"_Would have!_ oh my stars!"----

"Yes, my dear Mr. t.i.tmouse, we _would_ have done it, and believed we could have brought you through every difficulty--over every obstacle, prodigious though they are, and almost innumerable."

"Why--you--don't--hardly--quite--mean to say you've given it all up?--What, already! 'Pon my life! Oh Lord!" exclaimed t.i.tmouse, in evident trepidation.

Mr. Gammon had triumphed over Mr. t.i.tmouse! whom, nothing loath, he brought back, in two minutes' time, into the room which t.i.tmouse had just before so insolently quitted. Mr. Quirk and Mr. Snap had now _their_ parts to perform in the little scene which they had determined on enacting. They were in the act of locking up desks and drawers, evidently on the move, and received Mr. t.i.tmouse with an air of cold surprise.

"Mr. t.i.tmouse again!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, taking his gloves out of his hat. "Back again!--This, sir, is quite an unexpected honor!"

"Leave anything behind?" inquired Mr. Snap, affecting to look about him--"don't _see_ anything"----

"Oh no, sir! No, sir!" exclaimed t.i.tmouse, with eager anxiety. "This gent, Mr. Gammon, and I, have made it all up, gents! I'm not angry any more--not the least, 'pon my soul I'm not--and quite forgive you--and no mistake!"

"_Angry!_--_Forgive!!_ Mr. t.i.tmouse!" echoed Mr. Quirk, with an air sternly ironical. "We are under great obligations to you for your forbearance!"

"Oh, come, gents!" said t.i.tmouse, more and more disturbed, "I _was_ too warm, I dare say, and--and--I ask your pardon, all of you, gents! I won't say another word if you'll but buckle to business again--quite exactly in your own way--because you see"----

"It's growing _very_ late," said Mr. Quirk, coldly, and looking at his watch; "however, after what you have said, probably at some future time, when we've _leisure_ to look into the thing"----

Poor t.i.tmouse was near dropping on his knees, in mingled agony and fright.

"May I be allowed to say," interposed the bland voice of Mr. Gammon, anxiously addressing himself to Mr. Quirk, "that Mr. t.i.tmouse a few minutes ago a.s.sured me, outside there, that if you, as the head of the firm, could only be persuaded to permit our house to take up his case again"----

"I did--I did indeed, gents! so help me----!" interrupted Mr. t.i.tmouse, eagerly backing with an oath the ready lie of Mr. Gammon.

Mr. Quirk, with a stern countenance, drew his hand across his chin musingly, and stood silently for a few moments, apparently irresolute.

"Well," said he at length, but very coldly, "since that is so, probably we may be induced to resume our heavy labors in your behalf; and if you will favor us with a call to-morrow night, at the same hour, we may have, by that time, made up our minds as to the course we shall think fit to adopt."

"Lord, sir, I'll be here as the clock strikes, and as meek as a mouse; and pray, have it all your own way for the future, gents--do!"--cried t.i.tmouse, clasping his hands together on his breast.

"Good-night, sir--good-night!" exclaimed the partners, stiffly--motioning him towards the door.

"Good-night, gents!" said t.i.tmouse, bowing very low, and feeling himself at the same time being--bowed _out_! As he pa.s.sed out of the room, he cast a lingering look at their three frigid faces, as if they were angels sternly shutting him out from Paradise. What misery was his, as he walked slowly homeward, with much the same feelings (now that the fumes of the brandy had somewhat evaporated, and the reaction of excitement was coming on, aggravated by a recollection of the desperate check he had received) as those of a sick and troubled man, who, suddenly roused out of a delicious dream, drops into wretched reality, as it were out of a fairyland, which, with all its dear innumerable delights, is melting overhead into thin air--disappearing, _forever_!

Closet Court had never looked so odious to him as it did on his return from this memorable interview. Dreadfully distressed and hara.s.sed, he flung himself on his bed for a moment, directly he had shut his door, intending presently to rise and undress; but Sleep, having got him prostrate, secured her victory. She waved her black wand over him, and--he awoke not completely till about eight o'clock in the morning. A second long-drawn sigh was preparing to follow its predecessor, when he heard the clock strike eight, and sprang off the bed in a fright; for he ought to have been at the shop an hour before. Dashing a little water into his face, and scarce staying to wipe it off, he ran down-stairs, through the court, and along the street, never stopping till he had found his way into--almost the very arms of the dreaded Mr. Tag-rag; who, rarely making his appearance till about half-past nine, had, as the deuce would have it, happened to come down an hour and a half earlier than usual on that particular morning, the only one out of several hundreds on which t.i.tmouse had been more than ten minutes beyond his time.

"Yours ve-ry respectfully, Mr. t.i.tmouse--Thomas Tag-rag!" exclaimed that personage, with mock solemnity, bowing formally to his astounded and breathless shopman.

"I--I--beg your pardon, sir; but I wasn't very well, and overslept myself," stammered t.i.tmouse.

"Ne-ver mind, Mr. t.i.tmouse! ne-ver mind!--it don't much signify, as it happens," interrupted Mr. Tag-rag, bitterly; "you've just got an hour and a half to take this piece of silk, with my compliments, to Messrs.

Shuttle and Weaver, in Dirt Street, Spitalfields, and ask them if they aren't ashamed to send it to a West-end house like mine; and bring back a better piece instead of it! D' ye _hear_, sir?"

"Yes, sir--but--am I to go before my breakfast, sir?"

"Did I say a word about breakfast, sir? You heard my orders, sir; you can attend to them or not, Mr. t.i.tmouse, as you please!"

Off trotted t.i.tmouse _instanter_, without his breakfast; and so Tag-rag gained one object he had had in view. t.i.tmouse found this rather trying: a four-mile walk before him, with no inconsiderable load under his arm; having, moreover, had nothing to eat since the preceding evening, when he had partaken of a delicate repast of thick slices of bread, smeared slightly over with somewhat high-flavored salt b.u.t.ter, and moistened with a most astringent decoction of _quasi_ tea-leaves sweetened with brown sugar, and discolored with sky-blue milk. He had not even a farthing about him wherewith to buy a penny roll! As he went disconsolately along, so many doubts and fears buzzed impetuously about him, that they completely darkened his little soul, and bewildered his petty understanding. _Ten Thousand a-Year!_--it could never be meant for the like of _him_! He soon worked himself into a conviction that the whole thing was infinitely too good to be true; the affair was desperate; it had been all moonshine; for some cunning purpose or another, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, had been--ah, here he was within a few yards of their residence, the scene of last night's tragic transactions! As he pa.s.sed Saffron Hill, he paused, looked up towards the blessed abode,

"Where centred all his hopes and fears,"--

uttered a profound sigh, and pa.s.sed slowly on towards Smithfield. The words "_Quirk, Gammon, and Snap_," seemed to be written over every shop-window which he pa.s.sed--their images filled his mind's eye. What could they be at? They had been all very polite and friendly at first--and of their own seeking: but he had affronted them. How coldly and proudly they had parted with him over-night, although they had professed themselves reconciled to him! It was evident that they would stand no nonsense--they were great lawyers; so he must (if they really would allow him to see them again) eat humble pie cheerfully till he had got all that they had to give him. How he dreaded the coming night!

Perhaps they intended civilly to tell him that, since seeing him, they would have nothing more to do with him; they would get the estate for themselves, or some one else who would be more manageable! They had taken care to tell him nothing at all about the nature of his pretensions to this grand fortune. Oh, how crafty they were--they had it all their own way!--But what, after all, had he really done? The estates were his, if they were really in earnest--his and no one's else; and why should he be kept out of them at their will and pleasure?

Suppose he were to say he would give them all he was ent.i.tled to for 20,000 down, in cash? Oh no; on second thoughts, that would be only two years' income! But on the other hand--he dared hardly even propose it to his thoughts--still, suppose it _should_ really all turn out true!

Goodness gracious!--that day two months he might be riding about in his carriage in the Parks, and poor devils looking on at _him_, as he now looked on all those who now rode there. There he would be, holding up his head with the best of them, instead of slaving as he was that moment, carrying about that cursed bundle--ough! how he shrunk with disgust as he changed its position, to relieve his aching right arm! Why was his mouth to be stopped--why might he not tell his shopmates? What would he not give for the luxury of telling it to the odious Tag-rag? If he _were_ to do so, Mr. Tag-rag, he was sure, would ask him to dinner the very next Sunday, at his country house at Clapham!--Ah, ha!--Thoughts such as these so occupied his mind, that he did not for a long while observe that he was walking at a rapid rate towards the Mile-end road, having left Whitechapel church nearly half a mile behind him! The possible master of 10,000 a-year was nearly dropping with fatigue, and sudden apprehension of the storm he should have to encounter when he first saw Mr. Tag-rag after so unduly prolonged an absence on his errand. He was detained for a cruel length of time at Messrs. Shuttle and Weaver's; who, not having the exact kind of silk required by their imperious customer at that moment on their premises, had some difficulty in obtaining it, after having sent for it to one or two neighboring manufactories; by which means it came to pa.s.s that it was two o'clock before t.i.tmouse, completely exhausted, had returned to Tag-rag and Company's. The gentlemen of the shop had finished their dinners.

"Go up-stairs and get your dinner, sir!" exclaimed Tag-rag, sternly, after having received Messrs. Shuttle and Weaver's obsequious message of apologies and hopes.

t.i.tmouse having laid down his heavy bundle on the counter, went up-stairs hungry enough, and found himself the sole occupant of the long close-smelling room in which his companions had been recently dining.

His dinner was presently brought to him by a slatternly slipshod servant-girl. It was in an uncovered basin, which appeared to contain nothing but the leavings of his companions--a savory intermixture of cold potatoes, broken meat, (chiefly bits of fat and gristle,) a little hot water having been thrown over it to make it appear warm and fresh--(faugh!) His plate (with a small pinch of salt upon it) had not been cleaned after its recent use, but evidently only hastily smeared over with a greasy towel, as also seemed his knife and fork, which, in their disgusting state, he was fain to put up with--the table-cloth on which he might have wiped them, having been removed. A hunch of bread that seemed to have been tossing about in the pan for days, and half a pint of turbid table-beer, completed the fare set before him; opposite which he sat for some minutes, too much occupied with his reflections to commence his repast. He was in the act of scooping out of the basin some of its inviting contents, when--"t.i.tmouse!" exclaimed the voice of one of his shopmates, peering in at him through the half-opened door, "Mr.

Tag-rag wants you! He says you've had plenty of time to finish your dinner!"

"Oh, tell him, then, I'm only just beginning my dinner--eugh! such as it is," replied t.i.tmouse, sulkily.

In a few minutes' time Mr. Tag-rag himself entered the room, stuttering with fury--"How much longer, sir, may it be your pleasure to spend over your dinner, eh?"

"Not another moment, sir," answered t.i.tmouse, looking with unaffected loathing and disgust at the savory victuals before him; "if you'll only allow me a few minutes to go home and buy a penny roll instead of all this"----

"Ve--ry good, sir! Ve--ry parti--cu--larly good, Mr. t.i.tmouse," replied Tag-rag, with ill-subdued rage; "anything else that I can make a _leetle_ memorandum of--against the day of--your leaving us?"

This hint of twofold terror, _i. e._ of withholding on the ground of misconduct the wretched balance of salary which might be then due to him, and of also giving him a d.a.m.ning character--dispelled the small remains of t.i.tmouse's appet.i.te, and he rose to return to the shop, involuntarily clutching his fist as he brushed close past the tyrant Tag-rag on the stairs, whom he would have been delighted to pitch down head-foremost. If he _had_ done so, none of his fellow-slaves below, in spite of their present sycophancy towards Tag-rag, would have shown any particular alacrity in picking up their common oppressor. Poor t.i.ttlebat resumed his old situation behind the counter; but how different his present, from his former air and manner! With his pen occasionally peeping pertly out of his bushy hair over his right ear, and his yard-measure in his hand, no one, till the previous Monday morning, had been more cheerful, smirking, and nimble than t.i.ttlebat t.i.tmouse: alas, how chopfallen now! None of his companions could make him out, or guess what was in the wind; so they very justly concluded that he had been doing something dreadfully disgraceful, the extent of which was known to Tag-rag and himself alone. Their jeers and banter were giving place to cold distrustful looks, which were far more trying to bear. How he longed to be able to burst upon their astounded minds with the pent-up intelligence that was silently racking and splitting his little bosom!

But if he did--the terrible firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap--Oh! the very thought of them glued his lips together. There was _one_, however, of whom he might surely make a confidant--the excellent Huckaback, with whom he had had no opportunity of communicating since Sunday night. That gentleman was as close a prisoner at the establishment of DIAPER and Sa.r.s.eNET, in Tottenham-court Road, as t.i.tmouse at Messrs. Tag-rag's, of which said establishment he was, by the way, quite as great an ornament as t.i.tmouse of Messrs. Tag-rag's. They were of about the same height, and equals in vulgar puppyism of manners, dress, and appearance; but t.i.tmouse was certainly the better-looking. With equal conceit apparent in their faces, that of Huckaback, square, flat, and sallow, had an expression of ineffable impudence, made a lady shudder, and a gentleman feel a tingling sensation in his right toe. About his small black eyes there was a glimmer of low cunning;--but he is not of sufficient importance to be painted any further. When t.i.tmouse left the shop that night, a little after nine, he hurried to his lodgings, to make himself as imposing in his appearance before Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, as his time and means would admit of. Behold, on a table lay a letter from Huckaback. It was written in a flourishing mercantile hand; and here is a _verbatim_ copy of it:

"DEAR t.i.t,

"Hope you are well, which is what I can only middling say in respect of me. Such a row with my governors as I have had to-day! I thought that as I had been in the House near upon Eighteen Months at 25 per annum, I might nat'rally ask for 30 a-year (which is what my Predecessor had) when, would you believe it, Mr. Sharpeye (who is going to be taken in as a Partner,) to whom I named the thing, ris up in rage against me, and I were had up into the counting-house, where both the governors was, and they gave it me in such a way that you never saw nor heard of; but it wasn't all on their own side, as you know me too well to think of. You would have thought I had been a-going to rob the house. They said I was most oudacious, and all that, and ungrateful, and what would I have next? Mr. Diaper said times was come to such a pitch!! since when he was first in the business, for salaries, says he, is ris to double, and not half the work done that was, and no grat.i.tude--(cursed old curmudgeon!) He said if I left them just now, I might whistle for a character, except one that I should not like; but if he don't mind I'll give him a touch of law about that--which brings me to what happened to-day with _our_ lawyers, t.i.tty, the people at Saffron Hill, whom I thought I would call in on to-day, being near the neighborhood with some light goods, to see how affairs was getting on, and stir them up a bit"--

This almost took t.i.tmouse's breath away----

--"feeling most _interested_ on your account, as you know, dear t.i.t, I do. I said I wanted to speak to one of the gentlemen on business of wital importance; whereat I was quickly shown into a room where two gents was sitting. Having put down my parcel for a minute on the table, I said I was a very partic'lar friend of yours, and had called in to see how things went on about the advertis.e.m.e.nt; whereat you never saw in your life how struck they looked, and stared at one another in speechless silence, till they said to me, what concerned me about the business? or something of that nature, but in such a way that _ris_ a _rage_ in me directly, all for your sake, (for I did not like the looks of things;) and says I, I said, we would let them know we were not to be _gammoned_; whereat up rose the youngest of the two, and ringing the bell, he says to a tight-laced young gentleman with a pen behind his ear, 'Show this fellow to the door,' which I was at once; but, in doing so, let out a little of my mind to them.

They're no better than they should be, you see if they are; but when we touch the property, we'll show them who is their masters, which consoles me. Good-by, keep your sperrits up, and I will call and tell you more about it on Sunday. So farewell (I write this at Mr. Sharpeye's desk, who is coming down from dinner directly, the beast!)--Your true friend, "R. HUCKABACK.

"P. S.--Met a young Jew last night with a lot of prime cigars, and (knowing he _must_ have stole them--betwixt you, and I, and the Post--they looked so good at the price,) I bought one shilling's worth for me, and two shillings' worth for you, your salary being higher, and to say nothing of your chances."

All that part of the foregoing letter which related to its gifted writer's interview with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, t.i.tmouse read in a kind of spasm--he could not draw a breath, and felt a choking sensation coming over him. After a while, "I may spare myself," thought he, "the trouble of rigging out--Huckaback has done my business for me with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap!--Mine will only be a walk in vain!" And this cursed call of Huckaback's, too, to have happened after what had occurred last night between t.i.tmouse and them!! and so urgently as he had been enjoined to keep the matter to himself! Of course, Huckaback would seem to have been sent by him; seeing he appeared to have a.s.sumed the hectoring tone which t.i.tmouse had tried so vainly over-night, and now so bitterly repented of; and he had no doubt grossly insulted the arbiters of t.i.tmouse's destiny, (for he knew Huckaback's impudence)--he had even said that he (t.i.tmouse) would not be GAMMONED by them! But time was pressing--the experiment must be made; and with a beating heart he scrambled into a change of clothes--bottling up his wrath against the unconscious Huckaback till he should see that worthy.

In a miserable state of mind he set off soon after for Saffron Hill at a quick pace, which soon became a trot, and often sharpened into a downright run. He saw, heard, and thought of nothing, as he hurried along Oxford Street and Holborn, but Quirk, Gammon, Snap, and Huckaback, and the reception which the last-mentioned gentleman might have secured for him--if, indeed, he was to be received at all. The magical words, _Ten Thousand a-year_, had not disappeared from the field of his troubled vision; but how faintly and dimly they shone!--like the Pleiades coldly glistening through intervening mists far off--oh! at what a stupendous, immeasurable, and hopeless distance! Imagine those stars gazed at by the anguished and despairing eyes of the bereaved lover, madly believing one of them to contain HER who has just departed from his arms, and from this world, and you may form a notion of the agonizing feelings--the absorbed contemplation of one dear, dazzling, but distant object, experienced on this occasion by Mr. t.i.tmouse. No, no; I don't mean seriously to pretend that so grand a thought as this _could_ be entertained by his little optics intellectual; you might as well suppose the tiny eye of a black beetle to be scanning the vague, fanciful, and mysterious figure and proportions of Orion, or a kangaroo to be perusing and pondering over the immortal _Principia_. I repeat, that I have no desire of the sort, and am determined not again foolishly to attempt fine writing, which I now perceive to be entirely out of my line. In language more befitting me and my subject, I may be allowed to say that there is no getting the contents of a quart into a pint pot; that t.i.tmouse's mind was a half-pint--and it was brim-full. All the while that I have been going on thus, however, t.i.tmouse was hurrying down Holborn at a rattling rate. When at length he had reached Saffron Hill, he was in a bath of perspiration. His face was quite red; he breathed hard; his heart beat violently; he had got a st.i.tch in his side; and he could not get his gloves on his hot and swollen hands. He stood for a moment with his hat off, wiping his reeking forehead, and endeavoring to recover himself a little, before entering the dreaded presence to which he had been hastening. He even fancied for a moment that his eyes gave out sparks of light. While thus pausing, St. Andrew's Church struck ten, half electrifying t.i.tmouse, who bolted up Saffron Hill, and was soon standing opposite the door. How the sight of it smote him, as it reminded him of the way in which, on the preceding night, he had bounced out of it! But that could not now be helped; so _ring_ went the bell; as softly, however, as he could; for he recollected that it was a very loud bell, and he did not wish to offend. He stood for some time, and n.o.body answered. He waited for nearly two minutes, and trembled, a.s.sailed by a thousand vague fears. He might not, however, have rung loudly enough--so--again, a little louder, did he venture to ring. Again he waited. There seemed something threatening in the great bra.s.s plate on the door, out of which "QUIRK, GAMMON, AND SNAP" appeared to look at him ominously. While he thought of it, by the way, there was something very serious and stern in all their faces--he wondered that he had not noticed it before. What a drunken beast he had been to go on in their presence as he had! thought he; then Huckaback's image flitted across his disturbed fancy. "Ah!" thought he, "that's the thing!--that's it, depend upon it: this door will never be opened to _me_ again--he's done for me!" He breathed faster, clinched his fist, and involuntarily raised it in a menacing way, when he heard himself addressed--"Oh! dear me, sir, I _hope_ I haven't kept you waiting," said the old woman whom he had before seen, fumbling in her pocket for the door-key. She had been evidently out shopping, having a plate in her left hand, over which her ap.r.o.n was partially thrown. "Hope you've not been ringing long, sir!"

"Oh dear! no ma'am," replied t.i.tmouse, with anxious civility, and a truly miserable smile--"Afraid I may have kept _them_ waiting," he added, almost dreading to hear the answer.

"Oh no, sir, not at all--they've all been gone since a little after nine; but there's a letter I was to give you!" She opened the door; t.i.tmouse nearly dropping with fright. "I'll get it for you, sir--let me see, where did I put it?--Oh, in the clerk's room, I think." t.i.tmouse followed her in. "Dear me--where can it be?" she continued, peering about, and then snuffing the long wick of the candle, which she had left burning for the last quarter of an hour, during her absence. "I _hope_ none of the clerks has put it away in mistake! Well, it isn't _here_, anyhow."

"Perhaps, ma'am, it's in their _own_ room," suggested t.i.tmouse, in a faint tone.

"Oh, p'r'aps it is!" she replied. "We'll go and see"--and she led the way, followed closely by t.i.tmouse, who caught his breath spasmodically as he pa.s.sed the green-baize door. Yes, there was the room--the scene of last night was transacted there, and came crowding over his recollection--there was the green-shaded candlestick--the table covered with papers--an arm-chair near it, in which, probably, Mr. Quirk had been sitting only an hour before to write the letter they were now in quest of, and which might be to forbid him their presence forever! How dreary and deserted the room looked, thought he as he peered about it in search of the dreaded letter!

"Oh, here it is!--well, I never!--who could have put it here, now? I'm sure I didn't. Let me see--it was, no doubt"--said the old woman, holding the letter in one hand and putting the other to her head.