Chapter III (2)

"Ah, my dear Titmouse," quoth Gammon, blandly, and with a smile of delicious flattery, "I hope you don't give her Ladyship just cause for _jealousy_?--eh? You must not avail yourself of your--your acknowledged power over the sex--ahem!"

Mr. Titmouse, half closing his eyes, silently expelled a mouthful of smoke, while an ineffable smile stole over his features.

"You must not neglect her Ladyship, Titmouse," quoth Gammon, gently shaking his head, and with an anxiously deferential air.

"'Pon my life, I don't neglect her!--Public life, you know--eh?" replied Titmouse, slowly, with his eyes closed, and speaking with the air of one suffering from _ennui_. Here a pause of some moments ensued.

"Can we have about half an hour to ourselves, uninterruptedly?" at length inquired Mr. Gammon.

"Ah--a--why--my singing-master is coming here a little after twelve," quoth Titmouse, turning himself round, so as to be able to look at the clock on the mantelpiece.

"Oh, probably less than that period will suffice, if we shall not be interrupted--may I ring the bell, and will you give orders to that effect?" With this, Gammon rang the bell; and on the servant's appearing:--

"I say, sir--do you hear, demme?" said Titmouse, "not at home--till this gentleman's gone." The man bowed, and withdrew; and on his closing the door, Gammon softly stepped after him and bolted it; by which time Titmouse, somewhat startled, withdrew his hookah, for an instant, from his mouth, and gazed rather anxiously at Gammon, about whose appearance he then, for the first time, fancied he saw something unusual.

"Aha!--My stars, Mr. Gammon, we're going to be _devilish_ secret--aren't we!" exclaimed Titmouse, with a faint smile, having watched Mr. Gammon's movement with great surprise; and he began to smoke rather more energetically than before, with his eye fixed on the grave countenance of Mr. Gammon.

"My dear Titmouse," commenced his visitor, drawing his chair near to him, and speaking in a very earnest but kindly manner, "does it never astonish you, when you reflect on the stroke of fortune which has elevated you to your present point of splendor and distinction?"

"Most amazing!--uncommon!" replied Titmouse, apprehensively.

"It _is_!--marvellous! unprecedented! You are the envy of hundreds upon hundreds of thousands! Such an affair as yours does not happen above once or twice in a couple of centuries--if so often! You cannot imagine the feelings of delight with which _I_ regard all this--this brilliant result of my long labors, and untiring devotion to your service."--He paused.

"Oh, 'pon my life, yes; it's all very true," replied Titmouse, with a little trepidation, replenishing the bowl of his hookah with tobacco.

"May I venture to hope, my dear Titmouse, that I have established my claim to be considered, in some measure, as the sole architect of your extraordinary fortunes--your earliest--your most constant friend?"

"You see, as I've often said, Mr. Gammon--I'm most uncommon obliged to you for all favors--so help me----! and no mistake," said Titmouse, exhibiting a countenance of increasing seriousness; and he rose from his recumbent posture, and, still smoking, sat with his face turned full towards Mr. Gammon, who resumed--

"As I am not in the habit, my dear Titmouse, of beating about the bush, let me express a hope that you consider the services I have rendered you not unworthy of requital"----

"Oh yes--to be sure--certainly," quoth Titmouse, slightly changing color--"anything, by Jove, that's in my power--but it is most particular unfortunate that--ahem!--so deuced hard up just now--but--ah, 'pon my soul, I'll speak to Lord Bulfinch, or some of those people, and get you something--though I sha'n't do anything of the kind for _Snap_--dem him! You've no idea," continued Titmouse, anxiously, "how devilish thick Lord Bulfinch and I are--he shakes hands with me when we meet alone in the lobby--he does, 'pon my life."

"I am very much obliged, my dear Titmouse, for your kind offer--but I have a _little_ political influence myself, when I think fit to exert it," replied Gammon, gravely.

"Well, then," interrupted Titmouse, eagerly--"as for money, if that's what--by jingo! but if _you_ don't know how _precious_ hard up one is just now"--

"My dear sir," replied Gammon, his countenance sensibly darkening as he went on, "the subject on which we are now engaged is one of inexpressible interest and importance, in my opinion, to each of us; and let us discuss it calmly. I am prepared to make a communication to you immediately, which you will never forget to the day of your death. Are you prepared to receive it?"

"Oh yes!--Never so wide awake in my life! O Lord! fire away!"--replied Titmouse; and taking the tip of his hookah from his lips, and holding it in the fingers of his left hand, he leaned forward, staring open-mouthed at Gammon.

"Well, my dear Titmouse, then I will proceed. I will not enjoin you to secrecy;--and that not merely because I have full confidence in your honor--but because you cannot disclose it to any mortal man but at the peril of immediate and utter ruin."

"'Pon my soul, most amazing! Demme, Mr. Gammon, you frighten me out of my wits!" said Titmouse, turning paler and paler, as his recollection became more and more distinct of certain mysterious hints of Mr. Gammon's, many months before, at Yatton, as to his power over Titmouse.

"Consider for a moment. You are now a member of Parliament; the unquestioned owner of a fine estate; the husband of a lady of very high rank--the last direct representative of one of the proudest and most ancient of the noble families of Great Britain; you yourself are next but one in succession to almost the oldest barony in the kingdom; in fact, in all human probability, you are the next LORD DRELINCOURT; and all this through ME." He paused.

"Well--excuse me, Mr. Gammon--but I hear;--though--ahem! you're (meaning no offence)--I can't for the life and soul of me tell what the devil it is you're driving at"--said Titmouse, twisting his finger into his hair, and gazing at Gammon with intense anxiety. For some moments Mr. Gammon remained looking very solemnly and in silence at Titmouse; and then proceeded.

"Yet you are _really_ no more entitled to _be_ what you seem--what you are thought--or to possess what you at present possess--than--the little wretch that last swept your chimneys here!"

The hookah dropped out of Titmouse's hand upon the floor, and he made no effort to pick it up, but sat staring at Gammon, with cheeks almost as white as his shirt-collar, and in blank dismay.

"I perceive you are agitated, Mr. Titmouse," said Gammon, kindly.

"By Jove--I should think so!" replied Titmouse, faintly; but he tried to assume an incredulous smile--in vain, however; and to such a pitch had his agitation reached, that he rose, opened a cabinet near him, and taking out from it a brandy-flask and a wine-glass, poured it out full, and drank it off. "You a'n't _joking_, Mr. Gammon, eh?" Again he attempted a sickly smile.

"God forbid, Mr. Titmouse!"

"Well--but," faltered Titmouse, "_why_ a'n't I entitled to it all? Hasn't the law given it to me? And can't the law do as it likes?"

"No one on earth knows the _what_ and the _why_ of this matter but myself; and, if you choose, no one ever shall; nay, I will take care, if you come this morning to my terms, to deprive even myself of all means of proving what I can _now_ prove, at any moment I choose"----

"Lord, Mr. Gammon!" ejaculated Titmouse, passing his hand hastily over his damp forehead--his agitation visibly increasing. "What's to be the figure?" he faltered presently, and looked as if he dreaded to hear the answer.

"If you mean, what are my _terms_--I will at once tell you:--they are terms on which I shall peremptorily insist; they have been long fixed in my own mind; I am quite inflexible; so help me Heaven, I will not vary from them a hair's breadth! I require first, to sit in Parliament for Yatton at the next election; and afterwards alternately with yourself; and secondly, that you immediately grant me an annuity for my life of two thousand pounds a-year on your"----

Titmouse sprang from the sofa, dashing his fist on the table, and uttering a frightful imprecation. He stood for a moment, and then threw himself desperately at full length on the sofa, muttering the same execration which had first issued from his lips. Gammon moved not a muscle, but fixed a steadfast eye on Titmouse; the two might have been compared to the affrighted rabbit, and the deadly boa-constrictor.

"It's all a swindle!--a d----d swindle!" at length he exclaimed, starting up into a sitting posture, and almost grinning defiance at Gammon.

"You're a swindler!"--he exclaimed vehemently.

"Possibly--but _you_, sir, are a BASTARD," replied Gammon, calmly. Titmouse looked the picture of horror, and trembled in every limb.

"It's a lie!--It's all a lie!"--he gasped.

"Sir, you are a _bastard_"--repeated Gammon, bitterly, and extending his forefinger threateningly towards Titmouse. Then he added with sudden vehemence--"Wretched miscreant--do you presume to tell me I lie? You base-born cur!"--a lightning glance shot from his eye; but he restrained himself. Titmouse sat at length as if petrified, while Gammon, in a low tone, and with fearful bitterness of manner, proceeded--"_You_ the owner of Yatton? _You_ the next Lord Drelincourt? No more than the helper in your stables! One breath of mine blights you forever--as an impostor--a mere audacious swindler--to be spit upon! to be kicked out of society--perhaps to be transported for life. Gracious Heavens! what will the Earl of Dreddlington say when he hears that his sole daughter and heiress is married to a----It will kill _him_, or he will kill _you_!"

"Two can play at that," whispered Titmouse, faintly--indeed almost inarticulately. There was nearly a minute's pause.

"No--but _is_ it all true?--honor!" inquired Titmouse, in a very subdued voice.

"As God is my witness!" replied Gammon.

"Well," exclaimed Titmouse, after a prodigious sigh, "then at any rate, you're in for it with me; you said just now you'd done it all. Aha! I recollect, Mr. Gammon! I should no more have thought of it _myself_--Lord! than--what d'ye say to _that_, Mr. Gammon?"

"Alas, sir! it will not avail you," replied Gammon, with a fearful smile; "for I never made the dreadful discovery of your illegitimacy till it was too late--till at least two months after I had put you (whom I believed the true heir) into possession of Yatton!"

"Ah--I don't know--but--why didn't you tell Lord Dreddlington? Why did you let me marry Lady Cicely? By Jove, but it's _you_ he'll kill," quoth Titmouse, eagerly.

"Yes!--Alas! I ought to have done so," replied Mr. Gammon, with a profound sigh--adding, abstractedly, "It may not be too late to make his Lordship _some_ amends. I may save his _title_ from degradation. Lord Drelincourt"----

"O Lord!" ejaculated Titmouse, involuntarily, and almost unconsciously, staring stupidly at Gammon, who continued with a renewed sigh--"Yes, I _ought_ to have told his Lordship--but I own--I was led away by feelings of pity--of affection for YOU--and, alas! is this the return?" He spoke this with a look and in a tone of sorrowful reproach.

"Well, you shouldn't have come down on one so suddenly--all at once--how can a man--eh? Such _horrid_ news!"

"It has cost me, sir, infinitely greater pain to tell you, than it has cost you to hear it!"

"By the living Jove!" exclaimed Titmouse, starting up with a sort of recklessness, and pouring out and tossing off a second glassful of brandy--"it _can't_ be true--it's all a dream! I--I a'n't--I _can't_ be a bas---- perhaps _you're_ all this while the true heir, Mr. Gammon?" he added briskly, and snapped his fingers at his companion.

"No, sir, I am not," replied Gammon, calmly; "but let me tell you, _I know where he is to be found_, Mr. Titmouse! Do you commission me to go in search of him?" he inquired, suddenly fixing his bright penetrating eye upon Titmouse, who instantly stammered out--"O Lord! By Jove! no, no!"

Gammon could scarcely suppress a bitter smile, so ludicrous were the look and tone of Titmouse.

"You shouldn't have let me spend such a lot of money, if it wasn't mine all the while"----

"The estate was, in a manner, Mr. Titmouse, in my _gift_; and in pitching upon you, sir, out of several, I had imagined that I had chosen a gentleman--a man grateful and honorable"----

"'Pon my solemn soul, so I _am_!" interrupted Titmouse, eagerly.

"I had but to scrawl a line or two with my pen, the very first day that I saw you at the shop of Mr. Tag-rag--and there, sir--or in some similar hole--you would have been at this moment!" replied Gammon, with a sudden sternness which quite overawed Titmouse; totally losing sight, however, of the very different account of the matter which he had given Titmouse five minutes before; but the very best and most experienced liars have short memories. Here it was, however, _Liar_ v. _Fool_; and the latter did not perceive the slip made by his adversary--who, however, suddenly became aware of his little inconsistency, and colored.

"You'll excuse me, sir," quoth Titmouse, presently; and with an air which was becoming momentarily more timid and doubtful--"but _will_ you, if all this isn't a bottle of smoke, tell me how you can _prove_ it all? Because, you know, it isn't only _saying_ the thing that will do--you know, Mr. Gammon?"

"Certainly--certainly! You are quite right, Mr. Titmouse! Nothing can be more reasonable! Your curiosity shall be gratified. Aware that your natural acuteness, my dear sir, would in all probability prompt you to make the very observation you have now made, I have provided myself with the two principal documents, and you shall see them; though I doubt whether you will at first sight understand them, or appreciate their importance; but, if you desire it, I will fully explain them to you."

With this he produced his pocket-book, and took out carefully two small pieces of paper, folded up, which, after a very brief preliminary explanation which made Titmouse tremble from head to foot, and no longer disbelieve the representations of Gammon, he unfolded and read--Titmouse looking affrightedly over his shoulder.

"Do I know the hand-writing?" he inquired faintly.

"Probably not," replied Gammon.

"It's a devilish queer sort of writing, and precious little of it"----

"It _is_, and when you consider"----

"Are both in the same handwriting?" inquired Titmouse, taking them into his tremulous hand; while Gammon observed that his countenance indicated the despair which had taken possession of him.

"That cursed curtain is so much in the light," said Titmouse, looking up; and going towards it, as if to draw it aside, he started suddenly away from Gammon, and with frenzied gestures tore the little papers to pieces with inconceivable rapidity, and flung them out of the window, where a brisk breeze instantly took them up, and scattered them abroad--the glistening fragments--never to be again reunited.

Having performed this astounding feat, he instantly turned round, and leaning his back against the window, gazed at Gammon with a desperate air of mingled apprehension and triumph, but spoke not a word. Nor did Gammon; but--oh the dreadful look with which he regarded Titmouse while slowly approaching towards him! who, stepping aside, as Gammon advanced, reached the cabinet, and with desperate rapidity threw open the door, and, as if the devil had been waiting his bidding, in a moment turned round upon Gammon with a pistol.

"So help me God, I'll fire!" gasped Titmouse, cocking and presenting it--"I will--I WILL--_One!_--_Two!_--For God's sake! be off!--It's loaded, and no mistake!--If I say _Th_--I'll fire, if I'm hanged for it!"

"Booby! You may put your pistol down, sir!" said Gammon, calmly and resolutely, a contemptuous smile passing over his whitened features.

"Demme!--distance!--Keep your distance!" cried Titmouse, his voice quivering with agitation.

"Ridiculous simpleton!--You poor rogue!" said Gammon, laughingly. There was, however, _murder_ in his smile; and Titmouse instinctively perceived it. He kept his deadly weapon pointed full at Gammon's breast, but his hand trembled violently. 'T was wonderful that some chance motion of the shaking finger of Titmouse, did not send a bullet through Mr. Gammon's heart.

He stood, for a minute or two, gazing steadfastly, and without moving, at Titmouse; and then, shrugging his shoulders, with a bitter smile returned to his chair, and resumed his seat. Titmouse, however, refused to follow his example.

"So help me God, sir! I will not hurt a hair of your head," said Gammon, earnestly. Still Titmouse remained at the window, pistol in hand. "Why should I hurt you? What have you _now_ to fear, you little idiot?" inquired Gammon, impatiently. "Do you, then, really think you have injured me? Do you positively think me so great a fool, my friend, as really to have trusted you with the precious originals, of which those were only the copies?--Copies which I can replace in a minute or two's time! The originals, believe me, are far away, and safe enough under lock and key!"

"I--I--I don't believe you," gasped Titmouse, dropping the hand that held the pistol, and speaking in a truly dismal tone.

"That does not signify, my excellent little rogue," said Gammon, with an infernal smile, "if the _fact_ be so. That you are a fool, you must by this time even yourself begin to suspect; and you surely _can't_ doubt that you are something like an arrant villain after what has just taken place? Eh? 'T was a bright idea truly--well conceived and boldly executed. I give you all the credit for it; and it is only your misfortune that it was not successful. So let us now return to business. Uncock your pistol--replace it in your cabinet, and resume your seat; or in one minute's time I leave you, and go direct to Lord Dreddlington; and if so, you had better use that pistol in blowing out your _own_ brains--if you have any."

Titmouse, after a moment or two's pause of irresolution, passively obeyed--very nearly on the point of crying aloud with disappointment and impotent rage; and he and Gammon were presently again sitting opposite to one another.

Gammon was cold and collected--yet must it not have cost him a prodigious effort? Though he had told Titmouse that they were _copies_ only which he had destroyed, they were, nevertheless, the ORIGINALS, which, with such an incredible indiscretion, he had trusted into the hands of Titmouse; they were the ORIGINALS which Titmouse had just scattered to the winds; and who, in so doing, had suddenly--but unknowingly--broken to pieces the wand of the enchanter who had long exercised over him so mysterious and despotic an authority!--How comes it, that we not unfrequently find men of the profoundest craft, just at the very crisis of their fortunes, thus unexpectedly, irretrievably, and incredibly committing themselves? In the present instance, the only satisfactory way of accounting for Mr. Gammon's indiscretion, would seem to be by referring it to a sense of security engendered by his utter contempt for Titmouse.

"Are you _now_ satisfied, Mr. Titmouse, that you are completely at my mercy, and at the same time totally undeserving of it?" said Gammon, speaking in a low and earnest tone, and with much of his former kindness of manner. To an observant eye, however, what was at that moment the real expression in that of Gammon? Soothing and gentle as was his voice, he felt as if he could instantly have destroyed the audacious little miscreant before him. But he proceeded with wonderful self-command--"Do not, my dear Titmouse, madly make me your enemy--your enemy for life--but rather your friend--your watchful and powerful friend and protector, whose every interest is identified with your own. Remember all that I have done and sacrificed for you--how I have racked my brain for you day and night--always relying upon your ultimate gratitude. Oh, the endless scheming I have had to practise, to conceal your fatal secret--and of which you shall ere long know more! During these last two years have I not ruinously neglected my own interests, to look after yours?"

Gammon paused, and abruptly added--"I have but to lift my finger, and this splendid dressing-gown of yours, my poor Titmouse, is exchanged for a prison-jacket"----

"Oh Lord! oh Lord! oh Lord!" suddenly exclaimed Titmouse, with a shudder--"I wish I were dead and forgotten! oh Lord! what shall I do? 'Pon my _soul_"--he struck his forehead with some violence--"I'm going mad"----

"Consider, Mr. Titmouse, calmly, how reasonable and moderate is my offer"--proceeded Gammon; who now and then, however, experienced changes of color, on the sudden recurrence of a sense of his last misfortune.

"Here's Lady Cicely to have £3,000 a-year," passionately interposed Titmouse.

"Not till after your death, my dear sir"----

"Then she shall have it directly; for curse me if I don't kill myself!"----

"Then she would never have a farthing--for I should instantly produce the real heir"----

"Yah!" exclaimed Titmouse, uttering a sound like the sharp, furious bark of a cur, foiled at all points. He threw himself on the sofa, and folded his arms on his breast, compressing them, as it were, with convulsive vehemence.

"Do not excite yourself, Mr. Titmouse--you are still one of the most fortunate men upon earth, to have fallen into hands like mine, I can assure you! You will still enjoy a truly splendid income--little short of nine thousand a-year--for I will undertake to raise the Yatton rental, within a few short months, to twelve or thirteen thousand a-year, as I have often told you--I have explained to you over and over again, how absurdly under their value they were let in the time of"----

"And you've perhaps forgotten that I've borrowed nearly fifty thousand pounds--that costs nothing, I suppose!"

"Well, certainly, you must be a little careful for a year or two, that's all"----

"Demme, sir!--I must give up my _yacht_!" exclaimed Titmouse, desperately, snapping his thumb and finger vehemently at Gammon.

"Yes--or Yatton," replied Gammon, sternly. "After all--what more shall I be than a sort of steward of yours?"

"I don't want one," interrupted Titmouse; and, starting from the sofa, walked to the window, where he stood with his back turned towards Gammon, and crying! Gammon eyed him for several minutes in silence; and then slowly approaching him, tapped him briskly on the shoulder. Titmouse started. "Come, sir--you have now, I hope, relieved your small feelings, and must attend to me--and be prompt, too, sir! The time for trifling, and playing the baby, or the girl, is gone. Hark you, sir!--yield me my terms, or this very day I spring a mine under your feet, you little villain! that shall blow you into ten thousand atoms, and scatter them wider than ever you scattered just now those bits of worthless paper! Do you hear that?" As he said this, he took hold of the collar of Titmouse's dressing-gown, which Titmouse felt to be grasped by a hand, tightening momentarily. Titmouse made no reply; but gazed at Gammon with a countenance full of distress and terror.

"Pause," continued Gammon, in a low vehement tone and manner, "and you are lost--stripped of this gaudy dress--turned out of this splendid house into the streets, or a prison!--If I quit this room--and I will not wait much longer--without your plain and written consent to my terms, I shall go direct to my Lord Dreddlington, and tell him the obscure and base-born impostor that has crept"----

"Oh, Mr. Gammon--Mr. Gammon! have mercy on me!" exclaimed Titmouse, shaking like an aspen-leaf--at length realizing the terrible extent of danger impending over him.

"Have mercy on yourself!" rejoined Gammon, sternly.

"I will!--I'll do all you ask--I will, so help me----!"

"I'm glad to hear it!" said Gammon, relaxing his hold of Titmouse; and, in a voice of returning kindness, adding--"Oh, Titmouse, Titmouse! how fearful would be the scene--when your noble father-in-law--alas! you must have quitted the country! His Lordship would have instantly divorced you from the Lady Cecilia!"

"You can't think how I love Lady Cicely!" exclaimed Titmouse, in a broken voice.

"Ay--but would she love _you_, if she knew who and what you were?"

"Oh Lord! oh Lord! I love Lady Cicely! I love Lady Cicely!"

"Then get pen, ink, and paper, if you would not lose her forever!"

"Here they are, Mr. Gammon!" exclaimed Titmouse, hastily stepping to his desk which lay on the table; and with tremulous eagerness he got out a quire of writing-paper and took a pen. "Suppose _you_ write, Mr. Gammon," said he, suddenly--"my hand trembles so! Lord! I feel so sick, I'll sign anything you like!"

"Perhaps it would be better," replied Gammon, sitting down, and dipping his pen into the inkstand; "it may save time." He commenced writing; and, as he went on, said at intervals--"Yes, Titmouse! Thank God, all is now over! It shall no longer be in Lord Dreddlington's power--no, nor any one's--to beggar you--to transport you--to take your noble wife from you"----

"Oh, no, no! You know Lady Cicely's taken me for better for worse, for richer for poorer!" interrupted Titmouse, in a sort of agony of apprehension.

"Ah, Titmouse! But she did not know, when she said that, that she was speaking to a"----

"What! wouldn't it have held good?" exclaimed Titmouse, perfectly aghast.

"We need not speculate on a case that cannot arise, my dear Titmouse," replied Gammon, eying him steadfastly, and then resuming his writing.--"This paper becomes, as they say at sea, your sheet-anchor!--Here you shall remain--the owner of Yatton--of this splendid house--husband of Lady Cecilia--a member of Parliament--and in due time, as 'my Lord Drelincourt,' take your place permanently in the Upper House of Parliament, among the hereditary legislators of your country. Now, Mr. Titmouse, sign your name, and there's an end forever of all your unhappiness!"

Titmouse eagerly took the pen, and, with a very trembling hand affixed his signature to what Gammon had written.

"You'll sign it too, eh?" he inquired timidly.

"Certainly, my dear Titmouse."--Gammon affixed his signature, after a moment's consideration.--"Now we are both bound--we are friends for life! Let us shake hands, my dear, dear Titmouse, to bind the bargain!"

They did so, Gammon cordially taking into his hands those of Titmouse, who, in his anxiety and excitement, never once thought of asking Mr. Gammon to allow him to read over what had been just signed.

"Oh Lord!" he exclaimed, heaving a very deep sigh, "It seems as if we'd been only in a dream! I begin to feel _something like_ again!--it's really all right?"

"On my sacred word of honor," replied Gammon, laying his hand on his heart, "provided you perform the engagement into which you have this day entered."

"Never fear! honor bright!" said Titmouse, placing _his_ on his heart, with as solemn a look as he could assume.

Mr. Gammon, having folded up the paper, put it into his pocket-book.

"I was a trifle too deep for you, Titmouse, eh?" said he, good-humoredly. "How could you suppose me green enough to bring you the _real_ documents?" he added with perfect command of voice and feature.

"Where are they?" inquired Titmouse, timidly.

"At a banker's, in a double-iron strong box, with three different locks."

"Lord!--But, _in course_, you'll put them into the fire when I've performed my agreement, eh?"

Gammon looked at him for a moment, doubtful what answer to make to this unexpected question.

"My dear Titmouse," said he at length, "I will be candid--I must preserve them--but no human eye shall ever see them except my own."

"My stars!--Excuse me"--stammered Titmouse, uneasily.

"Never fear _my_ honor, Titmouse! Have you ever had reason to do so?"

"No--never! It's quite true! And why don't you trust _me_?"

"Have you forgotten!--_Did_ I not trust you--_as you supposed_"--quickly subjoined Gammon, positively on the point of again committing himself--"and when you fancied you really had in your power the precious original documents?"

"Oh! well"--said Titmouse, his face flushing all over--"but that's all past and gone."

"You _must_ rely on my honor--and I'll tell you why. What would be easier than for me to pretend to you that the papers which you might see me burn, were really the originals--and yet be no such thing?"

"In course--yes; I see!" replied Titmouse--who, however, had really not comprehended the case which Gammon had put to him. "Well--but--I say--excuse me, Mr. Gammon"--said Titmouse, hesitatingly returning, as Gammon imagined, to the charge--"but--you said something about the _real_ heir."

"Certainly. There _is_ such a person, I assure you!"

"Well--but since you and I, you know, have made it up, and are friends for life--eh? What's to be done with the fellow? (betwixt ourselves!)"

"That is at present no concern--nay, it never will be any concern of yours or mine. Surely it is enough for you, that you are enjoying the rank and fortune belonging to some one else? Good gracious! I can't help reminding you--fancy the natural son of a cobbler--figuring away as the Right Honorable Lord Drelincourt--while all the while, the real Lord Drelincourt is--nay, at this moment, pining, poor soul! in poverty and obscurity."

"Well--I dare say he's used to it, so it can't hurt him much! But I've been thinking, Mr. Gammon, couldn't we get him--pressed? or enlisted into the army?--He's a deuced deal better out of the way, you know, for both of us!"

"Sir!" interrupted Gammon, speaking very seriously, and even with a melancholy and apprehensive air--"leave the future to _me_. I have made all requisite arrangements, and am myself implicated already to a fearful extent on your behalf. The only person on earth, besides myself, who can disturb my arrangements, is yourself."

Here a gentle tapping was heard at the door.

"Be off!" shouted Titmouse, with angry impatience; but Mr. Gammon, who was anxious himself to be gone, stepped to the door, and opening it, a servant entered--a tall graceful footman, with powdered hair, shoulder-knot, and blue and yellow livery--and who obsequiously intimated to Mr. Titmouse, that Signor Sol-fa had been in attendance for at least half-an-hour.

"A--a--I don't sing to-day--let him come to-morrow," said Titmouse, with attempted ease, and the servant withdrew.

"Farewell, Mr. Titmouse--I have a most important engagement awaiting me at the office--so I must take my leave. Will you execute the necessary documents so soon as they are ready? I will cause them to be prepared immediately."

"Oh, yes!"--and he added in a lower tone--"take care, Mr. Gammon, that no one knows _why_!--eh, you know?"

"Leave that to _me_!--Good-morning, Mr. Titmouse," replied Gammon, buttoning his surtout, and taking up his gloves and hat; and having shaken Titmouse by the hand, he was the next moment in the street--where he heaved a prodigious sigh--which, however, only momentarily relieved his pent-up bosom from the long-suppressed rage, the mortification, the wounded pride, and the wild apprehension with which it was nearly bursting. Why, what a sudden and dismaying disaster had befallen him! And what but his own inconceivable folly had occasioned it? His own puppet had beaten him; had laid him prostrate; 't was as though Prospero had permitted Caliban to wheedle him out of his wand!--What could Gammon possibly have been thinking about, when he trusted the originals into the hands of Titmouse? As Gammon recognized no overruling Providence, he was completely at a loss to account for an act of such surpassing thoughtlessness and weakness as he had committed--at the mere recollection of which, as he walked along he ground his teeth together with the vehemence of his emotions. After a while, he reflected that regrets were idle--the future, not the past, was to be considered; and how he had to deal with the new state of things which had so suddenly been brought about. All he had thenceforth to trust to, was his mastery over the fears of a fool. But was he _really_, on consideration, in a worse position than before? Had Titmouse turned restive at any time while Gammon possessed the documents in question, could Gammon have had more effectual control over him than he still had, while he had succeeded in persuading Titmouse that such documents were still in existence? Could the legality of the transaction which Gammon sought to effect, be upheld one whit the more in the one case than in the other, if Titmouse took it into his head resolutely to resist? Again, could a transaction of such magnitude, could so serious a diminution of Titmouse's income, remain long concealed from his father-in-law, Lord Dreddlington, who, Gammon knew, was every now and then indicating much anxiety on the subject of his son-in-law's finances? Was it possible to suppose the earl disposed to acquiesce, in any event, in such an arrangement? Suppose again Titmouse, in some moment of caprice, or under the influence of wine, should disclose to the earl the charge on the estate given to Gammon; and that, either sinking, or revealing, the true ground on which Gammon rested a claim of such magnitude? Gracious Heavens! thought Gammon--fancy the earl really made acquainted with the true state of the case! What effect would so terrible a disclosure produce upon him?

Here a bold stroke occurred to Mr. Gammon: what if he were himself, as it were, to take the bull by the horns--to be beforehand with Titmouse, and apprise the earl of the frightful calamity which had befallen him and his daughter? Gammon's whole frame vibrated with the bare imagining of the scene which would probably ensue. But what would be the practical use to be made of it? The first shock over, if, indeed, the old man survived it--would not the possession of such a secret give Gammon a complete hold upon the earl, and render him, in effect, obedient to his wishes?