxiety, was made by Mrs. Tag- rag concerning Alibi House and its inmates. Titmouse would, to be sure, mention Miss Quirk, but in such a careless and slighting way as gave great consolation and encouragement to Tag-rag, his wife, and daughter. " Miss Quirk," he said, " was well enough — ^but devilish fat !" When at Mr. Quirk's, on the other hand, he spoke somewhat unreservedly of the amiable inmates of Satin Lodge. These two mansions were almost the only private residences visited by Titmouse, who spent his time much in the way which I have already described. How he got through his dmja, I can hardly tell. At his lodgings he got up late, and went to bed late. He never read any- thing excepting occasionally a song-book lentTiim by Snap, or a low novel, or some such book as " Boxiana," from the circulating library, and the Sunday Flash. Dawdling over his dress and his breakfast, then whistling and humming, and looking out of the window, took up so much of every day as he passed at his lodgings. The rest was spent in idling about the town, looking in at shop windows, and now and then going to some petty exhibition— as of sparring, cock-fighting, &c. When evening came, he was generally joined by Snap, when they would spend the night together 250 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. in the manner I have already described. As often as he dared, he called at Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap's office at Saffron Hill, worrying them not a little by inquiries concerning the state of his affairs, and the cause of the delay in commencing proceedings. As for Huckaback, by the way, Titmouse cut him entirely, saying that he was a devilish low fellow, and it was no use knowing him. He made many desperate efforts, both per- sonally and by letter, to renew his acquaintance with Titmouse, but in v^in^. I may as well mention, by the way, that as soon as Snap got scent of the little money transaction between his friend and Huckaback, he called upon the latter, and tendering him twelve shillings, demanded up the document which he had extorted from Titmouse. Huckaback held out obstinately for some time — ^but Snap was too much for him, and talked in such a fpr- midable strain about an indictment for a conspiracy (!) and fraud, that Huckaback at length consented, on receiving twelve shillings, to deliver up the document to Snap, on condition of Snap's destroying it on the spot. This was done, and so ended all intercourse — at least on this side of the grave — ^between Titmouse, as far, at least, as his intentions went, and Huckaback, The sum allowed by Messrs. Quirk and Ganunon to Titmouse, was amply sufficient to have kept bim in comfort ; but it never would have enabled him to lead the kind of life which I have described — ^and he would certainly have got awkwardly involved, had it not been for the kindness of Snap in advancing him, from time to time, such sums as his exigencies required. In fact, matters went on as quietly and smoothly as possible. for several months — till about the middle of November, when aji event, occurred which seemed to threaten the total demolition of all his brilliant hopes and expectations. He had not seen or heard from Messrs. Quirk or Gammon for nearly a fortnight ; Snap he had not seen for nearly a week. At length he ventured to make his appearance at Saffron Hill, and was received with a startling coldness — a stern abruptness of manner— which frightened him out of his wits. All the three partners were alike — as for Snap, the contrast between his present and his former manner was perfectiy shocking; he seemed quite another person. The fact was, that the full statement of Titmouse's claims had been laid before Mr. Subtle, the leading counsel retained on his behalf, for an opinion on the case generally, before actually commencing pro- ceedings ; and the partners were indeed thunderstruck on receiving that opinion ; for Mr. Subtle had pointed out a radical deficiency of proof in a matter which, as soon as their attention was thus pointedly called to it, Messrs. Quirk and Gammon were amazed at their having overlooked, and still more at its having escaped the notice of Mr. Tresayle, Mr. Mortmain, and Mr. Frankpledge. Mr. Quirk hurried with tiie opinion to the first two of these gentlemen ; and after a long interview with each, they owned their fears that Mr. Subtle was right, and that the defect seemed incurable; but they somewhat anxiously impressed on their dismayed client that they, the aforesaid Messrs. Tresayle and Mortmain, had been guilty of neitiier oversight nor ignorance, inasmuch as the matter in question was one of eindemce only — one which a rmi prius lawyer, with a fiiU detail of " proofe" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 251 before him, could hardly fail to light upon — but which, it would be found, had been asswmed, and taken for granted, in the cases laid before convey- ancers. They promised, however, to turn it over in their minds, and to let Mr. Quirk know if anything occurred to vary their impression. A week elapsed, however, and Mr. Tresayle and Mr. Mortmain preserved an ominous silence. As for Frankpledge, he had a knack, somehow or an- other, of always coming to the conclusion wished and hoped for by his cUeuts ; and, after prodigious pains, he wrote a long opinion, to show that there was nothing in the objection. Neither Mr. Quirk nor Mr. Gammon could understand the process by which Mr. Frankpledge had arrived at such a result ; but, in despair, they laid his opinion before Mr. Subtle, in the shape of a further " Case for his Opinion." It was in a few days' time returned to them, with the following somewhat laconic " Opinion :" "I see no reason whatever to depart from the view I have already taken of this case. — J. S." Here was something like a dead lock, indeed 1 "We're done, Gammon I" said Quirk, with a dismayed air. Gammon seemed lost, and made no answer. " Does anything — eh ?" quoth Quirk, with a troubled air. "^rat/thing occur to you ? Gammon, I will say this for you — ^you're a long-headed fellow !" Still Gammon spoke not. "Gammon! Gammon! I really believe — ah? — ^you — ^you — ^begin to see something — don't you ?" "li^s to be DONE, Mr. Quirk !" said Gammon at length, with a grave and apprehensive look, and a cheek which had suddenly grown pale. " Eh ? how ? Oh, I see 1 Know what you mean, Gammon," replied Quirk, with a hurried whisper, glancing at both doors to see that they were safe. " We must resume our intercourse with Titmouse, and let matters go on as before," said Gammon, with an anxious, but, at the same time, a de- termined air. "I — I wonder if what has occurred to ym, is what has occurred to me?" inquired Quirk, in an eager whisper. "Pooh! pooh! Mr. Quirk." "Gammon, dear Gammon, no mystery! You know I have a terrible deep stake iu this matter !" "So have I, Mr. Quirk," replied Gammon, with a sigh. "However'' — Here the partners put their heads close together, and whispered to each other in a low, earnest tone, for some minutes. Quirk rose from his seat, and took two or three turns about the room in silence. Gammon watching him calmly. To his inexpressible relief and joy, within a few hours of the happening of the above colloquy. Titmouse found himself placed on precisely his former footing with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap. In order to bring on the cause for trial at the next spring assizes, it was necessary that the declaration in ejectment should be served on the tenant in possession before Hilary term ; and, in a matter of such magnitude, it was deemed expedient that Snap should proceed to Yorkshire, and person- 252 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. ally effect the service in question. In consequence, also, of some important suggestions as to the evidence, given by the junior in the cause, Mr. Lynx, it was arranged that Snap should go down about a week before the time fixed upon for effecting the service, and make quietly certain minute in- quiries in the neighborhood of Yatton. As soon as Titmouse had heard of this movement — ^that Snap was going direct to Yatton, the scene of his (Titmouse's) future greatness — he made the most pertinacious and vehement entreaties to Messrs. Quirk and Gammon to be allowed to accompany him, even going down on his knees. There was no resisting this ; but they ex- acted a solemn pledge that he would place himself entirely at the disposal of Mr. Snap ; go under some feigned name, and, in short, neither say nor do anything tending to disclose their real character or errand. Snap and Titmouse established themselves at the Hare and Hounds Inn at Grilston ; and the former immediately began, cautiously and quietly, to collect such evidence as he could discover. One of the first persons to whom be went was old Blind Bess. His many pressing questions at length stirred up in the old woman's mind faint confused recollections of long- forgotten names, persons, places, scenes and associations, thereby producing an agitation not easily to be got rid of, and which had by no means sub- sided when Dr. Tatham and Mr. Aubrey paid her the Christmas-day visit, which has been described. The reader has had, already, pretty distinct indications of the manner in which Titmouse and Snap conducted themselves during their stay at York- shire, and which, I fear, have not tended to raise either of these gentle- men in our estimation. Titmouse manifested a natural anxiety to see the present occupants of Yatton ; and it was with infinite difficulty that Snap could prevent him from sneaking about in tlie immediate neighborhood of the Hall, with the hope of seeing them. His first encounter with Mr. and Miss Aubrey was entirely accidental, as the reader may remember ; and when he found that the lady on horseback near Yatton and the lady whose notice he had striven to attract in Hyde Park were one and the same beautiful woman, and that that beautiful woman was neither more nor less than the sister of the present owner of Yatton — 'the marvellous discovery created a mighty pother in his little bosom I The blaze of Kate Aubrey's beauty in an instant consumed the images both of Tabitha Tag-rag and Dora Quirk. It even for a while outshone, the splendors of ten thousand a year : such is the inexpressible and incalculable power of woman's beauty over everything in the shape of man — over even so despicable a sample of him as Tittlebat Titmouse. While putting in practice some of those abominable tricks to which, under Snap's tutelage. Titmouse had become accustomed in walking the streets of London, and from which even the rough handling they had got from farmer Hazel could not turn him. Titmouse at length, as has been seen, most imwittingly fell foul of that fair creature, Catherine Aubrey herself; who seemed truly like an angelic messenger, returning from her errand of sympathy and mercy, and suddenly beset by a little imp of dark- ness. When Titmouse discovered who was the object of his audacious and revolting advances, his soul, such as it was, seemed petrified within him ; TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 253 and it was fortunate that the shriek of Miss Aubrey's attendant at length startled him into a recollection of a pair of heels, to which he was that evening indebted for an escape from a murderous cudgeling, which might have been attended with one efiect not contemplated by him who inflicted it, so profoundly in the dark are we as to the causes and consequences of human actions ; via., the retention of the Aubreys in the possession of Yatton ! Titmouse ran for nearly half a mile on the high-road towards Gfrilston, without stopping. He dared not venture to return to Tattou, with the sound of the lusty farmer's voice in his ears, to get back from the Aubrey Arms the horse which had brought him that afternoon from Gril- ston, to which place, therefore, he walked on, through the snow and dark- ness, reaching his inn in a perfect panic, from which, at length, a tumbler of stiff brandy-and-water, with two or three cigars, somewhat relieved him. Forgetftd of the solemn pledge which he had given to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, not to disclose his name or errand — and it never once occurring to him that, if he would but keep his own counsel. Miss Aubrey could never identify him, with the ruffian who had assailed her — Titmouse spent the interval between eight and twelve o'clock, at which latter hour the coach by which he had resolved to return to London would pass through Grilston, in inditing the following letter to Miss Aubrey: — " GErLSTON, January Uh, 18 — . "HosroTjRED Miss: — ^Hoping No Offence "Will Be Taken where None is meant, (which am Sure of), This I send To say Who I Am which, Is the Eight And True Owner of Yatton which You Enjoy Amongst You All At This present (TiU The Law Give it to Me) Which It quickly Will, and No Mistake, And which It Ought to Have done When I were First bom And Before Y' Eespect". Family ever Came into it. And All which Y' hon*. Brother Have so unlawfully Got Possession Of must Come Back to Them Whose Due It is w"" Is myself as will be Soon prov*. And w"" am most truly Sorry Of ore your own Acei. (Meaning (hon*. Miss) you Alone) as Sure As Yatton is IntLrely Mine So My Heart Is yours and No Longer my Own Ever since I Saw You first as Can Easily prove but w' doubtless You Have forgot Seeing You Never New, because (as Mr Gammon My SolUciter And a Very Great Lawyer, says) Oases Alter Oircumstances, what Can I say More Than that I Love you Most Amasing Such As Never Thought Myself Capable of Doing Before and w"" cannot help Ever Since I First saw your most Lovely and Divine and striking Pace w"" have Stuck In my Mind Ever Since Day and Night Sleeping and Waking I will Take my Oath Never Of Having Lov'd Any one Else, Though (must Say) have Had a Wonderful Many Offers From Females of The Highest Bank Since my Truely Wonderful Good fortune got Talked About every Where but have Refused Them All for y' sake, And Would All the World But you. When I Saw You on Horseback It was All my Sudden confusion In See- ing you (The Other Gent, was One of my Eesp^ Solicitors) w"" Threw Me Off in that Bidiculous Way w"" was a Great Mortification And made My brute Of A horse go on so. For I Remembered You and was Wonderful struck with Tour Impraifd Appearamce (As that Same Gent, can Testify) 254 TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. And yon was (Hon*. Miss) Quite Wrong To Night when You Spoke so ^ Uncommon Angry To Me, seeing If I Had Only Known What Female It Was (meaning yourself which I respect So) out so Late Alone I should Have spoke quite Different So hope You Will think Nothing More Of that Truely Unpleasant Event Now (Hon*. Madam) What I have to say Is if You will Please to Condescend To Yield To My Desire We Can Live Most uncommon Comfortable at Yatton Together w"* Place shall Have Great Pleasure (if you please) in Marrying you From and I may {perhaps) Do Something Handsome for y'. respectable Brother and Family, w' can Often Come to see us And Live in the Neighbourhood, if You Eefuse me, Will not say What shall Happen to Those which (am Told) Owe me a Pre- cious Long Mgwe w"" May {perhaps) Make a Handsome Abatement in, if You And I Hit it. "Hoping You WiU Forget What Have So Much Griev''. me, And Write p'. return of Post, "Am, hon* Miss, " Y'. most loving & Devoted Servant " (Till Death) "Tittlebat Titmouse. " PAHTiCTTiiAB Private." This exquisitely constructed document its accomplished writer sealed twice, and then left, together with sixpence, in the hands of the landlady of the Hare and Hounds, to be delivered at Yatton Hall the first thing in the morning. The good woman, however — having no particular wish to oblige such a strange puppy, whom she was only too glad to get rid of, and having, moreover, a good deal to attend to — laid the letter aside on the chimney-piece, and entirely lost sight of it for nearly a fortnight. Shortly after the lamentable tidings concerning the impending misfortunes of the Aubrey family had been communicated to the inhabitants of Grilston, she forwarded the letter, little dreaming of the character in which its writer was likely, ere long, to reappear at Grilston, together with one or two others, a day or two after Miss Aubrey had had the interview with her brother which I have described to the reader ; but it lay unnoticed by any one — above all, by the sweet sufferer whose name was indicated on it — among a great number of miscellaneous letters and papers which had Ijeen suffered to accumulate on the library table. CHAPTER X. sueeering; dignity; tenderness; eesignation. ME. AUBREY entered the library one morning, alone, for the purpose of attending to many matters which had been long neglected. He was evidently thinner; his face was pale, and his manner dejected; still there was about him an air of calmness and resolution. Through the TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 255 richly-pictured old stained-glass window, the mottled sunbeams were streaming in a kind of tender radiance upon the dear familiar objects around him. All was silent. Having drawn his chair to the table, on which was lying a confused heap of letters and papers, he felt a momentary repugnance to enter upon the task which he had assigned to himself; and rose and walked slowly for some time up and down the room, with folded arms, uttering occasionally profound sighs. At length he resumed his seat, and commenced the disheartening task of opening the many letters before hiin. One of the earliest that came to his hand was from Peter Johnson — the old tenant to whom he had lent the sum»of two hundred pounds, and it was full of fervent expressions of gratitude and respect : Mr. Aubrey's heart ached as he read them. Then came a letter, a fort- night old, bearing the frank of Lord C , the Secretary of State for For- eign Affairs. He opened it and read : — "Whitehall, January 16, 18 — . " My Deae Atjbeey : — You will remember that Lord 's motion stands for the 28th. We all venture to calculate upon receiving your powerful support in the debate. "We expect to be much pressed with the Duke of 's affair, which you handled shortly before the recess with such signal ability and success. When you return to town, you must expect a renewal of certain offers, which 1 most sincerely trust, for the benefit of the public service, will not be aciain declined. " Ever yours faithfully, " (Private and confidential.) " C . " Charles Aubeey, Esq., M.P." Mr. Aubrey laid down the letter calmly, but with a heavy sigh, as soon as he had read it ; and leaning back in his chair, seemed lost in thought for several minutes. Presently he reapplied himself to his task, and opened and glanced over a great many letters, the contents of several of them occasioning him deep emotion. Some were from persons in distress whom he had assisted, and who implored a continuance of his aid ; others were from ardent political friends — some sanguine, others desponding — con- cerning the prospects of the session. Two or three hinted that it was everywhere reported that he had been offered one of the under secretary- ships, and had declined ; but that, at the king's desire, ofB.ce was to be pressed upon him. Many letters were on private, and still more on county business ; and with one of them he was engaged when a servant entered, with one of that morning's county newspapers. Tired with his task, Mr. Aubrey rose from his chair as the servant gave him the paper ; and stand- ing before the fire, unfolded the YorhsMre Stingo, and glanced listlessly over its miscellaneous contents. At length his eye lit upon the following paragraph : — " The rumors so deeply affecting a member for a certain borough in this county, and to which we alluded in our last paper but one, turn out to be well founded. A claimant has started up to the very large estates at pre- sent held by the gentleman in question ; and we are much misinformed if the ensuing spring assizes will not effect a considerable change in the re- presentation of the borough alluded to, by relieving it from the Tory thral- 256 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. dom under which it has been so long oppressed. We have no wish to bear hard upon a falling man ; and, therefore, shall make no comment upon the state of mind in which that person may be presumed to be who must be conscious of having been so long enjoying the just rights of others. Some extraordinary disclosures may be looked for when the trial comes on. We have heard from a quarter on which we are disposed to. place reliance that the claimant is a gentleman of decided Wiig principles, and who will prove a valuable accession to the Liberal cause."* Mr. Aubrey was certainly somewhat shocked by brutality such as this ; but on Miss Aubrey's entering the room, he quietly folded up the paper and laid it aside, fearful lest his sister's feelings should be pierced by the coarse and cruel paragraph which it contained. It had, in fact, been con- cocted in London, in the office of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, who were, as before stated, interested in the Sunday Flash, which was in some sort connected, through the relationship of the editors, with the Yorkshire Stingo. The idea had been suggested by Gammon, by way of attempting to enlist the politieal feeling of a portion of the county in favor of their client. " Here are several letters for you, Kate," said her brother, picking out one or two of them. The very first she took up, it having attracted her attention by the double seal, and the vulgar style of the handwriting, was that from Titmouse, which has just been laid before the reader. With much surprise she opened the letter, her brother being similarly engaged with his own ; and her face getting gradually paler and paler as she went on, at length she flung it on the floor with a passionate air, and burst into tears. Her brother, with astonishment, exclaimed, " Dear Kate, what is it ?" and he rose and stooped to pick up the letter. " Don't — don't, Charles !" she cried, putting her foot upon it, and fling- ing her arms round his neck. " It is an audacious letter — a vulgar, a cruel letter, dear Charles !" Her emotion increased as her thoughts recurred to the heartless paragraph concerning her brother with which the letter con- cluded. " I could have overlooked everything but that," said she, imwit^ tingly. With gentle force he succeeded in getting hold of the painfully ridiculous and contemptible efiusion. He attempted faintly to smile seve- ral times as he went on. " Don't — don't, dearest Charles 1" said she, passionately. " I can't bear it. Don't smUe !— it's very far from your heart j you do it only to assure me." Here Mr. Aubrey read the paragraph concerning himself. His face turned a little paler than before, and his lips quivered with suppressed emotion. " He is evidently a very foolish fellow !" he exclaimed, walking towards the window, with his back to his sister, whom he did not wish to see how much he was affected by so petty an incident. * The general character of the newspaper press, both in London and the country, has BO greatly improved of late years, as (with a very few despicable exceptions) to render the appearance nowadays of such a paragraph as that in the text exceedingly rare. The press is now, in most instances, presided over by educated and gifted genttemm. It was far otherwise in 18— (the period named in the text). TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 257 " What does he allude to, Kate, when he talks of your having spoken angrily to him, and that he did not know you?" he inquired, after a fe* moments' pause, returning to her. " Oh, Charles ! I am so grieved that you should have noticed it, but since you ask, I will not deceive you ;" and she told him the disgusting occurrence alluded to in the letter. Mr. Aubrey drew himself up uncon- sciously as Kate went on, and she perceived him becoming still paler than before, and/efe the kindling anger of his eye. " Forget it — forget it, dearest Charles ! So despicable a being is really not worth a thought," said Kate, with increasing anxiety, for she had never in her life before witnessed her brother the subject of such powerful emotions as then made rigid his slender frame. At length, drawing a long breath, — " It is fortunate for him, Kate," said he, calmly, " that he is not a gentle- man, and that I endeaivor to he — a Christian." She flung her arms round him, exclaiming, " There spoke my own noble brother !" " I shall preserve this letter as a curiosity, Kate," said he presently, and with a faint smile, and a pointed significance of manner, which arrested his sister's attention, added, "It is rather singular, but sometime before you came in, I opened a letter in which your name is mentioned — I cannot say in a similar manner, and yet — in short, it is from Lord De la Zouch, enclosing one " Miss Aubrey suddenly blushed scarlet, and trembled violently. " Don't be agitated, my dear Kate ; the enclosure is from Lady De la Zouch ; and if it be in the same strain of kindness that pervades Lord De la Zouch's letter to me " "I would rather that you opened and read it, Charles," she faltered, sinking into a chair. " Come, come, dear Kate — play the woman !" said her brother, with an affectionate air. " To say that there is nothing in these letters that I be- lieve will interest you — deeply gratify and interest your feelings — would be " " I know — I — I — suspect — I," — faltered Miss Aubrey, with much agita- tion. " I shall return." " Then you shall take these letters with you, and read or not read them, as you like," said her brother, putting them into her hand with a fond and sorrowful smile, which soon, however, flitted away ; and leading her to the door, he was once more alone. After a brief interval of reverie, he wrote answers to such of the many letters before him as he considered earliest to require them. Notwithstanding the judgment and tenderness with ,which Dr. Tatham discharged the very serious duty which, at the entreaty of his afflicted friends, he had undertaken, of breaking to Mrs. Aubrey the calamity with which she and her family were menaced, the effects of the disclosure had been most disastrous. They occasioned an attack of paralysis ; and Mr. Aubrey, who had long been awaiting the issue, in sickening suspense, in an adjoining room, was hastily summoned in to behold a mournful and heartrending spectacle. His venerable mother — she who had given him 258 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. life, at the mortal peril of her own ; she whom he cherished with unutter- able tenderness and reverence ; she who doated upon him, and from whose dear lips he had never heard a word of unkindness or severity ; whose heart had never known an impulse but of gentle, noble, unbounded gene- rosity towards all around her, — this idolized being now lay suddenly pros- trated and blighted before him. Poor Aubrey yielded to his long and violent agony, in the presence of her who could apparently no longer hear, or see, or be sensible of what was passing in the chamber. " My son," said Dr. Tatham, gently, after the first burst of his friend's grief was over, and he knelt down beside his mother with her hand grasped in his, " despise not the chastening of the Lord ; neither be weaiy of his correction : " For whom the Lord loveth he correcteth, even as a father the son in whom he delighteth. " The Lord will not cast off forever ; " But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. " For he doth not afBict willingly, nor grieve the children of men." It was with great difficulty that Dr. Tatham could render himself audible while uttering these soothing and solemn passages of Scripture in the ear of his distracted friend, beside whom he knelt. Mrs. Aubrey had suflered a paralytic seizure, and lay motionless and insensible, her features slightly disfigured, but partially concealed beneath her long silvery gray hair, which had, in the suddenness of the fit, strayed from beneath her cap. " But what am I about ?" at length exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, with a lan- guid and alarmed air,—" has medical assistance " " Dr. Goddart and Mr. Whately are both sent for by several servants, and will doubtless be very quickly here," replied Dr. Tatham ; and while he yet spoke, Mr. Whately — who, when hastened on by the servant who had been sent for him, was entering the park on a visit to young Mrs. Aubrey, also seriously iU, and in peculiarly critical circumstances — entered the room, and immediately resorted to the necessary measures. Soon after- wards, also. Dr. Gk)ddart arrived ; but, alas I how little could they do for the venerable sufferer ! During the next and for many ensuing days, the lodge was assailed by anxious and sympathizing inquirers, who were answered by Waters, whom Mr. Aubrey — oppressed by the number of friends who hurried up to the Hall, and insisted upon seeing him, to ascertain the extent to which the dreadful rumors were correct — had stationed there during the day, to afford the requisite information. The Hall was pervaded by a gloom which could be/eJ<. Every servant had awobegone look, and moved about as if a funeral were stirring. Little Charles and Agnes, almost imprisoned in their nursery, seemed quite puzzled and confused at the strange, unusual seriousness, and quietness, and melancholy faces everywhere about them. Kate romped not with them.as had been her wont, but would constantly burst into tears as she held them on her knee or in her arms, trying to TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 259 evade the continual questioning of Charlea. " I think it will be time for me to cry too, by-and-by," said he to her one day, with an air half in jest and half in earnest, that made poor Kate's tears flow afresh. Sleepless nights and days of sorrow soon told upon her appearance. Her glorious buoyancy of spirits, which erewhile, as it were, had filled flie whole Hall with gladness— where were they now ! Ah, me ! the rich bloom hiad dis- appeared from her beautiful cheek ; but her high spirit, though oppressed, was not broken, and she stood firmly and calmly amid the scowling skies and lowering tempests. You fancied you saw her auburn tresses stirred upon her pale but calm brow by the breath of the approaching storm, and that she also felt it, but trembled not, gazing on it with a bright and steadfast eye. Her heart might be, indeed, bruised and shaken ; but her spirit was, ay, unconquerable. My glorious Kate, how my heart goes forth towards you ! And thou, her brother, who art of kindred spirit, who art supported by philosophy, and exalted by religion, so that thy constancy cannot be shaken or overthrown by the black and ominous swell of trouble which is increasing and closing around thee, I know that thou wilt outlive the storm. A month or two may see you and yours expelled from Old Yatton, not merely having lost everything, but with a liability to your successor which will hang round your neck like a millstone. What, indeed, is to become of you all ? Whither will you go ? And your suflfering mother, — should she indeed survive so long, is her precious form to be borne away from Yatton ? Around you stand those who, if you fall, will perish — and that you know ; around your calm, sorrowful, but erect figure, are a melancholy group — an affectionate mother — the wife of your bosom — ^your two little children — ^your brave and beautiful sister. Yet think not. Misfortune! that over this man thou art about to achieve thy accustomed triumphs. Here, behold, thou hast a man to contend with ; nay, more, a Christian MAN, who hath calmly girded up his loins against the coming fight 1 It was Sabbath evening, some five weeks or so after the happening of the mournful events above commemorated, and Kate, having spent, as usual, several hours keeping watch beside the silent and motionless figure of her mother, had quitted the chamber for a brief interval, thiukiiig to relieve her oppressed spirits by walking for a little while up and down the long gal- lery. Having slowly paced backwards and forwards once or twice, she rested against the little oriel window at the furthest extremity of the gal- lery, and gazed with saddened eye upon the setting sun, till at length, in calm grandeur, it disappeared beneath the horizon. It was to Kate a solemn and mournful sign, especially followed as it was by the deepening shadows and gloom of evening. She sighed ; and with her hands crossed on her bosom, gazed with a tearful eye into the darkening sky, where glittered the brilliant evening star. Thus she remained, a thousand pensive and tender thoughts passing through her mind, till the increasing chills of evening warned her to retire. "I will go," said she to herself, as she walked slowly along, "and try to play the evening hymn; I may not have many more 260 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. opportunities here." With this view, she gently opened the drawing-room door, and, glancing around, found that she should be alone. The fire gave the only light. She opened the organ with a sigh, and then sat down before it for some minutes without touching the keys. At length she struck them very gently, as if fearful of disturbing those who, however, she soon recollected, were too distant to hear her. Ah ! how many associa^ tions were stirred up as she played over the simple and solemn air I At length, in a low and rather tremulous voice, she began — Soon will the evening star, with silver ray, Shed its mild radiance o'er the sacred day; Kesume we, then, ere night and silence reign. The rites which holiness and Heaven oidaln. She sang the last line somewhat indistinctly, and, overcome by a flood of tender recollections, ceased playing ; then, leaning her head upon her hand, she shed tears. At length she resumed — Here humbly let us hope our Maker's smile Will crown with sweet success our earthly toil— And here, on each returning Sabbath, join — Here poor Kate's voice quivered — and after one or two ineffectual attempts to sing the next line, she sobbed, and ceased playing. She remained for several minutes, her face buried in her handkerchief, shed- ding tears. At length, " I'll play the last verse," thought she, "and then sit down before the fire, and read over the evening service (feeling for her little prayer-book) before I return to poor mamma I" With a firmer hand and voice she proceeded — Father of Heaven ! in whom our hopes confide. Whose power defends us, and whose precepts guide — In life our guardian, and in death our friend, Glory supreme be thine, till time shall end. She played and sang these lines with a kind of solemn energy ; and she felt as if a ray of heavenly light had trembled for a moment upon her uj)- tumed eye. She had not been, as she had supposed, alone ; in the furthest corner of the room had been all the while sitting her brother — ^too exquis- itely touched by the simplicity and goodness of his sweet sister to apprise her of his presence. Several times his feelings had nearly overpowered him ; and as she concluded, he arose from his chair, and approaching her, after her first surprise was over, — "Heaven bless you, dear Kate I" said he, taking her hands in his own. Neither of them spoke for a few moments. " I could not have sung a line, or played, if I had known that you were here," said she, tremulously. " I thought so, Kate, and therefore I remained silent " " I don't think I shall have heart to play again 1" she replied. They were both silent. "Be assured, Kate, that submission to the will of God," said Mr. Aubrey, as, with his arm round his sister, they walked slowly to and fro, " is the great lesson to be learned from the troubles of life ; and for that purpose they are sent. Let us bear up a while ; the waters will not go over our heads I" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 261 " I hope not," replied his sister, faintly, and in tears. " How did you leave Agnes, Charles ?" "She was asleep; she is still very feeble " Here the door was suddenly opened, and Miss Aubrey's maid entered hastily, exclaiming, " Are you here, ma'am ? or sir ?" "Here we are," they replied, hurrying towards her; "what is the matter?" "Oh, madam is talking/ She began speaking all of a sudden. She did, indeed, sir. She's talking, and " continued the girl, almost breathless. " My mother talking !" exclaimed Aubrey, with an amazed air, " Oh, yes, sir ! she is — she is indeed I" Miss Aubrey sank into her brother's arms, overcome for a moment with the sudden and surprising intelligence. " Kouse yourself, Kate !" he exclaimed with animation ; " did I not teU you that Heaven would not forget us ? But I must hasten up stairs, to hear the joyful sounds with my own ears — and do you follow as soon as you can." Leaving her in the care of her maid, he hastened out of the room, and was soon at the door of his mother's chamber. He stood for a moment in the doorway, and his straining ears caught the gentle tones of his mother's voice, speaking in a low but cheerful tone. His knees trem- bled beneath him with joyful excitement. Fearftil of trusting himself in her presence till he had become calmer, he noiselessly sank on the nearest chair, with beating heart and straining ear — ay, every tone of that dear voice thriUed through his heart. But I shall not torture myself or my reader by dwelling upon the scene which ensued. Alas ! the venerable sufferer's tongue was indeed loosed ; — but reason had fled I He listened — he distinguished her words. She supposed that all her children — dead and alive — were romping about her; she spoke of him and his sister as she had spoken to them twenty years before. As soon as he had made this woeful discovery, overwhelmed with grief, he staggered out of the room ; and motioning his sister, who was enter- ing, into an adjoining apartment, communicated to her, with great agita- tion, the lamentable condition of their mother. CHAPTEE XI. HOW THE GKEAT FLAW WAS DISCOVERED IN ME. ATTBEEt'S TITLE; BUT A TEEEIBIE HITCH OCCUBS IN THE PEOCEEDINGS OP HIS OPPONENTS. THE chief comer-stone suddenly found wanting in the glittering fabric of Mr. Titmouse's fortune, so that to the eyes of its startled architects, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, it seemed momentarily threatening to tumble about their ears, was a certain piece of evidence which, being a 262 TEH THOVSAND A YEAR. matter-of-fact man, I should like to explain to the reader, before we get on any- further. In order, however, to do this eflFectually, I must go back to an earlier period in the history than has been yet called to his attention. I make no doubt that by the superficial and impatient motieZ-reader, certain portions of what has gone before, and which could not fail of attracting the attention of long-headed people, as not likely to have been thrown in for nothing (and therefore requiring to be borne in mind with a view to subsequent ex- planation), have been entirely overlooked or forgotten. However this may be, I can fancy that the sort of reader whom I have in my eye as one whose curiosity it is worth some pains to excite and sustain, has more than once asked himself the following question, viz. : — How did Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap first come to be acquainted with the precarious tenure by which }£.t. Aubrey held the Yattou pro- perty ? Why, it chanced in this wise. Mr. Parkinson, of Grilston, who has been already introduced to the reader, has succeeded to his father's first-rate business as a country attorney and solicitor in Yorkshire. He was a highly honorable, painstaking man, and deservedly enjoyed the entire confidence of all his numerous and influ- ential clients. Some twelve years before the period at which this history commences, he had, from pure kindness, taken into his service an orphan boy of the name of Steggars, at first merely as a sort of errand-boy, and to look after the oflSce. He soon, however, displayed so much sharpness, and acquitted himseK so creditably in anything that he happened to be con- cerned in, a little above the run of his ordinary duties, that in the course of a year or two he became a sort of clerk, and sat and wrote at the desk it had formerly been his sole province to dust. Higher and higher did he rise, in process of time, in his master's estimation ; and at length became quite a. factotum — as such, acquainted with the whole course of business that passed through the office. Many interesting matters connected with the circumstances and connections of the neighboring nobility and gentry were thus constantly brought under his notice, and now and then set him think- ing whether the knowledge thus acquired could not, in some way, and at some time or another, be turned to his own advantage ; for I am sorry to say that he was utterly unworthy of the kindness and confidence of Mr. Parkinson, who little thought that in Steggars he had to deal with a rogue in grain. Such being his character, and such his opportunities, this worthy had long made a practice of minuting down, from time to time, anything of interest or importance in the aflairs of his betrayed master's clients — even laboriously copying long documents, when he thought them of impor- tance enough for his purpose, and had the opportunity of doing so without attracting the attention of Mr. Parkinson. He thus silently acquired a mass of information which might have enabled him to occasion great annoyance, and even inflict serious injury; and the precise object he had in view was either to force himself hereafter into partnership with his employer (provided he could get regularly introduced into the profes- sion), or even compel his master's clients to receive him into their confi- dence, adversely to Mr. Parkinson, and make it worth his while to keep the secrets of which he bgd become possessed. So carefiil ought to be, and TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 263 indeed generally are, attorneys and solicitors, as to the characters of those vhom they thus receive into their employ. On the occasion of Mr. Aubrey's intended marriage with Miss St. Clair, with a view to the liberal settlements which he contemplated, a full " Abstract" of his " Title" was laid by Mr. Parkinson before his conveyancer, in order to advise, and to prepare the necessary instruments. Owing to inquiries suggested by the conveyancer, additional statements were laid before him, and produced an opinion of a somewhat unsatisfactory description, from which I shall lay before the reader the following paragraph : — " * * * There seems no reason for supposing that any descendant of Stephen Dreddlington is now in existence ;* still, as it is by no means ph/gsi- aMy impossible that such a person may be in esse, it would unquestionably be most important to the security of Mr. Aubrey's title to establish clearly the validity of the conveyance by way of mortgage, executed by Harry Dreddlington, and which was afterwards assigned to Geoffrey Dreddling-ton, on his paying off the money borrowed by his deceased uncle : since the descent of Mr. Aubrey from Geofirey Dreddlington would, in that event, clothe him with an indefeasible title at law by virtue of that deed ; and any equitable rights which were originally outstanding would be barred by lapse of time. But the difficulty occurring to my mind on this part of the case is, that unless Harry Dreddlington, who executed that deed of mortgage, survived his father (a point on which I am surprised that I am furnished with no information), the deed itself would have been mere waste parchment, as in reality the conveyance of a person who never had amy interest in the Yatton property — and, of course, neither Geoffiey Dred- dlington nor his descendant Mr. Aubrey could derive any right whatever under such an instrument. In that case, such a contingency as I have above hinted at — I mean the existence of any legitimate descendant of Stephen Dreddlington— mijAf have a most serious effect upon the rights of Mr, Aubrey." Now every line of this opinion, and also even of the Abstract of Title upon which it was written, did this quicksighted young scoundrel copy out, and deposit, as a great prize, in his desk, among other similar notes and memoranda, little wotting his master, the while, of what his clerk was doing. Some year or two afterwards, the relationship subsisting between Mr. Parkinson and his clerk Steggars was suddenly determined by a some- what untoward event; viz., by the latter's decamping with the sum of f 700 sterling, being the amount of money due on a mortgage, which he had been sent to receive from a client of Mr. Paikinson's. Steggars fled for it — but first having bethought himself of the documents to which I have been alluding, and which he carried with him to London. Hot pur- suit was made after the enterprising Mr. Steggars, who was taken into cus- tody two or three days after his arrival in town, while he was walking about the streets, with the whole of the sum which he had embezzled, mimus a few pounds, upon his person, in bank notes. He was quickly deposited in Newgate. His natural sagacity assured him that his case was rather an ugly one ; but hope did not desert him. * Before perusing this opinion, the reader should refer to the pedigree, post 267 ; with- out which the opinion will not be fully understood. 264 TEN THOVSAND A YEAR. " Well, my kiddy," said Grasp, the grim-visaged, gray-headed turnkey,' as soon as he had ushered Steggars into his snug little quarters ; " here you are, you see — isn't you ?" " It looks like it, don't it?" replied Steggajs, shaking his head sadly. " Well — and if you want to have a chance of not going across the water afore your time, you'll get yourself defended, and the sooner the better d'ye see. There's Quirk, Gammon & Snap — my eyes! how they do thin this here place of ours, to be sure I The only thing is to get 'em soon ; 'cause, ye see, they're so run after. Shall I send them to you?" Steggars answered eagerly in the affirmative. In order to account for this spontaneous good nature on the part of Grasp, I must explain that old Mr. Quirk had for years secured a highly respectable criminal practice, by having in his interest most of the officers attached to the police-offices and Newgate. He gave, in fact, systematic gratuities to these gentry, in order to get their recommendations to the persecuted individuals who came into their power. Very shortly after Grasp's messenger had reached Saffron Hill, with the intelligence that "there was something new in the trap," old Quirk bustled down to Newgate, and was introduced to Steggars, with whom he was closeted for some time. He took a lively interest in his new client, to whose narrative of his flight aaid capture he listened in a very kind and sympathizing way, lamenting the severity of the late statute applicable to the case (see App.) ; and promised to do for him whatever his little skill and experience could do. He hinted, however, that, as Mr. Steggars must be aware, a Utile ready money would be re- quired, in order to fee counsel — whereat Steggars looked blank indeed, and, Itnowing the state of his exchequer, imagined himself already on ship- board, on his way to Botany Bay. Old Mr. Quirk asked him if he had no friends who would raise a trifle for a " chum in trouble," — and on Mr. Steggars answering in the negative, he observed the enthusiasm of the respectable old gentleman visibly and rapidly cooling down. " But I'll tell you what, sir," said poor Steggars, suddenly, " if I haven't money, I may have money's worth at my command ; — I've a little box, that's at my lodging, which those that catched me knew nothing of, and in which there is a trifle or two about the families and fortimes of some of the first folk in the best part of Yorkshire, that would be precious weU worth looking after, to those who know how to follow up such matters." Old Quirk hereat pricked up his ears, and asked his young friend how he got possession of such secrets. " Oh, fie ! fie !" said he, gently, as soon as Steggars had told him the practices of which I have already put the reader in possession. " Ah, you may say fie 1 fie ! if you like," quoth Steggars, earnestly ; " but the thing is, not how they were come by, but what can be done with tliem, now they're got. For example, there's a certain member of Pailiament in Yorkshire, that, high as he may hold his head, has no more right to the estates that yield him a good ten thousand a year than I have, but keeps some folk out of their own, that could pay some other folk a round sum to be put in the way of getting their own ;" and that — intimated the suffer- ing captive — was only owe of the good things he knew of. Here old Quirk TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 265 rubbed his chin, hemmed, fidgeted about in his seat, took off his glasses, wiped them, replaced them, and presently went through that ceremony again. He then said that he had had the honor of being concerned for a great number of gentlemen in Mr. Steggars' " present embarrassed circum- stances," but who had always been able to command at least a five-pound note, at starting, to run a heat for liberty. " Come, come, old gentleman," quoth Steggars, earnestly, " I don't want to go over the water before my time, if I can help it, I assure you ; and I see you know the value of what I've got ! Such a gentleman as you can turn every bit of paper I have in my box into a fifty-pound note." " All this is moonshine, my young friend," said old Quirk, but irreso- lutely. "Ah I is it, though ! To be able to tell the owner of a fat ten thousand a year that you can spring a mine under his feet at any moment — eh ? — and no one ever know how you came by your knowledge. And if they wouldn't do what was handsome, couldn't you get the right heir — and wouldn't that — Lord I it would make the fortunes of half-a-dozen of the first houses in the profession 1" Old Quirk got a little excited. " But mind, sir — you see" — said Steggars, " if I get oflT, I'm not to be cut out of the thing altogether — eh ? I shall look to be taken into your em- ploy, and dealt handsomely by " "Oh, heml" exclaimed Quirk, involuntarily — adding quickly, "Yes, yes ! to be sure I only fair ; but let us first get you out of your present diffi- culty, you know 1" Steggars, having exacted from him a written promise to use his utmost exertions on his (Steggars') behalf, and secure him the services of two of the most eminent Old Bailey counsel — viz., Mr. Bluster and Mr. Slang — gave Mr. Quirk the number of the house where the pre- cious box was, and a written order to the landlord to deliver it up to the bearer: after which Mr. Quirk shook him cordially by the hand, and having quitted the prisoii, made his way straight to the house in question, and succeeded in obtaining what he asked for. He faithfully performed his agreement with Steggars, retaining both Bluster and Slang for him, and getting up their briefe with care : but alas I although these eminent men exerted all their great powers, they succeeded not in either bothering the judge, bamboozling the jury, or browbeating the witnesses, the princi- pal one of whom was Mr. Parkinson. Steggars was found guilty and sentenced to be transported for fourteen years. (See App.) Enraged at this issue, he sent a message the next day to Mr. Quirk, requesting a visit from him. "When he arrived, Steggars, in a desperate tone, demanded that his papers should be returned to him. 'Twas in vain that Mr. Quirk ex- plained to him again and again his novel and interesting position with reference to his goods, chattels and effects — i. e., that, as a convicted felon, he had no further concern with them, and might dismiss all anxiety on that score from his mind. Steggars hereat got more furious than before, and intimated plainly the course he should feel it his duty to pursue — viz., that, if the papers in question were not given up to him as he desired, he should at once write off to his late employer, Mr. Parkinson, and acknow- ledge how much more he (Steggars) had wronged that gentleman and Ijis 266 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. clients than he supposed. Old Quirk feelingly represented to him that he was at liberty to do anything that he thought calculated to relieve his ex- cited feelings : and then took a final farewell of his client, wishing him health and happiness. "I say, Grasp 1" said he, in a whisper, to that grim functionary, as soon as he had secured poor Steggars in his cell, " that bird is a little raffled just now — isn't he, think you ?" " Lud, sir, the nat'ralist thing in the world, considering " "Well, if he should want a letter taken to any one, whatever he may say to the contrary, you'll send it on to Saffron Hill — eh ? Understand ? lie may be injuring himself, you know ;" and Old Quirk with one hand clasped the huge arm of Grasp in a familiar way, and with the forefingw of the other touched his own nose, and then winked his eye. "All right 1" quoth Grasp, and they parted. Within a few hours' time, Mr. Quirk received, by the hand of a trusty messenger, from Grasp, a letter written by Steggars to Mr, Parkinson — a long and eloquent one, to the purport and effect which Steggars had intimated. Mr. Quirk read it with much satisfaction, for it disclosed a truly praiitent feeling, and a desire to undo as much mischief as the writer had done. Mr. Quirk was not in the least exasperated by certain plain terms in which his own name was mentioned, but, making all due allowances for excited feelings, quietly put the letter in the fire as soon as he had read it. In due time Mr. Steggars, whose health was beginning to suffer from close confinement, caught fre- quent whifis of the fresh sea-breeze, having set out, under favorable aus- pices, for Botany Bay, for which distant but happy place he had been thus fortunate in early securing an " appointment" for so considerable a portion of his life. Such, then, I lament to say, were the miserable means by which Mr. Quirk became acquainted with the exact state of Mr. Aubrey's title, — on first becoming apprised of which, Mr. Gammon either felt or affected great repugnance to taking any part in the affair. He appeared to suffer him- self, at length, however, to be over-persuaded by Quirk into acquiescence ; and, that point gained — having ends in view of which Mr. Quirk had not the least conception, and which, in fact, had but suddenly occurred to Mr. Gammon himself — worked his materials with a caution, skill, energy, and perseverance, which soon led to important results. Guided by the sugges- tions of acute and experienced counsel, after much pains and considerable expense, they had succeeded in discovering that precious specimen of humanity. Tittlebat Titmouse, who hath already played divers antics before the musing reader. When they came to set down on paper the result of all their researches and inquiries, in order to submit it in the shape of a case for the opinion of Mr. Mortmain and Mr. Frankpledge, in the manner described in a former part of this history, it looked perfect on paper, as many a faulty pedigree and abstract of title had looked before, and will yet look. It was quite possible for even Mr. Tresayle himself to overlook the defect which had been pointed out by Mr. Subtle. That which is stated to a conveyancer as afoAd — any particular event, for instance, as of a death, a birth, or a marriage, at a particular tune or place, which the very TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 267 nature of the case renders highly probable — he is warranted in assuming to be so. But when the same statement comes, with quite a different object, under the experienced eye of a nisi prius lawyer, who knows that he will have to prove his case, step by step, the aspect of things is soon changed. " De non apparentibtis, et de non existentibus," saith the law, " eadem est ratio," which, learnedly done into English, runneth thus, as many a poor suitor hath found to his exceeding great discomfiture : " It is all mighty fine to say that such and such a thing is a fact — it may be so ; but if you cannot prom its existence, for legal purposes, it does not exist at alll" The first practitioner in the common law, before whom the case came, in its roughest and earliest form, in order that he might " lick it into shape," and "advise generally" preparatory to its "being laid before coun- sel," was Mr. Traverse, a young pleader, whom Messrs. Quirk and Gam- mon were disposed to take by the hand. He wrote a very showy but, alasl superficial and delusive opinion, and put the intendei prot&gi of his clients, as it were by a kind of hop, step, and jump, into possession of the Yatton estates. Quirk was quite delighted on reading it ; but Gammon shook his head, with a somewhat sarcastic smile, and said he would at once prepare a case for the opinion of Mr. Lynx, whom he had pitched upon as the junior counsel in any proceedings which might be instituted in a court of law. Lynx — of whom I shall speak hereafter — was an experienced, hard- headed,- vigUant, and accurate lawyer, — the very man for such a case, re- quiring, as it did, patient and minute examination. With an eye fitted " To inspect a mite, not comprehend the heaTen," he crawled, as it were, over a case ; and thus, even as one can imagine that a beetle, creeping over the floor of St. Paul's, would detect minute flaws and fissures invisible to the eye of Sir Christopher Wren himself, spied out defects which much nobler optics would have overlooked. To come to plain matter-of-fact, however, I have beside me the original opinion written by Mr. Lynx, and shall treat the reader to a taste of it, giving him sufficient to enable him to appreciate the very ticklish position of aflfairs with Mr. Titmouse. To make it not altogether unintelligible, let us sup- pose the state of the pedigree to be something like this, as far as concerns our present purpose : — (Debdduhgtoh.) T ± ' i (Harry Dreddlington.) (Charles Dreddlington.) (Stephen Dreddlington.) (Geofiey Dreddlington.) (A female descendant (A female descendant marries Gabriel TUtlebat marries TUmause through whom Charles Aubkey, Esq., Tittlebat Titmouse father of the present claims.) possessor.) 268 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. Be pleased now, unlearned reader, to bear in mind that " Dreddlington," at the top of the above table, is the common ancestor, having two sons, the elder "Harry Dreddlington," the younger " Charles Dreddlington ;" the latter having, in like manner, two sons, " Stephen Dreddlington" the elder son, and " Geoffrey Dreddlington" the younger son ; that Mr. Aubrey, at present in possession, claims under " Geofirey Dreddlington." Now, it will be incumbent on Mr. Titmouse, in the first instance, to establish in himself a clear, independent, legal, and possessory title to the estates ; it being suffi- cient for Mr. Aubrey (possession being nine-tenths of the law) to falsify Titmouse's proofe, or show them defective, "because," saith a certain learned seijeant, who hath writ a text-book upon the Action of Ejectment, "the plaintiff in an action of ejectment must recover upon the strength of his own title, not the weakness of his adversary's." (See App.) Now, rebus sic stantibus, behold the astute Lynx advising, inter alia, in manner following, that is to say : — " It appears clear that the lessor of the plaintiff {i. e. Tittlebat Titmouse) will be able to prove that Dreddlington (the common ancestor) was seised of the estate at Yatton in the year 1740 ; that he had two sons, Harry and Charles, the former of whom, after a life of dissipation, appears to have died without issue ; and that from the latter (Charles) are descended Ste- phen, the ancestor of the lessor of the plaintiff, and Geoffrey, the ancestor of the defendant. Assuming, therefore, that the descent of the lessor of the plaintiff from Stephen can be made out, as there appears every reason to expect [on this point Lynx had written two "brief" pages], a, clear primd fade case will have been established on the part of the lessor of the plain- tiff. As, however, it is expected that Harry Dreddlington executed a con- veyance in fee of the property, in order to secure the loan contracted by him from Aaron Moses, it will be extremely important to ascertain, and, if possible, procure satisfactory evidence, that the decease of Harry Dred- dlington occurred before the period at which, by his father's death, that conveyance could have become operative upon the property : since it is obvious that, should he have survived his father, that instrument, being owt- standing, may form a complete answer to the case of the lessor of the plain- tiff. The danger will be obviously increased should the debt to Aaron Moses prove to have been paid off, as it is stated was rvunored to have been the fact, by Geofirey Dreddlington, the younger son of Charles Dred- dlington ; for, should that turn out to be the case, he would probably have taken a conveyance to himself, or to trustees for his benefit, from Aaron Moses— which being in the power of the defendant, Mr. Aubrey, would enable him to make out a title to the property paramount to that now attempted to be set up on behalf of Mr. Titmouse. Every possible ex- ertion therefore should be made to ascertain the precise period of the death of Harry Dreddlington. The registries of the various parishes in which the family may have at any time resided should be carefully searched ; and an examination made in the churches and churchyards, of all tombstones, escutcheons, &c., belonging, or supposed to belong, to the Dreddlington family, and by which any light can be thrown upon this most important point. It appears clear that Dreddlington (the common TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 269 ancestor) died on August 7, 1742. The question, therefore, simply is, whether the death of his eldest son {Harry) took place prim- or suhsequtent to thM period. It is to be feared that the defendant may be in possession of some better and more direct evidence on this point than is attainable by the lessor of the plaintiff. The natural presumption would certainly seem to be, that the son, being the younger and stronger man, was the survivor." (See App.) The above mentioned opinion of Mr. Lynx, together with that of Mr. Subtle entirely corroborating it, and which was alluded to in a late chapter of this history, and a pedigree, were lying on the table one day, at the office at Saffron Hill, before the anxious and perplexed partners, Messrs. Quirk and Gammon. Gammon was looking attentively, and with a dispirited, chagrined air, at the pedigree, and Quirk was looking at Gammon. "Now, Gammon," said the former, "juet let me see again where the exact hitch is — eh ? You'll think me perhaps infernally stupid, but — curse me if I can see it !" " See it, my dear sir ? Here, here I" replied Gammon, with sudden im- patience, putting his finger two or three times to the words "Sarry D." " 'Drat it I Don't be so sharp with one. Gammon I I know as well as you that that's ahout where the crack is ; but what is the precise thing we're in want of, eh ?" " Proof, my dear sir," replied Gammon, somewhat impatiently, but with such a smile I " of the death of Harry Dreddlingtou some time — no matter when — previous to the 7th August, 1742; and in default thereof, Mr. Quirk, we are all flat on our backs, and had better never have stirred in the business !" "You know. Gammon, you're better up in these matters than I — because I've not been able to turn my particular attention to 'em since I first began business — so just tell me, in a word, what, good's to be got by showing that fellow to have died in his father's lifetime ?" " You don't show your usual acuteness, Mr. Quirk," replied Gammon, blandly. " It is, to make waste paper of that confounded conveyance which he executed, and which Mr- Aubrey doubtless has, and with which he may at a stroke cut the ground from under our feet !" "The very thought makes one feel quite funny — don't it. Gammon?" quoth Quirk, with a flustered air. " It may well do so, Mr. Quirk. Now we are fairly embarked in a cause where success will be attended with so many splendid results, Sir. Quirk — though I'm sure you'll always bear me out in saying how very unwilling I was to take advantage of the villainy of that miscreant Steg — ^hem " " Gammon, Gammon, you're always harking back to that — I'm tired of hearing on't!" interrupted Quirk, angrily, but with an embarrassed air. " Well, now we're in it," said Gammon, with a sigh, and shrugging his shoulders, " I don't see why we should allow ourselves to be baffled by trifles. The plain question is, undoubtedly, whether we are to stand still or go on." Mr. Quirk gazed at Mr. Gammon with an anxious and puz- zled look. " Ay — that's the question indeed 1" 270 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " How d'ye make it out — in a legal way, you know, Gammon — when a man died — I mean of a natural death ?" inquired Quirk, seriously. He was familiar enough with the means of proving the exact hour of certain violent deaths at Debtor's Door. "Oh ! there are various methods of doing so, my dear sir,'' replied Gam- mon, carelessly. " Entries in family Bibles and Prayer-books— registers- tombstones — ay, by the way, Au old tombstone," continued Gammon^ musingly, " that would settle the business I" "An old tombstone 1" echoed Quirk, briskly, but suddenly dropping his voice. " Lord, Gammon, so it would 1 That's an idea I I call that a decided idea, Gammon. 'Twould be the very thing I" " The very thing 1" repeated Gammon, pointedly. They remained silent for some moments. " Snap could not have looked about him sharply enough when he was down at Yatton — could he, Gammon ?" at length observed Quirk, in a low tone, flushing all over as he uttered the last words, and felt Gammon's cold gray eye settled on him like a snake. " He could not, indeed, my dear sir," replied Gammon, while Quirk con- tinued gazing earnestly at him, now and then wriggling about in his chaif, rubbing his chin, and drumming with his fingers on the table — "And now that you've suggested the thing [oh. Gammon, Gammon !] — ^it's not to be wondered at 1 You know, it would have been an old tombstone — a sort of fragment of a tombstone, perhaps — so deeply sunk in the ground, probably, as easily to have escaped observation. Eh ? Does it not strike you so, Mr. Quirk ?" AU this was said by Gammon in a musing manner, and in a very low tone of voice ; and he was delighted to find his words sinking into the eager and fertUe mind of his companion. " Ah, Gammon 1" exclaimed Quirk, with a sound of partly a sigh and partly a whistle, the former being the exponent of the truR state of his feel- ings, i. e. anxiety — the latter of what he wished to ajipear the state of his feelings, i. e. indifference. "Yes, Mr. Quirk?" " You're a deep devil, Gammon — I wiR say that for you 1" replied Quirk, glancing towards each door, and, as it were, unconsciously drawing his chair a little closer to that of Gammon. "Nay, my dear sir 1" said Gammon, with a deferential and- deprecating smile, "you give me credit for an acuteness I feel I do not possess! I^ indeed, I had not had your sagacity to rely upon, ever since I have had the honor of being connected with you in business ah, .Mr. Quirk, you know you lead — I foUow " " Gammon, Gammon !" interrupted Quirk, with an uncomfortable, but still a mollified air. " Come — your name's (My " " In moments like these, Mr. Quirk, I say nothing that I do not feel," interrupted Gammon, gravely, putting to his nose the least modicum of snuff which he could take with the tip of his finger out of the huge box of Mr. Quirk, who just then was thrusting huge pinches every half minute up his nostrils. " It will cost a great deal of money to find that same tombstone. Gam- TEN TBOVSAND A TEAR. 271 mon !" said Quirk, in almost a whisper, and paused, looking intently at Gammon. " I think this is a different kind of snuff from that which you usually take, Mr. Quirk, isn't it ?" inquired Gammon, as he inserted the tips of his fingers a second time into the mechanically proffered box of Mr. Quirk. " The same — the same," replied Quirk, hastily. " You are a man better fitted for serious emergencies, Mr. Quirk, than any man I ever came near," said Gammon, deferentially ; " I perceive that you have hit the nail on the head, as indeed you akiays do 1" " Tut ! Stuff, Gammon ; you're every bit as good a hand as I am !" re- plied Quirk, with an evident miatuie of pleasure and embarrassment. Gammon smiled, shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders. " 'Tis that practical sagacity of yours, Mr. Quirk," said he — " you know it as well as I can tell you — that has raised you to your present profes- sional eminence I" He paused, and looked with a very special sort of sincerity at his senior partner. " Well, I must own I think I do know a trick or two," quoth Quirk, with a sort of grunt of gratification. "Ay, and further, there are some clever men who never can keep their own counsel ; but are like a hen that has just laid an egg, and directly she has risen, goes foolishly cackling about everywhere, and then her egg is taken away ; but you " "Ha, ha!" laughed Quirk; "that's deirHish good, Grammonl Capital I Gad, I think I see the hee ! Ha, ha !" " Ha, ha !" echoed Gammon, gently. " But to be serious, Mr. Quirk ; what I was going to say was, that I thoroughly appreciate your admirable caution in not confiding to any one — no, not even to me — the exact means by which you intend to extricate us from our present dilemma." Here Quirk got very fidgety, and twirled his watch-key violently. " Hem ! But — ^hem ! Ay — a — a," he grunted, looking with an uneasy air at his calm astute companion; "I didn't mean so much as all that, either, Gammon ; for two heads, in my opinion, are better than one. You Trmst own that, Granunon !" said he, not at all relishing the heavy burden of responsibility which he felt that Gammon was about to devolve upon his (Quirk's) shoulders exclusively. "'Tis undoubtedly rather a serious business on which we are now enter- ing," said Gammon ; " and I have always admired a saying which you years ago told me of that great man Machiavel " [Oh, Gammon ! Gammon 1 You well know that poor old Mr. Quirk never heard of the name of that same Machiavel till this tnomeut!] — " That ' when great affairs are stirring, a master-move should be con- fined to the master-mind that projects it.' I understand ! I see ! I will not, therefore, inquire into the precise means by which I am satisfied you will make it appear, in due time (while I am engaged getting up the subordinate but very harassing details of the general case), that Harry Dreddlington died befoke the 7 th of August, 1742." Here, taking out his watch, he suddenly added — "Bless me, Mr. Quirk, how time passes!^ 272 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. Two o'clock ! I ought to have been at Messrs. Gregson's a quarter of an hour ago." " Stop — a moment or two can't signify 1 It — it," said Quirk, hesitatingly, "it was you, wasn't it, that thought of the tombstone?" " I, my dear Mr. Quirk" — interrupted Grammon, with a look of astonish- ment and deference. " Come, come — honor among thieves, you know, Gammon !" said Quirk, trying to laugh. " No ; it shall never be said that I attempted to take the credit of " commenced Gammon ; when a clerk entering, put an end to the colloquy between the partners, each of whom, presently, was sitting alone in his own room — for Gammon found that he was too late to think of keeping his engagement with Messrs. Gregson, if indeed he had ever made any — "which, however, he had not. Mr. Quirk sat in a musing posture for nearly half an hour after he and Gammon had separated. " Gammon is a deep one I FU be hanged if ever there was his equal," said Quirk to hirpself, at length ; and starting off his chair, with his hands crossed behind him, he walked softly to and fro. " I know what he's driving at — though he thought I didn't ! He'd let me scratch my hands in getting the black- berries, and then he'd come smiling in to eat 'em I But— share and share alike — share profit, share danger, master Gammon ; — ^you may find after all that Caleb Quirk is a match for Oily Gajnmon — ^I'll have you in for it, one way or another!" Here occurred a long pause in his thoughts. "Eeally I doubt the thing's growing unmanageable — the priae, can't be worth the riskl Bisk, indeed — ^bedad! — ^iVs neither more nor less than " Here a certain picture hanging, covered with black crape, in the drawing-room at Alibi House, seemed to have glided down from its station, and to be hanging close before his eyes, with the crape drawn aside — a ghastly object — eugh! He shuddered, and involuntarily closed his eyes. " How devilish odd that I should just now have happened to think of it !" he inwardly exclaimed, sinking into his chair in a sort of cold sweat. " D — n the picture !" at length said he aloud, getting more and more flustered. "I'll bum it! It sha'n't disgrace my drawing-room any longer !" Here Quirk almost fencied that some busy little fiend sat squat- ting before the grisly picture, writing the words "Caieb Quibk" at the bottom of it ; and a sort of sickness came over him for a moment. Pre- sently he started up, and took down one of several well-worn dingy-looking books standing on the shelves — a volume of Burns' Justice. Resuming his seat, he put on his glasses, and with a little trepidation turned to the head " Forgery," and glanced over it, divided as it was into two great heads — " Forgery at Common Law, and Forgery hy Statute," with many able obser- vations of the learned compiler, and important "cases" cited. At length his eye lit upon a paragraph which seemed suddenly to draw his heart up into his throat, producing a sensation which made him involuntarily clap his hand upon his neck. " Oh, Gammon ! !" he muttered, drawing off his glasses, sinking back in his chair, and looking towards the door which opened into Gammon's '1'EN THOUSAND A YEAR. 273 room, extending at the same time, in that direction, his right arm, and slinking his flst. " You yrccMras villain! I've an uncommon inclination," at length thought he, " to go down slap to Yorkshire — say nothing to any- body—make peace with the enemy, and knock up the whole thing for a couple of thousand pounds — a trifle to the Aubreys, I'm sure. Were I in his place, I shouldn't grudge it ; and why should he ? By Jove," he got a little heated — " that would be, as Gammon has it, a master-move I and confined, egad ! to the master-mind that thought of it 1 Why should he ever know of the way in which the thing blew up ? Eeally 'twould be worth half the money to do Gammon so hollow for once — by George it would I Gammon, that would slip Caleb Quirk's neck so slyly into the halter, indeed I" " I'll tell you what, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, suddenly re-entering the room after about an hour's absence, during which he too had, like his senior partner, been revolving many things in his mind, " it has occurred to me that I had better immediately go down to Yatton alone." Hereat Mr. Quirk opened both his eyes and his mouth to their widest, got very red in the face, and stared at his placid partner with a mingled expression of fear and wonder. " Hang me. Gammon !" at length he ex- claimed desperately, slapping his fist upon the table, "if I don't think you're the very devil himself!" — and he sank back in his chair, verily believing, in the momentary confusion of his thoughts, that what had been passing through his mind was known to Gammon, or that what had been passing through his own mind had also been occurring to Gammon, who had resolved upon being beforehand in putting his purposes into execu- tion. Gammon was at firet completely confounded by Quirk's reception of him, and stood for a few moments, with his hands elevated, in silence. Then he approached the table, and his eye caught the well-thumbed volume of Burns' Justice, open at the head " FOEGEEY 1" and the quick- sighted Grammon saw how matters stood at a glance — the process by which the result he had just witnessed had been arrived at. " Well, Mr. Quirk, what new vagary now ?" he inquired with an air of smiling curiosity. "Vagary be 1" growled old Quirk sullenly, without moving in his chair. Gammon stood for a moment or two eyeing him with a keen scrutiny. "What!" at length he inquired, good-humoredly, "do you then really grudge me any share in the little enterprise ?" " Eh ?" quickly interrupted Quirk, pricking up his ears. " Do you intend to play Mackivdf eh? What must you go down alone to Yatton for, Gammon ?" continued Quirk anxiously. "Why, simply as a sort of pioneer — to reconnoitre the churchyard — eh? I thought it might have been of service ; but if " " Gammon, Gammon, your hand ! I understand," replied Quirk, evi- dently vastly relieved — most cordially shaking the cold hand of Gammon. "But understand, Mr. Quirk," said he in a peremptory manner, "no one upon earth is to know of my visit to Yatton except yourself." He received a solemn pledge to that effect : and presently the partners IS 274 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. separated, a little better satisfied with each other. Though not a word passed between them for several days afterwards on the topic chiefly dis- cussed during the interview above described, the reader may easily imagine that neither of them dropped it from his thoughts. Mr. Quirk shortly afterwards paid one or two visits to the neighborhood of Houndsditch (a perfect hotbed of clients to the firin), where resided two or three gentlemen of the Jewish persuasion, who had been placed, from time to time, under considerable obligations by the firm of Quirk, Gammon & Snap, in respect of professional services rendered both to themselves and to their friends. One of them, in particular, had a painful consciousness that it was in old Mr. Quirk's power at any time, by a whisper, to place his (the aforesaid Israelite's) neck in an unsightly noose which every now and then might be seen dangling from a beam opposite Debtor's Door, Newgate, about eight o'clock in the morning ; him, therefore, every consideration of inter- est and of gratitude combined to render subservient to the reasonable wishes of Mr. Quirk. He was a most ingenious little fellow, and had a great taste for the imitative arts — so strong, in fact, that it had once or twice placed him in some jeopardy with the Goths and Vandals of the law, who characterized the noble art in which he excelled by an ugly and formidable word, and annexed barbarous penalties to its practice. What passed be- tween him and old Quirk on the occasion of their interviews I know not ; but one afternoon, the latter, on returning to his ofiSee, Tyithout saying any- thing to anybody, having bolted the door, took out of his pocket several little pieces of paper, containing pretty picturesque devices of a fragmentary character, with antique letters and figures on them — crumbling pieces of stone, some looking more and some less sunk in the ground, and overgrown with grass ; possibly they were designs for ornaments to be added to that tasteful structure — Alibi House — ^possibly intended to grace Miss Quirk's album. However this might be, after he had looked at them, and carefully compared them one with another, for some time, he folded them up in a sheet of paper, sealed it — with certainly not the steadiest hand in the world— and then deposited it in an iron safe, which he locked up quickly ; and then, after a heavy sigh, exclaimed — "Whew!" CHAPTEB XII. MADAM AITBEKY'S DEATH AND BTJEIAl,; GAMMON SMITTEN 'WITH THE SIGHT OP KATE AUBREY'S BEAUTY; AND A GKEAT BATTLE TAKIS PLACE AT THE YOEK ASSIZES FOB YATTON. YATTON, the recovery of which was the object of these secret and for- midable movements and preparations, not to say machinations, was all this while the scene of deep affliction. The lamentable condition of his mother plunged Mr. Aubrey, his wife and sister into profounder grief than had been occasioned by the calamity which menaced them all in common. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 275 Had he been alone, he would have encountered the sudden storm of adver- sity with unshrinking, nay, cheerfiil firmness ; but could it be so, when he had ever before him those whose ruin was involved in his own ? Poor Mrs. Aubrey, his wife, having been two or three weeks confined to her bed, during which time certain fond hopes of her husband had been blighted, was almost overpowered, when, languid and feeble, supported by Mr. Aubrey and Kate, she first entered the bedroom of the venerable sufferer. What a difference, indeed, was there between the appearance of all of them at that moment and on the Christmas day when, a happy group, they were cheerfully enjoying the festivities of the season! Ah, well might their sorely smitten hearts echo the awful words^" Boast not thyself of to- morrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth I" Kate was now pale, and somewhat thinner ; her beautiful features exhib- ited a careworn expression ; yet there was a serene lustre in her blue eye, and a composed resolution in her air, which bespoke the superiority of her soul. What had it not cost her to bear with any semblance of self-posses- sion, or fortitude, the sad spectacle now presented by her mother ! What a tender and vigilant nurse was she, to one who could no longer be sensible of or appreciate her attentions ! How that sweet girl humored all her ven- erated and suffering parent's little eccentricities and occasional excitement, and accommodated herself to every varying phase of her mental malady. She had so schooled her sensibilities and feelings as to be able to maintain perfect cheerfulness and composure in her mother's presence, on occasions which forced her brother to turn aside with an eye of agony — overcome by some touching speech or wayward action of the unconscious sufferer, who constantly imagined herself, poor soul ! to be living over again her early married life ; and that in her little grandchildren, she beheld Mr. Aubrey and Kate as in their childhood ! She would gently chide Mr. Aubrey, her husband, for his prolonged absence, asking many times a day whether he had returned from London. Every morning old Jacob Jones was shown into her chamber, at the hour at which he had been accustomed in happier days to attend upon her. The faithful old man's eyes would be blinded with tears, and his voice choked, as he was asked how Peggy got over her yesterday's journey ; and listened to questions, messages, and directions, which had been familiar to him twenty years before, about villagers and tenants who had long lain mouldering in their humble graves — their way thither cheered and smoothed by Mrs. Aubrey's Christian charity and benevolence 1 'Twas a touching sight to see her two beautiful grandchil- dren, in whose company she delighted, brought, with a timorous and half-reluctant air, into her presence. How strange must have seemed to them the cheerfulness of the motionless figure always lying in the bed — a cheerfulness which, though gentle as gentle could be, yet sufficed not to assure the little things, or set them at their ease. Though her mild features ever smiled upon them, still 'twas from a, prostrate figure, which never moved, and was always surrounded by mournful persons, with sorrowful constraint in their countenances and gestures. Charles would stand watch- ing her, with apprehensive eye^the finger of one hand raised to his lip, while his other retained the hand which had brought him in, as if fearful 276 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. of its quitting hold of him ; the few words he could be brought to speak were in a subdued tone and hurried utterance ; and when, having been lifted up to kiss his grandmamma, he and his sister were taken out of the chamber, their little breasts would heave a sigh, which showed how sensibly they were relieved from their recent constraint and appre- iension. How woefully changed was everything in the once cheerftil old Hall 1 Mr. Aubrey sitting in the library, intently engaged upon books and papers — Mrs. Aubrey and Kate now and then, arm-in-arm, walking slowly up and down the galleries, or one of the rooms, or the hall, not with their former sprightly gayety, but pensive, and often in tears, and then returning to the chamber of their suffering parent. All this was sad work, indeed, and seemed, as it were, to herald coming desolation 1 But little variation occurred for several weeks in the condition of Mrs. Aubrey, except that she grew visibly feebler. One morning, however, about six weeks after her seizure, from certain symptoms, the medical men intimated their opinion that some important change was on the eve of taking place, for which they prepared the family. She had been very restless during the night. After frequent intervals of uneasy sleep, she would awake with evident surprise and bewilderment. Sometimes a pecu- liar smile would flit over her emaciated features ; at others, they would be overcast with gloom, and she would seem struggling to suppress tears. Her voice, too, when she spoke, was feeble and tremulous ; and she would sigh, and shake her head mournfully. Old Jacob Jones not being introduced at the accustomed hour, she asked for him. When he made his appearance she gazed at him for a moment or two, with a perplexed eye, exclaiming, " Jacob 1 Jacob ! is it you ?" in a low tone ; and then she closed her eyes, apparently falling asleep. Thus passed the day; her daughter and daughter-in-law sitting on either side of the bed, where they had so long kept their anxious and affectionate vigils — Mr. Aubrey sitting at the foot of the bed — and Dr. Goddart and Mr. Whately in frequent, attendance. Towards the evening. Dr. Tatham also, as had been his daily custom through her illness, appeared, and in a low tone read over the service for the visitation of the sick. Shortly afterwards Mr. Aubrey was obliged to quit the chamber, in order to attend to some pressing matter of business ; and he had been engaged for nearly an hour, intending almost every moment to return to his mother's chamber, when Dr. Tatiam entered, as Mr. Aubrey was subscribing his name to a letter, and, with a little earnest ness, said, " Come, my friend, let us return to your mother ; methinks she is on the eve of some decisive change : the issue is with God 1" Within a few moments they were both at the bedside of Mrs. Aubrey. A large chamber-lamp, standing on the table at the Airther end of the room, dif- fused a soft light,' rendering visible at a glance the silent and sad group collected round the bed, all with their eyes directed towards the venerable figure who lay upon it. Mr. Aubrey sat beside his wife close to his mother, and taking her white emaciated hand into his own, leaned down and kissed it. She seemed dozing ; but his action appeared to rouse her for a moment. Presently she fixed her eye upon him — its expression, the TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 277 while, slowly but perceptibly changing, and exciting Strange feelings within him. He trembled, and removed not liis eyes from hers. He turned very pale — for the whole expression of his mother's countenance, which was turned full towards him, was changing. Through the clouded windows of the felling fabric, behold 1 its long-imprisoned tenant, the sotjl, had arisen from its torpor, and was looking at him. Eeasou was reappearing. It was, indeed, his mother, and in her right mind, that was gazing at him. He scarcely breathed. At length surprise and apprehension yielded before a gush of tenderness and love. With what an unutterable look was his mother at that moment regarding him ! His lip quivered — his eye over- flowed — and, as he felt her fingers gently compressing his own, his tears fell down. Gently leaning forward, he kissed her cheek, and sank on one knee beside the bed. " Is it you, my son ?" said she, in a very low tone, but in her own voice, and it stirred up instantly a thousand fond recollections, almost overpower- ing him. He kissed her hand with fervent energy, but spoke not. She continued gazing at him with mingled solemnity and fondness. Her eye seemed brightening as it remained fixed upon him. Again she spoke in a very low but clear voice-^every thrilling word being heard by all around her — " Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern, — Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was ; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." It would be in vain to attempt to describe the manner in which these words were spoken, and which fell upon those who heard them as though they were listening to one from the dead. " My mother — ^my mother !" at length faltered Aubrey. " God bless thee, my son !" said she solemnly. " And Catherine, my daughter, God bless thee " she presently added, gently turning round her head towards the quarter whence a stifled sob issued from Miss Aubrey, who rose, trembling, and leaning over, kissed her mother. "Agnes, are you here — and your little ones? — God bless " Her voice got fainter, and her eyes closed. Mr. Whately gave her a few drops of ether, and she presently revived. " God hath been very good to you, madam," said Dr. Tatham, observing her eye flxed upon him, " to restore you thus to your children." " I have been long absent — long I I wake, my children, but to bid you farewell, forever, upon earth.'' "Say not so, my mother — my precious mother!" exclaimed her son, in vain endeavoring to suppress his emotions. " I do, my son. Weep not for me ; I am old, and am summoned away from among you." She ceased, as if from exhaustion ; and no one spoke for some minutes. " It may be that God hath roused me, as it were, from the dead, to com- fort my sorrowftil children with words of hope," said Mrs. Aubrey, with much more power and distinctness than before. " Hope ye, then, in God ; for ye shall yet praise him who is the health of your countenance, and your God !" " We will remember, my mother, your words," faltered her son. 278 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " Yes, my son — if days of darkness be at hand "—she ceased. Again Mr. Whately placed to her whitfe lips a glass with some rcTiving fluid — ^look- ing ominously at Mr. Aubrey, as he found that she continued insensible. Miss Aubrey sobbed audibly ; indeed all present were powerfully affected. Again Mrs. Aubrey revived, and swallowed a few drops of wine-and- water. A heavenly serenity diffused itself over her emaciated features. " We shall meet again, my loves 1 I can no longer see you with the eyes of" — Mr. Whately, observing a sudden change, came nearer to her. " Peace I Peace !" she murmured almost inarticulately. A dead silence ensued, interrupted only by smothered sobs. Her children sank on their knees, and buried their faces in their hands, trembling. Mr. Whately made a silent signal to Dr. Tatham that life had ceased — that the beloved spirit had passed away. " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the name of the Lord !" said Dr. Tatham, with tremulous solemnity. Mrs. Aubrey and Miss Aubrey, no longer able to restrain their feelings, wept bitterly, and, overpowered by grief, were supported out of the room by Dr. Tatham and Mr. Aubrey. As soon as it was known that this venerable lady was no more, tmiversal reverence was testified for her memory, and sympathy for the afflicted sur- vivors, by even those, high and low, in the remoter parts of the neighbor- hood, who had no personal acquaintance with the family. Two or three days afterwards, the undertaker, who had received orders from Mr; Aubrey to provide a simple and inexpensive funeral, submitted to him a list of more than thirty names of the nobility and gentry of the county, who had sent to him to know whether it would be agreeable to the family for them to be allowed to attend Mrs. Aubrey's remains to the grave. After much consideration, Mr. Aubrey accepted of this spontaneous tribute of respect to the memory of his mother. It was a memorable and melancholy day on which the interment took place — one never to be forgotten at Yatton. What can be more chilling than the gloomy bustle of a great funeral, espe- cially in the country, and when the deceased is one whose memory is enshrined in the holiest feelings of all who knew her ? What person was there, for miles around, who could not speak of the courtesies, the chari- ties, the goodness of Madam Aubrey ? When the ear heard her, then it blessed her; and when the eye saw her, it gave wit- ness to her Because she delivered the poor that cried, and the Mherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon her, and she caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. She was eyes to the blind, and feet was she to the lame. She was a mother to the poor. Pale as death, the chief mourner, wrapped in his black cloak, is step- ping into the mourning-coach. No one speaks to him. His face is buried in his handkerchief ; his heart seems breaking. He thinks of her whose dear dust is before him ; then of the beloved beings whom he has left alone in their agony till his return — his wife and sister. The procession is moving slowly on. Long, silent rows of the tenantry and villagers, old and young, male and female — not a dry eye among them, nor a syllable TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. 279 spoken — stand on each side of the way; no sound heard but of horses' feet, and wheels crushing along the wet gravel — for the day is gloomy and in- clement. As they quit the gates, carriage after carriage follows in the rear, and the sorrowful crowd increases around them. Many have in their hands the Bibles and Prayer-hooks which had been given them by her who now lies in yonder hearse ; and a few can recollect the day when the late lord of Yatton led her along from the church to the Hall, his young and blooming bride — in pride and joy— and they are now going to lay her beside him again 1 They are met at the entrance of the little churchyard by good Dr. Tatham, in his surpHce, bareheaded, and with book in hand ; with full eye and quivering lip he slowly precedes the body into the church. His voice frequently trembles, and sometimes he pauses while reading the service. Now they are standing bareheaded at the vault's mouth — the last sad rites are being performed, and probably as is thinking the chief mourner, over the last of his race who will rest in that tomb ! Long after the solemn ceremony was over, the little churchyard re- mained filled with mournful groups of villagers and tenants, who pressed forward to the dark mouth of the vault, to take their last look at the coffin which contained the remains of her whose memory would long live in all their hearts. " Ah, dear old madam," quoth poor Jonas Higgs to himself, with a sigh, as he finished his dreary day's labors, by temporarily closing up the mouth of the vault ; " they might have turned thee by-and- by out of yonder HaU, but they shall not touch thee here /" Thus died and was buried Madam Aubrey ; and she is not yet forgotten. How desolate seemed the Hall the next morning to the bereaved in- mates, as, dressed in deep mourning, they met at the cheerless breakfest- table. Aubrey kissed his wife and sister, who could hardly answer his brief inquiries. The gloom occasioned throughout the HaU for the last ten days, by the windows being constantly darkened — now that the blinds were drawn up — had given way to a staring light and distinctness, which almost staxtled and offended the eyes of those whose hearts were dark with sorrow as ever. Every object reminded them of the absence of one — whose chair stood empty in its accustomed place. There, also, was her Bible, on the little roimd table near the window. The mourners seemed relieved by the entrance by-and-by of the children ; but they were also in mourning I Let us, however, withdraw from this scene of suffering, where every object, every recollection, every association, causes the wounded heart to bleed afresh. Great troubles seem coming upon them ; and now that they have buried their dead out of their sight, and when time shall have begun to pour his balm into their present smarting wounds, I doubt not that they wiU look those troubles in the face calmly and with fortitude, not forgetful of the last words of her for whom they now mourn so bitterly, and whom, beloved and venerable being 1 God hath mercifully taken away from evil days that are to come. After much consideration, they resolved to go on the ensuing Sunday morning to church, where neither Mrs. Aubrey nor Kate had been since the illness of her mother. The little church was crowded. Almost every 280 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. one present, besides wearing a saddened countenance, exhibited some out- ward token of respect in their dress — some badge of mourning — such as their little means admitted of. The pulpit and reading-desk were hung in blade, as was also Mr. Aubrey's pew — an object of deep interest to the congregation, who expected to see at least some member of the family at the Hall. They were not disappointed. A little before Dr. Tatham took his place in the reading-desk, the well-known sound of the family carriage wheels was heard, as it drew up before the gate, and presently Mr. Aubrey appeared at the church door, with his wife and sister on either arm, all of them, of course, in the deepest mourning — Mrs. and Miss Aubrey's counte- nances concealed beneath their long crape veils. For some time after taking their seats, they seemed oppressed with emotion, evidently weeping. Mr. Aubrey, however, exhibited great composure, though his countenance bore traces of the suffering he had undergone. Mrs. Aubrey seldom rose from her seat; but Kate stood up from time to time with the rest of the congregation; her white handkerchief, however, might have been seen frequently raised to her eyes, beneath her black veil. As the service went on, she seemed .to have struggled with some success against her feel- ings. To relieve herself for a moment from its oppressive closeness, she gently raised her veil, and thus for a few minutes exhibited a countenance which, though pale and agitated, was inexpressibly beautiful. She could not, however, long bear to face a congregation every one of whom she felt to be looking on her, and those beside her, with tearful eyes, and rather cfuickly drew down her veil, without again removing it. There was one person present on whom the brief glimpse of her beauty had produced a sudden, deep, and indelible impression. As he gazed at her, the color gradually deserted his cheek, and his eye remained fixed upon her even after she had drawn down her veil. He experienced emotions such as he had never known before. So thai ivas Miss Audrey ! Mr. Gammon — for he it was, and he had gone thither under the expec- tation of seeing, for the first time, some of the Aubrey family — generally passed for a cold-blooded person ; and in fact few men living had more control over their feelings, or more systematically checked any manifestar tions of them ; but there was something in the person and circumstances of Miss Aubrey — ^for by a hurried inquiry of the person next to him he learned that it was she — ^which excited new feelings in him. Her slightest motion his eye watched with intense eagerness; and faint, half-formed schemes, purposes, and hopes, passed in rapid confusion through his mind, as he foresaw that circumstances would hereafter arise by means of which — "Good heavens 1 how very — very beautiful she isl" said he to himself, as, the service over, her graceful figure, following her brother and his wife with slow sad step, appioached the pew in which he was standing, on her way to the door. He felt a sort of cold shudder as her black dress rustled past, actually touching him. What was he doing and meditating against that lovely being ? And for whom — disgusting reptile I — for Titmouse ? He almost blushed from a conflict of emotions, as he followed almost imme- diately after Miss Aubrey, never losing sight of her tUI her brother had TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 281 handed her into the carriage, he getting in after her, and they drove off towards the Hall. The reader will not be at a loss to account for the presence of Mr. Gam- mon on this occasion, nor to connect it with an impending trial at the approaching York assizes. As he walked back to Grilston to his solitary dinner, he was lost in thought ; and on arriving at the inn, repaired at once to his room, where he found a copy of the Simday Flash, which had, according to orders, been sent to him from town, under his assumed name, " Gibson." He ate but little, and that mechanically ; and seemed to feel, for once, little or no interest in his newspaper. He had never paid the least attention to the eulogia upon Miss Aubrey of the idiot Titmouse, nor of Snap, of whom he entertained but a very little higher opinion than of Titmouse. One thing was clear, that from that moment Miss Aubrey formed a new element in Mr. Gammon's calculations ; and for aught I know, may occasion different results from those originally contemplated by that calm and crafty personage. As it proved a moonlight night, he resolved at once to set about the im- portant business which had brought him into Yorkshire, and for that pur- pose started about eight o'clock on his walk to Yattou. About ten o'clock he might have been seen gliding noiselessly into the churchyard, like a dangerous snake. The moon continued to shine — and at intervals with brightness sufficient for his purpose, which was simply to reconnoitre, as closely as possible, the little sequestered locality — ^to ascertain what it might contain, and what were its caipaMtities. At length he approached the old yew-tree, against the huge trunk of which he leaned with folded arms, apparently in a reverie. Hearing a noise as of some one opening the gate by which he had entered, he glided farther into the gloom behind him ; and turning his head in the direction whence the sound came, he beheld some one entering the churchyard. His heart beat quickly, and he sus- pected that he had been watched ; yet there was surely no harm in being seen, at ten o'clock at night, looking about him in a country churchyard 1 It was a gentleman who entered, dressed in deep mourning ; and Gammon quickly recognized in him Mr. Aubrey — the brother of her whose beauti- ful image still shone before his mind's eye. What could he be wanting there at that time of night? Gammon was not kept long in doubt, for the stranger slowly bent his steps towards a large high tomb, in fact the cen- tral object, next to the yew-tree in the churchyard, and stood gazing at it in silence for some time. " That is, no doubt, where Mrs. Aubrey was buried the other day," thought Gammon, watching the movements of the stranger, who presently raised his handkerchief to his eyes, and for some moments seemed indul- ging in great grief. Gammon distinctly heard the sound of deep sighing. "He must have been very fond of her," thought Mr. Gammon. "Well, if we succeed, the excellent old lady will have escaped a great deal of trouble — that's all 1" " If we mceeed," he inwardly repeated, after a long pause I That reminded him of what he had for a few moments lost sight of, namely, his own object in coming thither ; and he felt a sudden chill of remorse, which increased upon him till he almost trembled, as his eye con- 282 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. tinned fixed on Mr. Anbrey, and he thought also of Miss Aubrey, and the misery, the utter ruin, into which he was seeking to plunge them both — the unhallowed means which they — ^which^ — if necessary — he — contem- plated resorting to for that purpose I Gammon's condition was becoming every moment more serious; for VIBTUB, in the shape of Miss Aubrey, began to shine momentarily in more and more radiant loveliness before him, and he almost felt an incli- nation to sacrifice every person connected with the enterprise in which he was engaged, if it would give him a chance of winning the favor of Miss Aubrey. Presently, however, Mr. Aubrey, evidently heaving a deep sigh, bent his steps slowly back towards the old gate, and quitted the church- yard. Gammon watched his figure out of sight, and then, for the first time since his appearance, breathed freely. Believed from the pressure of his presence. Gammon began to take calmer and juster views of his position ; and he reflected, that if he pushed on the present affair to a successful issue, he should be much more likely than by prematurely ending it to gain his objects. He therefore resumed his survey of the scene around him, which presented appearances highly satisfactory, judging from the expression now and then animating his countenance. At length he wan- dered round to the other end of the church, where a crumbling wall, half covered with ivy, indicated that there had formerly stood some building apparently of earlier date than the church. Such was the fact. Gammon soon found himself standing in a sort of enclosure, which had once been the site of an old chapel. And here he had not been long making his ob- servations before he achieved a discovery of so extraordinary a nature — one so unlikely, under the circumstances, to have happened— one so calculated to baffle ordinary calculations concerning the course of events — that the reader may well disbelieve what I am going to tell him, and treat it as absurdly improbable. In short, not to keep him in suspense. Gammon positively discovered evidence of the death of Harry Dreddlington in his father's lifetime, by means of just such a looking tombstone as he had long imaged to himself and as he had resolved that old Quirk should have got prepared before the cause came into court. He almost stumbled over it. 'Twas an old slanting stone, scarcely a foot above the ground, partly cov- ered with moss, and partly hid by rubbish and long damp grass. The moon shone brightly enough to enable Gammon, kneeling down, to deci- pher, beyond all doubt, what was requisite to establish that part of the case which had been wanting. For a moment or two he was disposed to imagine that he was dreaming. When, at length, he took out his pencil and paper, his hands trembled so much that he felt some difiSculty in making an exact copy of the inestimable inscription. Having done this, he drew a long breach as he replaced the pencil and paper in his pocket- book, and almost fancied he heard a whispering sound in the air — " Ver- dict for the plaintiflf." Quitting the churchyard, he walked back to Gril- ston at a much quicker rate than that at which he had come, his discovery having wonderfully elated him, and pushed all other thoughtrentirely out of his mind. But, thought he, doubtless the other side are aware of the existence of this tombstone — they can hardly be supposed ignorant of it ; TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 283 they must have looked up their evidence as well as we — and their atten- tion has been challenged to the existence or non-existence of proof of the lime of the death of Harry Dreddlington. Well, if they are aware of it, they know that it cuts the ground from under them, and turns their con- veyance, on which, doubtless, they are relying, into waste paper ; if they are not, and are under the impression that that deed is valid and effectual, our proof will fall on them like a thunderbolt. " Heavens," — he held his breath, and stopped in the middle of the road — " how immensely important is this little piece of evidence I Why, if they knew of it — why, in Heaven's name, is it there still? What easier than to have got rid of it? — why, they may still : what can that stupid fellow Parkinson have been about ? Yet, is it because it has become unimportant, on account of their being in possession of other evidence ? What can they have to set against so plain a case as ours is, with this evidence? Gad, I'll not lose one day's time; but I'll have half-a-dozen competent witnesses to inspect, and speak to that same tombstone in court." Such were some of the thoughts which passed through his mind as he hastened homeward ; and on his arrival, late as it was — only the yawning hostler having sat up to let him in — ^he wrote off a letter to Mr. Quirk, and made it into a parcel to go by the mail in the morning, acquainting him with the amazing discovery which he had just made, and urging Mr. Quirk to set about getting up the briefe for the trial without delay ; he himself (Gammon) purposing to stop at Grilston a day or two longer, to complete one or two other arrangements of an important nature. As soon as Mr. Quirk had read this letter, he devoutly thanked God for his goodness ; and, hurrying to his strong box, unlocked it, took out a small sealed packet, and committed it to the flames. Mr. Aubrey, as soon as he had recovered from the first shock occasioned by Mr. Parkinson's communication of the proceedings against him, set about acquainting himself, as minutely as he could, with the true state of the case. He had requested that gentleman to obtain from one of the counsel in London, Mr. Crystal, a full account of the case for his (Mr. Aubrey's) own guidance ; and on obtaining a remarkably clear and lumi- nous statement, and also consulting the various authorities cited in it— ■ such, at least, as could be supplied to him by Mr. Parkinson — the vigorous practical understanding of Mr. Aubrey, aided by his patient application, soon mastered the whole case, and enabled him to appreciate his perilous position. Since he could derive no title through the conveyance of Harry Dreddlington, which had been got in by Geoffrey Dreddlington, owing to the death of the former in his father's lifetime (see App.) — as Mr. Aubrey understood from his advisers could be easily proved by the present claimant of the property — the right of accession of Geoffrey Dreddlington's descend- ants depended entirely upon the fact whether or not Stephen Dreddlington had really died without issue ; and as to that, certain anxious and exten- sive inquiries instituted by Messrs. Eunnington and Mr. Parkinson, in pursuance of the suggestions of their able and experienced counsel, had led them to entertain most alarming doubts concerning the right of Geoffrey's descendants to have entered into possession. By what means his opponents had obtained their clue to the state of his title, neither Mr. 284 TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. Aubrey nor any of his advisers could frame a plausible conjecture. It was certainly possible that Stephen Dreddlington, who was known to have been a man, like his uncle Harry, of wild and eccentric habits, and to have been supposed to leave no issue, might have married privately some woman of inferior station, and left issue by her, who, living in obscurity, and at a distance from the seat of the femily property, could have no opportunity of inquiring into or ascertaining their position with reference to the estates, tin some acute and enterprising attorneys, like Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, happening to get hold of them, and family papers in their posses- sion, had taken up their case. When, with impressions such as these, Mr. Aubrey perused and re-perused the opinions of the conveyancer given on the occasion of his (Mr. Aubrey's) marriage, he was confounded at the supineness and indifference which he had even then ezhibited, and felt disposed now greatly to overvalue the importance of every adverse circum- stance. The boldness, again, and systematic energy with which the case of the claimant was prosecuted, and the eminent legal opinions alleged, and with every appearance of truth, to concur in his favor, afforded addi- tional grounds for rational apprehension. He looked the danger, however, full in the face, and as far as lay in his power, as a conscientious man, pre- pared for the evil day which might so soon come upon him. Certain extensive and somewhat costly alterations which he had been on the point of commencing at Yattou he abandoned. But for the earnest interference of friends, he would at once have given up his establishment in Grosvenor street, and applied for the Chiltern Hundreds, in order to retire from political life. Considering the possibility of his soon being declared the wrongful holder of the property, he contracted his expenditure as fer as he could, without challenging unnecessary public attention, and paid into his banker's hands all his Christmas rents, sacredly resolving to abstain from drawing out one farthing of what might soon be proved to belong to another. At every point occurred the dreadfiil question — ^if I am declared never to have been the rightful owner of the property, how am I to dis- charge my frightful liabilities to him who is ? Mr. Aubrey had nothing except the Yatton property. He had but an insignificant sum in the ftmds ; Mrs. Aubrey's settlement was out of lands at Yatton, as also was the little income bequeathed to Kate by her father. Could anything be conceived more dreadful, under these circumstances, than the mere danger — the slightest probability — of their being deprived of Yatton ? — and with a debt of at the very least sixty thousand potjiros, due to him who had been wrongfully kept out of his property ? That was the millstone which seemed to drag them all to the bottom. Against thai, what could the kind- ness of the most generous friends, what could his own most desperate exertions, avail ? All this had poor Aubrey constantly before his eyes, together with — his wife, his children, his sister. What was to become of them f It was long before the real nature and extent of his danger became known amongst his friends and neighbors. When, however, they were made aware of it, an extraordinary interest and sympathy were excited through- out almost the whole county. Whenever his attorney, Mr. Parkinson, appeared in public, he was besieged by anxious inquiries concerning his TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 285 distinguished client, whose manly modesty and fortitude, under the press- ure of his sudden and almost unprecedented difficulty and peril, endeared him more than ever to all who had an opportunity of appreciating his position. With what intense and absorbing interest were the ensuing assizes looked for 1 — At length they arrived. The ancient city of York exhibited, on the commission day of the Spring Assizes for the year 18 — , the usual scene of animation and excitement. The High SheritF, attended by an imposing retinue, went out to meet the Judges, and escorted them, amidst the shrill clangor of trumpets, to the Castle, where the commission was opened with the usual formalities. The Judges were Lord Widdrington, the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, and Mr. Justice Gray ley, a puisne judge of the same court — ^both admirable lawyers. The former was possessed of the more powerful intel- lect. He was what may be called a great scientific lawyer, referring every- thing to prirmple, as extracted irom precedent. Mr. Justice Grayley was almost unrivalled in his knowledge of the detcuUs of the law ; his governing maxim being itu lex seripta. Here his knowledge was equally minute and accurate, and readily applied to every case brought before him. Never sat there upon the bench a more painstaking judge — one more anxious to do right equally in great things as in small. Both were men of rigid integrity ; 'tis, indeed, a glorious thing to be able to challenge the inquiry — when, for centuries, have other than men of rigid integrity sat upon the English Bench ? Lord Widdrington, however, in temper was stem, arbitrary and overbearing, and his manners were disfigured not a little by coarseness ; while his companion was a man of exemplary amiability, aflfability and forbearance. Lord Widdrington presided at the Civil Court (in which, of course, would come on the important cause in which we are interested), and Mr. Justice Grayley in the Criminal Court. Soon after the sitting of the court, on the ensuing morning — "Will your lordship allow me," rose and inquired the sleek, smiling and portly Mr. Subtle — dead silence prevailing as soon as he had mentioned the name of the cause about which he was inquiring — " to mention a cause of Doe on the demise of TUmmtse v. Jolteir — a special jury cause, in which there are a great many witnesses to be examined on both sides— and to ask that a day may be fixed for it to come on ?" "Whom do you appear for, Mr. Subtle?" inquired his lordship. " For the plaintiff, my lord." " And who appears for the defendant?" " The Attorney-General leads for the defendant, my lord," replied Mr. Sterling, who, with Mr. Crystal, was also retained for the defendant. "Well, perhaps you can agree between yourselves upon a day, and in the meantime similar arrangements may be made for any other special jury causes that may require it." After due consultation, Monday week was agreed upon by the parties, and fixed by his lordship, for the trial of the cause. During the Sunday preceding it, York was crowded with per- sons of the highest distinction from all parts of the county, who felt inter- ested in the result of the great cause of the assizes. About mid-day a dusty travelling carriage-and-four dashed into the streets from the London road, 286 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. and drove up to the principal inn ; it contained the Attorney-General (who just finished reading his brief as he entered York) and his clerk. The Attorney-General was a man of striking and highly intellectual counte- nance ; but he looked, on alighting, somewhat fatigued with his long jour- ney. He was a man of extraordinary natural talents, and also a first-rate lawyer — one whose right to take the woolsack, whenever it should become vacant, was recognized by all the profession. His professional celebrity, and his coming down " gpeeial^' on the present occasion, added to the cir- cumstance of his being well known to be a personal friend of his client, Mr. A ubrey — whence it might be inferred that his great powers would be exerted to their utmost — was well calculated to enhance the interest, if that were possible, of the occasion which had brought him down at so great an expense, and to sustain so heavy a responsibility as the conduct of a cause of such magnitude. He came to lead against a formidable opponent. Mr. Subtle was the leader of the Northern circuit — a man of matchless tact and practical saga- city, and consummately skillful in the conduct of a cause. The only thing he ever looked at was the vebdict, to the gaining of which he directed all his energies, and sacrificed every other consideration. As for display, he despised it. A sipeech, as such, was his aversion. He entered into a friendly but exquisitely crafty conversation with the jury ; for he was so quick at perceiving the efiect of his address on the mind of each of the twelve, and dexterous in accommodating himself to what he had detected to be the passing mood of each, that they individually felt as if they were all the while reasoning with and being convinced by him. His placid, smil- ing, handsome countenance, his gentlemanly bearing and insinuating address, full of good-natured cheerful confidence in his cause, were irresist- ible. He flattered, he soothed, he fascinated the jury, producing an im- pression upon their minds which they often felt indignant at his opponent's attempting to efface. In fact, as a nisi prms leader he was unrivalled, as well in stating as in arguing a case, as well in examining as cross-examin- ing a witness. It required no little practical experience to form an ade- quate estimate of Mr. Subtle's skill in the management of a cause ; for he did everything with such a smiling, careless, unconcerned air, equally in the great pinch and strain of a case as in the pettiest details, that you would be apt to suspect that none but the easiest and most straightforward cases fell to his lot ! Titmouse, Titmouse, methinks the fates favored you in assigning to you Mr. Subtle. Next came Mr. Quicksilvee, who had received what may be called a muffling retainer. What a contrast was he to Mr. Subtle 1 He was of a vast capacity, and versatile powers. In grasp and strength of intellect, Mr. Subtle was a mere boy in comparison of him. His acquirements were pro- digious, and his memory kept them always as it were under his eye. He was also one of the greatest orators of the age — equally feared and admired in the House of Commons. In the glare and multiplicity of his genius and knowledge, more extensive knowledge of law than he was given credit for was eclipsed and lost, and it was feared that he disdained the details of TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 287 his profession. Still, it would not do to allow him to be retained on the otlier side I So he was secured for the plaintiff, in the hope that, like a wild elephant, he would be, in a manner, held in check by Mr. Subtle and Mr. Lynx. Lynx possessed the qualities which his name would suggest to you. I have partly described him already. He was a man of minute accuracy ; and " got up" every case in which he was engaged as if his life had depended on the result. Nothing escaped him. He kept his mind constantly even with the current of the cause. He was a man to steer a leader, if ever that leader should get for an instant on the wrong tack, or be uncertain as to his course. His suggestion and interference — rare, indeed, with such a man as Mr. Subtle, incessant with Mr. Quicksilver — were always worth attending to, and consequently received with deference. For Mr. Aubrey also was retained a formidable " bar." Mr. Attorney- General was a man much superior in point of intellect and legal knowledge to Mr. Subtle. His mind was distinguished by its tranquil power. He had a rare and invaluable faculty of arraying before his mind's eye all the facts and bearings of the most intricate case, and contemplating them, as it were, not successively, but simultaneously. His perception was quick as light ; and, at the same time — rare, most rare accompaniment ! — his judg- ment sound, his memory signally retentive. Inferior, possibly, to Mr. Subtle in rapid and delicate appreciation of momentary advantages, he wag sagacious, where Mr. Subtle was only ingenious. Mr. Attorney-General had as much weight with the judges as Mr. Subtle with the jury. With the former there was a candor and straightforwardness — a dignified sim- plicity — which insensibly won the confidence of the judge ; who, on the other hand, felt himself obliged to be ever on his guard against the slip- pery sophistries of Mr. Subtle, whom he thus got to regard with constant suspicion. Mr. Sterling, the second counsel for the defendant, was a king's counsel, and a rival of Mr. Subtle upon the circuit. He was a man of great power ; and on important occasions, no man at the bar could acquit himself with more distinction. As a speaker, he was eloquent and im- pressive, ' perhaps deficient in vivacity ; but he was a man of clear and powerfiil intellect; prompt in seizing the bearings of a case; a capital lawyer; and possessing, even on the most trying occasions, imperturbable self-possession. yix. Ceystai, with some faults of manner and bearing, was an honora- ble, high-minded man ; clear-sighted and strong-headed: an accurate and ready lawyer; vigilant and acute. See, {hen, the combatants in this memorable encounter: for Tilmouse — Mr. Subtle, Mr. Quicksilvee, Mr. Lynx ; for Mr. Avhrey — Mr. Attor- stey-Genebal, Mr. Steelino, Mr. Crystal. The consultation of each party was long and anxious. About eight o'clock on the Sunday evening, at Mr. Subtle's lodgings, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, accompanied by Mr. Mortmain, whom they had brought down to watch the case, made their appearance shortly after Mr. Quicksilver and Mr. Lynx. " Our case seems complete now," said Mr. Subtle, casting a penetrating 288 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. and most significant glance at Messrs. Quirk and Gammon, and then at his juniors, to whom, before the arrival of their clients and Mr. Mortmain, he had been mentioning the essential link which, a month before, he had pointed out as missing, and the marvellous good fortune by which they had been able to supply it at the eleventh hour. " That tombstone's a godsend, Subtle, isn't it ?" said Qiiicksilver, with a grim smile. Lynx neither smiled nor spoke. He was a very matter of- fact person. So as the case came out clear and nice in court, he cared about nothing more ; that result obtained, he felt that he should be functus officio/ But whatever might be the insinuation or suspicion implied in the observation of Mr. Subtle, the reader must by this time be well aware how little it was warranted by the facts. " I shall open it very quietly," said Mr. Subtle, putting into his pocket his penknife, with which he had been paring his nails, while Mr. Quick- silver had been talking very fast. " What do you think, Mr. Lynx ? Had I better allude boldly to the conveyance executed by Harry Dreddlington, and which becomes useless as soon as we prove his death in his father's lifetime?" " Ah I there's that blessed tombstone again," interposed Quicksilver, with a sarcastic smile. " Or," resumed Mr. Subtle, " content myself with barely making out our pedigree, and let the conveyance of Harry Dreddlington come from the other side ?" "i think that perhaps the latter would be the quieter and safer course," replied Lynx. " By the way, gentlemen," said Mr. Lynx suddenly, addressing Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, " how do we come to know anything about the mortgage executed by Harry Dreddlington 7" " Oh 1 that, you know," replied Quirk, quickly, " we first got scent of in Mr. " Here he paused suddenly, and turned quite red. " It was suggested," said Gammon, calmly, " by one of the gentlemen whose opinions we have taken in the case — I forget by whom — ^that, from. some recital, it was probable that there existed such an instrument, and that put us on making the inquiry." " Nothing more likely," added Mortmain, " than that it, or an abstract or minute of it, should get into Stephen Dreddlington's hands." "Ah, well, well!" said Mr. Subtle, shrugging his shoulders, "I must say there's rather an air of mystery about the case. But — about that tomb^ stone — what sort of witnesses will speak " " Will that evidence be requisite ?" inquired Lynx, " in the plaintifi^s case ? All we shall have to do will be to prove the fact that Harry died without issue, of which there's satisfactory evidence ; and as to the time of his death, that will become material only if they put in the conveyance of Harry." " True — true ; ah ! I'll turn that over in my mind. Eely upon it, I'll give Mr. Attorney-General as little to lay hold of as possible. Thank you. Lynx, for the hint. Now, gentlemen," said he, turning to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, " one other question — What Mnd of looking people are the TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 289 witnesses who prove the later steps of the pedigree of Mr. Titmouse ? Ee- spectable — eh ? You know a good deal wUl depend on the credit which they may obtain with the jury 1" " They're very decent, creditable persons, you'll find, sir," said Gammon. " Good, good. Who struck the special jury ?" "We did, sir." " Well, I must say that was a very prudent step for you to take, con- sidering the rank in life and circmnstances of the respective parties I However, to be sure, if you didn't, tliey would — so — well; good-night, gentlemen, good-night." So the consultation broke up; and Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap returned home to their inn in a serious and anxious mood. " You're a marvellous prudent person, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, in a somewhat fierce whisper, as they walked along ; " I suppose you would have gone on to explain the little matter of Steggars, and so have had our briefs thrown at our heads " " Well, well," grunted Quirk, " that was a slip I" Here they reached their inn. Titmouse was staying there ; and in Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap's absence, he had got drunk, and was quarrelling under the arch- way with " Boots ;" so they ordered him to bed, they themselves sitting up till a late hour. The consultation at the Attorney-General's had taken place about three o'clock in the afternoon, within an hour after his arrival, and had been attended by Messrs. Sterling, Crystal, and Mansfield — by Mr. Eunnington, and Mr. Parkinson, and by Mr. Aubrey, whom the Attorney-General re- ceived with the most earnest expressions of sympathy and friendship, listening to every question and every observation of his with the utmost deference. " It would be both idle and unkind to disguise from you, Aubrey," said he, "that our position is somewhat precarious. It depends entirely on the chance we may have of breaking down the plaintiff's case, for we have but a slender one of our own. I suppose they can bring proof of the death of Harry Dreddlington in his father's lifetime?" " Oh, yes, sir 1" answered Mr. Parkinson, " there is an old tombstone behind Yatton church which establishes that fact beyond all doubt : and a week or two ago no fewer than five or six persons had been carefully in- specting it ; doubtless they wiU be called as witnesses to-morrow." "I feared as much. Then are ours no more than watching briefe. Depend upon it, they would not have carried on the affair with so high a hand if they had not pretty firm ground under foot I Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap are tolerably well known in town — not OTer-scrupulous — eh, Mr. Eunnington ?" " Indeed, Mr. Attorney, you are right. I don't doubt they are prepared to go all lengths." " Well, we'U sift their evidence pretty closely, at any rate. So you really have reason to fear, as you intimated when you entered the room, that they have valid evidence of Stephen Dreddlington having left issue ?" "Mr. Snap told me," said Mr. Parkinson, "this morning, that they 19 290 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. would prove issue of Stephen Dreddlington, and issue of that issue, as clean as a whistle — that was his phrase." " Ay, ay — ^but we mustn't take all for gospel that he would say," replied the Attorney-General, smiling sarcastically. " They've got two houses filled with witnesses, I imderstand," said Mr. Eunuington. " Do they seem Yorkshire people, or strangers ?" "Why, most of them that I have seen," replied Parkinson, "seem strangers." " Ah, they will prove, I suppose," said the Attorney-General, " the later steps of the pedigree, when Stephen Dreddlington married at a distance from his native county." They then entered into a foil and minute examination of the case ; after which, — " Well," said the Attorney-General, evidently fetigued with his long journey, and rising from his chair, " we must trust to what will turn up in the chapter of accidents to-morrow. I shall be expected to dine with the bar to-day," he added; "but immediately after dinner, say at half- past seven o'clock, I shall be here and at your service, if anything should be required." Then the consultation broke up. Mr. Aubrey had, at their earnest entreaty, brought Mrs. Aubrey and Kate from Yatton on Saturday ; for they declared themselves unable to bear the dreadful suspense in which they should be left there. Yielding, therefore, to these surely reasonable wishes, he had engaged private lodgings at the outskirts of the town. On quitting the consultation, which, without at the same time affecting over- strictness, he had regretted being fixed for Sunday — but the necessity of the case appeared to warrant it — ^he repaired to the magnificent kunstee, where the evening prayers were being read, and where were Mrs. Aubrey and Kate. The prayers were being chanted as he entered ; and he was conducted to a stall nearly opposite to where those whom he loved so fondly were standing. The psajms allotted for the evening were those in which the royal sufierer, David, was pouring forth the deepest sorrows of his heart ; and their appropriateness to Mr. Aubrey's state of mind, added to the efiect produced by the melting melody in which they were conveyed to his ears, excited in him, and, he perceived, also in those opposite, the deepest emotion. The glorious pile was beginning to grow dusky with the stealing shadows of evening ; and the solemii and sublime strains of the organ, during the playing of the anthem, filled those present, who had any pretensions to sensibility, with mingled feelings of tenderness and awe. Those in whom we are so deeply interested felt at once subdued and ele- vated ; and as they quitted the darkening labric, through which the pealing tones of the organ were yet reverberating, they could not help inquiring, Should they ever enter it again, — and in what altered circumstances might it be? To return, however — ^though it is, indeed, like descending from the holy mountain into the bustle and hubbub of the city at its foot — Mr. Parkinson, being most unexpectedly, and as he felt it unfortunately, summoned to Grilston that afternoon, in order to send up some deeds of a distinguished client to London, for the purpose of immediately effecting a mortgage, set TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 291 off in a post-chaise, at top speed, in a very unenviable frame of mind ; and by seven o'clock was seated in his office at Grilston, busily turning over a great number of deeds and papers, in a large tin case, with the words " Eight Honorable the Earl of Yelverton " painted on the outside. Hav- ing turned over almost everything inside, and found all that he wanted, he was going to toss back again all the deeds which were not requisite for his immediate purpose, when he happened to see one lying at the very bottom which he had not before observed. It was not a large, but an old deed, and he took it up and hastily examined it. We have seen a piece of unexpected good fortune on the part of Gam- mon and his client ; and the reader will not be disappointed at finding something of a similar kind be&Uing Mr. Aubrey, even at the eleventh hour. Mr. Parkinson's journey, which he had execrated a hundred times over as he came down, produced a discovery which made him tremble all over with agitation and delighted excitement, and begin to look upon it as almost owing to an interference of Providence. The deed which he looked at bore an indorsement of the name of " Dreddlington." After a hasty glance over its contents, he tried to recollect by what accident a document belonging to Mr. Aubrey could have found its way into the box containing Lord Yelverton's deeds ; and it at length occurred to him that, some time before, Mr. Aubrey had proposed advancing several thou-r sand pounds to Lord Yelverton, on mortgage of a small portion of his lordship's property — but which negotiation had afterwards been broken off; that Mr. Aubrey's title-deeds happened to be at the same time open and loose in his office — and he recollected having considerable trouble in separating the respective documents which had got mixed together. This one, after all, had been by some accident overlooked, till it turned up in this most timely and extraordinary manner ! Having hastily effected the object which had brought him back to Grilston, he ordered a post-chaise and four, and within a quarter of an hour was thundering back, at top speed, on his way to York, which, the horses reeking and foaming, he reached a little after ten o'clock. He jumped out, with the precious deed in his pocket, the instant that his chaise door was opened, and ran off, without saying more than—" Pm gone to the Attorney-General's." This was heard by many passers-by and persons standing round ; and it spread far and wide that something of the utmost importance had transpired with reference to the great ejectment cause of Mr. Aubrey. Soon afterwards, messengers and clerks, belonging to Mr. Eunnington and Mr. Parkinson, were to be seen running to and fro, summoning Mr. Sterling, Mr. Crystal, Mr. Mansfield, and also Mr. Aubrey, to a second consultation at the Attorney-General's. About eleven o'clock they were all assembled. The deed which had occasioned all this excitement was one calculated indeed to produce that effect ; and it fiUed the minds of all present with astonish- ment and delight. It was, in a word, a deed of confibmation by old Deeddlington, the father of Harry Dreddlington, of the conveyance by the latter to Geoffrey Dreddlington, who, in the manner already mentioned to the reader, had got an assignment of that conveyance to himself. After the Attorney-General had satisfied himself as to the account to be given of 292 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. the deed — the custody whence it came, namely, the attorney for the de- fendant ; Mr. Parkinson undertaking to swear, without any hesitation, that whate-^er deeds of Mr. Aubrey's he possessed, he had taken from the muni- ment room at Yatton — the second consultation broke up. Mr. Aubrey, on hearing the nature and effect of the instrument explained by the At- torney-General and Mr. Mansfield— all his counsel, in short, concurring in opinion as to the triumphant effect which this instrument would produce on the morrow — may be pardoned for regarding it, in the excitement of the moment, as almost a direct interference of Providence. A few minutes before nine o'clock on the ensuing morning, the occa- sional shrill blasts of the trumpets announced that the judges were on their way to the castle, the approaches to which were crowded with carriages and pedestrians of a highly respectable appearance. As the castle clock finished striking nine. Lord Widdrington, in a short wig and plain black silk gown,* took his seat, and the swearing of the special jury corrunenced. The court was crowded almost to suffocation, aU the chief places being filled with persons of distinction in the county. The benches on each side of the judge were occupied by ladies, who — especially the Countess of Oldacre and Lady De la Zouch — evinced a painful degree of anxiety and excitement in their countenances and demeanor. The bar also mus- tered in great force, the crown court being guite deserted, although "a great murder case " was going on there. The civil court was on the pre- sent occasion the point of attraction, not only on account of the interesting nature of the case to be tried, but of the keen contest expected between the Attorney-General and Mr. Subtle. The former, as he entered — his com- manding features gazed at by many an anxious eye with hope, and a feeling that on his skill and learning depended that day the destination of the Yatton property — bowed to the judge, and then nodded and shook hands with several of the counsel nearest to him ; then he sat down, and his clerk having opened his bags, and taken out his huge brief, he began turning over its leaves with a cahn and attentive air, occasionally con- versing with his juniors. Every one present observed that the defendant's counsel and attorneys wore the confident looks of winning men, while their opponents, quick-sighted enough, also observed the circumstance, and looked, on that account alone, a shade more anxious than when they had entered the court. Mr. Subtle requested Gammon, whose ability he had soon detected, to sit immediately beneath him ; next to Gammon sat Quirk, then Snap, and beside him Mr. Titmouse, with a staring sky-blue flowered silk handkerchief round his neck, a gaudy waistcoat, a tight surtout, and white kid gloves. He looked exceedingly pale, and dared hardly inter- change a word with even Snap, who was just as irritable and excited as his senior partners. It was quickly known all over the court which was Tit- mouse. Mr. Aubrey scarcely showed himself in court all day, though he stood at the door near the bench, and could hear all that passed ; Lord De la Zouch and one or two other personal friends standing with him, engaged from time to time in anxious conversation. * When the Judges of Assize preside In the Ormim side {i. e., in the Criminal Court), they wear their scarlet and ermine robes, and full-bottomed wigs. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 293 The jury having been sworn, Mr. Lynx rose, and in a few hurried sen- tences, to the lay audience utterly unintelligible, intimated the nature of the pleadings in the cause. The Attorney-General then in a low tone re- quested that aU the witnesses might leave the court.* As soon as the little disturbance caused by this move had ceased, Mr. Subtle rose, and in a low but distinct tone said : — " May it please your lordship — gentlemen of the jury, — In this cause I have the honor to appear before you as counsel for the plaintiff, and I shall proceed to state, as briefly as I can, the nature of his case. It is impossible, gentlemen, that we should not be aware of the unusual interest excited by this cause, and which may be accounted for by the large estates in this county which are sought this day to be transferred to a comparative stranger, from the family who have long enjoyed them, and of whom I am anxious to say everything respectful ; for you will very soon find that the name on the record is that of only the nominal defend- ant ; and although all that is professed to be this day sought to be re- covered is a triQing portion of the property, your verdict will undoubtedly in effect decide the question as to the true ownership and enjoyment of the large estates now held by the gentleman who is the substantial defendant — I mean Mr. Aubrey, the member of Parliament for the borough of Yatton ; for whatever answer he might make to an action brought to recover his whole estate, he must make upon the present occasion." Aware of the watchful and formidable opponent who would in due time answer him, and also of himself being entitled to the general reply — to the last word in the event of his opponent offering evidence — Mr. Subtle proceeded to state the nature of the plaintiff's case with the utmost brevity and clearness. Scarcely any sound was heard but that of the pens of the short-hand writers, and of the counsel taking their notes. Mr. Subtle, having handed up two or three copies of the pedigree which he held in his hand to the judge, the jury, and his opponents, pointed out with distinctness and pre- cision every link in the chain of evidence which he intended to adduce ; and having done this, presenting as few salient points of attack to his opponent as he possibly could, he sat down, professing his entire ignorance of what case would be set up in answer to that which he had opened. He had not been on his legs quite half an hour, and when he ceased, how he disappointed every one present except the judge and the bar I Instead of a speech apparently befitting so great an occasion — impressive and elo- quent — there had been a brief, diy statement of a few uninteresting facts, of dates, of births, deaths, marriages, registries, entries, inscriptions, deeds, wills — without a single touch of feeling or ray of eloquence. The momen- tary feeling of disappointment in the lay audience, however, — almost all of whom, it may easily be believed, were in the interest of the Aubreys, — quickly yielded to one of satisfaction and relief, as they thought they might regard so meagre a speech as heralding as meagre a case. As soon * This is a step often taken in trials of importance, when the counsel for either party apprehends danger to his client, from his opponent's witneaaes remaining in court, and hearing all the evidence which they are afterwards called to contradict. Either counsel has a right thus to exclude witnesses. The Court usually, in such cafes, orders all the witnesses to withdraw. 294 TEN THOVSAND A TEAR. as he had sat down, Mr. Qmcksilver rose and called the first witness. " We're safe I" said the Attorney-General to Mr. Sterling and Mr. Crystal, with his hand before his mouth, and in the faintest whisper that could be audible to those whom he addressed ; and the witness having been sworn, they all resumed their seats and their writing. The first and the subse- quent witness established one or two preliminary and formal points — ^the Attorney-General scarcely rising to put a, question to them. The third witness was examined by Mr. Subtle with apparent unconcern, but really with exquisite anxiety. From the earnestness and attention with which the words of the witness were watched and taken down by both the judge and the counsel, who knew somewhat better than the audience where the strain of the case commenced, it must have appeared to the latter that either Mr. Subtle under-estimated or his opponents over-estimated the value of the evidence now in process of being extracted by Mr. Subtle, in short, easy, pointed questions, and with a bland and smiling countenance. " Not so fast, sir," gruffly interposed Lord Widdringtou, addressing the witness. " Take time, Mr. Jones," said Mr. Subtle, kindly, fearful of ruffling or discomposing an important witness. The Attorney-General rose to cross- examine ; pressed him quietly but closely ; varied the shape of his ques- tions ; now he soothed, then he startled by his sternness ; but sat down, evidently having produced no impression. Thus it was with one or two succeeding witnesses, the Attorney-General on each occasion resuming his seat after his abortive efforts with perfect composure. At length, however, by a very admirable and well-sustained fire of cross-questioning, he com- pletely demolished a material witness, and the hopes of all interested in behalf of his client rose high. Mr. Subtle, who had been all the while paring his nails, and from time to time smiling with a careless air (though you might as safely have touched a tigress suckling her cubs as attempted at that moment to disturb him, so absorbed was he in intense anxiety), believing that he could establish the same facta by another and, as he thought, a better witness, did not re-examine, but calling that other, with an air of nonchalance, succeeded in extracting from him all that the for- mer had failed in — baffling all attempts on the part of the Attorney-Gene- ral to affect his credit. At length, another witness being in the box, — " I object, my lord, to that question," said Mr. Attorney-General, as Mr. Subtle, amidst many indifferent and apparently irrelevant questions, quietly slipped in one of the greatest possible importance and advantage to him — had it been answered as he desired. It was quite delightiul to see the Attorney-General and his experienced and watchfal juniors all rise at one and the same instant — showing how vain were the tricks and ingenuity of their sly opponent. Mr. Attorney-General stated his objection briefly and pointedly ; Mr. Subtle answered him, followed by Quicksilver and Lynx ; and then Mr. Attorney-General replied, with great force and clearness. This keen encounter of their wits over, — " I shall allow the question to be put," said Lord Widdrington, after a pause ; " but I have great doubts as to its propriety. I will therefore take a note of Mr. Attorney-General's objection." TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 295 Four or five different conflicts arose during the course of the plaintiff's case — now concerning the competency of a witness (see App.) — then as to the admissibility of a document, or the propriety of a particular question. On each of these occasions there were displayed on both sides consummate logical skiU and acuteness, especially by the two leaders. Distinctions the most delicate and subtle were suggested with suddenness, and as promptly encountered ; the most artful manoeuvres to secure dangerous admissions resorted to, and baffled ; the most recondite principles of law brought to bear with admirable readiness on both sides. To deal with them, required, indeed, the practised, penetrating, and powerful intellect of Lord Wid- drington. Some points he disposed of promptly, to the satisfaction of both parties ; on others he hesitated, and at length reserved them. Though none but the more experienced and able members of the bar could in the least degree enter into and appreciate the nature of these conflicts, they were watched with uiitiring attention and eagerness by all present, both ladies and gentlemen— by the lowly and the distinguished. And though the intensity of the feelings of all was manifest by a mere glimpse round the court, yet any momentary display of eccentricity on the part of a wit- ness, or petulance or repartee on the part of counsel, would occasion a mo- mentary merriment, which, in point of fact, served only as a sort of relief to the strained feelings of the audience, and instantly disappeared. The tombstone part of the case was got through easily, scarcely any attempt being made on the part of Mr. Aubrey's counsel to resist or interfere with it. But the great, the hottest part of the fight, occurred at tliat point of the case where Titmouse's descent from Stephen Dreddlington was sought to be established. This gentleman, who had been a very wild person, whose movements were difficult to be traced or accounted for, had entered the navy, and ultimately died at sea, as had always been imagined, single and childless. It was proved, however, that, so far from such being the case, he had married a person at Portsmouth, of inferior station, and that by her he had a daughter, only two years before his death. Both mother and daughter, after undergoing great privation, and no notice being taken of the mother by any of her late husband's family, had removed to the house of an humble and distant relative in Cumberland, where the mother afterwards died, leaving her daughter only fifteen years old. When she grew up, she lived in some menial capacity in Cumberland, and ultimately married one Gabriel Tittlebat Titmouse, who, after living for some years a cordwainer at V/hitehaven, found his way to Grilston, in Yorkshire, in the neighborhood of which town he had lived for some years in very hum- ble circumstances. There he had married ; and about two years after- wards his wife died, leaving a son — our friend Tittlebat Titmouse. Both of them afterwards came to London, where, in four or five years' time, the father died, leaving the little Titmouse to flutter and hop about in the wide world as best he could. During the whole of this part of the case, Mr. Gammon had evinced deep anxiety ; and at a particular point — perhaps the crisis — his agitation was excessive ; yet it was almost entirely concealed by his remarkable self-control. The little documentary evidence of which Gammon, at his first interview with Titmouse, found him possessed, proved 296 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. at the trial, as Gammon had foreseen, of great importance. The evidence in support of this part of the case, and which it took till two o'clock on the ensuing afternoon to get through, was subjected to a most determined and skillful opposition by the Attorney-General, but in vain. The case had been got up with the utmost care, under the excellent management of Lynx ; and Mr. Subtle's consummate tact and ability brought it, at length, fully and distinctly out before the jury. " That, my lord," said he, as he sat down after re-examining his last witness, "is the case on the part of the plaintiff." On this the judge and jury withdrew for a short time, to obtain refreshment. During their ab- sence, the Attorney-General, Mr. Sterling, Mr. Crystal, and Mr. Mansfield, might have been seen, with their heads all laid close together, engaged in anxious consultation — a group gazed at by the eager eyes of many a spec- tator whose beating heart wished their cause God-speed. The Attorney- General then withdrew for a few moments, also to seek refreshment ; and returning at the same time with the judge, after a moment's pause rose, bowed to the judge, then to the jury, and opened the defendant's case. His manner was calm and impressive ; his person was dignified ; and his clear, distinct voice fell on the listening ear like the sound of silver. After a graceful allusion to the distinguished character of his fi-iend and client, Mr. Aubrey (to whose eminent position in the House of Commons he bore his personal testimony), to the magnitude of the interests now at stake, and the extraordinary nature of the claim set up, he proceeded — " On every account, therefore, I feel sensible, gentlemen, to an unusual and painful extent, of the heavy responsibility now resting upon my learned friends and myself, lest any miscarriage of mine should prejudice in any degree the important interests committed to us, or impair the strength of the case which I am about to submit to you on the part of Mr. Aubrey — a case which, I assure you, unless some extraordinary mischance should befall us, will, I believe, annihilate that which, with so much pains, so much tact and ability, has just been laid before you by my learned friend Mr. Subtle — [here that astute gentleman drummed with his fingers on a book before him, and smiled — but only to disguise his apprehension and surprise]— and establish the defendant in the safe possession of that large property which is the subject of the present extraordinary and unexpected litigation. But, gentlemen, before proceeding so far as that, it is fitting that I should call your attention to the nature of the case set up on the part of the plaintiff, and the sort of evidence by which it has been attempted to be supported ; and I am sanguine of being successful in showing you that the plaintiff's witnesses are not entitled to the credit to which they lay claim ; and, con- sequently, that there is no case made out for the defendant to answer." He then entered into a rigorous analysis of the plaintiff's evidence, contrasting each conflicting portion with the other, with singular cogency, and com- menting with powerful severity upon the demeanor and character of many of the witnesses. On proceeding, at length, to open the case of the defend- ant — "And here, gentlemen," said he, "I am reminded of the observation with which my learned friend concluded — that he was entirely ignorant of the case which we meant to set up in answer to that which he had opened TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 297 on the part of the plaintiff. Gentlemen, it would have been curious, in- deed, had it been otherwise — had my friend's penetrating eye been able to inspect the contents of my client's strong-box, and so become acquainted with the evidence on which he rests his title to the property now in dis- pute. My learned friend has, however, succeeded in entitling himself to information on that point ; and he shall have it — and to his heart's con- tent." Here Mr. Subtle cast a glance of smiling incredulity towards the jury and the Attorney-General. He took his pen into his hand, however, and his juniors looked anxious. " Gentlemen," continued the Attorney- General, " I am ready to concede to my learned friend every inch of the case which he has been endeavoring to make out ; that he has completely established his pedigree. At aU events, I am ready to concede this for the purpose of the case which is now under discussion before you." He then mentioned the conveyance by Harry Dreddlington of all his interest " You forget that he died in his father's lifetime, Mr. Attorney-General," interposed Mr. Subtle, with a placid smile, and the air of a man who is suddenly relieved from a vast pressure of anxiety. " Not a bit of it, gentlemen, not a bit of it — 'tis a part of my case. My learned friend is quite right ; Harry Dreddlington did die in his father's lifetime : but " Here Mr. Subtle gazed at the Attorney-General with unaffected curiosity ; and when the latter came to mention " the Deed of OonfirmaMon by the father of Harry Dreddlington," an acute observer might have observed a slight change of color in Mr. Subtle. Lynx looked at the Attorney-General as if he expected every instant to receive a musket- ball in his breast I " What, ' confirm' a NTJLLITT, Mr. Attorney-General ?" interrupted Mr. Subtle, laying down his pen with a. smile of derision ; but a moment or two afterwards, " Mr. Mortmain," said he, in a hasty whisper, " what do you think of this ? Tell me — in four words" — Mortmain, his eye glued to the face of the Attorney-General the while, muttered hastily something about " operating as a new grant — as a new conveyance," ^ " Pshaw ! I mean what's the answer to the Attorney-General ?" muttered Mr. Subtle impatiently ; but his countenance preserved its expression of smiling nonchalance. " You will oblige me, Mr. Mortmain," he by-and-by whispered, in a quiet but peremptory tone, " by giving your utmost atten- tion to the question as to the effect of this deed, so that I may shape my objection to it properly when it is tendered in evidence. If it really have the legal effect attributed to it, and which I suspect it really to have, we may as well shut up our briefs. I thought there must be some such cursed point or other in the background !" Gammon saw the real state of Mr. Subtle's mind, and his cheek turned pale, but he preserved a smile on his countenance, as he sat with his arms folded. Quirk eyed him with undisguised agitation, scarce daring to look up at Mr. Subtle. Titmouse, seeing a little dismay in his camp, turned very white and cold, and sat still, scarce daring to breathe ; while Snap looked like a terrier consciously going to have its teeth pulled out. At length the Attorney-General, after stating that, in addition to the case which he had intimated, as resting mainly on the deed of confirmation, he 298 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. should proceed to prove the pedigree of Mr. Aubrey, sat down, having spoken about two hours and a half, expressing his conviction that when the defendant's evidence should have been closed, the jury, under his lordship's direction, would return a verdict for the defendant, and that, too, without leaving the jury-box, where, by their long and patient attention, they had so honorably acquitted themselves of the important duty imposed upon them by the constitution. » " James Parkinson !" exclaimed Mr. Sterling, quietly but distinctly, as the Attorney-General sat down. " You are the attorney for tie defendant ?" inquired Mr. Sterling, as soon as the witness had been sworn. " Do you produce a conveyance between Harry Dreddlington and Moses Aaron ?" &c. (specifying it). It was proved and put in without much opposition. So also was another — the assignment from Moses Aaron to GeoQrej .Dred- dlington. " Do you aJso produce a deed between Harry Dreddlington the elder and Geoffrey Dreddlington ?" and he mentioned the date and names of all the parties to the deed of confirmation. Mr. Parkinson handed in the important document. "Stay, stay; where did you get that deed, Mr. Parkinson?" inquired Mr. Subtle sharply, rising and extending his hand for the deed. " From my office at Grilston, where I keep many of Mr. Aubrey's title- deeds." " When did you bring it hither ?" " About ten o'clock last night, for the purpose of this trial." " How long has it been at your office ?" " Ever since I fetched it, a year or two ago, with other deeds, from the mnniment-room of Yatton Hall." " How long have you been solicitor to Mr. Aubrey?" " For this ten years ; and my father was solicitor to his father for twenty- flve years." " Will you swear that this deed was in your office before the proceedings in this action were brought to your notice ?" " I have not the slightest doubt in the world." " That does not satisfy me, sir. Will you swear that it was ?" "I will, sir," replied Mr. Parkinson, firmly. "It never attracted any more notice from me than any other of Mr. Aubrey's deeds, tiU my atten- tion was drawn to it in consequence of these proceedings." "Has any one access to Mr. Aubrey's deeds at your office but yourself?" "None that I know of; I keep all the deeds of my clients which are at my office in their respective boxes, and allow no one access to them except under my immediate notice, and in my presence." Then Mr. Subtle sat down. "My lord, we now propose to put in this deed," said tlie Attorney- General, unfolding it. "Allow me to look at it, Mr. Attorney," said Mr. Subtle. It was handed to him ; and he, his juniors, and Mr. Mortmain, rising up, were engaged most anxiously in scrutinizing it for some minutes. Mortmain having looked at the stamp, sat down, and opening his bag, hastily drew out an TEN THOVSAND A YEAR. 299 old well-worn volume, which contained all the stamp acta that had ever been passed from the time of William the Third, when, I believe, the first of those blessings was conferred upon this country. First he looked at the deed — then at his book — then at the deed again ; and at length might be seen, with earnest gestures, putting Mr. Subtle in possession of some opinion which he had formed on the subject. "My lord," said Mr. Subtle, after a pause, " I object to this instrument being received in evi- dence, on account of the insufficiency of the stamp." This produced quite a sensation in court. Mr. Subtle then proceeded to mention the character of the stamp affixed to the deed, and read the act which was in force at the time that the deed bore date; and, after a few additional observations, sat down, and was followed by Mr. Quicksilver and Mr. Lynx. Then arose the Attorney-General, having in the meantime carefully looked at the act of Parliament, and submitted to his lordship that the stamp was suffi- cient ; being followed by his juniors. Mr. Subtle replied at some length. " I certainly entertain some difficulty on the point," said his lordship, " and will mention the matter to my brother Grayley." Taking vyith him the deed, and Mr. Mortmain's copy of the Stamp Acts, his lordship left the court, and was absent a quarter of an hour — half an hour — three quar- ters of an hour ; at length he returned. " I have consulted," said his lordship, as soon as he had taken his seat amidst the profoundest silence, " my brother Grayley, and we have fully considered the point. My brother happens, fortunately, to have by him a manuscript note of a case in which he was counsel, about eighteen years ago, and in which the exact point arose existing in the present case." He then read out of a thick manuscript book, which he had brought with him from Mr. Justice Grayley, the particulars of the case alluded to, certainly almost precisely similar to those then before the court. In the case referred to, the stamp had been held sufficient ; and so, his lordship and his brother Grayley were of opinion, was the stamp on the deed then before them. The cloud which had settled upon the countenance of the Attorney-General and his party here flitted over to, and settled upon, those of his opponents. "Your lordship will perhaps take a note of the olflection," said Mr. Subtle, somewhat chagrined. Lord Widdrington nodded, and immediately made the requisite entry in his notes. " Now, then, we propose to put in and read this deed," said the Attor- ney-General, with a smile of suppressed triumph, holding out his hand towards Mr. Lynx, who was scrutinizing it very eagerly. " I presume my learned friend will require only the operative parts to be read " — here Lynx, with some excitement, called his leader's attention to something which had occurred to him in the deed ; up got Quicksilver and Mortmain, and presently — " Not quite so fast, Mr. Attorney, if you please," said Mr. Subtle, with a little elation of manner — " I have another, and I apprehend, a clearly fatal objection to the admissibility of this deed, till my learned friend shall have accounted for an erasuee " " Erasure !" echoed the Attorney-General, with much surprise. " Allow me to see the deed :" and he took it with an incredulous smile, which, 300 TEN TBOUSANS A YEAR. however, disappeared as he looked more and more olosdy at the instru- ment ; Mr. Sterling, Mr. Crystal and Mr. Mansfield also looked extremely serious. "I've hit them nam," said Mr. Subtle to those behind him, as he leaned back, and looked with no little triumph at his opponents. " Was there ever anything so lucky in this world before?" From what apparently in- adequate and trifling causes often flow great results 1 The plain fact of the case was merely this. The- attorney's clerk, in copying out the deed, which was one of considerable length, had' written eight or ten words by mistake, and fearing to exasperate his master, by rendering necessary a new deed and stamp, and occasioning trouble and delay, had neatly scratched out the erroneous words, and over the erasure written the correct ones. As he was the party who was entrusted with seeing to and witnessing the execution of the instrument, he of course took no notice of the alteration, and — see the result ! The ownership of an estate of ten thousand a year about to turn upon the effect of this erasure ! " Hand me up the deed," said the judge , and inspected it minutely for a minute or two, holding it up once or twice to the light. " Has any one a magnifying glass in court ?" inquired the Attorney- General, with a look of increasing anxiety. No one happened to have one. " Is it necessary, Mr. Attorney ?" said Lord Widdrington, handing down the instrument to him with an ominous look. "Well, you object, of course, Mr. Subtle — as I understand you — that this deed is void, on account of an erasure in a material part of it?" in- quired Lord Widdrington. " That is my objection, my lord," said Mr. Subtle, sitting down. "Now, Mr. Attorney," continued the judge, turning to the Attorney- General, prepared to take a note of any observations which he might offer. The spectators, the whole court, were aware that the great crisis of the case had arrived, and there was a sickening sUence. The Attorney-Gen- eral, with perfect calmness and self-possession, immediately addressed the court in answer to this critical and unexpected objection. That there was an erasure, which, owing to the hurry with which the instrument had been examined, had been overlooked, was indisputable. The Attomey-G«neral's argument was, first, that the erasure was in a part not material ; secondly, that even if in a material part of the deed, it would not be avoided, but the alteration would be presumed to have taken place before the execution of the deed.* It was easy to see that he spoke with the air of a man who argues contra spem; what he said, however, was pertinent and forcible. The same might be said of Mr. Sterling and Mr. Crystal ; but they were all plainly gravelled. Mr. Subtle replied with cruel cogency. " Well," said Lord Widdrington, when Mr. Subtle had concluded, " I own I feel scarcely any doubt upon the matter; but as it is certainly of great importance in the present case, I will just see how it strikes my brother Grayley." With this he took the deed in his hand and quitted the court. He touched Mr. Aubrey, in passing to his private room, holding * For a discussion of this point, see Appendix. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 301 the deed before him I After an absence of about ten minutes, Lord Wid- drington retui-ned. " Silence ! silence there !" bawled the crier : and the bustle had soon sub- sided into profound silence. " I think, and my brother Grayley agrees with me," said Lord Widdring- ton, "that I ought not to receive this deed in evidence, unless the erasure occurring in an essential part of it be first accounted for. Unless, therefore, you are prepared, Mr. Attorney, with any evidence of that kind, I shall not receive the deed." The Attorney-General bowed, in silence, to his lordship. There was a faint buzz all over the court — a buzz of excitement, anxiety and disappointment, during which the Attorney-General consulted for a moment or two with his juniors. " Undoubtedly, my lord," said he at length, " we are not prepared with any evidence to explain a circumstance which has taken us entirely by surprise. After this length of time, my lord, of course " " Certainly — ^it is a great misfortune for the parties — a great misfortune. Of course you tender the deed in evidence ?" he continued, taking a note. " We do, my lord, certainly," replied the Attorney-General ; and sitting down, he and his juniors took a note of the decision ; Lord Widdrington and the Attorney-General's opponents doing the same. You should have seen the faces of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, as they looked at Mr. Parkinson, with an agitated air, returning the rejected deed to the bag from which it had been lately taken with so confident and triumphant an air ! The remainder of the case, which had been opened by the Attorney-General on behalf of Mr. Aubrey, was then proceeded with ; but in spite of all their assumed calmness, the disappointment and distress of his counsel were perceptible to all. They were now dejected — they felt that the cause was lost, unless some extraordinary good fortune should yet befall them. They were not long in establishing the descent of Mr. Aubrey from Geofirey Dreddiington. It was necessary to do so ; for, grievously as they had been disappointed in failing to establish the title paramount, founded upon the deed of confirmation of Mr. Aubrey, it was yet an impor- tant question for the jury whether they believed the evidence adduced by the plaintifi' to show title in himself. " That, my lord, is the defendant's case," said the Attorney-General as his last witness left the box ; and Mr. Subtle then rose to reply. He felt how unpopular was his cause ; that almost every countenance around him bore a hostile expression. Privately, he loathed his case, when he saw the sort of person tor whom he was struggling. All his sympathies — he was a proud, haughty man — were on behalf of Mr. Aubrey, whom by name and reputation he well knew, and with whom he had often sat in the House of Commons. Now, conspicuous before him, sat his little monkey-client, Tit^ mouse— a ridiculous object, and calculated, if there were any scope for the influence of prejudice, to ruin his own cause by the exhibition of himself before the jury. That was the vulgar idiot who was to turn the admirable Aubreys out of Yatton, and send them into the world beggared ! But Mr. Subtle was a high-minded English advocate ; and if he had had for his client Miss Aubrey in all her loveliness, and knew that her all depended 302 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. upon the success of his exertioHS, he could hardly have exerted himself more strenuously than he did on the present occasion for the imp that was squatting beneath him. And such, at length, was the efiect which that ex- quisitely skillful advocate produced, in his address to the jury, that he began to bring about a change in the feelings of most around him ! even the eye of scornful beauty began to direct fewer glances of indignation and disgust upon Titmouse, as Mr. Subtle's irresistible rhetoric drew upon their synipathies in that young gentleman's behalf. " My learned friend, the Attorney-General, gentlemen, dropped one or two expressions of a some- what disparaging tendency," said Mr. Subtle, " in alluding to my client, Mr. Titmouse, and shadowed forth a disadvantageous contrast between the obscure and ignorant plaintiff and the gifted defendant. Good heavens, gentlemen t and is my humble client's misfortune to become his fault 7 If he be obscure and ignorant, unacquainted with the usages of society, de- prived of the blessings of a superior education — if he have contracted vulgarity, wAose / of weeping. " Don't, Harriet! You would not, if you knew the pain you give me," said Miss Aubrey, faintly. Harriet perceived Miss Aubrey's ill-concealed agitation ; and starting aside, poured out a glass of water, and forced her pale mistress to swallow a little, which presently revived her. " Harriet," said she, feebly, but firmly, " you have never once disobeyed me, and now I am certain you will not. I assure you that we have made all our arrangements, and cannot alter them. I have been very fortunate in obtaining for you so kind a mistress as Lady Stratton. Bemember, Harriet, she was the oldest bosom friend of my " Miss Aubrey's voice trembled, and she ceased speaking for a minute or two, during which she struggled against her feelings with a momentary success. "Here's the prayer-book," she presently resumed, opening a drawer in her dressing- table, and taking out a small volume — " Here's the prayer-book I promised you ; it is very prettily bouiid, and I have written your name in it, Harriet, as you desired. Take it, and keep it, for my sake. Will you ?" " Oh, ma'am," replied the girl, bitterly, " I shall never bear to look at it ! And yet I'll never part with it till I die !" " Now leave me, Harriet, for a short time— I wish to be alone," said Miss Aubrey ; and she was obeyed. She presently rose and bolted the door ; and then, secure from interruption, walked slowly to and fro for some time ; and a long and deep current of melancholy thoughts and feelings flowed through her mind and desolate heart. She had but a short time before seen her sister's sweet children put into their little beds for the last time at Yatton ; and, together with their mother, had hung fondly over them, kissing and embracing them, their destined little fellow-wanderers, till her feelings compelled her to leave them. One by one, all the dear, innumerable ties which had attached her to Yatton, and to everything con- nected with it, ever since her birth, had been severed and broken — ^ties not only the strength, but every existence of which, she had scarce been aware of till then. She had bade — as had all of them — repeated and agonizing farewells to dear and old friends. Her heart trembled as she gazed at the objects familiar to her eye, and pregnant with innumerable TEN TUOVSAND A YEAR. 369 little softening associations, ever since her infancy. Nothing around them now belonged to them — but to a stranger — to one who — she shuddered with disgust. She thought of the fearful position in which her brother was placed — entirely at the mercy of, it might be, selfish and rapacious men. What indeed was to become of all of them ? At length she threw herself into the large old easy-chair which stood near the window, and with a flut- tering heart, and hasty tremulous hand, drew an open letter from her bosom. She held it for some moments, as if dreading again to peruse it, but at length unfolded and read a portion of it. 'Twas full of fervent and at the same time delicate expressions of fondness ; and after a short while, her hand dropped, with the letter, upon her lap, and she burst into a pas- sionate flood of tears. After an interval of several minutes, she again took up the letter — read a little further — still more and more moved by the gen- erous and noble sentiments it contained — and at length, utterly overcome, she again dropped her hand, and.Bobbed aloud long and vehemently. " It cannot — cannot — no, it cannot be," she murmured ; and, yielding to her feelings for a long while, her tears showered down her pallid, beautiful cheeks. At length, having resumed her perusal of the letter, she came to the conclusion. In a kind of agony she pressed the signature to her lips, and then hastily folding up the letter, replaced it whence she had taken it, and continued sobbing bitterly. Alas, what additional poignancy did this give to the agonies of her last evening at Yatton 1 She had become somewhat calmer by the time that she heard the door hastily but gently tapped at, and then attempted to be opened. Miss Aubrey rose and unbolted it, and Mrs. Aubrey entered, her beautiful countenance as pale and sad as that of her sister-in-law. The former, however, was both wife and mother ; and the various cares which these relations had entailed upon her, at a bitter moment like the present, served, in some measure, to occupy her thoughts, and prevent her from being absorbed by the heart-breaking circumstances surrounding her. Suflering had, however, a little impaired her beauty ; her cheek was very pale, and her eye and brow were laden with trouble. " Kate, dear Kate," said she, rather quickly, closing the door after her, "what is to be done? Did you hear carriage-wheels a few moments ago? Who do you think have arrived ? As I fancied would be the case, the De la Zouches !" Miss Aubrey trembled and turned pale. " You must see — ^you must see — Lady De la Zouch, Kate; they have driven from Fotheringham on purpose to take — once more — a last farewell ! 'Tis very painfiil, but what can be done ? You know what dear, dear, good friends they are." "Is Lord De la Zouch come, also?" inquired Miss Aubrey, apprehen- sively. " I will not deceive you, dearest Kate, they are all come ; but she only is in the house : they are gone out to look for Charles, who was walking in the park." Miss Aubrey trembled violently ; and after evidently a severe struggle with her feelings, the color having entirely deserted her face, and left it of an ashy whiteness, "I cannot muster up resolution enough, Agnes," she whispered. " I know their errand 1" 24 370 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " Care not about their errand, love I" said Mrs. Aubrey, embracing her fondly. " You shall not be troubled— you shall not be persecuted." Miss Aubrey shook her head, and grasped Mrs. Aubrey's hand. "They do not, Agnes, they cairmot persecute me," replied Miss Aubrey, with energy. "It is a cruel and harsh word to use — and I — consider how noble, how disinterested is their conduct; that it is which subdues me!" Mrs. Aubrey embraced still more closely her agitated sister-in-law, and tenderly kissed her forehead. " Oh, Agnes 1" faltered Miss Aubrey, pressing her hand upon her heart, to relieve the intolerable oppression which she suffered — "would to Heaven that I had never seen — ^never thought of him 1" " Don't fear, Kate ! that he will attempt to see you on so sad an occasion as this. Delamere is a man of infinite delicacy and generosity." " I know he is — I know he is," gasped. Miss Aubrey, almost suffocated with her emotions'. " Stay, I'll tell you what to do ; I'll go down and return with Lady De la Zouch : we can see her here, undisturbed and alone, for a few moments, and then nothing painful can occur. Shall I bring her ?" she inquired, rising. Miss Aubrey did not dissent ; and, within a few minutes' time, Mrs. Aubrey returned, accompanied by Lady De la Zouch. She was rather an elderly woman. Her countenance was still handsome, and she possessed a very dignified carriage. She was of an affectionate disposition, and passionately fond of Miss Aubrey. Hastily drawing aside her veil as she entered the room, she stepped quickly up to Miss Aubrey, kissed her, and grasped her hands for some moments in silence. " This is sad work, dearest," said she at length, hurriedly glancing at the luggage lying piled up at the other end of the room. Miss Aubrey made no answer, but shook her head. " It was useless attempting it, my love — we could not stay at home; we have risked being charged with cruel intru- sion; forgive me, dearest, will you? They," said Lady De la Zouch, pointedly, " will not come near you." Miss Aubrey trembled. " I feel as if I were parting with an only daughter, Kate," said Lady De la Zouch, with sudden emotion. " How your mamma and I loved one another !" said she fondly, and burst into tears. " For mercy's sake, open the window ; I feel suffocated," faltered Miss Aubrey. Mrs. Aubrey hastily drew up the window, and the cool refresh- ing breeze of evening quickly diffused itself through the apartment, and revived the drooping spirits of Miss Aubrey, who walked gently to and fro about the room, supported by Lady De la Zouch and Mrs. Aubrey, and soon recovered a tolerable degree of composure. The three ladies pres- ently stood, arm in arm, gazing through the deep bay window at the fine prospect which it commanded. The gloom of evening was beginning to steal over the landscape. " How beautiful !" exclaimed Miss Aubrey, faintly, with a deep sigh. " The window in the northern tower of the Castle commands a still more extensive view," said Lady De la Zouch, looking earnestly at Miss Aubrey, who, as if conscious of some agitating allusion, burst into tears. After TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 371 standing gazing through the window for some time longer, they stepped baclc into the room, and were soon engaged in deep and earnest conversation. For the last three weeks Mr. Aubrey had addressed himself with calm- ness and energy to the painful duties which had devolved upon him, of setting his ho/use in order. Immediately after quitting the dinner-table that day — a mere nominal meal to all of them — he had retired to the library, to complete the extensive and important arrangements consequent upon his abandonment of Yatton ; and after about an hour thus occupied, he went forth to take a solitary walk — a melancholy — a last walk about the property. It was a moment which severely tried his fortitude ; but that fortitude stood the trial. He was a man of lively sensibilities, and appre- ciated, to its utmost extent, the melancholy and alarming change which had come over his fortunes. Surely even the bluntest and coarsest feelings which ever tried to disguise and dignify themselves under the name of STOICISM — to convert into bravery and fortitude a stupid, sullen insensi- bility — must have been not a little shaken by sueh scenes as Mr. Aubrey had had to pass through during the last few weeks — scenes which I do not choose to distress the reader's feelings by dwelling upon in detail. Mr. Aubrey had no mean pretensions to real philosophy ; but he, had still juster pretensions to an infinitely higher character — that of a Chkistian. He had a firm, unwavering conviction thai whatever befell him, either of good or evil, was by the ordination of the Almighty — infinitely wise, infinitely good ; — and this was the source of his fortitude and resignation. He felt himself here standing upon ground which was immovable. To avert the misfortune which menaced him, he had neglected no rational and conscientious means. To retain the advantages of fortune and Station to which he had believed himself born, he had made the most strenuous exertions consistent with a rigid sense of honor. What, indeed, could he have done that he had not done ? He had caused the claims of his opponent to be subjected to as severe a scrutiny as the wit of man could suggest; and they had stood the test. Those claims, and his own, had been each of them placed in the scales of justice ; those scales had been held up and poised by the pure and firm hands to which the laws of God, and of the country, had committed the administration of justice : on what ground could a just and reasonable man quarrel with or repine at the issue ? And supposing that a perverse and subtle ingenuity in his legal advisers could have devised means for delaying his surrender of the pro- perty to the individual who had been solemnly declared its true owner, what real and ultimate advantage could have been obtained by such a dishonorable line of conduct? Could the spirit of the Cheistian reli- gion tolerate the bare idea of it? Could such purposes or intentions consist for one instant with the consciousness that the awfiil eye of God was always upon every thought of his mind, every feeling of his heart, every purpose of his will? A thorough and lively conviction of God's moral government of the world secirred Aubrey a happy composure — a glorious and immovable resolution. It enabled him to form a true esti- mate of things ; it extracted the sting from grief and regret ; it dispelled the gloom which would otherwise have settled portentously upon the 372 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. future. Thus he had not forgotten the exhortation which spoke unto him, as unto a child : " My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint Tyhen thou art rebuked of Him." And if, indeed, religion had not done this for Mr. Aubrey, what could it have done, what would it have been worth? It would indeed have been that which dull fools suppose it — a mere name, a melancholy delusion. What hopeless and lamentable imbecility would it not have argued, to have acknowledged the reality and influence of religion in the hour of prosperity, and to have doubted, dis- trusted, or denied it in the hour of adversity? When a child beholds the sun obscured by dark clouds, he may think, in his simplicity, that it is gone forever; but a man knows that behind is the sun, magnificent as ever, and that the next moment, the clouds having rolled away, its glori- ous warmth and light are again upon the earth. Thus it is, thought Aubrey, with humble but cheerful confidence, with the Almighty— who hath declared himself the " Father of the spirits of all flesh" — " Behind a frowning Providence He bides a smiling lace I Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his works in vain I God is his own interpreter. And he will make it plain." " Therefore, O my God 1" thought Aubrey, as he gazed upon the lovely scenes familiar to him from his birth, and from which a few short hours were to separate him forever, " I do acknowledge Thy hand in what has befallen me, and Thy mercy which enables me to bear it, as from Thee." The scene around him was tranquil and beautiful — inexpressibly beautiful. He stood under the shadow of a mighty elm-tree, the last in a long and noble avenue, which he had been pacing in deep thought for upwards of an hour. The ground was considerably elevated above the level of the rest of the park. No sound disturbed the serene repose of the approaching evening, except the distant and gradually diminishing sounds issuing from an old rookery, and the faint low babbling of a clear streamlet which flowed not far irom where he stood. Here and there, under the deepening shadows cast by the lofty trees, might be seen the glancing forms of deer, the only live things visible. " Life," said Aubrey to himself, with a sigh, as he leaned against the trunk of the grand old tree under which he stood, and gazed with a fond eye on the lovely scenes stretching before him, to which the radiance of the departing sunlight communicated a tone of tender pensiveness ; " life is, in truth, what the Scripture — what the voice of nature — represents it — a long journey, during which the traveller stops at many resting-places. Some of them are more, others less beautiful j from some he parts with more, from others with less regret; but part he must, and pursue his journey, though he may often turn back to gaze with lingering fondness and admiration at the scene which he has last quitted. The next stage may be, as all his journey might have been, bleak and desolate ; but through that he is only passing : he will not be condemned to stay in it, as he was not permitted to dwell in the other ; he is still jour- neying on, along a route which he cannot mistake, to the point of his destl- TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 373 nation, his journey's end — the shores of the vast, immeasurable, boundless, ocean of eternity — his home !" The deepening shadows of evening warned him to retrace his steps to the Hall. Before quitting the spot upon which he had been so long stand- ing, he turned his head a little towards the right, to take a last view of an object which called forth tender and painful feelings — it was the old syca- more which his sister's intercession had saved from the axe. There it stood, feeble and venerable object! its leafless silvery-gray branches be- coming, in the fading light, dim and indistinct, yet contrasting touchingly with the verdant strength of those near it. A neat strong fence had been placed around it ; but how much longer would it receive such care and attention? Aubrey thought of the comparison which had on a former occasion been made by his sister, and sighed heavily as he looked his last at the old tree. Then he slowly walked on towards the Hall. When about half way down the avenue, he beheld two figures apparently ap- proaching him, but undistinguishable in the gloom and the distance. As they neared him, he recognized Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Delamere. Suspecting the object of their visit, which a little surprised him, since they had taken a final leave, and a very affectionate one, the day before, he felt a little anxiety and embarrassment. Nor was he entirely mistaken. Lord De la Zouch, who advanced alone towards Aubrey — Mr. Delamere turning back — most seriously pressed his son's suit for the hand of Miss Aubrey, as he had often done before, declaring that, though undoubtedly he wished a year or two first to elapse, during which his son might complete his studies at Oxford, there was no object dearer to the heart of Lady De la Zouch and himself than to see Miss Aubrey become their daughter-in-law. " Where," said Lord De la Zouch, with much energy, " is he to look elsei- where for such an union of beauty, of accomplishments, of amiability, of high-mindedness ?" After a great deal of animated conversation on this subject, during which Mr. Aubrey assured Lord De la Zouch that he would say everything which he honorably could to induce his sister to entertain, or, at all events, not to discard the suit of Delamere, at the same time reminding him of the firmness of her character, and the hopelessness of attempting to change any determination to which she might have been led by her sense of delicacy and honor. Lord De la Zouch addressed himself in an earnest manner to matters more immediately relating to the personal interests of Mr. Aubrey, entered with lively anxiety into all his future plans and purposes, and once more pressed upon him the acceptance of munificent offers of pecuniary assistance, which, with many fervent ex- pressions of gratitude, Aubrey again declined. But he pledged himself to communicate freely with Lord De la Zouch, in the event of an occasion arising for such assistance as his lordship had already so generously vol- unteered. By this time Mr. Delamere had joined them, regarding Mr. Aubrey with infinite earnestness and apprehension. All, however, he said was — and in a hurried manner, to his father — " My mother is waiting for you in the carriage, and wishes that we should immediately return." Lord De la Zouch and his son again took leave of Mr. Aubrey. " Eemember, my dear Aubrey, remember the pledges you have repeated this evening," 374 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. said the former. " I do, I will," replied Mr. Aubrey, as they each wrung his hands ; and then, having grasped those of Lady De la Zouch, who sat within the carriage powerfully afieoted, the door was shut, and they were quickly borne away from the presence and the residence of their afflicted friends. While Mr. Aubrey stood gazing after them, with folded arms, in an attitude of melancholy abstraction, at the Hall door, he was accosted by Dr. I'atham, who had come to him from the library, where he had been till a short time before, busily engaged reducing into writing various matters which had been the subject of conversation between himself and Mr. Aubrey during the day. "I am afraid, my dear friend," said the Doctor, "that there is a painfiil but interesting scene awaiting you. You will not, I am sure, forbear to gratify, by your momentary presence in the servants' hall, a body of the tenantry, who are there assembled, having come to pay you — ^good souls ! — their parting respects." " I would really rather be spared the painful scene," said Mr. Aubrey, with emotion. " I am nearly unnerved as it is ! Cannot you bid them adieu in my name ? and say God bless them !" " You must come, my dear friend I If it be painful, it will be but for a moment ; and the recollection of their hearty and humble expressions of affection and respect will • be pleasant hereafter. Poor souls !" he added, with no little emotion, " you should see how crowded is Mr. Griffiths' room with the presents they have each brought you, and which would surely keep your whole establishment for mouths 1 Cheeses, tongues, ham, bacon and I know not what beside I" " Come, Doctor," said Mr. Aubrey, quickly, and with evidently a great effort, " I will see them, my humble and worthy friends ! if it be for but a moment ; but I would rather have been spared the scene." He followed Dr. Tatham into the spacious servants' hall, which he found nearly filled by some forty or fifty of his late tenanti-y, who, as he entered, rose in troubled silence to receive him. There were lights, by which a hurried glance sufficed to show him the deep sorrow visible in their countenances. "Well, sir," commenced one of them, after a moment's hesitation — ^he seemed to have been chosen the spokesman of those present — " we've come to tak' our leave ; and a sad time it be for all of us, and it may be, sir, for you." He paused, and added abruptly^-" I thought I could have said a word or two, sir, in the name of all of us, but I've clean forgotten all ; and 1 wish we could all forget that we were come to part with you, sir — ^but we sha'n't — no, never ! — we shall never see your like again, sir I God help you, sir 1" Again he paused, and struggled hard to conceal his emotions. Then he tried to sa,y something further, but his voice failed him. " Squire, it may be law ; but it is not justice, we all do think, that hath taken Yatton from you, that was bom to it," said one, who stood next to him who had first spoken. " Who ever heard o' a scratch in a bit of paper signifying the loss o' so much ? It never were heai-d of afore, sir, and can- not be right 1" "You'll forgive me. Squire," said another, "but we shall never tak' to t' new one that's coming after you !" TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 375 " My worfihy — ^my dear friends," commenced Mr. Aubrey, with melan- choly and forced composure, as he stood beside Dr. Tatham, " this is a sad trial to me — one which 1 had not expected, and am quite unprepared for. I have had lately to go through many painful scenes, but few more so than the present. My dear friends, I can only say from my heart, God bless yoTi all ! I shall never forget you, whom I have always respected, and indeed been very proud of, as my tenantry, and whom I now of couree look at as my friends only. We shall Tieeer forget you " " Lord Almighty bless you, sir, and Madam and Miss, and little Miss — and the little squire !" said a voice, in a vehement manner, from amidst the throng, in tones which went to Mr. Aubrey's heart. His lips quivered, and he ceased speaking for some moments. At length he resumed. " You see my feelings are a little shaken by the sufferings which I have gone through. I have only a word more to say to you. Providence has seen fit, my friends, to deprive me of that which I had deemed to be my birthright. God is good and wise ; and I bow, as we must all bow, to His will with reverence and resignation. And also, my dear friends, let us always submit cheerfully to the laws under which we live. We must not quarrel with their decision, merely because it happens to be adverse to our own wishes. I, from my heart — and so must you from yours — acknowl- edge a firm, unshaken allegiance to the laws ; they are ordained by God, and He demands our obedience to them ! society cannot exist without them" — he paused. "I have to thank you," he presently added, in a subdued tone, " my worthy friends, for many substantial tokens of your good will, brought with you this evening. I assure you sincerely that I value them far more" — he paused, and it was some moments before he could proceed — " than if they had been of the most costly and splendid description " " Lord, only hearken to t' Squire 1" called out a voice, as if on an im- pulse of eaget affection, which its rough, honest speaker could not resist. This seemed entirely to deprive Mr. A ubrey of the power of utterance, and he turned suddenly towards Dr. Tatham with an overflowing eye and a con- vulsive quivermg of the lips which showed the powerful emotions with which he was contending. The next moment he stepped forward and shook hands with those nearest. He was quickly surrounded, and every one present grasped his hands, scarcely any of them able to utter more than a brief hut fervent "God bless you, sir I" " I am sure, my friends," said Dr. Tatham, almost as much affected as any of them, " that you cannot wish to prolong so afflicting a scene as this. Mr. Aubrey is much exhausted, and has a long journey to take early in the morning — and you had better now leave." " Farewell ! — farewell, my kind and dear friends, farewell I May God bless you all, and all your families !" said Mr. Aubrey, and, powerfully affected, withdrew from a scene which he was not likely ever to forget. He retired, accompanied by Dr. Tatham, to his library, where Mr. Griffiths, his steward, was in readiness to receive his signature to various documents. This done, the steward, after a few hurried expressions of affection and respect, withdrew. Mr. Aubrey had then completed all the arrangements and transacted all the business which had required his 376 TEN THOUSAND A YEAB.I attention before quitting Yatton, which at an early hour in the morning he was going to leave, having determined to go direct to London, instead of accepting any of the numerous oflfers from his friends in the neighbor- hood to take up with them his abode for, at all events, some considerable period. That, however, would have been entirely Inconsistent with the plans for his future life which he had formed and matured. He left the whole estate in admirable order and condition. There was not a farm vacant, not a tenant dissatisfied with the terms under which he held. Every document, all the accounts connected with the estate, after having been carefully examined by Mr. Parkinson, and Mr. Aubrey, and Mr. GriflBths, were in readiness for the most scrupulous and searching investi- gation on the part of Mr. Aubrey's successor and his agents. Mr. Aubrey's library was already carefiiUy packed up, and was to follow him on the ensuing day to London, by water ; as also were several por- tions of the furniture, the residue of which was to be sold off within a day or two's time. How difficult, how very difficult, had it been for them to choose which articles they would part with and which retain I The favor- ite old high-backed easy-chair, which had been worked by Miss Aubrey herself; the beautiful ebony cabinet, which had been given by her father to her mother, who had given it to Kate ; the little chairs of Charles and Agnes, in which Mr. Aubrey and Kate, and all their brothers and sisters-^ long since deceased — ^had sat when children ; Mrs. Aubrey's piano ; — these and a few other articles had been successfully pleaded for by Mrs. Aubrey and Kate, and were to- accompany, or rather follow, them to London, in- stead of passing, by the auctioneer's hammer, into the hands of strangers. The two carriage horses, which had drawn old Mrs. Aubrey in the family coach for many years, were to be turned to grass, for the rest of their days, at Lady Stratton's. Poor old Peggy was, in like manner, to have to her- self a littie field belonging to Dr. Tatham. Little Charles's pony, a beauti- ful animal, and most reluctantly parted with, was sent as a present^ in his name, to little Sir Harry Oldfield, one of his playfellows. Hector, the magnificent Newfoundland dog, was at the vehement instance of Pumpkin, the gardener, who had almost gone upon his knees to beg for the animal, and declared that he loved the creature like a son — as I verily believe ho did, for they were inseparable, and their attachment was mutual — ^given up to him, on his solemn promise to take great care of him. Then there was a poor animal which they hardly knew how to dispose of; it was a fine old favorite staghound, stone-blind, quite gray about the head, and so very feeble, that it could but just crawl in and out of its commodious kennel, and lie basking in the genial sunshine, wagging its tail when any one spoke to it, and affectionately licking the hand that patted it. Thus had it treated Mr. Aubrey that very morning, as he stood by, and stooped down to caress it for the last time. It was, at his earnest request, assigned to Dr. Tatham, kennel and all ; indeed the worthy little Doctor would have crammed the whole of his little premises in a similar way, in order to have the more "keepsakes" and "memorials" of his friends. Miss Aubrey's beautiful Blenheim spaniel, witlx its briUiant black eyes, and long, glossy, graceful ears, was to accompany her to London. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. Zll As for the servants, the housekeeper was going to keep the house of her brother, a widower, at Grilston, and the butler was going to marry, and quit service. As for the rest, Mr. Parkinson had, at Mr. Aubrey's desire, written about them to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, and Mr. Gammon had sent word that such members of the establishment as chose might continue at Yatton, at all events till the pleasure of Mr. Titmouse upon the subject should have been known. All the servants had received a quar- ter's wages that morning from Mr. Griffiths, in the presence of Mr. Aubrey, who spoke kindly to each, and earnestly recommended them to conduct themselves respectfully towards his successor. Scarce any of them could answer him otherwise than by an humble bow, or curtsy, accom- panied by sobs and tears. One of them did contrive to speak, and passion- ately expressed a wish that the first morsel Mr. Titmouse ate in the house might choke him — a sally which received so grave a rebuke from Mr. Aubrey as brought the hasty ofiender to her knees, begging forgiveness, which I need hardly say she received, but with a serious admonition. Several vehemently entreated to be allowed to accompany Mr. Aubrey and his family to London, and continue in their service, but' in vain. Mr. Aubrey had made his selection, having taken only his own valet, and Mrs. Aubrey's maid, and one of the nursery-maids, and declaring that on no consideration would he think of being accompanied by any other of the BCrvants. There were some twenty or thirty poor old infirm cottagers, men and ■women, who had been for years weekly pensioners on the bounty of Yatton, and respecting whom Mr. Aubrey felt a painful anxiety. What could he do ? He gave the sum of fifty pounds to Dr. Tatham for their use, and requested him to press their claims earnestly upon the new pro- prietor of Yatton. He also wrote almost as many letters as there were of these poor people, on their behalf to his friends and neighbors, Oh, it was a moving scene which had occurred at each of their little cottages, when their benefactors, Mr. Aubrey, his wife, and sister severally called to bid them farewell, and receive their humble and tearful blessings ! But it was the parting with her school, which neither Kate nor her brother saw any probability of being kept up longer than for a month or two after their departure, which had occasioned Kate the greatest distress. There were several reasons, which will occur to the reader, why no application could be made about the matter from her, or on her account, to Mr. Titmouse, even if she had not had reason to anticipate, from what she had heard of his character, that he was a person unlikely to feel any interest in such an institution. Nor had she liked to trouble or burden the friends whom she left behind her with the responsibility of supporting and superintending her little establishment. She had nothing for it, therefore, but to prepare the mistress and her scholars for the breaking up of the school, within a month of her departure from Yatton. She gave the worthy woman the mistress a present of a five pound note, and five shillings to each of the children. She felt unequal to tlie task of personally taking leave of them, as she had intended, and several times attempted. She therefore, with many tears, wrote the following lines, and gave them to Dr. Tatham, to 378 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. read aloud in the school, when their good and heautifal writer should he far on her way towards London. The little Doctor paused a good many times whUe he read it, and complained of his glasses. " My Deak Little Girls ; — You know that I have already hid each of you good-hye ; and though I tried to say something to all of you at once, I was not able, because I was sorry to part with you, and tell you that my little school must be given up. So I have written these few lines, to tell you that I love you all, and have tried to be a good friend to you. Be sure not to forget your spelling and reading, and your needle. Your mothers have promised to hear you say your catechisms; you must also he sure to say your prayers, and to read your Bibles, and to behave very seriously at church, and to be always dutiful to your parents. Then God will bless you all I I hope you will not forget us, for we shall often think of you when we are a great way off; and Dr. Tatham will now and then write and tell us how you are going on. Farewell, my dear little girls^ and may God bless and preserve you all 1 This is the prayer of both of us — Mrs. Aubrey and "Cathebine Aubeet. " Yatton, May 15, 18—." The above was not written in the uniform and beautiful hand usual with Miss Aubrey ; it was, on the contrary, rather irregular, and evidently writ- ten hastily ; but Dr. Tatham preserved it to the day of his death, and always thought it beautiful. On the ensuing morning, at a very early hour, Dr. Tatham left the vicaf- age, to pay his last visit to friends whom it almost broke his heart to part with, in all human probability forever. He started, but on a moment's reflection ceased to be surprised, at the sight of Mr. Aubrey approaching him from the direction of the little churchyard. He was calm, but his countenance bore the traces of recent emotion. They greeted each other in silence, and so walked on for some time, arm in arm, slowly, towards the Hall, It was a dull, heavy morning, almost threatemng rain. The air seemed full of oppression. The only sounds audible were the hoarse clam- orous sounds issuing from the old rookery, at some distance on their left. Mr, Aubrey and Dr, Tatham interchanged but few words, as they walked along the winding pathway to the Hall, The first thing which attracted their eyes, after passing under the gateway, was the large old family car- riage, standing opposite the Hall door, where stood some luggage, sufficient for the journey, ready to be placed upon it, the remainder having been sent on the day before to London, How mournful was the sight I On entering the Hall, they found its heartbroken inmates all up and dressed. The children were taking their last breakfast in the nursery; Charles making many inquiries of the weeping servants, which they could answer only by tears and kisses. In vain was the breakfast-table spread for the senior travellers. There sat poor Kate, in travelling trim, before the antique silver urn, attempting to perform with tremulous hand her accus- tomed office; but neither she nor Mrs. Aubrey was equal to the task; and summoning the housekeeper into the room, they devolved it upon TEN THOUSAND A YEAJR. 879 her, and which she was scarce able to perform. Mr. Aubrey and Dr. Tatham were standing there ; but neither of them spoke. A short time before, Mr. Aubrey had requested the servants to be summoned, as usual, to morning prayer, in the accustomed room, and requested Dr. Tatham to officiate. As soon, however, as the sorrowful little assemblage was col- lected before him, he whispered to Mr. Aubrey that he felt unequal to go through the duty with the composure which it required ; and after a pause, he said, " Let us kneel down ;" and in a lo^!? voice, often interrupted by his own emotions, and the sobs of those around him, he read, with touching simplicity and solemnity, the ninety-first Psalm ; adding the Lord's prayer, and a tremulous benediction. The bitter preparations for starting at an early hour, seven o'clock, were soon afterwards completed. Half smothered with the kisses and caresses of the affectionate servants, little Charles and Agnes were already seated in the carriage, on the laps of their two attendants, exclaiming eagerly, " Come, papa 1 come, mamma 1 What a while you are !" Just then, poor Pumpkin, the gardener, scarce able to speak, made his appearance, his arms full of nosegays, which he had been culling for the last two hours — having one apiece for each of the travellers, servants, and children, and all. The loud angry bark of Hector was heard from time to time, little Charles calling loudly for him ; but Pumpkin had fastened him up, for fear of his starting off after the carriage. At length, having scarcely tasted breakfast, the travellers made their appearance at the Hall door. Kate and Mrs. Aubrey were utterly overcome at the sight of the carriage, and wept bitterly. They threw their arms passionately around, and fer- vently kissed, their venerable friend and pastor, Dr. Tatham, who was grievously agitated. Then they tore themselves from liim, and hastily got into the carriage. As he stood alone, bareheaded, on their quitting him, he lifted his hands, but could scarce utter a parting benediction. Mr. Aubrey, almost overpowered with his emotions, then grasped his hand, whispering, " Farewell, my dear and venerable friend ! Farewell 1" " The Lord God of thy fathers bless thee !"* murmured Dr. Tatham, clasping Mr. Aubrey's hand in both of his own, and looking solemnly upward. Mr. Aubrey, taking off his hat, turned towards him an unutterable look ; then, waving his hand to the group of agitated servants standing within and without the door, he stepped into the carriage ; the door was shut ; and they rolled slowly away. Outside the park gates were collected more than a hundred people, to bid them farewell — all the men, when the carriage came in sight, taking off their hats. The carriage stopped for a moment. "God bless you all 1 God bless you !" exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, waving his hand, whilst from each window were extended the white hands of Kate and Mrs. Aubrey, both of which were fervently kissed and shaken by those who were nearest. Again the carriage moved on; and, quickening their speed, the horses soon bore them out of the village. Within less than half an hour afterwards, the tearful eyes of the travellers, as they passed a familiar turning of the road, had looked their last on Yatton 1 • These were the last words addressed to the author by his blind and very aged grand- father, then not far from his hundredth year. TEN THOUSAND A TEAS. BOOK IV. CHAPTEE I. MR. titmouse's first INTRODUCTION TO VERT HIGH XTFE INDEED. A DINNER WITH AN EARL IN GROSVENOR SQUARE. RANK hardly ever fails to attract and dazzle vulgar and feeble optics; and the belief that such is its effect upon mankind generally, is un- speakably gratifying to a vain and ignorant possessor of that rank. Of the truth of one part of this observation, take as an illustration the case of Tittlebat Titmouse ; of the other, that of the Earl of Dreddlington. The former's dinner engagement with the latter, his august and awM kinsman, was an event of such magnitude as to absorb almost all his faculties in the contemplation of it, and also occasion him great anxiety in preparing for an effective appearance upon so signal an occasion. Mr. Gammon had repeatedfy, during the interval, instructed his anxious pupil, if so he might be called, as to the manner in which he ought to behave. He was — Heaven save the mark, poor Titmouse ! — to assume an air of mingled deference, self-possession, and firmness, — ^not, on the one hand, to be over- awed by the greatness with which he would be brought into contact, nor, on the other, unduly elated by a sense of his own suddenly-acquired im- portance. He was, on the contrary, to steer evenly between the extremes of timorousness and temerity — to aim, at least, at that happy mean so grateful to those able to appreciate the effort and object of those who had attained to it. Titmouse was to remember that, great as was the Earl of Dreddlington, he was yet but a man — related, too, by consanguinity, to him, the aforesaid Titmouse, who might, moreover, before many years should have elapsed, become himself Lord Drelincourt, and by conse- quence equally entitled with the present possessor of that resplendent rank to the homage of mankind. At the same time that the earl's advanced years gave him a natuMil claim to the reverence of his young kinsman — whom his lordship was about to introduce into the sublime regions of aristocracy, and also of political society — Titmouse might extract a few ingredients of consolation from the reflection that his income probably exceeded by a third that of the Earl of Dreddlington. This is the sum of Mr. Gammon's general instructions to his eager and excited pupil ; but he also gave Titmouse many minor hints and suggestions. He was to drink but little wine — whereat Titmouse demurred somewhat vehemently, and asked, " How the devil was he to get his steam up without it 7" — and on no account to call for beer or porter, to which plebeian beverages, indeed, he might consider himself as having bidden a long and last adieu ; to say occasionally only "my lord" in addressing the earl, and "Lady Cecilia" in addressing Lady Cecilia ; and, above all, never to appear in a hurry, TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 381 but to do and say whatever he had to do and say calmly, for that the nerves of aristocracy were very delicate, and could not bear a bustle, or the slightest display of energy or feeling. Then as to his dress — Gammon, feeling himself treading on very doubtful ground, intimated merely, that the essence of true fashion was simplicity ; but here Titmouse grew fidgety, and his Mentor ceased. During the night that ushered in the eventful day on which Titmouse dined with the Earl of Dreddlington, our friend got but little sleep. Early in the morning he engaged a respectable glass-coach to convey him west- ward in the evening, in something like style ; and before noon his anxie- ties were set at rest by the punctual arrival of various articles of dress, decoration, and scent, — for Titmouse had a great idea of scents. As for his new watch and its brilliant gold guard-chain — ambitious reader ! you should have seen them ! About half-past four o'clock, Titmouse retired to his bed-room, and resigned himself into the hands of Mr. Twirl, the tip- top hairdresser from the Strand, whose agreeable manipulations, and still more agreeable small-talk, occupied upwards of an hour, Titmouse from time to time giving the anxious operator abundant notice of the high quar- ter in which his handiwork was likely soon to be scrutinized. ' " Pray-a, can you tell me," quoth Titmouse, drawlingly, shortly after Twirl had commenced his operations, " how long it will take me to get from this infernal part of the town to Grosvenor Square ? Dem long way, isn't it, Mr. What's-your-name ?" "Grosvenor Square, sir?" said Twirl, glibly, but with a perceptible dash of deference in his tone, "why, it is, as one might say, a tolerable way off, certainly; but you can't well miss your way there, sir, of all places in town " " My coachman," interrupted Titmouse, with a fine air, " of course, had I thought of it, he must know — dem him, of course 1" " Oh ! to be sure, sir. There's none but people of the most highest rank lives in that quarter, sir. Excuse me, sir, but I've a brother-in-law that's valet to the Duke of Dunderwhistle there " " Indeed, how far is that from Lord Dreddlington's?" inquired Titmouse, carelessly. • " Lord Dreddlington's sir 7 Well, I never ! Isn't it particular strange, if that's where you're going sir, it's next door to the duke's — the very next door, sir !" " 'Pon my life, is it indeed ? How devilish odd I" " Know the Earl of Dreddlington, then, I presume, sir ?" "Ya-as, I should think so; he's my — my — relation, that's all; and devilish near too I" Mr. Twirl instantly conceived a kind of reverence for the gentleman upon whom he was operating. " Well, sir," he presently added, in a still more respectful tone than be- fore, " p'raps you'll think it a liberty, sir, but, do you know, I've several times had the honor of seeing his lordship in the street at a little distance, and there's a — a family likeness between you, sir — 'pon my word, sir. It Struck me directly I saw you that you was like some nob I'd seen at the 382 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. other end of the town." [Here Titmouse experienced pleasurable sensa- tions, similar to those said to be enjoyed by a cat when you pass your hand down its glossy coat in the right direction.] " Will you allow me, sir, to give your hair a good brushing, sir, before I dress it? I always like to take the greatest pains with the hair of my quality customers. Do you know, sir, that I had the honor of dressing his grace's hair for a whole fortnight together, once when my brother-in-law was ill ; and though pVaps I oughtn't to say it, his grace expressed the highest satisfaction at my exertions, sir." '"Pon my life, and J should say you were an uncommon good hand — I've known lots worse, I assure you — men that would have spoiled the best head of hair going, by Jove !" " Sir, you're very kind. I assure you, sir, that to do justice to a gent's hair requires an uncommon deal of practice, and a sort of nat'ral talent for it besides. Lord, sir! how much depends on a gent's hair, don't it! Of two coming into a room, it makes all the difference, sir ! Believe me, sir, it's no use being weU-dressed, nay, nor good-looking, if as how the hair a'n't done — what I call — correct 1" " By Jove, I really think you're nigh about the mark," said Titmouse ; and after a pause, during which Mr. Twirl had been brushing away at one particular part of the head with some vehemence ; " well," he exclaimed, with a sigh, ceasing for a moment his vigorous exertions, " I'm blest if I can manage it, do what I wUl 1" "Eh? What's that? What is it ?" inquired Titmouse, a little alaimedly. " Why, sir, if s what we gents, in our profession, calls a feather, which is the most hobstinatest thing in nature." " What's a feather?" quoth Titmouse, rather faintly. " You see, sir, 'tis when a small lot of hair on a gent's head will stick up, do aU we can to try and get it down ; and (excuse me, sir), you've got a regular rattler !" Titmouse put up his hand to feel. Twirl guiding it to the fatal spot ; there it was, just as Twirl had described it. " What's to be done ?" murmured Titmouse. " I'm afraid, sir, you don't use our ostkich geease and khinoceiios MABROW, sir." " Your what 1" cried Titmouse, apprehensively, with a dismally distinct recollection of the tragedy of the Cyanochaitanthropopoion, and the Da- mascus Cream, and the Tetaragmenon Abracadabra ; matters which he at once mentioned to Mr. Twirl. "Ah, it's not my custom, sir," quoth Twirl, "to run down other gents' inventions ; but my real opinion is, that they're all an imposition — a rank imposition, sir. I didn't like to say it, sir; but I soon saw there had been somebody a-practising on your hair." " What, is it very plain ?" cried Titmouse, with a kind of horror, starting up and stepping to the glass. " No, sir — not so very plain ; only you've got, as I might say, accustomed to the sight of it ; but when it's properly curled, and puckered up, and frizzed about, it won't show — nor the feather neither, sir ; so, by your leave, here goes, sir ;" and, after about a quarter of an hour's more labor, he sue- TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 383 ceeded in parting it right down the middle of the head, bringing it out into a bold curl towards each eyebrow, and giving our friend quite a new and fascinating appearance, even in his own eyes. And as for the color — it really was not so marked after all ; a little purple-hued and mottled, to be sure, in parts, but not to a degree to attract the eye of a casual observer. Twirl having declared, at length, his labors completed — regarding Tit- mouse's head with a look of proud satisfaction — Titmouse paid him half-a- crown, and also ordered a pot of ostrich grease and of rhinoceros marrow (the one being SMe«, the other lard, differently scented and colored), and was soon left at liberty to proceed with the important duties of the toilet. It took him a good while ; but in the end he was supremely successful. He wore black tights (i. e., pantaloons fitting closely to his legs, and tied round his ankles with black ribbons), silk stockings, and shoes with glit- tering silver buckles. His white neckerchief was tied with great elegance, not a wrinkle superfluous being visible in it. His shirt-front of lace had two handsome diamond pins, connected together by a little delicate gold- chain, glistening in the midst of it. Then he had a white waistcoat edge, next a crimson one, and lastly a glorious sky-blue satin waistcoat, spangled all over with gold flowers inwrought — and across it hung his new gold watch-guard, and his silver guard for his eye-glass, producing an incon- ceivably fine effect. On the little finger of each hand he wore a massive- chased gold ring. His coat was of a light brown, of exquisite cut, fitting him as closely as if he had been born in it, and with burnished brass buttons, of sugar-loaf shape. 'Twas padded also with great judgment, and really took off more of his round-shouldered awkwardness of figure than any coat he had ever worn before. Then he had a fine white pocket-handkerchief, soaked in lavender water ; and immaculate white kid gloves. Thus habited, he stood before his glass, bowing fifty different times, and adjusting his expression to various elegant forms of address. He was particularly struck with the combined effect of the two curls of his hair towards each eye, and the hair underneath his chin curved upwards on each side of his mouth in complete symmetry. I have ascertained from Mr. Titmouse himself, that on this memorable occasion of his first introduction to nobility, every item of dress and decoration was entirely new ; and when at length his labors had been completed, he felt great composure of mind, and a con- sciousness of the decisive effect which he must needs produce upon those into whose presence he was so soon to be ushered. His "carriage" was presently announced; and after keeping it standing for a few minutes, which he conceived to be usual with fine people, he gently placed his hat upon his head, drew on one glove, took his little ebony cane in his hand, and, with a hurried inward prayer that he might be equal to the occasion, stepped forth from his apartment, and passed on to the glass-coach. Such a brilliant little figure, I will take upon myself to say, had never before issued, nor will perhaps ever again issue, from the Cabbage-stalk Hotel. The waiters whom he passed, inclined towards him with instinctive rever- ence. He was very fine, to be sure ; but who could, they justly thought, be dressed too finely that had ten thousand a year, and was gone to dine with a lord in Grosvenor Square 7 384 TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. Titmouse was soon on his way towards that at once desired and dreaded region. He gazed witli a look of occasional pity and contempt, as he passed along, at the plebeian pedestrians, and the lines of shops on each side of the narrow streets, till increasing indications of superior modes of existence presented themselves; and then he began to feel not a little fidgety and nervous. The streets grew wider ; the squares greater ; hack- ney coaches, unsightly objects, became fewer and fewer, giving place to splendid vehicles — coaches and chariots — with one, two, and even three powdered footmen, in elegant liveries, clustering behind, with long canes, cockades, and shoulder-knots; crimson, blue, green, bear and tiger-skin hammercloths, with burnished coronets and crests upon them ; sleek coach- men with wigs and three-cornered hats, and horses that pawed the ground with very pride ; ladies within, glistening in satin, lace, and jewels — their lords beside them, leaning back with countenances so stem and haughty. Oh, by all that was grand and tremendous ! , Titmouse felt himself getting now within the very vortex of greatness and fashion, and experienced a frequent fluttering and catching of the breath, and a sense of indefinite distressing apprehension. He was, however, now in for it — and there was no retreat. As he neared Grosvenor Square, he heard, ever and anon, terrific thundering noises at the doors opposite which these splendid vehi- cles had drawn up — as if the impatient footmen were infuriate because the doors did not fly open of liemselves at the sound of the approaching carri- age-wheels. At length he entered Grosvenor Square, that "pure empyrean" of earthly greatness. Carriages rolled calmly and haughtily past him, others dashed desperately in difierent directions. At each side of Lord Dreddlington's house were carriages setting down with tremendous uproar, Mr. Titmouse felt his color going, and his heart began to beat much faster than usual. 'Twas quite in vain that he "hemmed" two or three times, by way of trying to re-assure himself : he felt that his hour was come, and would have been glad, at the moment, of any decent excuse for driving off home again, and putting ofl" tte evil day a little longer. Opposite the dreaded door had now drawn up Mr. Titmouse's glass-coach; and the decent coachman — whose, well-worn hat, and long, clean, but threadbare blue coat, and ancient-lopking top-boots, bespoke their wearer's thrifti- ness — slowly alighting, threw the reins on his quiet horses' backs and gave a modest rat-tat-tat-tai-tat at the door, without ringing. "What name shall I give, sir?" said he, returning to his coach, and letting down the loud clanking steps, with such a noise as seemed to indi- cate his desire to show the solid metal structure of them. " Titmouse — Mr. Titmouse ;" replied our fi-iend hurriedly, as the lofty door was thrown open by the corpulent porter ; disclosing several footmen in light blue liveries, with silver shoulder^knots, and powdered heads, standing in the hall waiting for him. " Mr. Titmouse !" exclaimed the coachman to the servants : then, having returned to the coach — "When shall I come back for you, sir?" he in- quired of his flustered fare. " Demme, sir — don't bother me," faltered Titmouse, quitting the vehicle with great trepidation ; and the next moment he was in the hands of tha TEN TBOVSAND A TEAR. 885 Philistines — the hall door was closed upon him. All his presence of mind had evaporated ; the excellent lessons given him by Mr. Gammon had disappeared like breath from the surface of a mirror. Though Lord Dred- dliagton's servants had never before seen in the house so strange an object as poor little Titmouse, they were of far too highly polished manners to appear to notice anything unusual. They silently motioned him up stairs with a bland, courteous air, he carrying his little agate-headed cane in one hand and his new hat in the other. A gentlemanly person, in a full black dress suit, opened the drawing-room door for him, with an elegant inclina- tion, which Titmouse gracefully returned. A faint mist seemed to be in the drawing-room for a second or two, during which Titmouse heard hia name gently whispered by the gentleman who had introduced him ; quickly clearing away, however, he beheld, at the upper end, but two figures, that of an old gentleman and a young lady — they were, in fact, the Earl of Dreddlington, and Lady Cecilia. Now, if truth must be told, that great man had been not a whit behindhand, in the matter of dress, with the little creature now trembling before him; being, in truth, full as anxious to make an effective first appearance in the eyes of Mr. Titmouse as he in those of the Earl of Dreddlington. And each had, in his way, completely succeeded. There was little or no substantial difference between them. The Bight Honorable the Earl of Dreddlington was an old experienced fool, and Tittlebat Titmouse a young inexperienced one. They were the same species of plant, but had grown in different soils. The one had had to struggle through a neglected existence by the dusty, hard roadside of life ; the other had had all the advantage of hot-house cultivation — its roots striking deep into, and thriving upon, the rich manure of sycophancy and adulation 1 We have seen how anxious was our little friend to appear as became the occasion, before his great kinsman ; who, in his turn, had sev- eral times during the day anticipated with calm satisfaction the impression which must be produced upon the mind of Titmouse by the sudden dis- play, in the earl's person, of the subUmest distinctions which society can bestow, short of royalty. It had once or twice occurred to him whether he could find any fair excuse for appearing in his full general's uniform ; but on maturer reflection, governed by that simplicity and severity of taste which ever distinguished him, he had abandoned that idea, and appeared in a plain blue coat, white waistcoat, and black knee-breeches. But on his left breast glittered one or two foreign orders, and across his waistcoat was the broad red ribbon of the Bath. EQs hair was white and fine ; his cold blue eye and haughty lip gave him an expression of severe dignity ; and he stood erect as an arrow. Lady Cecilia reclined on the sofa, with an air of languor and ermui which had become habitual to her ; she was dressed in glistening white satin, with a necklace of large and beautiful pearls. The earl was standing in an attitude of easy grace to receive his guest, as to whose personal appearance, by the way, he was quite in the dark — Mr. Titmouse might be a great or a little man, and forward or bashful ; and require a corresponding demeanor and address on the part of the earl. " Gracious powers I" he involuntarily exclaimed to himself, the instant his eye caught sight of Titmouse, who approached slowly, making profound 886 TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. and foTmal obeisanfces. The earl stood rooted to the spot which he had occupied when Titmouse entered. If his servants had turned an ape into the drawing-room, his lordship could scarcely have felt or exhibited greater amazement than he now experienced lor a moment. "Ah, heavens!" thought he, '' what a fool have we here 1 what creature is this ?" Then it flashed across his mind — " May this be the future Lord DKELrsrcouKT?" He was on the point of recoiling from his suddenly-discovered kinsman in dismay, (as for Lady Cecilia, she gazed at him, through her glass, in silent horror, after a faint exclamation, on his first becoming visible, of "Oh, heavens, papal") when his habitual self-command came to his assistance in undoubtedly a difficult situation ; andj advancing slowly a step or two towards Titmouse — who, after a hurried glance around him, saw no place to deposit his hat and cane upon except the floor, on which he dropped them^-the earl extended his hand, slightly compressed the tips of Titmouse's fingers, and bowed courteously, but with infinite concern in his features. " I am happy, Mr. Titmouse, to make your acquaintance," said the earl, slowly. "Sir, I have the honor to present you to my daughter, 'the Lady Cecilia.'' Titmouse, who by this time had got into a sort of cold sweat — a condition from which the earl was really not far removed — made a pro- found and formal bow (he had been taking lessons from a posture-master to one of the theatres), first to the earl and then to Lady Cecilia, who rose about two inches from the sofa, with an almost audible sigh, and then sank back again upon it, without removing her eyes from the figure of Titmouse, who went on bowing, first to the one and then to the other, till the earl had engaged him in conversation. " It gives me pleasure, sir,'' commenced his lordship, "to see that you are punctual in your engagements. I am so, too, sir ; and owe to it no small portion of my success which I may have had in life. Punctuality, sir, in small matters, leads to punctuality in great matters." This was said deliberately, and with a sort of freezing grandeur. " Oh, yes, my lord 1 quite so, your lordship," stammered Titmouse, sud- denly recollecting a part of Gammon's instructions ; " to be sure — ^wouldn't have been behind time for a minute, my lord ; uncommon bad manners, if it please your lordship-^- — " " Will you be seated, sir?" interrupted the earl, dignifiedly motioning him to a chait, and then sitting down beside him, after which his lordship seemed for a second or two to forget himself, staring in silence at Tit- mouse, and then in consternation at Lady Cecilia. " I-I — " said he, sud- denly recollecting himself, "beg your pardon — sir, I mean — I congratulate you upon — ^your recent success. Sir, it must have been rather a surprise to you ?" "Oh, yes, sir — my lord, most uncommon, may it please your lordship — particular — but right is right — ^please your lordship-- — " ■ ["Oh, heavens! merciful heavens! How horrid is all this! Am I awake, or only dreaming? 'Tis an idiot — and what's worse, a vulgar idiot! And this thing may become Lord Drelinconrt ?" This was what was pass- ing through Lord Dreddlington's mind, while his troubled eye was fixed upon Titmouse.] TEN THOVSANl) A YEAR. 387 " It is, indeed, Mr. Titmouse," replied his lordship, " very ttue ; sir, what you say is correct. Quite so ; exactly^" His eye was fixed on Tit- mouse, but his words were uttered, as it were, mechanically, and in a musing manner. It flitted for a moment across his mind whether he should Ting the bell, and order the servant to show out of the house the fearful imp which had just been shown into it ; but at that critical moment he detected poor Titmouse's eye fixed with a kind of reverent intensity upon his lordship's glittering orders. 'Twas a lucky look, that, for Titmouse, since it began to melt away the ice which had suddenly incrusted the little heart of his aug\ist relative. 'Twas evident that the poor young man had not been accustomed to society, thought the earl, with an approach towards the compassionate mood. He was frightftilly dressed, to be sure ; and as for his speech, he was manifestly overawed by the presence in which he found himself; [that thought inelted a little more of the ice.] Yet, was it not evident that he had some latent power of appreciating real distinction, when he beheld it ? [his lordship's little heart here lost all its surrounding ice.] And again ; — he has actually thrust out the intolerable Aubrey, and is now lawful owner of Yatton — of ten thotjsand a yeah " Did you see the review to-day, sir ?" inquired the earl, rather blandly. " His Majesty was there, sir, and seemed to enjoy the scene." Titmouse, with a timid air, said that he had not seen it, as he had been at a boat-race upon the river ; and after a few more general observations — " Will you per- mit me, sir ? It is from A quakter requiring the highest — a-hem !" said, the earl, as a note was brought him, which he immediately opened and read. Lady Cecilia, also, appearing to be reading. Titmouse had a mo- ment's breathing time and interval of relief. What would he have given, he thought, for some other person, or several persons, to come in and divide the attention — the intolerably oppressive action of the two august individ- uals then before him I He seized the opportunity to cast a furtive glance around the room. It opened into a second, which opened into a third ; how spacious, each, and lofty ! And glittering glass chandeliers in each ! What chimney and pier glasses I What rich flowered satin curtains — they must have cost twelve or fourteen shillings a yard at least. The carpets, of the finest Brussels — and they felt like velvet to the feet; then the brackets of marble and gold, with snowy busts, statues, and vases glisten- ing upon each ; chairs so delicate, and gilded all over — he almost feared to sit down on them. What would the Quirks and Tag-rags think of this I Faugh — only to think for a moment of Alibi House and Satin Lodge! Then there was the Lady Cecilia — a lady of high rank ! How rich her dress — and how haughtily beautiful she looked as she reclined upon the sofa I [she was in fact busy conning over the new opera, which was to come out the next evening.] And the Earl of Dreddlington — there he was, reading, doubtless, some letter from the king, or one of the royal family — a man of great rank — resplendent in his decorations — all just according to what he had seen in pictures, and heard and read of — what must that red ribbon have cost ? [Ay, indeed, poor Lord Dreddlington, it had cost you the labor of half a life of steadfast sycophancy, of watchful manceuvring, and desperate exertion I And at last, the minister tossed it to you in a 388 TEN. THOUSAND A YEAR. moment of disgust and despair^mortaUy perplexed by the conflicting claims of two sulky dukes and a querulous old marquis, each of whom threatened to withdraw his "influence and support," if his rival's claims were preferred I] He had never seen any of such a breadth. It must have been manufuctured on purpose for the eaxll How white were his hands! and he had an antique massive signet-ring on his forefinger, and two glit- tering rings at least on each of his little fingers— positively Titmouse at length began to regard him almost as a gpd ; and yet. the amazing thought occurred that this august being was aUied to him by the ties of relation- ship. Such were the thoughts and reflections passing through the mind of Titmouse during the time that Lord Dreddlington was eagaged in reading his letter, and afterwards during the brief intervals elapsing between the various observations addressed to him by his lordship. The gentleman in bladi at length entered the room, and advancing slowly and noiselessly towards the earl, said in a gentlemanlike manner, " Dinner, my lord," and retired. Into what new scenes of splendid embar- rassment was this the signal for Mr. Titmouse's introduction ? thought our friend, and trembled. " Mr, Titmouse, wUl you give your arm to the Lady Cedlia ?" said the earl, motioning him to the sofe. , tip jumped Titmouse, and approached hastily the recumbent beauty; who languidly arose, arranged her, train with one hand, and with the other, having drawn on her glove, barely touched the proffered arm of Titmouse, extended towards her at an acute angle, and at right angles with his own body — staramering, " Honor to take your ladyship — uncommon proud — this way, my lady." Lady Cecilia took no more notice of him than if he had .been a dumb waiter, walking beside him in silence — the earl following. To think that a nobleman of high rank was walking behind him I Would to heaven, thought the embarrassed Titmouse, that he had two fronts, one for the earl behind, and ;the other to be turned fall towards Lady Cecilia I The tall servants, powdered and in light blue liveries, stood like a guard of honor around the/ dining-room door. That room was extensive and lofty; what a solitary sort of state were they about to dine in I Titmouse felt cold, though it was summer, and trembled as he followed rather than led his haughty partner to her seat ; and then was motioned into hia own by the earl, himself sitting down opposite an antique silver soup tureen 1 A servant stood behind Lady Cecilia; another behind Tit- mouse ; and a third on the left of the earl ; while on his right, between his lordship and the glistening sideboard, stood a portly gentleman in black, with a bald head and — ^Titmouse thought — a somewhat haughty counte- nance. Though Titmouse had touched nothing since breakfast he felt not the slightest inclination to eat,; and would have given the world to have dared to say as much, and be at once relieved from a vast deal of anxiety. Is it indeed easy to conceive of a fellow-creature in a state of more com- plete thraldom, at that moment, than poor Titmouse 7 A little animal under the suddenly exhausted receiver of an air-pump, or a fish just plucked out of its own element, and flung gasping and struggling upon the grass, may serve to assist your conceptions of the position and suffering of Mr. TEN THOUSAND A YMAE. 389 Titmouse. The earl, who was on the look-out for it, observed his condi- tion with secret but complete satisfaction ; here he beheld the legitimate effect of rank and state upon the human mind. Titmouse got through the soup — of which about half-ardozen spoonfuls only were put into his plate — ^pretty fairly. Anywhere else than at Lord Dreddlington's, Titmouse would have thought it poor, thin, watery stuff, with a few green things chopped up and swimming in it ; but now. he perceived that it had a sort of superior flavor. How some red mullet, enclosed in paper, puzzled poor Titmouse, is best known to himself. " The Lady Cecilia will take wine with you,' Mr. Titmouse, I daresay, by-and-by," observed the earl, blandly ; and in a moment's time the servants, ■with deliberation, poured wine into the two glasses. "Your ladyship's health, my lady" — faltered Titmouse. She slightly bowed, and a faint smile glimmered at the corners of her mouth^— but unobserved by Titmouse. " I think you said, Mr. Titmouse," quoth the earl, some time afterwards, " that you had not yet taken possession of Yatton ?" " No, my lord ; but I go down the day after to-morrow — quite — if I may say it, my lord — quite in style" — answered Titmouse, with humble and hesitating jocularity of manner. "Ha, ha I" exclaimed the earl, gently. " Had you any acquaintance with the Aubreys, Mr. Titmionse ?" inquired the Lady Cecilia. "No, my lady — yes, your ladyship (I beg your ladyship's pardon) — but now I think of it, I had a slight acquaintance with Miss Aubrey." [Tit- mouse, Titmouse, you little wretch !] "She is considered pretty in the country, I believe," drawled Lady Cecilia, languidly. "Oh, most uncommon lovely I — middling, only middling, my lady, I should say," added Titmouse, suddenly, having observed, as he fancied, rather a displeased look in Lady Cecilia. He had begun his sentence with more energy than he had yet shown in the house, but finished it hastily, and colored as he spoke,' feieliii'g that he had, somehow or another, com- mitted himself. " Do you form a new establishment at Yatton, sir ?" inquired the earl, " or take to any part of that of your predecessor ?" "I have not, please your lordship, made up my mind yet exactly^- should like to know you lordship's opinion." " Why, sir, I should be governed by circumstances — ^by circumstances, sir; when you get there, sir, you will be better, able to judge of the course you should pursue." Titmouse made an humble obeisance. " Do you intend, Mr. Titmouse, to live in town, or in the country ?" inquired Lady Cecilia. "A little of both, my lady; but mostly in town, because, as your lady- ship sees, the country is devilish dull — 'pon my life, my lady — my lord^ beg a thousand pardons," he suddenly added, bowing to both, and blush- ing violently. Here he had committed himself, and awfully; but his august companions bowed to him kindly, and he presently recovered a measure of self-possession. S90 TEN THOUSAND A TEAR. ■'Are you fond of huntiBg, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired the eari. " Why, my lord, can't exactly Bay that I am ; but your lordship sees cases alter circumstances, and when I- get down there among the country gents, pVaps I may do as they do, my lord." " I presume, Mr. Titmouse, you have scarcely chosen a town residence. yet ?" inquired Lady Cecilia. r " No, my lady — not fixed it yet ; was thinking of taking Mr. Aubrey's house in Grosvenor street, understanding it is to be sold;" then turning towards the earl, " because, as your lordship sees, I was thinking of get- ting into both the nests of the old' birds, while both are warm," he added, with a faint smile. " Exactly ; yes — I see, sir — ^I understand you," replied Lord Dreddling- ton, sipping his wine. His manner rather discomposed Titmouse, to whom it then naturally occurred that the earl might be warmly attached to the Aubreys, and not relish their being spoken of so lightly; so^ Titmouse hastily and anxiously added, '■ your lordship sees I was most particular sorry to make the Aubreys turn out. A most uncommon respectable gent, Mr. Aubrey ; I assure your lordship I think so." " I had not the honor of his acquaintance, sir," replied the earl, coldly, and with exceeding stiflftiess, which flustered Titmouse not a little ; and a pause occurred in the conversation for nearly a minute. Dinner had now considerably advanced, and Titmouse was beginning to grow a little familiar with the routine of matters. Remembering Gammon's caution concerning the'wine, and also observing how little was drunk by his noble host and hostess. Titmouse did the same, and during the whole of the dinner had scarcely three full glasses of wine. " How long is it," inquired the earl, addressing his daughter, " since the Aubreys took that house ?" Lady Cecilia could not say. " Stay ; now I recollect, — surely it was just before my appointment to the Household. Yes; it was about that time, I now recollect. I am alluding, Mr. Titmouse," continued the earl, addressing him in a gracious manner, "to an appoint- ment under the Grown of some little distinction, which I was solicited to accept at the personal instance of his Majesty, on the occasion of our party coming into power,-^^! mean that of Lord Steward of the Household." "Dear me, my lord! Indeed I Only to think, your lordship!" ex- claimed Titmouse, with such a profound deference in his manner as encouraged the earl to proceed. " That, sir, was an office of great importance, and I had some hesitation in undertaking its responsibility. But, sir, when I had once committed myself to my sovereign and my country, I resolved to give them my best services. I had formed plans for effectaig extensive alterations, air, in that department of the public service which I have no doubt would have given great satisfaction to the country, as soon as the nature of my inten- tions became generally understood; but faction, sir, unfortunately pre- vailed, and we were compelled to relinquish office." " Dear me, my lord 1 How particular sorry I am to hear it, my lord 1" exclaimed Titmouse, as he gazed at the baffied statesman with ssxi expres- sion of respectful sympathy. TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. 39^ " Sir, it gives rae sincere satisfaction," said the eailj after a pause, " to hear that our political opinions agree " " Oh yes, my lord ! quite ; mre of that " " I assure you, sir, that some little acquaintance with the genius and spirit of the British constitution has satisfied me that this country can never be safely or advantageously governed except on sound Whig prin- ciples." He paused. " Yes, my lord ; it's quite true," interposed Titmouse, reverentially. "That, sir^ is the only way I know of by which aristocratic institutions can be brought to bear effectively upon, to blend harmoniously with, the interests of the lower orders — the people, Mr. Titmouse." Titmouse thought this wonderfully fine, and sat listening as to an oracle of political wisdom. The earl, observing it, began to form a much higher opinion of his little kinsman. "The unfortunate gentleman, your predecessor at Yatton, sir, if he had but allowed himself to have been guided by those who had mixed in public affairs before he was bom," said tlie earl, with great dignity " 'Pon my word, my lord, he was, I've heard, a d — Tory I — Oh, my lady ! my lord ! humbly beg pardon," he added, turning pale ; but the fatal word had been uttered, and heard by both, and he felt as if he could have sunk through the fioor. " Shall I have the honor of taking another glass of wine with you, sir ?" inquired the earl, rather gravely and severely, as if wishing Mr. Titmous? fully to appreciate the fearful breach of etiquette of which he had just been guilty, by swearing in such a presence. After they had bowed to each other, a sufiiciently awkward pause occurred, which was at length broken by the considerate Lady Cecilia. " Are you fond of the opera, Mr. Titmouse ?" "Very, my lady — ^most particular," replied Titmouse, who had, been there once only. "Do you. prefer the opera or the ballet? I mean the music or the dancing ?" " Oh, I understand your ladyship. 'Pon my word, my lady, I prefer them both. The dancing is most uncommon superior ; though I must say, my lady, the lady dancers there do most uncommonly — ralker, I should say" — He stopped abruptly ; his face flushed, and he felt as if he had burst into a perspiration. What the deuce was he about? It seemed as if some devil within were urging him on, from time to time, to commit himself Another word, and out would have come his opinion as to the shocking indecency of the ballet. "1 understand you, sir; I quite agree with you," said Lady Cecilia, calmly ; "the ballet does indeed come on at a sad late hour ; I often wish they would now and then have the ballet first." "'Pon my life, my lady," quoth Titmouse, eagerly snatching at the plank which had been thrown to him, " that is what I meant — nothing else, upon my soul, your ladyship!" " Do you Intend taking a box there, Mr. Titmouse ?" inquired her lady- ship, with an appearance of interest in the expected answer. 392 TEN THOUSAND A YEAE. " Why, your ladyship, they say a box there is a precious long figure j but in course, my lady, when I've got to rights a little with my property — your ladyship understands — I shall do the correct thing." Here a long pause ensued. How dismally quiet and deliberate was everything 1 The very servants, how noiselessly they waited I Everything done just when it was wanted, yet no hurry, or bustle, or noise ; and they looked so composed — so much at their ease. He fancied that they had scarce anything else to do than look at him, and watch all his movements ; which greatly embarrassed him, and he began to hate them. He tried hard to inspirit himself with a reilection upon his own suddenly acquired and really great personal importance ; absolute master of ten thousand a year, a Telation of the great man at whose table he sat, and whose hired servants they were ; but then his timorously raised eye would light for an instant upon the splendid insignia of the earl, and he felt as oppressed as ever. What would he not have given for a few minutes' interval, and sense of complete freedom and . independence ? And were these to be his feelings ever hereafter ? Was this the sort of tremulous apprehension of offence and embarrassment as to his every move to which he was to be doomed in high life ? Oh, that he had been bom to it, like the earl and the Lady Cecilia I " Were you ever in the House of Lords, Mr. Titmouse ?" inquired Lord Dreddlington suddenly, after casting about for some little time for a topic on which he might converse with Titmouse. " No, my lord, never — should most uncommon like to see it, my lord," replied Titmouse, eagerly, "Certainly, it is an impressive spectacle, sir, and well worth seeing," said the earl, solemnly. " I suppose, my lord, your lordship goes there every day ?" "Why, sir, I believe I am pretty punctual in my attendance, T was there to-day, sir, till the House rose. Sir, I am of opinion that hereditary legislators — a ptactical anomaly in a free state like this, but one which has innumerable unperceived advantages to recommend it — Sir, our country expects at our hands, in discharge of so grave a trust — in short, if we were not to be true to it — we who are in a peculiar sense the guardians of public liberty — if WB were once to betray our trust — Let me trouble you, sir, for a little of that ," said the earl, using some foreign word which Tit- mouse had never heard of before, and looking towards a delicately^soni structed fabric, as of compressed snow, which stood before Titmouse. A servant was in a twinkling beside him, with his lordship's plate. Ah me ! that I should have to relate so sad an event as presently occurred to Tit- mouse ! He took a spoon ; and, imagining the glistening fabric before him to be as solid as it looked, brought to bear upon it an adequate degree of force, even as if he had been going to scoop out a piece of Stilton cheese, and inserting his spoon at the summit of the snowy and deceitful structure, souse to the bottom went spoon, hand, coat-cuff and all, and a very dismal noise evidenced that the dish on which the aforesaid spoon had descended with so much force was no longer a disji. It was, in fact, broken in halves, and the liquid from within ran about on the cloth. ... A cluster of ser- 7 EN THOUSAND A YEAR. 393 vants wad quickly around him. ... A mist came over his eyes ; the color deserted his cheek ; and he had a strange feeling, as if verily the end of all things was at hand. " I beg you will think nothing of it^for it really signifies nothing at all, Mr. Titmouse," said the earl kindly, observing his agitation. "Oh dear! oh my lord — your ladyship — what an uncommon stupid ass !" faltered Titmouse. " Pray don't distress yourself, Mr. Titmouse," said Lady Cecilia, really feeling for his evident misery, " or you will distress us." "I beg — humbly beg pardon — please your lordship— your ladyship. I'U replace it with the best in London the first thing in the morning." Here the servant beside him, who was arranging the tablecloth, uttered a faint soimd of suppressed laughter, which disconcerted Titmouse still more. " Give yourself no concern— 'tis only a trifle, Mr. Titmouse 1 You under- stand, ha, ha?" said the earl, kindly. "But if your lordship will only allow me — expense is no object. I know the very best shop in Oxford street." " Suppose we take a glass of champagne together, Mr. Titmouse ?" said the earl, rather peremptorily ; and Titmouse had sense enough to be aware that he was to drop the subject. It was a good while before he recovered even the little degree of self-possession which he had had since first enter- ing Lord DreddUngton's house. He had afterwards no distinct recollection of the manner in which he got through the rest of his dinner, but a general sense of his having been treated with the most kind and delicate forbear- ance — no fuss made. Suppose such an accident had occurred at Satin Lodge, or even Alibi House I Shortly after the servants had withdrawn, Lady Cecilia rose to retire. Titmouse, seeing the earl approaching the bell, anticipated him in ringing it, and then darted to the door with the speed of a lamplighter to open it, as he did, just before a servant had raised his hand to it on the outside. Then he stood within, and the servant without, each bowing, and Lady Cecilia passed between them with stately step, her eyes fixed upon the ground, and her lip compressed with the effort to check her inclination to a smile — ^perhaps, even laughter. Titmouse was now left alone with Lord Dreddlington ; and, on resuming his seat, earnestly renewed his entreaties to be allowed to replace the dish which he had broken, assuring Lord Dreddlington that " money was no object at all." He was encountered, however, with so stern a negative by his lordship,*that, with a hurried apology, he dropped the subject ; but the earl good-naturedly added that he had perceived the johe intended by Mr. Titmouse, which was certainly an excellent one ! This would have set off poor Titmouse again ; but a glance at the face of his magnificent host sealed his lips. " I have heard it said, Mr. Titmouse," presently commenced the earl, " that you have been engaged in mercantile pursuits during the period of your exclusion from the estates which you have just recovered ? Is it so, sir?" " Ye-e-eH3, sir, my lord," replied Titmouse, hastily considering whether or not he should altogether sink the shop ; but he dared hardly venture 394 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. upon so very decisive a lie. " I was, please your lordship, in one of the greatest establishments in the mercery line ia London — at the west end, my lord ; most confidential, my lord ; management of everything ; bjjt, somehow, my lord, I never took to U — always felt a cut above it — ^your lordship understands ?" "Perfectly, sir; I can quite appreciate your feelings. But, sir, the mercantile interests of this great country are not to be overlooked 1 Those who are concerned in them are frequently respectable persons." , " Begging pardon, my lord — no, they a'n't — ^if your lordship only knew them as well as I do, my lord. Most uncommon low people. Do anything to turn a penny, my lord ; and often sell damaged goods for best." " It is very possible, sir, that there may exist irregularities, eccenirieiiies, ha, ha ! of that description ; but upon the whole, sir, I am disposed to think that there are many decent persons engaged in trade. I have had the happiness, sir, to assist in passing measures that were calculated, by removing restrictions and protective duties, to secure to this country the benefits of free and universal competition. We have been proceeding, sir, for many years on altogether a wrong principle — that of protecting native industry and enterprise ; but, not to follow out this matter fiirthea', I must remind you, sir, that your acquaintance with the principles and leading detaUs of mercantile transactions^undoubtedly one of the -mainsprings of the national greatness — may hereafter be of use to you, sir." " Yes, my lord, 'pon my soul — when I'm furnishing my houses in town and country, I mean to go to market myself — please your lordship, I know a trick or two of the trade, and can't be taken in, my lord. For instance, my lord, there's Tag-rag — a-hem ! hem !" he paused abruptly, and looked somewhat confusedly at the earl. " I did not mean that, exactly," said his lordship, unable to resist a smile. "Pray, fill your glass, Mr. Titmouse." He did so. "You are of course aware that you have the absolute patronage of the borough of Yatton, Mr. Titmouse? It occurs to me, that as our political opinions agree, and unless I am presumptuous, sir, in so thinking— I may be regarded, in a political point of view, as the head of the family— you understand me, I hope, Mr. Titmouse?" " Exactly, my lord— 'pon my soul, it's all correct, my lord." " Well— then, sir, the family interests, Mr. Titmouse, must be looked after- — " " Oh ! in course, m^ lord, only too happy— certainly, my lord, we shall, I hope, make a very interesting family, if your lordship so pleases— I can have no objection, my lord." " It was a vile, a disgraceful trick, by which ministers popped in their own man for our borough, Mr. Titmouse." [Lord Dreddlington alluded to the circumstance of a new writ having been moved for, immediately on Mr. Aubrey's acceptance of the Chiltern Hundreds, and, before the Opposition could be prepared for such a step, the Government had sent down, without delay, to Yatton, and Sir Per- cival Pickering, Bart., of Luddington Court, an intimate friend of Mr. Aubrey's, and a keen, unflinching Tory, being returned as member, TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 395 before the Titmouse influence could be brought for even one moment into the field ; the few and willing electors of that ancient and loyal borough being only too happy to have the opportunity of voting for a man whose principles they approved — ^probably the last they would have of doing so.] " Yes, my lord — Sir What-d'ye-call-him was a triile too sharp for us in that business, wasn't he ?" " It has succeeded, sir, for the moment, but" — continued his lordship in a significant and stately manner — "it is quite possible that their triumph may be of short duration, Mr. Titmouse. Those who, like myself, are at headquarters — let me see you fill your glass, Mr. Titmouse — I have the honor to congratulate you, sir, on the recovery of your rights, and to wish you health and long life in the enjoyment of them," quofli the earl, with an air of the loftiest urbanity. " May it please your lordship, your lordship's most uncommon polite,'" commenced Titmouse, rising and standing while he spoke — for he had had experience enough of society to be aware that when a gentleman's health is drunk on important occasions, it becomes him to rise and acknowledge the compliment in such language as he can command — " and am particu- larly proud — a-a — I beg to propose, my lord, your lordship's very superior good health, and many thanks." Then he sat down; each poured out another glass of claret, and Titmouse drank his off. " It is extremely singular, sir," said the earl, musingly, after a consider- able pause, " the reverses in life that one hears of I Doubtless there is some very good reason for their being allowed to happen." f I cannot help pausing for a moment, to suggest, what must have become of the earl and his daughter, had they been placed in the situation of the unfortunate Aubreys ?] " Yes, my lord, your lordship's quite true, 'pon my word ! Most un- common ups and downs ! Lord, my lord, only to fancy me, a few months ago, trotting up and down Oxford street with my yard mea " He stopped short, and colored violently. " Well, sir," replied the earl, with an expression of bland and dignified sympathy, " however humble might have been your circumstances, it is a consolation to reflect that the Fates ordained it. Sir, there is nothing dis- honorable in being poor, when you cannot help it. Keverses of fortune, sir, have happened to some of the greatest characters in our history. You remember Alfred, sir?" Titmouse bowed assentingly; but had he been questioned, could have told, I suspect, as little about the matter as a hedge- hog — or pace tarUi viri — the earl himself. " Allow me, sir, to ask whether you have come to any arrangement with your late opponent concerning the back-rents ?" inquired the earl, with a great appearance of interest. " No, my lord, not yet ; but my solicitors say they'll soon have the screw on, please your lordship — that's just what they say — their very words." "Indeed, sir," replied the earl, gravely. "What is the sum to which they say you are entitled, sir ?" " Sixty thousand pounds, my lord, at least — quite set me up at starting. 396 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. ray lord — won't it?" replied Titmouse! with great glee; but the earl shuddered involuntarily for a moment, and sipped his wine in silence. " By the way, Mr. Titmouse," said he, after a, considerable pause ; " I trust you will forgiye me for suggesting whether it would not be a pru- dent step for you to go to one of the universities for at least a twelve- month ?" " Humbly begging your lordship's pardon, am not I too old ? I've heard they're all a pack of overgrown schoolboys there — and learn nothing but a bit of some old languages that a'n't the least use nowadays, seeing it a'n't spoke now, anywhere," replied Titmouse ; " besides, I've talked the thing over with Mr. Gammon, my lord " " Mr. Gammon ? Allow me, sir, to ask who that may be 1" " One of my solicitors, my lord ; a most remarkable clever man, and an out-and-out lawyer, my lord. It was he that found out all about my case, my lord. If your lordship was only to see him for a moment, your lord- ship would say what a remarkable clever man that is !" " You will forgive my curiosity, sir, but it must have surely required ample means to have carried on so arduous a lawsuit as that which has just terminated so successfully ?" " Oh yes, my lord 1 Quirk, Gammon & Snap did all that ; and between me and your lordship, I suppose I shall have to come down a pretty long figure, all on the nail, as your lordship understands ; but I mean them to get it all out of that respectable gent, Mr. Aubrey." By quietly pressing his questions, the earl elicited a good deal more &om Titmouse than he was aware of, concerning Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap ; and in doing BO, conceived a special dislike for Gammon. The earl gave him some pretty decisive hints about the necessity of being on his guard with such people — and hoped that he would not commit himself to anything im- portant without consulting his lordship, who would of course give him the signal advantage of his experience in the affairs of the world, and open his eyes to the designs of those whose only object was to make a prey of him. Titmouse began 1;o feel that here, at length, he had met with a real friend — one whose suggestions were worthy of being received with the profoundest deference. Soon afterwards, he had the good fortune to please the earl beyond expression, by venturing timidly to express his admiration of the splendid ribbon worn by his lordship ; who took the opportunity of explain- ing that and the other marks of distinction he wore, and others which he was entitled to wear, at great length and with much minuteness — so that he at length caused Titmouse to believe that he. Lord Dreddlingtori— the august head of the family — must have rendered more signal service, some- how or other, to his country, and also done more to win the admiration and gratitude of foreign countries and posterity, than most men of former or present times. His lordship might not, perhaps, have intended it ; but he went on till he had almost deified himself, in the estimation of his little listener. One natural question was perpetually trembling on the tip of Titmouse's tongue, viz., how and when he could get such distinctions for himself— axiA do the services that earned them ! "Well, Mr. Titmouse," at length -observed the earl, after looking at his TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 397 watch — "shall we adjourn to the drawing-room? The fact is, sir, ''that Lady Cecilia and I have an evening engagement at the Duchess of Dia- mond's, I much regret being unable to take you with us, sir ; but, as it is, shall we rejoin the Lady Cecilia?" continued his lordship, rising. Up jumped Titmouse, and the earl and he were soon iu the drawing-room, where, besides the Lady Cecilia, sat another lady, to whom he was not introduced in any way. This was Miss Macspleuchan, a distant connection of the earl's late countess— a poor relation, who had entered the house of the Earl of Dreddlington, in order to eat the bitter, bitter bread of depend- ence. Poor soul ! you might tell by a glance at her that she had not thriven upon it. She was about thirty, and so thin ! She was dressed in plain white muslin ; there were a manifest constraint and timidity about her motions, and a depression in her countenance, the lineaments of which showed, however, that if she could have been happy, she might have ap- peared handsome. She had a perfectly ladylike air ; there were thought in her brow and acuteness in her eye, which, however, as it were, habitually watched the motions of the earl and the Lady Cecilia with deference and anxiety. Poor Miss Macspleuchan felt herself gradually sinking into a sycophant — ^the alternative being that or starvation. She was conscious of warm affections and tender sensibilities, but as conscious that they were gradually withering within her — that all constituting dear, lovely woman- hood was perishing, and not a hand held out to help or save. Poor Miss Macspleuchan, how large and uncomplaining an order is that to which you belong ! of women gentle and restrained— whom a sudden word of kindness dissolves in tears — to earn but a freezing glance from haughty suspicion, jealousy, and heartlessness I She was highly accomplished, particularly in music and languages, while the Lady Cecilia really knew scarcely anything, for which reason, principally, she had long ago con- ceived a bitter dislike to IMiss Macspleuchan, and inflicted on her a num- ber of petty but exquisite mortifications and indignities, such, perhaps, as only a sensitive soul could fully appreciate ; for the earl and his daughter were exemplary persons in the proprieties of life, and would not do such things with visible coarseness. Miss Macspleuchan was a sort of companion of Lady Cecilia, and entirely dependent upon her and the earl for subsistence. She was sitting on the sofa, beside Lady Cecilia, when Titmouse re-entered the drawing-room ; the latter eyed him through her glass with infinite nonchalance, even when he had advanced to within a few feet of her. He made Miss Macspleuchan, as she rose to take her seat and prepare tea, an obsequious bow ; for, in his simplicity and ignorance, he had supposed her a lady ! Absurd as was the style of its performance, she saw that there was politeness in the intention ; it was moreover -a, courtesy towards herself that was unusual from the earl's guests ; and these considerations served to take off the edge of that ridicule and contempt with which Lady Cecilia had been preparing her to receive their newly-discovered kinsman. After standing for a second or two near the sofa, Titmouse ventured to sit down upon it — on the edge only, as if afraid of disturbing Lady Cecilia, who was reclining on it with an air of languid hauteur. 398 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. "So you're going, my lady, to a dance to-night, as my lord says?" quoth Titmouse, respectfully ; " hope your ladyship will enjoy yourself." " We regret that you do not accompany us, Mr. Titmouse," said Lady Cecilia, slightly inclining towards him, and glancing at Miss Macspleu- chan with a faint and bitter smile. "Should have been most uncommon proud to have gone, please your ladyship," replied Titmouse, as a servant brought him a cup of tea. "These cups and saucers, my lady, come from abroad, I suppose? Now, I daresay, though they've rather a fimny look, they cost a good deal ?" " I really do not know, sir ; I believe we have had them some time. I think they were my great-great-grandmamma's." "'Pon my life, my lady, 1 like* them amazing I" Seeing her ladyship not disposed to talk, Titmouse became silent. " Are you fond of music, Mr. Titmouse ?" inquired the earl presently, observing that the pause in conversation had become embarrassing to Titmouse. " Very, indeed, my lord. Is your lordship ?" "I ajn rather fond of vocal music, sir — of the opera." This the earl said because Miss Macspleuchan played upon the piano brilliantly, and also upon the harp, but did not sing. Miss Macspleuchan understood him. "Do you play upon any instrument, Mr. Titmouse?'' inquired Lady Cecilia, with a smile lurking about her lips, which increased a little when Titmouse replied in the negative, adding that he had once begun to learn the clarionet some years before, but could not manage the notes, " JExpiise me, my lady, but what an uncommon fine piano that is !" said he. " If I may make so bold, will your ladyship give us a tune ?" "I daresay Miss Macspleuchan will play for you, Mr. Titmouse, if you "wish it," replied Lady Cecilia, coldly. Some time afterwards, a servant announced to her ladyship and the earl that the carriage was at the door, and presently they both retired to their dressing-rooms to make some slight alteration in their dress, — the earl to add an order or two, and Lady Cecilia to place upon her haughty brow a small tiara of brilliants. As soon as they had thus retired, — " I shall feel great pleasure, sir, in playing for you, if you really wish it," said Miss Macspleuchan, in a voice of such mingled melancholy and kindness as must have gone to Titmouse's heart, had he possessed one. He jumped up, and bowed profoundly. She sat down to the piano, and played such music as she supposed would suit her auditor — namely, waltzes and marches — till the door opened, and Lady Cecilia reappeared, drawing on her gloves, with the glittering addition which I have mentioned, followed presently by the superbly-adorned earl. " Well, sir," said he, with dignified afiability, " I need not repeat how highly gratified I feel at our introduction to each other. I trust you will henceforth consider yourself no stranger here " "Oh, 'pon my life, my lord, your lordship's most particular polite 1" exclaimed Titmouse in a low tone, and with a sudden and profound bow. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 399 " And that on your return from Yorkshire," continued the earl, drawing on his gloves, "you will let us see you ; we both feel great interest in your good fortunes. Sir, I have the honor to wish you a good-evening !" He extended his gloved hand to his distinguished little kinsman, whose hand, however, he touched with little more than the ends of his fingers. " We exceedingly regret that we must leave you, Mr. Titmouse," said Lady Cecilia, with forced seriousness ; "but as we wish to leave the duchess's early, we must go early. Good-evening, sir;" and having dropped him a slight formal curtsy, she quitted the drawing-room, fol- lowed by the earl. Titmouse making four or five such bows as provoked a smile from aU who witnessed them. The next moment he was alone with Miss Macspleuchan. Her unaffected, good-natured address made him feel more at home within the next five minutes than he had been since enter- ing that frigid scene of foolish state — since being in the oppressive pre- sence of the greatness just departed. She felt at first a contempt for him bordering upon disgust, but which soon melted into pity. What a wretched creature was this to be put into such a dazzling position 1 What might be the design of Providence in placing such a being in the possession of such wealth and rank, at the expense of the virtuous Aubreys ? For virtuous she knew them to be, and deeply sympathized with them, but in silence. Titmouse soon got pretty communicatiye with Miss Macspleuchan, and told her about the Tag-rags, Miss Tag-rag, and Miss Quirk, both of whom were absolutely dying of love for him, and thought he was in love with them, which was not the case — far from it. Then he hinted something about a most particular uncommon lovely gal that had his heart, and he hoped to have hers, as soon as he had got all to rights at Yatton. Then he described the splendid style in which he was going down to take pos- session of his estates. Having finished this, he told her that he had been the morning before to see a man hangeid for murdering his wife ; that he had been into the condemned cell, and then into the press-room, and had seen his hands and arms tied, and shaken hands with him ; and he was going into such a sickening minuteness of detail, that to avoid it Miss Macspleuchan— who, shocked and disgusted, had grown very pale— sud- denly asked him if he was fond of heraldry. Eising fiom the sofa, she went into the second room, where, on an elegant and antique stand, lay a huge roll of parchment, on a gilded stick, splendidly mounted and superbly illuminated — it was about three-quarters of a yard in breadth, and some ten or twenty feet in length. This was the Pedigree of the Dreddlingtons. She was giving him an account of Simon de Drelincourt, an early ancestor of the earl's, who had come over with William the Conqueror, and per- formed stupendous feats of valor at the battle of Hastings, Titmouse listen- ing in open-mouthed awe, and almost trembling to think that he had broken a valuable dish belonging to a nobleman who had such wonderful ancestors ; not, at the moment, adverting to the circumstance that he was himself descended from the very same ancestors, and had as rich blood in him as the earl and Lady Cecilia — ^when a servant entered and informed him in a whisper that " his carriage had arrived." He considered that etiquette required him to depart immediately. 400 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " Beg your pardon ; but if ever you should come down to my estate in the country, shall be most uncommon proud to see your ladyship." "I beg your pardon; you are mistaken, sir," interrupted Miss Mac- spleuchan hastily, and blushing scarlet ; the fact being that Titmouse had not caught her name on its having been once or twice pronounced by Lady Cecilia ; and naturally concluded that she also must be a lady of rank. Titmouse was, however, so occupied with his eflForts to make a graceful exit, that he did not catch the explanation of his mistake ; and, bowing almost down to the ground, reached the landing, where the tall servant, with an easy grace, gave him his hat and cane, afid preceded him down stairs. As he descended, he felt in his pockets for some loose silver, and gave several shiUings between the servants who stood in the hall to wit- ness his departure ; after which, one of them having opened the door and gently let down the steps of the glass-coach. Titmouse popped into it. " Home, sir ?" inquired the servant, as he closed the door. " The Cabbage-stalk Hotel, Covent Garden," replied Titmouse, with an affected drawl. His answer was communicated to the coachman, who thereupon ad- dressed a sharp argument to the brace of meek and skinny brutes standing with downcast heads before him, which they lifted up, then they got into motion, and away rumbled the glass-coach and the distinguished scion of aristocracy which it contained. As soon as he had become calm enough to reflect upon the events of the evening, he arrived at the conclusion that the Earl of Dreddlington was a very great man indeed ; the Lady Cecilia beautiful, but rather proud ; and Miss Macspleuohan (Lady Somebody, as he supposed) one of the most interesting ladies whom he had ever met with ; that there was something uncommon pleasing about her : in short, he felt a sort of grateftd attachment towards her ; but how long it would have lasted after his hearing that she was only a plain miss, and a poor relation, I leave the acute reader to conjecture. It will be for him, also, to appreciate the entertainment which Mr. Titmouse afforded that evening to the polished occupants of the servants' hall. CHAPTER IL MR. TITMOUSE AT TATTON, AND THE SPLENDID FESTIVITIES ATTENDING HIS INAUGUEATIOK. ME. GAMMON was with Titmouse about half-past nine o'clock the next morning, not a, little anxious to hear how that young gentle- man had got on over-night ; but met with a totally different reception from any that he had before experienced. He imagined, for a few minutes, that Lord Dreddlington had been pump- ing Titmouse ; had learned from him his position with respect to Gammon, in particular, and had injected distrust and suspicion of him into the mind TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 401 .of Titmouse. But Gammon, with all his acuteness, was quite mistaken. Tlie truth was, 'twas only an attempt on the part of poor Titmouse to as- sume the composed demeanor, the languid elegance, which he had observed in the distinguished personages with whom he had spent the preceding evening, and which had made a deep impression on his little mind. He drawled out his words, looked as if he were half asleep, and continually- addressed Gammon as " Sir," and " Mr. Gammon," just as he himself had been addressed by the Earl of Dreddlington. Our friend was sitting at breakfast, on the present occasion, in a gaudy dressing-gown and yellow slippers, with the newspaper before him ; in short, his personal appearance and manner were totally different from what Gammon had ever previously witnessed ; and he looked now and then at Titmouse, as if for a moment doubting his identity. Whether or not he was now on the point of throw- ing overboard those who had piloted him from amidst the' shoals of poverty into the open sea of affluence, shone upon by the vivid sunlight of rank and distinction. Gammon did not know ; but he contracted his brow, and assumed a certain sternness and peremptoriness of tone and beajing which were not long in reducing Titmouse to his proper dimensions ; and when at length Mr. Gammon entered upon the delightful subject of the morrow's expedition, telling him that he (Gammon) had now nearly completed all the preparations for going down to and taking possession of Yatton in a style of suitable splendor, according to the wish of Titmouse, this quickly melted away the thin coating of mannerism, and Titmouse was " himself again." He immediately gave Mr. Gammon a full account of what had happened at Lord Dreddlington's, and, 1 fear, of a great deal more, which might, possibly, have happened, but certainly had not ; e. g,, his lordship's special laudation of Mr. Gammon as a, " monstrous fine lawyer," which Titmouse swore were the exact words of his lordship, who " would have been most happy to see Mr. Gammon to dinner," and a good deal to the like effect. Also that he (Titmouse) had been " most uncommon thick " with "Lady Cicely" (so he pronounced her name) ; and that both she and I/Ord Dreddlington had " pressed him very hard to go with them to a ball at a duke's 1" He made no mention of the broken trifle-dish ; said they had nearly a dozen servants to wait on them, and that there were twenty different sorts of wine, and no end of courses at dinner. That the earl wore a star, and garter, and ribbons — which Gammon conceived to be as apocryphal as the rest ; and had told him that he (Titmouse) might one day wear them, and sit in the House of Lords ; and had, moreover, ad- vised him strenuously to get into Parliament as soon as possible, as the " cause of the people wanted strengthening." [As Lord Coke somewhere says, in speaking of a spurious portion of the text of Lyttleton, " that arrow came never out of Lyttleton's quiver" — so Gammon instantly perceived that the last sentence came never out of Titmouse's own head, but came plainly ear-marked as that of a considerate and enlightened statesman.] As soon as Titmouse had finished his little romance. Gammon recurred to the chief object of his visit — their next day's journey. He said that he much regretted to inform Titmouse that Mr. Snap had exjiressed an anxious wish to witness the triumph of Mr. Titmouse ; and unless he had some 26 402 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. particular objection — "Oh, none! 'pon honor I poor Snap! devilish good chap, in a small way !" said Titmouse, in a condescending manner, and at once gave his consent — Gammon informing him that Mr. Snap would be obliged to return to town by the next day's coach. The reader will smile when I tell him, and if a lady, will frown when she hears, that Miss Quirk was to be of the party — a point which her anxious father had secured some time before. Mrs. Alias had declared that she saw no objection, as Mr. Quirk would be constantly with his daughter, and Gammon had appeared ready to bring about so desirable a result. He had also striven hard, un- known to his partners, to increase their numbers, by the Tag-rags, who might have gone down, all three of them, if they had chosen, by coach, and so have returned. Gammon conceived that this step might not have been unattended with advantage in several ways ; and would, moreover, have secured him a considerable source of amusement. Titmouse, how- ever, would not listen to the thing for a moment, and Gammon was forced to give up his little scheme. Two dashing young fellows, fashionable friends of Titmouse — who had picked them up, Heaven only knows where, but they never deserted him, infinitely to Gammon's annoyance — were also to be of the party. He had seen them but once, when he had accompanied Titmouse to the play, where they soon joined him. One was a disgusting- looking fellow — a Mr. Pimp Yahoo — a man about thirty-five years old, tall, with a profusion of black hair parted down the middle of his head, and fall- ing, in revolting fashion, in long clustering curls, from each temple upon his coat collar. His whiskers also were ample, and covered two-thirds of his face, and spread in disgusting amplitude round his throat. He had also a jet-black tuft, an imperial depending from his under-lip. He had an execrable eye — full of insolence and sensuality ; in short, his whole countenance bespoke the thorough debauchee and ruffian. He had been, he said, in the army ; and was nearly connected, according to his own account — as fellows of this description generally represent to be the case — with " some of the first families in the north." He was now a man of pleasure about town — which contained not a better billiard-player, as the admiring Titmouse had had several painful opportunities of judging. He was a great patron of the ring — knowing all their secrets — all their haunts. He always had plenty of the money of other people, and drove about in an elegant cab, in which Titmouse had often had a seat ; and as soon as Mr. Yahoo had extracted from his communicative little companion all about himself, that astute gentleman made it his business to conciliate Tit- mouse's good graces by all the arts of which he was master — and he suc- ceeded. The other chosen companion of our friend was Mr. Algeenon Fitz-Snooks — a complete fool. He was the sole child of a rich trades- man, who had christened him by the sounding name given above; and afterwards added the patrician prefix to the surname,* which also you see * I wish here to correct a small popular error — that it is necessary to have recourse to the royal sigD-manual to change a surname. "A man may, if he please, and it be not for any fraudulent purpose, take a name, and work his way in the world with this new name as well as he can." This was laid down by the late Chief Justice Tindal, in the celebrated case of Davies v. LmtTides, 1 Bingham's Kew Cases til8 ; adding, " there is no TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 403 iabove, in order to gratify his wife and son. The youth had never " taken to business," but was allowed to saunter about, doing, and knowing, and learning nothing, till about his twenty-second year, when his mother died, as also a year afterwards did his father, discreetly bequeathing to his hopefiil son some fifty thousand pounds^ — absolutely and uncontrolledly. Mr. Algernon Pitz-Snooks judiciously thought that youth was the time to enjoy life; and before he had reached his thirtieth year, had got through all his fortune except about five or six thousand pounds — in return for which he had certainly got something ; viz., an impaired constitution, and a little experience, which might, possibly, at some future time, be useful. He had a pleasing face — ^regular features, and interesting eyes ; his light hair curled " deliciously ;" and he spoke in a sort of lisp, and in a low tone — and, in point of dress, always " turned out" beautifully. Se, also, had a cab, and was a great friend of Mr. Yahoo, who had introduced him into a great deal of high society, principally in St. James's street, where both he and Mr. Yahoo had passed a great deal of their time, especially during the night 1 There was no intentional mischief in poor Fitz-Snooks ; nature had made him only a fool — his prudent parents had done the rest ; and if he fell into vice, it was only because — as people say — " he couldn't help it." Such were the chosen companions of Titmouse : the one a fool, the other a rogue — and "he must," he said, "have them down to the jolli- fying at Yatton." A groom and a valet, both impudent knaves, and newly hired the day before, would complete the party of the morrow. Gammon assured Titmouse that he had taken all the pains in the world to get up a triumphant entry into Yatton ; his agents at Grilston, Messrs. Bloodsuck & Son, the Eadical electioneering attorneys of the county, who were well versed in the matter of processions, bands, flags, &c., &c., &c., had by that time arranged everything, and they were to be met, when within a mile of Yatton, by a grand procession. The people at the Hall, also, were under orders from Mr. Gammon, through Messrs. Bloodsuck & Son, to have all in readiness — and a banquet prepared for nearly a hundred persons — in fact, all comers were to be welcome. To all this Titmouse listened with eyes glistening, and ears tingling with rapture ; but can any tongue describe his emotion on being apprised that the sum of £2500, in the banker's hands, was now at his disposal — that it would be doubled in a few weeks — and that a check for JS500, drawn by Mr. Titmouse on the London agents of the Grilston bankers, had been honored on the preceding after- noon ? Titmouse's heart beat fast, and he felt as if he could have fallen down at Gammon's knees and worshipped him, As for the matter of carriages, Mr. Gammon said that probably Mr. Titmouse would call that morning on Mr. Axle, in Long Acre, and select one to his mind— it must of course be one with two seats— and Mr. Gammon had pointed out several which were, he thought, eligible, and would be shown to Mr. Titmouse. That would be the carriage in which he presumed Mr. Titmouse himself would travel ; the second, Mr. Gammon had taken the liberty of abeady ntcesMy for any application for a royal sign-manual to change the name. It is a mode to which persona often have recourse, because it gives a greater sanction to it, and makes it more notorious, '^ 404 TEN THOUSAND A TEAS. ^electing. With this Mr. Gammon, just as the new valet brought in no fewer than a dozen boxes of cigars ordered over-night by Titmouse, shook his hand and departed, saying that he should make his appearance at the Cabbage-stalk the next morning, precisely at eleven o'clock — about which time it was arranged they were aU to start. Titmouse hardly knew how to pontain himself, on being left alone. About an hour afterwards, he made his appearance at Mr. Axle's ; who, worthy and indefatigable man, carried on two businesses, one public, i, e. that of a coach-builder — one private^ i. e. that of a money-lender. He was a rich man — a very obliging and " accom- modating" person, by means of which latter quality he had amassed a for- tune of, it was believed, a hundred thousand pounds. He never made a fuss about selling on credit — or lending, taking back, or exchanging car- riages of all descriptions ; nor in discounting the bills of his customers to any amount. He proved generally right, in each case, in the long run. He would supply his fashionable victim with as splendid a chariot, and funds to keep it some time going, as he or she could desire ; well knowing that in due time, after they should have taken a few turns in it ahout the parks, and a few streets and squares in the neighborhood, it would quietly drive up to one or two huge dingy fabrics in a different part of the town, where it would deposit its burden, and then return, little the worse for wear, to its maker, who took it back at about a twentieth part of its cost, and soon again disposed of it in a way equally advantageous to himself. Mr. Axle showed Mr. Titmouse obsequiously over his premises, pointing out, as soon as he knew who his visitor was, the carriages which Mr. Gammon had the day before desired should be shown to him, and which Mr. Titmouse, with his glass stuck in his eye, where it was kept by the pure force of muscular contraction, examined with something like the air of a connoisseur ; occa- sionally rapping with hLs agate-headed cane — now against his teeth, then against his legs. He did not seem perfectly satisfied with any of them ; they looked, he said, " devilish plain and duU." " Hollo — Mr. Axletree, or whatever your name is — ^what have we here! 'Pon — my^soul, the very thing !" — he exclaimed, as his eye caught a splendid object — the state-carriage of the ex-sheriff, with its gorgeously de- corated panels, which, having been vamped up for some six or seven suc- cessive shrievalties— (being on each occasion heralded to the public by lau- datory paragraphs in the newspapers, as entirely new and signal instances of the taste and magnificence of the sheriff eleot) — seemed now really per- fvmctws officio. Mr. Axle was staggered for a moment, and scarce supposed Mr, Titmouse to be in earnest — Gammon having given him no inkling of the real character of Titmouse; but observing the earnest steadfast gaze with which he regarded the glittering object, having succeeded in choking down a sudden, fit of laughter, smooth Mr. Axle commenced a seductive eulogium upon the splendid structure — remarking how singular it was that the carriage should happen just at that exact moment to be placed at his disposal by its former owner — a gentleman — Mr. Axle made no allusion to his ofiicial character — of great distinction, who had no longer any occa- sion for it. Mr. Axle declared that he had had numerous applications for it already, on hearing which Titmouse got excited. The door was opened TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 405 — he got in; sat on each seat — "Don't it hang beautifully?" inquired the confident proprietor, testing, by pressure, the elasticity of the springs as he spoke. " Let me see, who was it that was after it yesterday ? Oh — I think it was Sir Fitzbiscuit Gander ; but I've not dosed with him yet !" " What's your price, Mr. Axletree ?" inquired Titmouse, rather heatedly^ as he got out of the carriage. After some higgle-haggling, he bought it I — for there was nothing like closing at once, where there was keen competition 1 Mr. Gammon, thought Titmouse, could not have seen this beautiful vehicle when making his choice on the preceding morning ! For he rest of the day he felt infinitely elated at his fortunate purchase, and excited his imagination by pictures of the astonishment and admiration which his equipage must call forth on the morrow. Punctual to his appointment, Mr. Gammon, a few moments before the clock had struck eleven on the ensuing morning, drew up to the Cab- bage-stalk, as near at least as he could get to it, in a hackney-coach, with his portmanteau and carpet-bag. I say as near as he could ; for round about the door stood a considerable crowd, gazing with a sort of awe on a magnificent vehicle standing there, with four horses harnessed to it. Gam- mon looked at his watch as he entered the hotel, and asked why the sherifi''s carriage was standing at the door ? The waiter to whom he spoke seemed nearly bursting with suppressed laughter, which almost disabled him from answering, that the carriage in question was that of Mr. Tit- mouse, ready for setting off for Yorkshire. Mr. Gammon started back- turned pale, and almost dropped an umbrella which was in his hand. " Mr. Titmouse's !" he echoed, incredulously. " Yes, sir — been there for this hour, at least, packing. Such a crowd all the while; 'everybody thinks it's the sheriff, sir," replied the waiter, scarce able to keep his countenance. Mr. Gammon rushed up stairs with greater impetuosity than he had perhaps ever been known to exhibit before, and burst into Mr. Titmouse's room. There was that gentleman, with his hat on, his hands stuck into his coat pockets, a cigar in his mouth, and a tum- bler of brandy-and-water before him. Mr. Yahoo, Mr. Fitz-Snooks, and Mr. Snap were similarly occupied ; and Mr. Quirk was sitting down with his hands in his pockets, and a glass of negus before him, with anything but a joyful expression of countenance. " Is it possible, Mr. Titmouse ?" — commenced Gammon, almost breath- lessly. "Ah, how d'ye do, Gammon ?— punctual !" interrupted Titmouse, ex- tending his hand. " Forgive me — but can it be that the monstrous thing now before the door, with a crowd grinning around it, is yowr carriage f" inquired Gammon, with dismay in his face. "I— rather— think— it is," replied Titmouse, slightly disconcerted, but striving to look self-possessed. " My dear sir," replied Gammon, in a kind of agony, " it is impossible 1 It never can be I Do you mean to say that you bought it at Mr. Axle's ?" "I should rather think bo," replied Titmouse, with a piqued air. 406 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. " He's been grossly imposing on you, sir 1 Permit me to go at once and get you a proper vehide." '"Pon my life, Mr. Gammon, /think that it's a monstrous nice thing— a great bargain — and I've bought it and paid for it, that's more." " Gentlemen, I appeal to you, confidentially," said Gammon, turning in desperation to Mr. Yahoo and Mr. Fitz-Snooks. " As for me, sir," replied the former, coolly, at the same time knocking off the ashes from his cigar, " since you ask my opinion, I confess I rather like the idea— ha, ha ! 'Twill produce a sensation ; that's something in this dullUfe! Eh, Snooks?" "Ay— a— I confess I was a little shocked at first, but I think I'm getting over it now," lisped Mr. Fitz-Snooks, adjusting his shirt-collar, and then sipping a little of his brandy-and-jvater. " I look upon it, now, as an ex- cellent joke; egad, it beats Chitterfield hoUow, though he, too, has done a trick or two lately." "Did you purchase it by way of a joke, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired Gam- mon, with forced calmness, nearly choked with suppressed fiiry. " Why^-a — 'pon my life" — said Titmouse, with a strong effort to appear at his ease — "if you ask me — wonder you don't see it! Of course I did I Those that don't like it may ride in the other — can't they? Eh?" " We shall be hooted at, laughed at, wherever we go," said Mr. Gam- mon, vehemently. " Exactly ; that's the novdty I like," said Mr. Yahoo, looking at Mr. Gammon with a smile of ineffable insolence. Mr. Gammon made him no reply, but fixed an eye upon him, under which he became plainly rather uneasy. He felt outdone. Talk of scorn ! The eye of Gammon, settled at that instant upon Mr. Yahoo, was its com- plete and perfect representative, and from that moment the wretch Yahoo felt something like fear of the eye of man, or of submission to it. When, moreover, he beheld the manner in which Titmouse obeyed Gammon'fl somewhat peremptory request to accompany him out of the room for a moment, he resolved, if possible, to make a friend of Gammon. That gen- tleman failed, on being alone with Titmouse, in shaking his resolution to travel in the splendid vehicle standing at the door. Titmouse said that he had bought and paid for the carriage ; it suited his taste, and where was the harm of gratifying it ? Besides, it was already packed— all was prepared for starting. Gammon thereupon gave it up, and, swallowing down his rage as well and as quickly as he could, endeavored to reconcile himself to this galling and unexpected predicament. It seemed that Miss Quirk, to do her only justice, however really anx- ious to go down to Yatton, to do anything, in short, calcidated to commit Mr. Titmouse to her, was quite staggered on discovering, and shocked at seeing, the kind of persons who were to be their travelling companions. As for Mr. Yahoo, she recoiled from him with horror at the first glance. What decent female, indeed, would not have done so ? She had retired to a bedchamber soon after entering the Cabbage-stalk, and seeing her two unexpected fellow-travellers, presently sent a chambermaid to request her papa to come to her. TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 407 He found her considerably agitated. She wished earnestly to return to Alibi House, and consented to proceed on her journey only on the express promise of Mr. Titmouse and her papa that no one should be in the car- riage in which she went except her papa and Mr. Gammon — unless, in- deed, Mr. Titmouse should think proper to make himself the fourth. Mr. Quirk, on this, sent for Mr. Gammon, who', with a somewhat bad grace ("Confound it!" thought he, "everything seems going wrong"), undertook to secure Mr. Titmouse's consent to that arrangement. While Messrs. Quirk and Gammon were closeted together, one of the waiters entered tlie room occupied by Mr. Titmouse and his friends, and informed him that a lad had brought a parcel for him, which he, the afore- said lad, had received special orders to deliver into the hands of Mr. Tit- mouse. Accordingly, there was presently shown into the room a little knock-kneed lad, in tarnished livery, in whom Titmouse recollected the boy belonging to Mr. Tag-rag's one-horse chaise, and who gave a small parcel into Titmouse's hands, " with Mrs. and Miss Tag-rag's respectful respects." As soon as he had quitted the room, " By Jove ! what have we here ?" exclaimed Titmouse, a little flustered as he cut the string of the parcel. Inside was a packet wrapped up in white paper, and tied in a pretty bow, with narrow white satin ribbons. This, again, and another stUl, within it, having been opened, behold, there stood exposed to view three fine cambric pocket-handkerchiefs, each of which, on being examined, proved to be marked with the initials " T. T." in hair ; and Mr. Yahoo happening to imfold one of them — in doing so, dropping upon it some of the ashes of his cigaiv-lo ! in the centre was — also wrought in hair — the figure of a heart transfixed with an arrow ! Mr. Yahoo roared, and Mr. Fitz-Snooks lisped, " Is she pretty. Tit ? Where's her nest ? Any old birds — eh ?" Titmouse colored a little, then grinned, and put his finger to the side of his nose, and winked his eye, as if favoring the bright idea of Mr. Fitz- Snooks. On half a sheet of gilt-edged paper, and sealed with a seal bear- ing the tender words, " Forget me not !" was written the following : — "Sie: — Trusting you will excuse the liberty, I send you three best cambric pocket-handkerchiefs, which my daughter have marked with her own hair, and beg your acceptance o^ hoping you may be resigned to all the good fortune which may befall you, which is the prayer of, dear sir, " Yours respectfully, Martha Tao-Rag. "P.S. — My daughter sends what you may please, to wish and accept, and hope we shall have the great happiness to see you here again, when you return to town from your noble mansion in the country. "SiTm Lodge, May 18, 18—." "Oh, the naughty old woman 1 Fie I Fie !" exclaimed Mr. Yahoo, with his intolerable smile. " 'Pon my soul, there's nothing in it," said Titmouse, reddening. "Where's Satin Lodge?" lisped Mr. Fitz-Snooks. "It is a large country-house on the— the Bichmond road," said Tit- mouse, with a little hesitation ; and just then the return of Gammon, who 408 TEN THOUSAND A YEAS. had resumed his usual cabnness of manner, relieved him from his embar- rassment. Mr. Gammon had succeeded in effecting the arrangement suggested by Mr. Quirk and his daughter, and within about a quarter of an hour afterwards, behold the ex-sheriff's resplendent but cast-ofi" car- riage filled by Miss Quirk, Titmouse, Mr. Quirk and Gammon — ^the groom and valet sitting on the coach-box; while in the other, a plain yellow carriage, covered with luggage, sat Mr. Yahoo, Mr. Fitz-Snooks, and Mr. Snap, all of them with lighted dgars — Snap never having been so happy in all his life as at that moment. Mr. Titmouse had laid aside his cigar, in compliment to Miss Quirk, who wore a long black veil, and an elegant light shawl, and looked un- commonly like a young bride setting off— oh, heavens ! thought she, that it had been so ! — on her wedding excursion. Mr. Gammon slouched his hat over his eyes, and inclined his head downwards, almost collapsed with vexation and disgust, as he observed the grins and tittering of the group of spectators gathered round the carriage and doorway ; but Titmouse, who was splendidly dressed, took off his hat on sitting down, and bowed several times to — as he supposed — the admiring crowd. "Get on, boys/' growled Mr. Gammon; and away they rattled, exciting equal surprise and applause wherever they went. Whoever had met them, must have taken Titmouse and Miss Quirk for a newly-married couple — ■probably the son and daughter of one of the sheriffs, who had lent the state carriage to add Sclat to the interesting occasion. With the exception of the sensation produced at every place where they changed horses, the only incident during their journey worth noticing occurred at the third stage from London. As they came dashing up to the door of the inn, their advent setting all the bells of the establishment ringing, and waiters and hostlers scampering up to the dazzling equipage like mad, they beheld a plain and laden dusty travelling-carriage, waiting for horses, and Gammon quickly perceived it to be the carriage of the ruined Aubreys, who had alighted for a moment. The graceful figure of Miss Aubrey, her face pale, and wearing an expression of manifest anxiety and fatigue, was standing near the door, talking kindly to a beggar woman, with a cluster of half-naked children around her, while little Aubrey was romping about with Miss Aubrey's beautiful little spaniel Cato, Agnes looking on and laughing merrily, and trying to escape from the hand of her attendant. Mr. and Mrs. Aubrey were conversing earnestly close beside the carriage-door. Gammon observed all this, and particularly that Mr. Aubrey was scrutinizing their appearance, with a sort of half smile on his countenance, melancholy as it was. " Horses on I" said Gammon, leaning back in the carriage. " That's a monstrous fine woman standing at the inn door, Titmouse — eh 7" exclaimed Mr. Yahoo, who had alighted for a moment, and stood beside the door of Titmouse's carriage, his execrable eye settled upon Miss Aubrey. "I wonder who and what she is? By Jove, 'tis the face — the figure of an angel ! egad, they're somebody : I'll look at their panels !" " I know who it is," said Titmouse, rather faintly ; " I'll tell you by- and-by." TEN TBOVSAND A YEAR. 409 " Now, now, my dear boy ! Our divinity is vanishing," whispered Mr. Yahoo eagerly, as Miss Aubrey, having slipped something into the beggar's hand, stepped into the carriage. As soon as her brother had entered, the door was closed, and they drove off. " Who's that, Mr. Titmouse ?" inquired Miss Quirk, with a little eager- ness, observing — women are quick in detecting such matters — that both Gammon and Titmouse looked rather embarrassed. " It's the — the Aubreys," replied Titmouse. " Eh ! By Jove — is it ?" quickly inquired old Quirk, putting his head out of the windows ; " how odd, to meet the old birds ! Egad 1 their nest must be yet warm — ^ha ! ha 1" " What 1 dear papa, are those the people you've turned out ? Gracious I I thought I heard some one say that Miss Aubrey was pretty ! La ! I'm sure I thought — now, what do you think, Mr. Titmouse ?" she added, turn- ing abruptly and looking keenly at him. " Oh 1 'pon my life, I — I — see nothing at all in her — devilish plain, I should say — infernally pale, and all that !" They were soon on their way again. Titmouse quickly recovered his equanimity, but Gammon continued silent and thoughtful for many, many miles ; and the reader would not be surprised at it if he knew as well as I do the thoughts which the unexpected sight of that travelling carriage of Mr. Aubrey had suggested to Mr. Gammon. As they approached the scene of triumph and rejoicing, and ascertained that they were within about a mile of the peaceful little village of Yatton, the travellers began to look out for indications of the kind which Mr. Gammon had mentioned to Titmouse, viz., a band and procession, and an attendant crowd. But however carefiil and extensive might have been the arrangements of those to whom that matter had been entrusted, they were likely to be sadly interfered with by a circumstance which, happening just then, might, to a weaker and more superstitious mind than that of Mr. Titmouse, have looked a. little ominous, namely, the occurrence of a tre- mendous thunderstorm. It was then about five o'clock in the afternoon. The whole day had been overcast, and the sky threatening ; and just as the two carriages came to that turning in the road which gave them the first glimpse of the Hall — only, however, the tops of the great antique brick chimneys, which were visible above the surrounding trees — a fearful, long-continued flash of lightning burst from the angry heavens, followed, after an interval of but a second or two, by a peal of thunder which sounded as if a park of artillery was being repeatedly discharged immediately over- head. "Mind your horses' heads, boys," called out Mr. Gammon; "keep a tight rein." Miss Quirk was dreadfully alarmed, and clung to her father. Titmouse also seemed disconcerted, and looked to Gammon, who was perfectly calm, though his face was not free from anxiety. The ghastly glare of the light- ning was again around them — all involuntarily hid their faces in their hands — and again rattled the thunder in a peal lasting more than half a minute, and seemed to be in frightful contiguity, as it were only a few 410 TEN THOaSAND A YEAR. yards above tlieir heads. Down, then, cajne the Ibng-snspended rsdn, pouring like a deluge ; and so it continued, with frequent returns of the thunder and lightning, for nearly a quarter of an hour. The last turning brought them within sight of the village, and also of some fifty or sixty persons crowding under the hedges on each side — ^these were the triuiiiph- ant procession ; musicians, flagmen, footmen, horsemen, all dripping with wet, and constituting surely a spectacle piteous to behold. Out, however, they all turned, true to their orders, as soon as they saw the carriages, which immediately slackened their speed — ^the rain also somewhat abating. The flagman tried desperately to unroll a wet banner, of considerable size, with the words — "Welcome to YattonI" in gilded letters ; while the band, consisting of a man with a big drum, anotlier with a serpent, a third with a trumpet, a fourth with a. bassoon, two with clarionets, and a boy with a fife, struck up — " See the conquering hero comes 1" They pufled and blew lustily — bang ! bang ! bang ! went the damp drum ; but the rain, the thunder, and the lightning woefully inter- fered with their harmony. 'Twould have made your heart ache to see the wet flag clinging obstinately to the pole, in spite of all the efforts of its burly bearer I But now for the procession. First, on horseback, was Bar- nabas Bloodsuck, senior, Esq. ; beside him rode his son, Barnabas Blood- suck, junior, Esq. ; then came the Reverend Gideon Fleshpot, a solemn simpleton, the vicar df Grilston, the only Badical clergyman in that part of the country ; beside him, the Reverend Smirk Mudflint, a flippant, bitter, little Unitarian parson, a great crony of Mr. Fleshpot, and his sur- name, singularly enough, exactly designating the qualities of his brain and heart. Next to these, alone in his one-horse chaise, looking like a pill-box drawn by a leech, came the little fat Whig apothecary. Gargle Glister, Esq. Following him came, also in a gig, Going Gone, Esq., the auc- tioneer — the main prop of the Liberal side, being a most eloquent speaker — and Mr. Hie Hsec Hoc, a learned schoolmaster, who undertook to teach the rudiments of Latin, viz., the Latin grammar, as far as to the irr^ular verbs. Then there were Mr. Centipede, the editor, and Mr. Woodlouse, the publisher and proprietor of the "Yokkshike Stingo," for which, also, Mr. Mudflint wrote a great deal. These, and about a dozen others, the flower of the "party" tliereabouts, disdainful of the inclement weather, bent on displaying their attachment to the new owner of Yatton, and solacing each his patient inner man with anticipation of the jolly cheer awaiting him at the Hall, formed the principal part of the procession ; the rest, consisting of rather a miscellaneous assortment of scot-and-lot and pot-walloper-looking people, all wet and hungry, and frequently casting looks of devout expectation towards the Hall. Scarcely a villager of Yatton was to be seen stirring ; nor did any of the tenants of the estate join in the procession ; even had they not felt far otherwise disposed, they had luckily a complete excuse for their non-appearance in the deplorable state of the weather. Sometimes the band played ; then a peal of thunder came ; then a cry of " hurra ! Titmouse forever ! hurra !" then the band, and then the thunder, and rain ! rain ! rain ! Thus they got to die paf k gates, TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 411 wliere they paused, the half-drowned men and boys shouting, "Titmouse forever! hurra-a-a!" Mr. Titmouse bobbing about, now at one window, then at the other, with his hat off, in the most gracious manner. Eeally it seemed almost as if the elements were indicating the displeasure of Heaven at Mr. Titmouse's assumption of Yatton ; for just as he was passing under the old gateway, out flashed the lightning more vividly than it had yet appeared, and the thunder bellowed and reverberated among the woods as though it would never have ceased. The music and shouting now ended suddenly ; carriages, horsemen, pedestrians, quickened their pace in silence, as if anxious to get out of the storm ; the horses now and then plunging and rearing violently. Titmouse was terribly frightened, in spite of his desperate efforts to appear unconcerned. He was pale as death, and looked anxiously at Gammon, as if hoping to derive courage from the sight of his rigid countenance. Miss Quirk trembled violently, and several times uttered a faint scream ; but her father, old Mr. Quirk, did not seem to care a pinch of snuff about the whole matter ; he rubbed his hands together cheerily, chucked his daughter under the chin, rallied Titmouse, and now and then nudged and jeered Gammon, who seemed disposed to be serious and silent. The carriage having drawn up opposite the HaU door, it was opened by Mr. Griffiths, with a, saddened, but still respectful look and manner ; and in the same way might be characterized some six or seven servants standing behind him, in readiness to receive the new-comers. The reeking musicians tried to strike up " Eule Britannia," as the hero of the day, Mr. Titmouse, descended irom his carriage, Mr. Griffiths holding, an umbrella for him, and bounded out of the rain with a hop, step, and jump into the Hall, where the first words he was heard to utter, were — "What a devilish rum old place!" " God bless you I God bless you ! God bless you, Titmouse !" exclaimed old Mr. Quirk, grasping him by the hand as soon as he had entered. Tit- mouse shook hands with Miss Quirk, who immediately followed a female servant to an apartment, being exceedingly nervous and agitated. Gam- mon seemed a little out of spirits ; and said simply, " You know, Mr. Tit- mouse, how fervently I congratulate you." " Oh ! my dear boy. Tit, do, for heaven's sake, if you want the thunder and lightning to cease, order those wretched devils off— send them any- where, but do stop their cursed noise, my dear boy !" exclaimed Mr. Yahoo, as soon as he had entered, putting his fingers to his ears. " Mr. what's-your-name," said Titmouse, addressing Mr. Griffiths, " I'll trouble you to order off those fellows and their infernal noise. Demme ! there's a precious row making up above, and surely one at a time will do — demme !" "Ah, ha, capital joke, by Jove! capital!" said Fitz-Snooks, arranging his shirt-collar. " A— Titmouse— by Jupiter !" said Mr. Yahoo, as, twirling his fingers about in his long black hair, of which he seemed very proud, he glanced about the Hall, "this a'n't so much amiss ! Do you know, my dear boy, I rather like it ; it's substantial, antique, and so forth !" " Who are those dem ugly old fellows up there ?" presently exclaimed 412 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. Titmouse, as, ■with his glass stuck into his right eye, and his hands into his coat pockets, he stood staring at the old-fashioned pictures. " Some of them, sir," replied Mr. Griffiths, with an irrepressihle sigh, "are ancestors of the Dreddlingtons — others of the Aubrey families. They are very old, sir," continued Mr. Griffiths, "and are much ad- mired, and Mr. Aubrey desired me to say, that if you should be disposed to part " " Oh, confound him, he may ha,ve 'em all, if he'll pay for 'em, if that's what he wants : I shall soon send them packing off I" Mr. Griffiths bowed, and nearly shed a tear. By this time the Hall was crowded with the gen- tlemen who had formed part of the procession, and who came bowing and scraping to the new lord of Yatton, congratulating him, and wishing him health and happiness. As soon as he could disengage himself from their flattering but somewhat troublesome civilities, Tweedle, his valet, came and whispered, " Will you dress, sir ? All is ready ;" and Titmouse followed him to the dressing-room which had formerly been young Mrs. Aubrey's. 'Twas the first time that Titmouse had ever experienced the attentions of a valet, and he was quite nonplussed at the multitudinousness and elegance of the arrangements around him. Such quantities of clothes of all sorts — dressing-implements, curling-irons, combs, brushes, razors, a splendid dressing-case, scents in profusion, oils, bear's-grease, several sorts of soaps, &c., &c. ; all this gave Titmouse a livelier idea of his altered circum- stances, of his having really hecome a g^ntiemAit, than anything which he had up to that moment experienced. He thought his valet one of the cleverest and most obliging men in the world, only spmewhat oppressive with his attentions ; and at length Mr. Titmouse said, he preferred, this time, dressing alone, and so dismissed his obsequious attendant, whom, however, he was soon obliged to summon to his assistance, after all, not knowing the proper uses of several implements about him. Having com- pleted his toilet, he descended into the drawing-room, which, as well as the dining-room, was ready prepared for the banquet, covers being laid for forty or fifty, and good substantial fare provided for at least as many more, in the servants' hall, where operations had already commenced. On enter- ing the drawing-room, his appearance seemed to produce a great sensa- tion ; and after a momentary and embarrassing pause, the only county gentleman who was present advanced and introduced himself, his wife, and daughter. This was Sir Harkaway Eotgut Wildfire, Baronet, a, tall and somewhat corpulent man of about fifty, choleric and overbearing ; his countenance showing the hard life he had led, his nose being red, and his forehead and mouth beset with pimples. He had been a bitter political opponent of Mr. Aubrey, and once a member for the county ; but had so crippled his resources by hunting and horse-racing, as to compel the sac- rifice of their town amusements, viz., his seat in the House of Commons, and Lady Wildfire's box at the opera. This had soured both of them not a little, and they had completely sunk out of the county circle, in wliich they had once been sufficiently conspicuous. Sir Harkaway had an eye to the borough of Yatton on the happening of the next election, as soon as he had obtained an inkling that the new proprietor of Yatton was a weak TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 413 young man ; and hence his patronizing presence at Yatton, in consequence of the invitation respectfully conveyed to him in Mr. Titmouse's name, through Messrs. Bloodsuck & Son. Besides Lady Wildfire and her daughter, both of whom had inquired with a sort of haughty curiosity about the lady who had accompanied Mr. Titmouse from town — a point at length cleared up to their satisfaction — there were about a dozen ladies, the wives of the gentlemen who had borne so distinguished a part in the triumphal, procession. They certainly looked rather a queer set ; and none of them dared to speak to either Lady Wildfire or her daughter, till spoken to by them. Never had old Yatton beheld within its walls so motley a group ; and had the Aubreys continued there, hospitable as they were, accessible and charitable as they were, I leave the reader to guess whether such creatures ever would have found their way thither. By such guests, however, were the two principal tables crowded on this joyous occasion ; and about half-past six o'clock the feast commenced, and a feast it certainly was, both elegant and substantial, nothing having been spared that money could procure. Mr. Aubrey had a fine cellar of wines at Yatton, which, owing to some strange misunderstanding, had been sold by private con- tract, not amongst his own Mends in the neighborhood, as Mr. Aubrey had intended, and imagined that he had directed, but to Mr. Titmouse. Choice, indeed, were these wines, and supplied on the present occasion in wanton profusion. Champagne, burgundy, and claret, flowed like water, and the rich old port, the pure and delicate sherry, and madeira in like manner ; these last, however, not being confined to the two principal rooms, but finding their way into the servants' hall, where they were drunk without stint. Merriment echoed uproariously from all parts of the old Hall, and Mr. Titmouse was universally declared to be a fine fellow, and likely to be- come ^e most popular man in the county. The Reverend Mr. Fleshpot said grace, and the Eeverend Mr. Mudflint returned thanks — but such thanks I and shortly afterwards Sir Harkaway arose, and, his eye fixed firmly on the adjoining borough, and also on the jolly table which promised to be ever open to him at Yatton, proposed the health of the distinguished proprietor of Yatton, in a flattering and energetic speech. The toast was received with the utmost enthusiasm ; the gentlemen shouted and jingled their glasses on the table, while the ladies waved their handkerchiefs ; indeed the scene was one of such overpowering excitement, that Miss Quirk burst into teare, overcome by her emotions ; her papa winking significantly to those about him, and using every exertion in his power to point the attention of those present to the probability that an intimate and tender connection was about to exist between that young lady and Mr. Titmouse^ Mr. Gammon, who sat next to Titmouse, assured him that it was absolutely necessary for him to make a speech to the company, in acknowledgment of the compliment which had just been paid him. " I shall put my foot into it — by jingo I shall I You must help me !" he whispered to Mr. Gammon, in an agony of trepidation and a mist of confu- sion, as he rose from his chair, being welcomed in the most enthusiastic manner, by applause of every kind, lasting for several minutes. At length, when the noise had subsided into a fearful silence, he stammered out. 414 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. prompted incessantly by Mr. Gammon, something exceedingly like the fol- lowing, if, indeed, he did not use these very words :— " Mr. — I beg pardon — Sir Hark-away, and gentlemen — gentlemen and ladies, am most uncommon, monstrous — particular happy to — to — (eh ? vihai d'ye say, Mr. Gammon ?) see you all here — at this place — here at Yatton." — (Applause.) "Ladies and gentlemen — I say — hem! — ^unaccus- tomed as" — (much applause, during which Titmouse stooped and whis- pered to Gammon — " Curse me if I can catch a word you say !") " Happy and proud to see yon all here — at Yatton — ^homes of my ancestry- — known to you all — centuries. Enjoyed yourselves, I hope — (great applause) — and hope you'll often come and do the same — (still greater applause). Partic- tilar glad to see the ladies — (applause) — often heard of the beauties of Yatton — never believed it — no — ^beg pardon, mean I now see them — (ap- plause). Am fond of horses — (applause) — racing, hunting, and all that." (Here Sir Harkaway, extending his hand, pubHcly shook that of the elo- quent speaker.) " Sorry to turn out the — the — old bird — but — ^nest not his — mine all the while — (sensation) — ^bear him no ill-wiU — (applause). Political principles — (profound silence) — Liberal principles — (loud ap- plause) — rights of the people — religious liberty, and all that — (vociferous applause) — found at my post in the hour of danger — enemy stole a march on me — (great laughter and applause). Won't detain you — ^ladies and gentle- men — drink your good healths, and many happy returns of the day." Down sat Mr. Titmouse, exhausted by his maiden speech, and quite over- powered, moreover, by the extraordinary applause with which he was greeted at its conclusion. In due course many other toasts were drunk ; among them were— "Lady Wildfire and the married ladies." "Miss Wildfire and the single ladies." " Sir Harkaway Eotgut Wildfire." "Ee- ligious Liberty" (to which Mr. Mudflint responded in a very eloquent speech). " The Liberty of the Press." " Messrs. Quirk, Gammon & Snap, the enterprising, skillful, and learned professional advisers of Mr. Tit- mouse." Dancing was now loudly called for, and the haU was speedily prepared for it. By this time, however, it was past eleven o'clock ; the free potations of all the gentlemen, and indeed (to be candid) of more than one of the ladies, were beginning to tell, and the noise and confusion were great. Fierce confused sounds issued from the servants' hall, where it proved that a great fight was going on between Pumpkin, the gardener, and a man who insisted on shouting, " Titmouse forever — down with Aubrey !" Pumpkin, I am not sorry to say, had much the best of it, and beat his op- ponent, after a severe encounter, into silence and submission. Then there were songs sung in all the rooms at once — speeches made, half-a-dozen at the same time ; in short, never before had such doings been witnessed, or such uproar heard, within the decorous, dignified, and venerable precincts of Yatton. Scenes ensued which baffle description. Mr. Titmouse, of course, drank prodigiously, although Mr. Gammon never left his side, and checked him twenty times when he was about to fill his glass. The ex- citement thus produced by wine will, I trust, in some measure, mitigate the reader's indignation at hearing of a little incident which occurred, in which Titmouse was concerned, and which, about half-past three in the morning, TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 415 served to bring that brilliant entertainment to a somewhat abrupt and rather unpleasant termination. Scarcely knowing where he was, or what he was about, I am sorry to say, that while standing, as well as he could, beside Miss Wildfire, to dance for the fifth time with her — a plump, fair- faced, good-natured girl of about nineteen or twenty — he suddenly threw his arms round her, and imprinted half-a-dozen kisses on her forehead, lipg, cheek and neck, before she could recover from the confusion into which this monstrous outrage had thrown her. Her faint shriek reached her father's ears, while he was, in a distant part of the room, persecuting poor Miss Quirk with drunken and profligate impertinence. Hastily approach- ing the quarter whence his daughter's voice had issued, he beheld her just extricated from the insolent embrace of the half-unconscious Titmouse, and greatly agitated. With flaming eye and outstretched arm, he approached his unfortunate little host, and seizing hold of his right ear, almost wrung it out of his head, Titmouse actually yelling with the pain which he expe- rienced. Still retaining his hold, uttering the while fearful imprecations, Sir Harkaway gave him three violent kicks upon the seat of honor, the last of them sending him spinning into the arms of old Mr. Quirk, who was hurrying up to his relief, and who fell flat on the floor with the violent concussion. Then Miss Quirk rushed forward and screamed ; a scene of dreadful confusion ensued ; and at length the Infuriated and half-drunken baronet, forced away by his wife and daughter, aided by several of the company, quitted the hall, and staggered into his carriage, uttering fearful threats and curses all the way home, without once adverting to the cir- cumstance, of which also Lady Wildfire and her daughter were not aware, that he had been himself engaged in perpetrating nearly the same sort of misconduct which he had so severely and justly punished in poor Titmouse. As for Mr. Yahoo and Mr. Fitz-Snooks, they had been in quest of similar sport the whole night, and had, in pursuing their adventures in the ser- vants' hall, narrowly escaped much more serious indignities and injuries than had fallen to the lot of the hospitable owner of the mansion. About half-past four o'clock, the sun was shining in cloudless splendor, the air cleared, and ringing with the music of the lark, and all nature seeming freshened after the storm of the preceding day ; but what a scene was presented at Yatton ! Two or three persons, one with his hat off, asleep ; another grasping a half-empty bottle ; and a third in a state of desperate in- disposition, were to be seen, at considerable distances from each other, by the side of the carriage-road leading down to the park-gates. Four or five horses, ready saddled and bridled, but neglected, and apparently forgotten by both servants and masters, were wandering about the fine green old court opposite the Hall door, eating the grass, and crushing with their hoofs the beautiful beds of flowers emd shrubs which surrounded it. Mr. Glister's gig had got its wheels entangled with the old sun-dial — having been drawn thither by the horse, which had been put into it at least two hours before ; opposite the Hall door stood the post-chaise which had brought Mr. and Mrs. Mudflint and their daughter. The latter two were sitting in it, one asleep — the other, Mrs. Mudflint, anxiously on the look-out for her husband, from time to time calling to Mm, but in vain ; for about half an hour before^ 416 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. he had quitted the room where he, Mr. Fleshpot, Mr. Going Gone and Mr. Centipede, had been playing a rubber at wliist, till all of them had nearly fallen asleep with their cards in their hands, and made his way to the stables ; where, not finding his chaise in the yard, or his horses in the stalls, he supposed his wife and daughter had gone home, whither he fol- lowed them by the footpath leading tlirough the fields stretching along the high-road to Grilston, and along which said fields he was at that moment, staggering and hiccuping, not clearly understanding where he was, nor where he had last seen his wife and daughter. Candles and lamps were still burning and glimmering in some of the rooms at Yatton ; and in the servants' hall there were some dozen or so of the lower kind of guests, who, having awoke from a deep sleep, were calling for more ale, or wine, or whatever else they could get. Some of the old family servants had fled hours before from scenes of such unwonted riot, to their bedrooms, and locked and barricaded the doors, but were too much shocked to sleep. Mr. Griffiths sat in an old arm-chair in the library, the picture of misery ; he had been repeatedly abused and insulted during the night, and had gone thither, unable to bear the sight of the disgusting revelry going for- ward. In short, at every point that caught the eye were visible evidences of the villanous debauchery which had prevailed for the last seven hours, and which, under the Titmouse dynasty, was likely to prevail at all times thereafter. As for Mr. Titmouse, half-stunned with the treatment which he had experienced at the hands of Sir Harkaway, he had been carried to bed — where his excessive, miscellaneous, and long-continued potations aggravating the efiect of the serious injuries which he had sustained, he ■ lay sprawling, half undressed, in a truly deplorable condition. Mr. Glister, who had been summoned to his bedside upwards of an hour before, sat now nodding in his chair beside his patient ; and pretty nearly in a state of similar exhaustion were his valet and the housekeeper, who had from time to time wiped her eyes and sobbed aloud when thinking of past times, and the horrid change which had come over old Yatton. Mr. Yahoo, Mr. Fitz-Snooks, Mr. Snap, Mr. Quirk, and Miss Quirk (the last having retired to her bedroom in the utmost terror at the time of Tit- mouse's mischance), were in their respective chambers, all of them pro- bably asleep. Poor Hector, chained to his kennel, having barked himself hoarse for several hours, lay fast asleep, no one having attended to him, or given him anything to eat since Mr. Titmouse's arrival. Gammon had retired from the scene, in disgust and alarm, to his bedroom some three hours before ; but unable to sleep— not, however, with excess of wine, for he had drunk very little — had arisen about four o'clock, and was at that moment wandering slowly, with folded arms and downcast countenance, up and down the fine avenue of elm-trees, where it may be recollected Mr. Aubrey had spent a portion of the last evening of his stay at Yatton. Such is my account of that memorable entertainment — and so fair an account as I know how to give of the matter ; but it is curious to observe how differently the same thing will strike different people. As soon as the grateful Mr. Centipede had recovered from the excitement occasioned by the part which he had borne in the splendid festival, he set to work, with TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 417 the pen of a ready writer, and in tlie next number of the Yorkshire Stingo there appeared the following interesting account of the ■' FESTIVITIES AT YATTOST HALL, ON THE OCCASION OP POSSESSION BEING TAKEN BY TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE, ESQtflRE. "Yesterday this interesting event came off with signal Sclat, notwith- standing the very unfavorable state of the weather. About five o'clock in the evening, an imposing cavalcade, comprising many of the leading gentry and yeomanry of this part of the county, on foot and on horseback, pre- ceded by an admirable band and a large and splendid banner, bearing the inscription — ' Welcome to Yatton,' went out to meet the above distinguished gentleman, whose cortege, in two carriages, made its appearance in the village about half-past five. The band immediately struck up ' See the Conquering Hero comes !' which inspiriting air, however, was nearly drowned in the shout which welcomed the new proprietor of the noble estate of Yatton. His carriage was of the most tasteful, splendid, and unique description, and attracted universal admiration. Mr. Titmouse repeatedly bowed through the carriage windows, in graceful acknowledgment of the cordial welcome and congratulations with which he was received. He was dressed in a light blue surtout, with velvet collar, full black stock, and a rich velvet waistcoat of plaid pattern. His countenance is handsome and expressive, his eye penetrating, and his brow strongly indicative of thought. He appears to be little more than twenty-five years old ; so that he has before him the pros- pect of a long and brilliant career of happiness and public usefulness. Tables were spread in all the chief apartments, groaning beneath the most costly viands. All the luxuries of the season were there ; and the wines (which we believe were those of Mr, Aubrey) were of the first description. Grace was said by the exemplary vicar of Grilston, the Eev. Mi-. Fleshpot ; and the Eev. Mr. Mudflint returned thanks. Sir Harkaway Eotgut Wild- fire (whose amiable lady and accomplished daughter were present) pro- posed the health of Mr. Titmouse in a brief but manly and cordial address ; and the manner in which Mr. Titmouse acknowledged the toast, which was drunk with the greatest possible enthusiasm — the simplicity, point, and fervor which characterized every word he uttered — were such as to excite lively emotion in all who heard it, and warrant the highest expec- tations of his success in Parliament. Nothing could be more touching than his brief allusions to the sufferings and privations which he had undergone — nothing more delicate and forbearing than the feeling which pervaded his momentary allusion to the late occupant of Yatton. When, however, he distinctly avowed his political principles as those of a daunt- less champion of civil and religious liberty among all classes of his Majesty's subjects, the applause was long and enthusiastic. After dinner, the great hall was cleared for dancing, which was opened by Mr. Titmouse and Miss Wildfire ; Lady Wildfire being led out by the Honorable [I] Mr. Yahoo, an intimate friend of Mr. Titmouse. We should not omit to men- tion that Miss Quirk (the only daughter of Caleb Quirk, Esq., the head of the distinguished firm of Quirk, Gammon & Snap, of London, to whose untiring and most able exertions is owing the happy change which has 27 418 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. taken place in the ownership of the Yatton property) accompanied her father, at the earnest request of Mr. Titmouse, who danced several sets with her ; and it is whispered — but we will not anticipate family arrange- ments. Sir [!] Algernon Fitz-Snooks, a distinguished fashionable, also accompanied Mr. Titmouse, and entered with great spirit into all the gayeties of the evening. The ' light fantastic toe' was kept 'tripping' till a late, or rather early hour in the morning — when the old Hall was once more (for a time) surrendered to the repose and solitude from which it has been so suddenly and joyously aroused." [In another part of the paper was contained an insulting paragraph, charging Mr. Aubrey with being a party to the "flagrant and iniquitous job" by which Sir Perdval Pick- ering had been returned for the borough, and intimating pretty distinctly that Mr. Aubrey had not gone without a consideration for his share in the nefarious transaction.] A somewhat diflferent account of the affair appeared in the York True Blue of the same day. " Yatton HAn.-^We have received one or two accounts of the orgies of which this venerable mansion was yesterday the scene, on occasion of Mr. Titmouse taking possession. "We shall not give publicity to the details which have been furnished us, hoping that the youth and inexperience of the new owner of Yatton (all allowance, also, being made for the natural excitement of such an occasion) will be deemed a palliative in some meas- ure of the conduct then exhibited. One fact, however, we may mention, that a serious fracas arose between Mr. Titmouse and a certain well-known sporting baronet, which is expected to give employment to the gentlemen of the long robe at the ensuing assizes. Nor can we resist adverting to a circumstance, which our readers will, we trust, credit, on being assured that we witnessed it with our own eyes — that Mr. Titmouse positively travelled in the cast-off state carriage of the Lord Mayor of London I Nothing, by the way, could be more absurd and contemptible than the attempt at a 'Procession' which was got up — of which our accounts are ludicrous in the extreme. Will our readers believe it, that the chief personages figur- ing on the occasion were the editor and publisher of a certain low Badical print — which will no doubt this day favor its readers with a flaming description of this ' memorable affair.' " Titmouse, assisted by his attentive valet, made a desperate attempt to get up, and present himself the next day at dinner. Aided by a glass of pretty strong brandy-and-water, he at length got through the fatiguing duties of the toilet, and entered the drawing-room, where his travelling companions were awaiting his arrival — dinner being momentarily expected to be aiir nounced. He was deadly pale ; his knees trembled ; his temples throbbed ; his eyes could not bear the light ; and everything seemed in undulating motion around him, as he sank in silent exhaustion on the sofa. After a few minutes' continuance, he was compelled to leave the room, leaning on Gammon's arm, who conducted him to his chamber, and left him in charge of his valet, who got him again into bed, and there TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 419 he lay, enduring much agony, -while his friends were enjoying themselves at dinfaer. Snap had set off the ensvfing day for town, by the first coach, pursuant to the arrangements already spoken of; but I think that old Mr. Quirk would have made up his mind to continue at Yatton until something definite had been done by Titmouse, in two matters which absorbed all the thoughts of the old gentleman — his daughter, and the Ten Thousand Pounds bond. Miss Quirk, however, intense as was her anxiety to become the affianced bride of Titmouse, and as such the mistress of the delightful do- main where at present she dwelt only as a guest, and in a very embarrass- ing position — was not so blind to all perception of womanly delicacy as to prolong her stay ; and at length prevailed upon her father to take their departure on the day but one after that on which they had arrived. Mr. Quirk was perfectly miserable. He vehemently distrusted Titmouse, and feared and detested Gammon. As for the former gentleman, he had not made any definite advances whatever towards Miss Quirk, nor afibrded to any one the slightest evidence of a promise of marriage, either express or implied. He chattered to Miss Quirk an infinite deal of vulgar absurdity, but that was all, in spite of the innumerable opportunities afibrded him by the lady and her anxions parent. Was Titmouse acting under the secret advice of that deceitful devil Gammon ? — thought Mr. Quirk, in an ecstasy of perplexity and apprehension. Then as to the other matter — ^but there Gammon had almost as deep a stake, in proportion, as Quirk himself. On the morning of his departure, he and Gammon had a long interview, in which they several times came to high words ; but in the end Gammon vanquished his opponent as usual, allayed all his apprehensions, and accounted for all Titmouse's conduct in the most natural way in the world. " Look at his position just now," quoth Gammon, " the excitement, the novelty, the bewilderment, the indisposition he is experiencing : surely — surely this is not a moment to bring him to book 1" In short. Gammon at length brought Quirk, who had received the first intimation of the matter with a sudden grunt of surprise and anger, to acknowledge the propriety of Gammon's remaining behind, to protect Titmouse from the designing Yahoo that had got hold of him ; and solemnly pledged himself, as in the sight of Heaven, to use his utmost efforts to bring about as speedily as possible the two grand objects of Mr. Quirk's wishes. With this the old gentleman was fain to be satisfied ; but entered the chaise which was to convey Miss Quirk and himself to Grilston with as rueful a countenance as he had ever exhibited in his life. Mr. Titmouse was sufficiently recov- ered to be present at the departure of Miss Quirk, who regarded his inters esting and languid looks with an eye of melting sympathy and affection. With half a smile and half a tear, she slipped into his hand, as he led her to the chaise, a little sprig of heart's ease, which he at once stuck into the button-hole of his coat. " 'Pon my soul — must you go ? Devilish sorry you can't stay to have seen some fim I The old gent (meaning her fia,ther) don't quite seem to like it — he, he 1" said he, in a low tone ; then he handed her into the chaise, she dropping Tier veil to conceal the starting tear of mingled disappointment. 420 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. desire, and disgust, and they drove off, Titmouse kissing his hand to her, as he stood upon the steps ; and, as soon as they were out of sight,' he ex- changed a significant smile with Mr. Gammon. The next day. Titmouse rose ahout ten o'clock, almost entirely recov- ered from his indisposition. Accompanied by Mr. Yahoo and Mr. Fitz- Snooks, with whom he was conversing, as to the course he should take with reference to Sir Harkaway — whom, however, they advised him to treat with silent contempt, as he, Titmouse, was clearly in the wrong — ^he took a stroll about noon down the path leading to the park gates. They all three had cigars in their mouths, Titmouse walking between them, as odious-looking a little puppy, sure, as man ever saw — puffing out his smoke slowly, and with half-closed eye, his right hand stuck into his coat- pocket, and resting on his hip. These three figures — Heaven save the mark 1 were the new lord of Yatton and his select friends I " By jingo, surely here comes a parson," quoth Titmouse ; " what the devil can he want here?" 'Twas Doctor Tatham, who slowly approached them, dressed in his Sunday suit, and leaning on his old-fashioned walk- ing-stick, given him many years ago by the deceased Mrs. Aubrey. " Let's have some sport," said Fitz-Snooks. " We must look devilish serious — no grinning till the proper time," said Yahoo. " Hallo — ^you sir 1" commenced Titmouse, " who are you ?" Dr. Tatham took off his hat, bowed, and was passing on. "Devilish cool, upon — my — soul — sir!" said Titmouse, stopping and staring impudently at the worthy little Doctor, who seemed taken quite by surprise. " My worthy old gentleman," said Yahoo, with mock respect, " are you aware who it was that asked you a question ?" " I am not, sir," replied Dr. Tatham, quietly, but resolutely. " My name is Tittlebat Titmouse, at your service — and you are now in my grounds," said Titmouse, approaching him with an impudent air. " Am I really addressed by Mr. Titmouse?" inquired Dr. Tatham, some- what incredulously. " Why, 'pon my life, I think so, unless I am changed lately ; and by Jove, sir— now, who are you ?" " I am Dr. Tatham, sir, the vicar of Yatton : I had intended calling at the Hall, as a matter of courtesy ; but I fear I am intruding " " Devil a bit — no, 'pon honor, no ! you're a good old fellow, I don't doubt ! Pray-a — is that little church outside yours ?" " It is, sir," replied Dr. Tatham, seriously and sternly ; his manner com- pletely abashing the presumptuous coxcomb who addressed him. " Oh — well — I-I — ^"pon my soul, happy to see you, sir-^you'll find some- thing to eat in the Hall, I daresay '* " Do you preach in that same church of yours next Sunday?" inquired Mr. Yahoo, whose gross countenance had filled Dr. Tatham with unspeak- able aversion. " I preach there emery Sunday, sir, twice," he replied, gravely and dis- tantly. TEN TBOUSAND A YEAR. 421 " You see, sir," lisped Fitz-Snooks, " the prayers are so — so — devilish long and tiresome, if you could — eh ? — shorten 'em a little ? " Dr. Tatham slowly turned away from them, and, disregarding their calls to him, though their tone of voice was greatly altered, walked back again towards the gate, and quitted the park, for the first time in his life, with feelings of mortal repugnance. On reaching his little study, he sat down in his old arm-chair, and at once fell into a sad reverie, which lasted more than an hour ; and then he rose, and went to see the old blind stag- hound fed, and looked at it, licking his hands, with feelings of unusual tenderness ; and the Doctor shed a tear or two as he patted its smooth gray head. On Saturday morning, Mr. Titmouse, at Mr. Gammon's instance, had fixed to go over the estate, accompanied by that gentleman, and by Mr. Waters and Dickons, to give all the information required of them, and point out the position and extent of the property. To an eye capable of appreciating it, in what admirable order was everything 1 But Titmouse quickly tired of it, and when about a mile from the Hall, discovered that he had left his cigar-case behind him, at which he expressed infinite con- cern, and greatly to the annoyance of Gammon, and the contempt of his two bailiffi, insisted on returning home ; so they re-entered the park. How beautiful it was ! Its gently undulating surface, smooth as if overspread with ^een velvet ; trees great and small, single and in clumps, standing in positions so picturesque and commanding; the broad, babbling, clear trout-stream winding through the park, with here and there a mimic fall, seen faintly flashing and glistening in the distance ; herds of deer suddenly startled amid their green pastures and silent shades, and moving ofi" with graceful ease and rapidity ; here and there a rustic bridge over the stream ; here an old stone bench placed on an elevation commanding an extensive prospect ; there a kind of grotto, or an ivy-covered summer-house ; then the dense, extensive, and gloomy woods, forming a semicircular sweep round the back of the Hall ; all around, nearly as far as the eye could reach, land of every kind in the highest state of cultivation, plentifully stocked with fine cattle, and interspersed with snug and substantial farms. All this, thought Titmouse, might do very well for those who fancied that sort of thing ; but as for him, how the devil could he have thought of leaving his cigars behind him I Where, he wondered, were Yahoo and Fitz-Snooks ? and quickened his pace homeward. On Gammon the scene which they had been witnessing had made a pro- found impression ; and as his attention was now and then called ofi" from contemplating it, by some ignorant and puerile remark of the proprietor of the fine domain, he felt a momentary exasperation at himself for the part he had taken in the expulsion of the Aubreys, and in the introduc- tion of such a creature as Titmouse. That revived certain other thoughts, which led him into speculations of a description which would have afforded uneasiness even to the little idiot beside him, could he have been made aware of them. But the cloud that had darkened his brow was dis- pelled by a word or two of Titmouse. " Mr. Gammon, 'pon my soul you're 422 TEN THOUSAND A YEAB. devilish dull to-day," said he. Gammon started, and with his winning smile and cheerful voice instantly replied, " Oh, Mr. Titmouse, I was only thinking how happy you are, and that you deserve it." " Yes ; 'pon my soul it ought all to have been mine at my birth. Don't it tire you, Mr. Gammon, to walk in this up and down, zigzag, here-and- there sort of way? It does me, 'pon my life. What would I give for a cigar at this moment I" The next day was the Sabbath, tranquil and beautiful ; and just as the little tinkling bell of Yatton church had ceased, at haK-past ten o'clock, Dr. Tatham rose in his reading-desk and commenced the service. The church was quite full, for every one was naturally anxious to catch a glimpse of the new tenants of the Squire's pew. It was empty, however, till about five minutes after the service had commenced, when a gentleman walked slowly up to the church door, and having whispered an inquiry of the pew-opener which was the Squire's pew, she led him into it. All eyes settled upon him, and all were struck with his appearance, his calm, keen features and gentlemanly figure. It was, of course. Gammon, who> with the utmost decorum and solemnity, having stood for half a minute with his hat covering his face, during which time he reflected that Miss Aubrey had sat in that pew on the last occasion of her attendance at the church, turned round, and behaved with the greatest seriousness and apparent reverence throughout the service, paying marked attention to the sermon. Gammon was a contemptuous unbeliever, but he thought Dr. Tatham an amiable and learned enthusiast, most probably in earnest ; and he felt disposed to admit, as his eye glanced round the attentive and decent congregation, that the sort of thing was not without its advantages. Almost all present took him for Titmouse, watching every turn of hia countenance with intense interest ; and in their simplicity they rejoiced that Mr. Aubrey's successor was, at all events, so grave and respectable-looking a man, and they fancied that he frequently thought with kindness and regret of those whose seat he was occupying. About the middle of the service, the main door of the church standing wide open, the congregation beheld three gentlemen, smoking ciggrs, and laughing and talking together, approaching the porch. They were dressed very finely indeed, and were supposed to be some of the great friends of the new Squire. They stopped when within a few yards of the church, and after whispering together for a moment, one of them, having expelled a mouthful of smoke, stepped forward to the door, holding his cigar in one hand, and with the other taking ofi" his hat. There was a faint smirk on his face (for he did not catch the stern counte- nance of Gammon anxiously directed towards him), till he beheld Dr. Tatham's solemn eye fixed upon him, while he made a momentary pause. Titmouse blushed scarlet, made a hesitating but most respectful bow, and, stepping back a few paces, replaced his hat on his head, and lit his cigar from that of Mr. Fitz-Snooks, within view, perhaps unconsciously, of more than half the congregation. Then the three gentlemen, after Mr. Titmouse had spoken a word or two to them, burst out into a laugh, and betook themselves to that part of the churchyard which had been the scene of Mr. Aubrey's last agony, on quitting the spot where reposed the precious re- TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 423 mains of his mother. Leaning against the tombstone, they smoked out their cigars, making merry remarks on the quaint inscriptions visible on the surrounding grave-stones. Then they retraced their steps to the Hall, to take a turn at billiards. CHAPTER III. A GENTLEMAN DT DIITICUIiTIES PONDERING HIS POSITION AND PROSPECTS — NEVER DESPAIR. AUBREY'S sudden plunge into the cold and deep stream of trouble had, the first shock over, served, as it were, to brace his nerves. It is at such a time, and on such an occasion, that the temper and quality of the soul are tried ; whether it be weak in seeming strength, or strong in seeming weakness. How many are there, walking with smiling, complar cent confidence along the flowery bank, who, if suddenly bidden to strip and enter, would turn pale and tremble as they reluctantly prepared to obey the stem mandate ; and, after a convulsive shudder, a faint shriek, a brief struggle, disappear from the surface, paralyzed, never to be seen again 1 In such a point of view, let.us hope that the situation of Aubrey, one of deepening difficulty and danger — the issue of which, hidden in the darkness of the future, no earthly intelligence could predict — will excite in the thoiightful reader an anxiety not unmingled with confidence. The enervating eiTects of maetivity upon the physical structure and ener- gies of mankind, few can have failed to observe. Bust is more fatal to metal than wear. A thorough-bred racer, if confined in stable or paddock, or a boxer, born of the finest muscular make, if prematurely incarcerated in jail, will, after a few years, become quite unable to compete with those vastly their inferiors in natural endowments and capabilities, however they may, with careful training, be restored to the full enjoyment and exer- cise of their powers. Thus is it with the temper and intellect of man, which, secluded from the scenes of appropriate stimuluB and exercise, become relaxed and weakened. What would have become of the glorious spirit and powers of Achilles, if his days had all melted away in the tender, delicate, emasculating inactivity and indulgence of the court of Lyco- medes ? The language of the ancient orator concerning his art may be applied to life, that not only its greatness, but its enjoyment, consists in action — action — action. The feelings, for instance, may become so mor- bidly sensitive, as to give an appearance of weakness to the whole charac- ter ; and this is likely to be specially the case of one bom with those of superior liveliness and delicacy, if he be destined to move only in the realms of silent and profound abstraction and contemplation — in those refined regions which may be termed a sort of paradise ; where every con- ceivable source of enjoyment is cultivated for the fortunate and fastidious occupants, to the very uttermost, and all those innumerable things which fret, worry, and harass the temper, the head, and the heart of the dwellers 424 TEN THOUSAND A TEAS. in the rude regions of ordinary life — anxiously weeded out ; instead of entering into the throng of life, and taking part in its constant cares and conflicts — scenes which require all his energies always in exercise, to keep his place, and escape heing trodden under foot. Kely upon it, that the man who feels a tendency to shrink from collision with his fellows, to run away with distaste or apprehension from the great practical business of life, does not enjoy moral or intellectual health ; will quickly contract a silly conceit and fastidiousness, or sink into imbecility and misanthropy ; and should devoutly thank Providence for the occasion, however momen- tarily startling and irritating, which stirs him out of his lethargy, his cow- ardly lethargy, and sends him among his fellows — puts him, in a maimer, upon a course of training ; upon an experience of comparative suffering, it may be of sorrow, requiring the exercise of powers of which he had before scarcely been conscious, and giving him presently the exhilarating consciousness that he is exhibiting himself — a watt. "It is probable," says the late Mr. Foster, in his Essay on "Decision of Character" — " that the men most distinguished for decision have not, in general, possessed a large share of tenderness : and it is easy to imagine that the laws according to which our nature is formed will with great difficulty allow the combination of the refined sensibilities with a hardy, never shrinking, never yielding constancy. Is it not almost of the essence of this constancy to be free from even the perception of such impressions as cause a mind, weak through susceptibility, to relax, or to waver ? No doubt this firmness consists partly in overcoming feelings ; but it may con- sist partly, too, in not having tiiem." The case I am contemplating is perhaps the difficult, though by no means, I am persuaded, uncommon one, of a person possessing these delicate sensibilities, these lively feelings; yet with a native strength of character beneath, which, when the occasion for its display has arisen, when it is placed in a scene of constant and compulsory action, wUl fully evince and vindicate itself. It is then " tha,t another essential principle of decision of character," to quote from another part of the same essay, " will be displayed, namely, a total incapability of surrendering to indifference or delay the serious determinations of the mind. A strenuous will accompanies the conclusions of thought, and constantly urges the utmost effi)rts for their practical accomplishment. The intellect is invested, as it were, with a glowing atmosphere of passion, under the influence of which the cold dictates of reason take fire, and spring into active powers." There is, indeed, nothing like throwing a man of the description we are considering upon his own resources, and compeUing him to exertion. Listen, ye languid and often gifted victims of indolence and ennui, to the noble language of one blessed with as splendid powers as perhaps were ever vouchsafed to man — Kdmund Burke 1 " Dimctri.TY is a severe instructor, set over us by the Supreme ordi- nance of a parental guardian and legislator, who knows us better than we know ourselves, as he loves us better, too. Pater ipse colendi, ha/ud faeUem esse viam voluit. He that wrestles with us, strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skUl ; our antagonist is our helper. This amicable contest TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 425 with difficulty obliges us to an intimate acquaintance with our object, and compels us to consider it in all its relations ; it will not suffer us to be superficial." The man, moreover, whose disposition is one of sterling excellence, despite the few foibles which it may have contracted in comparative soli- tude and inactivity, when he is compelled to mix indiscriminately with the great family of man, oh how patient and tolerant he becomes of the weak- ness and errors of others, when thus constantly reminded of and made to feel his own ! Oh, how pitiful 1 how very pitiful he is I How his heart yearns and overflows with love, and mercy, and charity towards his species, indimdwdly — whose eye looks oft on their grievous privations, their often incurable distress and misery I — and who in the spirit of a heavenly phil- anthropy penetrates even to those deserted quarters — " Wliere hopeless anguish pours her moan, And lonely want retires to die I" It may be that some of the preceding observations are applicable to many individuals of the purest and most amiable characters, and powerful and cultivated intellects, in the higher classes of society, whose affluence exempts them from the necessity of actively intermingling with the con- cerns of life, and feeling the consciousness of individual responsibility, — of having a personal necessity for anxious care and exertion. They are assured that a position of real precariousness and danger is that requisite for developing the energies of a man of high moral and intellectual cha- racter, as it will expose to destruction one of a contrary description. I have endeavored, in previous portions of this history, to delineate faithfully the character of Mr. Aubrey — one (how idle and childish would have been the attempt !) by no means perfect, yet with high qualities. He was a man of noble simplicity of character, — generous, confiding, sincere, aiTectionate ; possessing a profound sense of religion, really influencing his conduct in life ; an intellect of a superior order, of a practical turn, of a masculine strength — as had been evidenced by his successful academical career, his thorough mastery of some of the most important and difficult branches of human knowledge, and by his aptitude for public business. He was at the same time possessed of a sensibility that was certainly ex- cessive. He had a morbid tendency to pensiveness, if not melancholy, which, with a feeble physical constitution, was partly derived from his mother, and partly accounted for by the species of life which he had led. From his early youth he had been addicted to close and severe study, which had given permanence and strength to his naturally contemplative torn. He had not, moreover, with too many possessed of his means and station, entered, just at the dawn and bloom of manhood, upon that course of dissipation which is a sure and speedy means of destroying " the fresh- ness of thought and of feeling," which "never again can be theirs," and inducing a lowered tone of feeling, and a callousness which some seem to consider necessary to enable them to pass through life easily and agreeably. He, on the contrary, had stepped out of the gloom and solitude of the cloister into the pure and peaceful region of domestic life, with all its hal- 426 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. lowed and unutterable tendernesses, where the afFections grow luxuriantly ; in the constant society of such women as his mother, his sister, his wife, and latterly his lovely children. Then he was possessed, all this while, of a fine fortune — one which placed him far beyond the necessity for anxiety or exertion. With such tastes as these, such a temperament as his, and leading such a life as his, is it surprising that the tone of his feelings should have become somewhat relaxed ? The tliree or four years which he had spent in Parliament, when he plunged into its fierce and absorbing excitement with characteristic ardor and determination, though calculated to sliarpen the fexjulties and draw forth the resources of his intellect^ sub- jected him to those alternations, of elevation and depression, those extremes of action and reaction, which were not calculated to correct his morbid tendencies. Therefore came there up to him a messenger from Heaven, with trouble and affliction in his countenance, telling him to descend from the happy solitude of his high mountain, into the dismal hubbub and conflict in the plain beneath. He came down with humility and awe, and with reverent resignation ; and was — ^instantly surrounded ! — A weak man would have been confused and stunned, and so sunk hdip- less into the leaden arms of despair. But it was not so with Aubrey. There was that dormant energy within which, when appealed to, quickly shook off the weakness contracted by inaction, and told him tobev/p and doing ; and that, not with the fitfulness of mere impulse, but the constant strength of a well-regulated mind, conscious of its critical position ; and also of a calm inflexible determination to vanquish difficulty, and if possi- ble escape the imminent danger, however long and doubtful might prove the conflict. Above all, he was consoled and blessed by the conviction that nothing could befall him that was not the ordination of Providence, ^— " supremely wise, Alike in what it gi^ea and what denies ;" that His was the ordering of the sunshine and the gloom, the tempest and the calm of life. This was to Aubrey-^-this is — as the humble writer of these pages, who has had in his time his measure of anxiety and affliction, has in his soul a profound and intimate persuasion and conviction of — ^the only source of real fortitude and resignation, amidst the perplexities, afflic- tions, and dangers of life. Depend upon it, that a secret and scarce- acknowledged disbelief, or at least doubt and distrust, of the very existence of God, and of His government of the world — his seal presence and INTEEPEEENOE with the men, and things, of the world — ^Ues at the bottom of almost all impatience and despair under adverse circumstances. How can he be impatient, or despairing, who believes not only the existence of God, and His moral govemn^ent of the world, but that He has mercifully vouchsafed to reveal and declare expressly that the infliction of suffering and sorrow is directly from Himself, and designed solely for the advantage of His creatures ? " If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons ; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not ? We have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them reverence : shall TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 427 we not mucli rather be in subjeotion unto the Father of spirits, and live ? For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure ; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now, no chastening for the present seemelh to be joyous, but grievous : nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby. Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees." While thus benignantly teacheth the voice of God, thought Aubrey, shall I rather incline mine ear to the blighting whisper of the evil one — a liar, and the father of a lie, who would fain that I should become a fool, saying within my heart there is no God — or, if I cannot but believe that there is one, provoking me to charge Him foolishly, to curse Him and die ? Not so, however, had Aubrey read the Scriptures — not so had he learned the Christian religion. The last time that we caught a glimpse of the ruined family, they had arrived nearly at the end of their long and melancholy journey from Yatton to the metropolis. When before had such been the character of their journey to town ? Had they not ever looked forward with pleasure towards the brilliant gayeties of the season ; their re-entrance into an ex- tensive and splendid circle of friends — and he into the delightful excite- ment of political life — the opening of the parliamentary campaign ? Alas, how changed now is all this ! how gloomy and threatening the aspect of the metropolis, whose dusky outskirts they were entering! With what feelings of oppression — of vague indefinite apprehension — did they now approach it : their spirits heavy, their hearts bleeding with their recent severance from Yatton! Nom, distress, desertion, dismay, seemed asso- ciated with the formidable name of " London." They had now no place of their own awaiting, thoroughly prepared for them, their welcome arrival, but must drive to some quiet and inexpensive family hotel for temporary shelter. As their eyes caught familiar point after point in their route through the suburbs — now passed at a moderate pace, with a modest pair of horses; formerly dashed past by them in their oarriage- and-four — there were few words spoken by those within the carriage. Both the children were fast asleep. Poor Kate, as they entered Piccadilly, burst into tears : her pent-up feelings suddenly gave way, and she cried heartily ; Mrs. Aubrey also wept. Mr. Aubrey was calm, but evidently oppressed with profound anxiety. Still he affectionately took their hands, and, in something which was designed for a cheerful tone and manner, besought them to restrain their feelings, and thank Heaven that so far they had got on safely. " I shall be better presently, Charles," said Miss Aubrey, passionately, burying her face in her handkerchief, "but I feel quite afraid of London." Over the pavement they rattled, meeting carriages rolling in all direc- tions — ^for it was about the dinner hour, and in the height of the season ; and it was the casual but vivid evidence thus afibrded of their desolate position, this sudden glimpse of old familiar scenes, which had moment- arily overcome the fortitude of Miss Aubrey. They drove to a quiet family hotel in a retired street running parallel with Piccadilly. They were all wearied, both in mind and body, and after a slight repast, and 428 TEN TBOVSAND A TEAS. much anxious and desponding conversation, they bade each other affec- tionate adieus, and retired to rest. They rose in the morning refreshed •with repose, and in a more tranquil frame of mind than could have been expected. "Now we enter,'' said Aubrey, with a cheerful smile, "upon the real business of life ; so we must discard sentiment — we must not think of the past, but the future." At their request, they, shortly after breakfast, accompanied him to the house agent who had been commissioned by Mr. Eunnington to look out two or three residences, from which, on their arrival in town^ they might easily select that deemed most suitable for their purposes. One was par- ticularly recommended to them, and after due iiiquiry, within three days after their arrival in town, they engaged it. It was a small but conve- nient, airy, and comfortable hou«, within five minutes' walk of Hyde Park, and situated in Vivian street — only recently completed, and as quiet and retired as they could have wished. The rent, too, was moderate — fifty pounds a year. Though none of the houses in the street were large, they were all strictly private residences, and had an air of thorough re- spectability. Mr. Aubrey's house had but one window to the dining-room and two to the drawing-room. The passage and staircase were sufficiently commodious, as were the chief apartments. At the back of the house was a small garden, about twenty yards in length and about ten in width, with several lilacs, laburnums, and shrubs, and a considerable portion of the wall was covered with ivy. Was not this a delightful place for the chil- dren to play about in ? The back parlor, a somewhat small one, certainly, looked into this garden, and was at once appropriated to be a library for Mr. Aubrey. Within a week's time, all their luggage, furniture, &c., had arrived in town from Yatton, and they had quite sufficient to furnish their little residence out of the wreck of the equipments of the old Hall, adapted as it was, under the tasteful superintendence of Mrs. and Miss Aubrey, with equal regard to elegance, simplicity, and economy. How busy were they all for a fortnight I Many and many an irrepressible sigh and rebel- lious tear would the sight of these old familiar objects, in their new situ- ation, occasion them ! Some half-dozen family pictures hung upon the wall. Over the mantelpiece was suspended a piece of beautiful embroid- ery — by poor old Mrs. Aubrey, many years before — of the arms of the family. In the dining-room was the old high-backed chair in which she had sat for twenty years and more. In the drawing-room was Miss Aubrey's favorite ebony inlaid cabinet and Mrs. Aubrey's piano ; and, in short, everywhere might be seen the delicate traces of dear, graceful, and elegant woman, touching nothing that she adorns not. What with the silk curtains, a carpet of simple but tasteful pattern, and the various articles of furniture and ornament, all possessing a kind of old family air — all from Yatton — I declare there was a sort of richness about the general aspect of the drawing-room ; and when Mrs. Aubrey and Kate came to fetch Mr. Aubrey out of his little library to witness the completion of their labors, he gazed round him for a while, looked at each object, and then at the two dear, fond beings standing beside him, awaiting his opiriion with womanly TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 429 eagerness ; but he could not express his feelings. He kissed each of them tenderly and in silence, and then they were a little overcome. His library, also, though small, was as snug and comfortable as a bookworm could have desired. AU the sides were covered with books, and in the middle were the library-table and arm-chair which he had used in Grosvenor street, and which were, it must be owned, on too large a scale for the little room to which they had been removed. That this oppressed family were not incessantly and painfully reminded of the contrast afforded by their present to their former circumstances, I do not pretend to assert, but it seldom formed a topic of conversation between any of them. When, however, the bustle and occupation of arranging their house was over, and Mrs. Aubrey and Kate were left a good deal to themselves, — Mr. Aubrey being either absent from home or in his library, engaged in matters of the last importance to them all, — then they would talk together with increasing eagerness and excitement about past times, and their recent troubles and bereavements, not displaying then — sweet souls ! — quite that degree of resignation and fortitude which they strove to exhibit in the presence of Mr. Aubrey. " Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon." They passed a good deal of their time in-doors, in needlework, praciieal family needlework, an art in which they were not particularly accom- plished, but which they quickly acquired from a seamstress whom they kept engaged constantly in the house for several weeks. Then sometimes they would sit down to the piano ; at other times they would read — on all occasions, however, generally falling into conversation on the all-engrossing topic of their expulsion from Yatton. Now and then they could scarcely refrain from a melancholy smile when they remarked upon their shrunken personal importance. " Keally, Agnes," said Miss Aubrey one day, " I feel just as one can fancy a few poor newly-shorn sheep must feel ! — so light and cold — so much less than they were half an hour before I Surely they must hardly know what to make of themselves." " Then I suppose, mamma," said Charles, who was sitting on a stool beside them — making believe to write on a small slate — "I am a little sheep ?" They both looked at the child with silent tenderness, and pre- sently thought of Him who " tempers the wind to the shorn lamb." Their proximity to the parks was delightful, and many a pleasant hour did they pass there with the children ; and then, returning home, would occupy themselves with writing letters — and long ones they usually were — to early and loved friends, especially to Dr. Tatham, with whom Miss Aubrey kept up a constant correspondence. I ought to have mentioned before that Mr. Aubrey, in bringing his favorite valet up to town with him, had no other design than, with that kind thoughtfulness for which he was remarkable, to have an opportunity of securing for him a good situ- ation, and that he succeeded in doing, after about a fortnight's interval ; but the poor fellow was quite confounded when he first heard that he was to quit the service of Mr. Aubrey, and, almost falling on his knees, begged to be permitted to continue and receive no wages, and he should be a 430 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. happy man. Mr. Aubrey was, however, firm ; and on parting with him, which he did with no little emotion, put two guineas into his hand as a present, and wished him health and happiness. The poor fellow's deep distress at parting with the family sensibly affected them all, and re- minded them vividly of one of the latest and bitterest scenes at Yatton. On his departure, their little establishment consisted of but three female servants — a cook, a housemaid, and a nurserymaid. It took them some little time to familiarize themselves with the attendance of a female ser- vant at dinner. That was one little matter ; and another was Qiarles' now and then complaining of being tired, and inquiring why his mamma did not drive in the carriage as she used to do, and how he should like to go with her ! — ^which brought home to them, in a lively manner, their altered cir- cumstances — their fallen fortunes. Many, many were the anxious calcula- tions they made together, of the probable amount of their annual expendi- ture — ^which at length, inexperienced as they were, they fixed at from £300 to £400, including everything ; his wife and sister eagerly assuring Mr» Aubrey, and persuading each other, that as for clothes, their wardrobe would, with care, last them for three or four years to come, so that that was an item which might be almost altogether excluded from the account ; except, by the way, the children — ^yes, they should be always well dressed ; that all agreed upon. Then there was their education, oh, Kate would see to that ! Could they, in this manner, with rigid and persevering econ- omy, hold on their way, for a year or two ? was a question they often asked one another, with beating hearts. If they could, .then, they said, they should be happy, for they had health, they had peace of mind ; their con- sciences were not oppressed by a sense of misconduct, and they were able to put their trust in Providence. Mr. Aubrey resolved to live in strict privacy ; and they consequently communicated their residence to but one or two of their numerous friends, and to them only in confidence. To have acted otherwise would have seriously interfered with the arrangements which, long ago contemplated, he had now fixed upon. It would have been perpetually calling their attention to the contrast between former days and scenes ajid the present; opening their wounds afresh ; and, moreover, subjecting them to kind and generous importunities and offers which, however delicate, would have been exquisitely painful and trying to an honorable pride. But it is time that I should proceed to give a more particular account of the position, the per- sonal feelings, and the purposes and prospects, of Mr. Aubrey. From the moment when he received the first intimation of the desperate assault about to be made upon his fortunes, he felt a conviction — whether arising from weakness, or superstition, or any other cause, it concerns me not here to say — that the issue would be a disastrous one for him ; and, the first alarm and confusion over, he addressed himself with serious calmness, with deep anxiety, to the determination of his future course of life. A man of his refined taste and feeling would inevitably appreciate exquisitely — with, indeed, a most agonizing intensity — the loss of all those superior en- joyments — the ddicicB of life — to which he had been from his birth accus- tomed. Semper enim delicati ac nwUiter vmt. I speak not here of the mere TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. 431 exterior " appliances and means" of wealth and station, but of the fastidi- ous and sensitive condition of feeling and temper which such a state of things is calculated to engender in a person of his description. He could part with the one ; but how could he divest himself of the other ? Even had he been alone in the world, and not surrounded with objects of the tenderest regard, whose safety or ruin was involved in his own, one of the results of his opponent's success — namely, his claim to the mesne profits — was calculated to fetter all his movements, to hang like a millstone round his neck ; and that effect, indeed, it had. Still he played the man, resolved to act promptly, and with the best consideration he could give to his critical position. He had not yet reached the prime of life ; had a fair share of health ; had been blessed with the inestimable advantages of a first-rate education, and, above aU, had followed out his early advantages by labori- ous and systematic study. He had not only made accurate, extensive, and valuable acquisitions of knowledge, but learned how to use them — to turn them to practical account. What would, he thought, have become of him had he, or those before him, neglected his education? Then he had acquired business-habits in the House of Commons, and had friends and connections who might be of essential service to him, if he could but first succeed in attaining such a position as would enable him to avail himself of their good offices. Surely all these were cheeriiig considerations I Had he not even advantages superior to those possessed by many in entering upon some one of the scenes of honorable struggle for a livelihood and dis- tinction ? He surveyed all the professions with much deliberation. The army and navy were of course out of the question. There was the Ghurch, but no — his soul recoiled from the degradation and guilt of entering tha* holy calling from mercenary motives, merely as a means of obtaining a livelihood ; and he would rather have perished than prefer the prayer uttered by the descendants of one whose lamentable case is left on record — who " came and crouched for a piece of silver, and a morsel of bread, say- ing. Put me, I pray thee, into one of the priest's offices, that I may eat a piece of bread." (1 Samuel ii. 36.) A personage of high distinction in the Church, of eminent piety and learning, aware of the misfortunes of Aubrey, and well acquainted with his pure and exemplary character, his learning, acquirements and fitness for the ministerial office, wrote to him, oiTering every facility for taking orders, with an assurance that he need not wait long before being placed in a situation of public usefulness. Though he assured Mr. Aubrey that he believed himself consulting the best interests both of Mr. Aubrey and of the Church, the scruples of Mr. Aubrey were not to be overcome ; and he wrote to the kind and venerable prelate a letter declining his offers, and assigning reasons which filled him with pro- found respect for Mr. Aubrey. Then literature, for which — for real sub- stantial literature — he possessed superior qualifications, was proverbially precarious. As for teaching, he felt quite unfit for it ; he had not the least inclination for it ; 'twas a cheerless scene of exertion, in which, as it were, he felt his energies perishmg in the imng. The Bab was the profession to which his tastes and inclinations, and, he hoped, his qualifications, pointed him. 432 TEN THOUSAND A YEAR. CHAPTER IV. THE ATTOKl