—
"Yes—devilish good—rather long though; and too many of those cursedfiguresthat—by Jove—no one cares about!" replied Titmouse, languidly.
He had by this time turned himself towards Mr. Gammon,—his right arm and leg hanging carelessly over the further side of the sofa.
"Lady Cecilia is well, I hope?"
"Can't say—not seen her this week," drawled Titmouse. "I'll ring and ask if you wish," he added, with an affected smile.
"Ah, my dear Titmouse," quoth Gammon, blandly, and with a smile of delicious flattery, "I hope you don't give her Ladyship just cause forjealousy?—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 fromennui. 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—tillthis 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 bedevilishsecret—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.
"Itis!—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 whichIregard 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 toyou 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 forSnap—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 alittlepolitical 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 ifyoudon't know howprecioushard 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 holdingit 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 nextLord Drelincourt; and all this throughME." 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 arereallyno more entitled tobewhat 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 madeno 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'tjoking, Mr. Gammon, eh?" Again he attempted a sickly smile.
"God forbid, Mr. Titmouse!"
"Well—but," faltered Titmouse, "whya'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 thewhatand thewhyof 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 cannowprove, 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 myterms—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—butyou, sir, are aBASTARD," 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 abastard"—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—"Youthe owner of Yatton?Youthe 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 killhim, or he will killyou!"
"Two can play at that," whispered Titmouse, faintly—indeed almost inarticulately. There was nearly a minute's pause.
"No—butisit 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 itmyself—Lord! than—what d'ye say tothat, 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'syouhe'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 Lordshipsomeamends. I may save histitlefrom degradation. Lord Drelincourt"——
"O Lord!" ejaculated Titmouse, involuntarily, and almost unconsciously, staring stupidly at Gammon, who continued with a renewed sigh—"Yes, Ioughtto 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? Suchhorridnews!"
"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—"itcan'tbe true—it's all a dream! I—I a'n't—Ican'tbe a bas—— perhapsyou'reall 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 mygift; 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 Iam!" 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,Liarv.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—"butwillyou, if all this isn't a bottle of smoke, tell me how you canproveit all? Because, you know, it isn't onlysayingthe 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"——
"Itis, 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—IWILL—One!—Two!—For God's sake! be off!—It's loaded, and no mistake!—If I sayTh—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,murderin 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," saidGammon, earnestly. Still Titmouse remained at the window, pistol in hand. "Why should I hurt you? What have younowto 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 thefactbe so. That you are a fool, you must by this time even yourself begin to suspect; and you surelycan'tdoubt 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 yourownbrains—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 werecopiesonly which he had destroyed, they were, nevertheless, theORIGINALS, which, with such an incredible indiscretion, he had trusted into thehands of Titmouse; they were theORIGINALSwhich 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 younowsatisfied, 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 exchangedfor 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 mysoul"—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 myyacht!" 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 loveyou, 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. "Supposeyouwrite, 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 feelsomething likeagain!—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, placinghison 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 therealdocuments?" 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 fearmyhonor, Titmouse! Have you ever had reason to do so?"
"No—never! It's quite true! And why don't you trustme?"
"Have you forgotten!—DidI 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."
"Youmustrely 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 therealheir."
"Certainly. Thereissuch 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 tome. 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 knowswhy!—eh, you know?"
"Leave that tome!—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 mererecollection 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 hereally, 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 himand 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?
The object which Gammon had originally proposed to himself, and unwaveringly fixed his eye upon amid all the mazy tortuosities of his course, since taking up the cause of Tittlebat Titmouse, was his own permanent establishment in the upper sphere of society; conscious that, above all, could he but once emerge into political life, his energies would insure him speedy distinction. With an independent income of £2,000 a-year, he felt that he should be standing on sure ground. But even above and beyond this, there was one dazzling object of his hopes and wishes, which, unattained, would, on several accounts, render all others comparatively valueless—a union with Miss Aubrey. His heart fluttered within him at the bare notion of such an event. What effect would be produced upon that beautiful, that pure, high-minded, but haughty creature—for haughty tohimhad Kate Aubrey ever appeared—by a knowledge that he, Gammon, possessed the means—Bah! accursed Titmouse!—thought Gammon, his cheek suddenly blanching as he recollected that through himthose meansno longer existed.—Stay!—Unless, indeed—...—which would, however, be all but impossible—perilous in the extreme! Absorbed with these reflections, he started on being accosted by the footman of the Earl of Dreddlington; who, observing Gammon, had ordered his carriage to draw up, to enable his Lordship to speak to him. It was the end of Oxford Street nearest to the City.
"Sir—Mr. Gammon—good-day, sir!"—commenced the earl, with a slight appearance of disappointment, and even displeasure, "pray, has anything unfortunate happened"——
"Unfortunate! I beg your Lordship's pardon"——interrupted Gammon, coloring visibly, and gazing with surprise at the earl.
"You do notgenerally, Mr. Gammon, forget your appointments. The marquis, I, and the gentlemen of the Direction, have been waiting for you in vain at the office for a whole hour."
"Good Heavens! my Lord—I am confounded!" said Gammon, suddenly recollecting the engagement he had made with the earl: "I have forgotten everything in a sudden fit of indisposition, with which I have been seized at the house of a client at Bayswater. I can but apologize, my Lord"——
"Sir, say no more; your looks are more than sufficient; and I beg that you will do me the honor to accept a seat in my carriage, and tell me whither you will be driven. I'm at your service, Mr. Gammon, for at least an hour; longer than that I cannot say, as I have to be at the House; you remember our two bills have to be forwarded a stage"——
Since his Lordship was as peremptory as politeness would permit him to be, in got Gammon, and namedThe Gunpowder and Freshwater Company'sOffices, in Lothbury, in the hopes of finding yet some of the gentlemen whom he had so sadly disappointed; and thither, having turned his horses' heads, drove the coachman.
"Sir," said the earl, after much inquiry into the nature of Gammon's recent indisposition, "by the way, what can be the meaning of my Lord Tadpole's opposition to the second reading of our bill, No. 2?"
"We offered his Lordship no shares, my Lord—that is the secret. I sawhim a few days ago, and he sounded me upon the subject; but—I'm sure your Lordship will understand—in a company such as ours, my Lord"——
"Sir, I quite comprehend you, and I applaud your vigilant discrimination. Sir, in affairs of this description, in order tosecurethe confidence of the public, it is a matter of the last importance that none but men of the highest—by the way, Mr. Gammon, how are theGolden Eggshares? Would you advise me to sell"——
"Hold, my Lord, a little longer. We are going, in a few days' time, to publish some important information concerning the prospects of the undertaking, of the most brilliant character, and which cannot fail to raise the value of the shares, andthenwill be the time to sell! Has your Lordship signed the deed yet?"
"Sir, I signed it last Saturday, in company with my Lord Marmalade. I should not like to part with my interest in the company, you see—Mr. Gammon—hastily; but I am in your hands"——
"My Lord, I am ever watchful of your Lordship's interests."
"By the way, will you dine with me to-morrow? We shall be quite alone, and I am very anxious to obtain an accurate account of the present state of Mr. Titmouse's property; for, to tell you the truth, I have heard of one or two little matters that occasion me some uneasiness."
"Can anything be more unfortunate, my Lord? I am engaged out to dinner for the next three days—if indeed I shall be well enough to go to any of them," said Gammon, with an agitation which could have escaped the observation of few persons except the Earl of Dreddlington.
"Sir—I exceedingly regret to hear it; let me trust that some day next week I shall be more fortunate. There are several matters on which I amdesirous of consulting you. When did you last see Mr. Titmouse?"
"Let me see, my Lord—I—don't think I've seen him since Monday last, when I casually met him in one of the committee-rooms of the House of Commons, where, by the way, he seems a pretty frequent attendant."
"I'm glad to hear it," replied the earl, somewhat gravely; and, as Gammon imagined, with a slight expression of surprise, or even distrust. Gammon therefore fancied that the earl had received recent intelligence of some of the wild pranks of his hopeful son-in-law, and wished to make inquiries concerning them of Gammon
"Will you, sir,—by the way—have the goodness to write at your earliest convenience to General Epaulette's solicitors, and tell them I wish to pay off immediately £12,000 of his mortgage? Oblige me, sir, by attending to this matter without delay; for I met the general the other day at dinner—and—I might possibly have been mistaken, sir—but I fancied he looked at me as if he wished me to feel myself his debtor. Do you understand me, sir? It annoyed me; and I wish to get out of his hands as soon as possible."
"Rely upon it, my Lord, it shall be attended to this very day," replied Gammon, scarcely able—troubled though he was—to suppress a smile at the increasing symptoms of purse-pride in the earl, whose long-empty coffers were being so rapidly and unexpectedly replenished by the various enterprises into which, under Gammon's auspices, his Lordship had entered with equal energy and sagacity. While the earl was speaking, the carriage drew up at the door of the company's office, and Gammon alighted. The earl, however, finding that all the gentlemen whom he had left there, had quitted, drove off westward, at a smart pace, and reached the House in time for the matters which he had mentioned to Mr.Gammon. That gentleman soon dropped the languid demeanor he had worn in Lord Dreddlington's presence, and addressed himself with energy and decision to a great number of important and difficult matters demanding his attention—principally connected with several of the public companies in which he was interested—and one of which, in particular, required the greatest possible care and tact, in order to prevent its bursting—prematurely. He had also to get through a considerable arrear of professional affairs, and to write several letters on the private business of Lord Dreddlington, and of Mr. Titmouse—respectively. Nay, he had one or two still more urgent calls upon his attention. First came the action against himself for £4,000 penalties, for bribery, arising out of the Yatton election, and as to which he had received, that afternoon, a very gloomy "opinion" from Mr. Lynx, who was "advising" him on his defence. Much in the same plight, also, were Messrs. Bloodsuck, Mudflint, and Woodlouse, for whom Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap were defending similar actions; and who were worried out of their lives by daily letters from their terror-stricken clients, as to the state, progress, and prospects of the several causes in which they were so deeply interested. All these actions were being pressed forward by the plaintiffs with a view to trial at the ensuing York assizes; had been made, by the plaintiffs, special juries; and, infinitely to Gammon's vexation and alarm, he had found, on hurrying to retain Mr. Subtle, that he, Mr. Sterling, and Mr. Crystal, had been already retained for the plaintiffs! Lastly, he was dreadfully teased by an action of seduction, which had, a few days before, been brought against Mr. Titmouse; and which Gammon, finding it to be a very bad case, was making great efforts to compromise. To each and every of these matters, he gave the attention that was due—and, about seven o'clock, havingfinished his labors for the day, repaired, a good deal exhausted, to his chambers at Thavies' Inn. After a slight repast, he proceeded to draw up confidential "instructions" for Mr. Frankpledge, to frame the deeds necessary to carry into effect his contemplated arrangement with Titmouse. That did not take him long; and having sealed up his packet, and addressed it, he threw himself down on the sofa, and gave himself up to anxious meditation, for he was aware that he was now, as it were, touching the very crisis of his fortunes. Again, again, and again he recurred to the incident of the day—the destruction of his documents by Titmouse; and cursed his own inconceivable stupidity, even aloud. Yet he could not avoid indulging at the same time in secret pride and exultation at the presence of mind which he had displayed—the successful skill with which he had encountered so sudden, singular, and serious an emergency. But what would be the effect of the destruction of those documents, uponcertain secret arrangementsof his connected with Titmouse's recovery of the Yatton property? This was a question which occasioned Gammon great perplexity and apprehension. Then, as to Gammon's rent-charge of £2,000 per annum on the Yatton estates—he bethought himself, with no little uneasiness, of some expressions concerning Titmouse's property, let fall by the earl that day: and if his Lordship should persevere in his determination to become minutely acquainted with the state of Titmouse's property, how could the new and heavy encumbrance about to be laid upon it, possibly escape discovery? and if it did, how was it to be accounted for, or supported? Confound it! It seemed as if fate were bent upon urging on a catastrophe!
"Shall I," thought Gammon, "wait till I am challenged on the subject, and then fire my shot, and bring his Lordship down from the tight-rope? Then, however, I cannot but appear to have known the thing from thevery beginning; and who knows what liabilities, civil or criminal—of fraud or conspiracy—may be attached to what I have done! Shall I wait for a convenient, though early opportunity, and rush, with dismay and confusion, into the earl's presence, as with a discovery only just made? By Heaven! but the thing wears already a very ugly appearance. If it come out, what an uproar will be in the world! The lightning will fall on my head first, unless I take care. The discovery will doubtless kill Lord Dreddlington; and as for his daughter, it may overturn the little reason she has!"
Passing from this subject, Gammon surveyed his other relations with the earl, which were becoming daily more involved and critical. He had seduced his Lordship into various mercantile speculations, such as had already placed him in a very questionable point of view, as taking deliberate, systematic advantage of the raging mania for bubble companies. In fact, Gammon had, by his skilful but not very scrupulous manœuvring, already put into Lord Dreddlington's pocket some forty thousand pounds, and at the same time involved his Lordship in liabilities which he never dreamed of, and even Gammon himself had not contemplated. Then he warmed with his apparent proximity to Parliament, (to that part of Titmouse's bargain Gammon resolved to hold him to the very letter,) which he was sure of entering on the very next election. By that time he would have realized a sum, through his connection with the various companies, which, even independently of the income to be derived thereafter from the Yatton property, would render him so far independent as to warrant him in dissolving partnership with Messrs. Quirk and Snap, and quitting at least thepracticeof the profession.
Mr. Gammon was a man of very powerful mind, possessing energies of thehighest order, and for the development and display of which he felt, and fretted when he felt, his present position in society afforded him no scope whatever, till at least he had entered upon that series of bold but well-conceived plans and purposes with which he has been represented as occupied, since the time when he first became the secret master of the fortunes of Titmouse. His ambition was boundless, and he felt within himself a capacity for the management of political affairs of no ordinary magnitude, could he but force himself into the regions where his energies and qualifications could be discovered and appreciated. Indeed, I will undertake to say, that, had Gammon only been aGOODman, he would, in all probability, have become a great one. But, to proceed with the matters which were then occupying his busy brain. There was yet one upon which all his thoughts settled with a sort of agitating interest—his connection with the Aubreys; and whenever that name occurred to his thoughts, one beauteous image rose before him like that of an angel—I mean Miss Aubrey. She was the first object that had ever excited in him any, the faintest, semblance of the passion oflove—that love, I mean, which is in a manner purified and sublimated from all grossness or sensuality by a due appreciation of intellectual and moral excellence. When he dwelt upon the character of Miss Aubrey, and for a moment realized the possibility of a union with her, he felt, as it were, elevated above himself. Then her person was very beautiful; and there was a certain bewitchingsomethingabout her manners, which Gammon could onlyfeel, not describe; in short, his passion for her had risen to a most extraordinary pitch of intensity, and became a sort of infatuation. In spite of all that had happened at Yatton, he had contrived to continue, and was at that moment, on terms of considerable intimacy with the Aubreys; and had, moreover, been all the while sowatchful over himself as to have given none of them any reason to suspect the state of his feelings towards Miss Aubrey; and, on the other hand, nothing had ever transpired to give him the slightest inkling of the state of matters between Miss Aubrey and Delamere—with the exception of one solitary circumstance which had at the moment excited his suspicions—Mr. Delamere's contesting the borough of Yatton. Though he had watched for it, however, nothing had afterwards occurred calculated to confirm his apprehensions. He had taken infinite pains to keep a good name in Vivian Street, with great art representing, from time to time, his disgust for the conduct and character of Titmouse, and the reluctance with which he discharged his professional duty towards that gentleman. He made a point of alluding to the "gross and malignant insult" which had been offered at the hustings to the venerable Vicar of Yatton, and which, he said, was a sudden suggestion of Mr. Titmouse's, and carried into effect by "that vile Unitarian parson, Mudflint," in defiance of Mr. Gammon's wishes to the contrary. He represented himself as still haunted by the mild, reproachful look with which Dr. Tatham had regarded him, as though he had been the author of the insult. The account which appeared in theTrue Blueof his indignant interference on the occasion of Mr. Delamere's being struck on the hustings, was calculated, as Mr. Gammon conceived, to corroborate his representations, and aid the impression he was so anxious to produce. For the same reason, Mr. Gammon, whenever he had been at Yatton, had acted with great caution and secrecy, so as to give no cause of offence to Dr. Tatham; to whom he from time to time complained, in confidence, of those very acts of Mr. Titmouse which had been dictated to him by Mr. Gammon. ThusreasonedMr. Gammon; but it would indeed have been singular had hesucceededas he desired and expected. He lost sight of the proverbial influence of one's wishes over one's belief. In imagining that he had concealed from the Aubreys all the unfavorable features of his conduct, was he not, in some degree, exhibiting the folly of the bird, which, thrusting itsheadonly into the bush, imagines that it has thereby concealed its whole body?
The Aubreys knew amply sufficient to warrant a general dislike and distrust of Mr. Gammon; but there existed grave reasons for avoiding any line of conduct which Gammon might choose to consider offensive. Mr. Aubrey justly regarded him as standing, at present, alone between him and some of his most serious liabilities. If Gammon, to accomplish objects to them undiscoverable, wore a mask—why challenge his enmity by attempting to tear off that mask? Mr. Aubrey governed his movements, therefore, with a prudent caution; and though, after the election, and the infamous decision of the election committee, Gammon was received at Vivian Street—whither he went with no little anxiety and trepidation—it was with a visibly increased coolness and reserve, but still with studiouscourtesy; and beyond that distinct but delicate line, none of them ever advanced a hair's-breadth, which Gammon observed with frequent and heavy misgivings. But he felt that something must at length bedone, or attempted, to carry into effect his fond wishes with reference to Miss Aubrey. Months had elapsed, and their relative position seemed totally unchanged since the first evening that his manœuvre had procured him a brief introduction to Mrs. Aubrey's drawing-room. In fact, he considered that the time had arrived for making known, in some way or another, the state of his feelings to Miss Aubrey; and after long deliberation, he resolved to do so without loss of time, and, moreover, personally. He had a fearful suspicion that heshould be—at all events at first—unsuccessful; and now that, having taken his determination, he passed in rapid review all their intercourse, he perceived less and less ground for being sanguine; for he felt that Miss Aubrey's manner towards him had been throughout more cold and guarded than that of either Mr. or Mrs. Aubrey. Like a prudent general contemplating the contingencies of an important expedition, and calculating his means of encountering them, Gammon considered—persuasionfailing—what means ofcompulsionhad he? He came, at length, finally to the conclusion, that his resources were most available at that moment; and, moreover, that his circumstancesrequiredan immediate move.
The very next day, about ten o'clock, he sallied forth from his chambers, and bent his steps towards Vivian Street, intending to keep watch for at least a couple of hours, with a view to ascertaining whether Mrs. Aubrey's going out unaccompanied by Miss Aubrey would afford him an opportunity of seeing Miss Aubrey, alone and undisturbed; reasonably reckoning on the absence of Mr. Aubrey at the Temple, whither he knew he always went about half-past nine o'clock. That day, however, Mr. Gammon watched in vain; during the time that he stayed, only the servants and the children quitted the door. The next day he walked deliberately close past the house; was that brilliant and tasteful performance of the piano,hers? Again, however, he was unsuccessful. On the third day, from a safe distance, he beheld both Mrs. and Miss Aubrey, accompanied by a female servant and the children, quit the house, and walk in the direction of the Park, whither—but at a great distance—he followed their movements with a beating heart. On a subsequent occasion, he saw Miss Aubrey leave the house, accompanied only by little Charles, and he instantly turned his steps despondingly eastward. How little did either of those fair beings dream of thestrict watch thus kept upon their every movement! Two days afterwards, however, Gammon's perseverance was rewarded; for shortly after eleven o'clock, he beheld Mrs. Aubrey, accompanied by the two children, quit the house, and turn towards the Park. Gammon's heart began to beat hard. Though he never cared much for dress, his appearance on the present occasion afforded indications of some littleattentionto it; and he appeared simply a well-dressed gentleman, in a dark-blue buttoned surtout, with velvet collar, and plain black stock, as, after a moment's somewhat flurried pause, he knocked and rang at Mr. Aubrey's door.
"Is Mr. Aubrey within?" he inquired of the very pretty and respectable-looking maid-servant, who presently answered his summons.
"No, sir; he is never here after"——
"PerhapsMrs.Aubrey"——
"No, sir; there is only Miss Aubrey at home; my mistress and the children are gone out into the Park, and Miss Aubrey is writing letters, or she would have gone with my mistress."
"Perhaps—I could see Miss Aubrey for a moment?" inquired Gammon, with as matter-of-fact an air as he could assume.
"Certainly, sir—she is in the drawing-room. Will you walk up-stairs?" said the girl, who of course knew him well, as not an infrequent visitor at the house. So she led the way up-stairs, he following, and with somewhat fading color.
"Mr. Gammon!" he presently heard, as he stood on the landing, echoed in the rich and soft voice of Miss Aubrey, who seemed to speak in a tone of great surprise, in answer to the servant's announcement. "Why, Fanny, did you not say that neither your master nor mistress was at home?"Gammon next heard hastily asked in a lower tone by Miss Aubrey, and his countenance fell a little; for there was a tone of displeasure, or chagrin, in her voice, especially as she added, "You should have said that I wasengaged! However, show him in, Fanny;" and the next moment Mr. Gammon found himself bowing his way towards Miss Aubrey, with whom, for the first time in his life, he found himself alone.
She was sitting writing at her desk, before which stood, in a small flower-glass, a beautiful moss-rose. There was a little air of negligence in the arrangement of her hair, and her light morning costume displayed her figure to infinite advantage. There was really something inexpressibly lovely in her whole appearance, seen, though she was, at that moment, by Gammon, through the faint mist of displeasure which she had thrown around herself.
"Good-morning, Mr. Gammon," she commenced, rising a little from her chair; and sinking again into it, slightly turned it towards him, gazing at him with some curiosity.
"May I venture to hope, madam, that I am not intruding upon you?" said he, seating himself in the chair nearest to him.
"My brother always leaves at half-past nine; is he not at the Temple to-day, Mr. Gammon?" she added a little eagerly—for the first time observing something unusual in the expression of his countenance.
"I really don't know—madam,—in fact, I have not been there to-day; I thought it better, perhaps"——He paused for a second.
"I sincerely trust, Mr. Gammon," interrupted Miss Aubrey, slightly changing color, and looking with great anxiety at her visitor—"that nothing unpleasant—nothing unfortunate—has happened: do, pray, Mr. Gammon!" she continued earnestly, turning her chair full towardshim—"for Heaven's sake, tell me!"
"I assure you, madam, upon my honor, that nothing whatever unpleasant has happened, that I know of, since last we met."
"Oh dear—I was getting so alarmed!" said she, with a faint sigh, her white hand hastily putting back the curls which were clustering rather more luxuriantly than usual over her cheek.
"Certainly, madam, you have no occasion to be alarmed; I have, however, an errand—one tome, at least, of inexpressible importance," he commenced, and in a lower key than that in which he had previously spoken; and there was a peculiarity in his manner which quite riveted Miss Aubrey's eye upon his expressive—and now, she saw plainly, agitated countenance. What can possibly be the matter? thought she, as she made a courteous but somewhat formal inclination towards him, and said something about "begging him to proceed."
"I hope, madam, that, comparatively few as have been my opportunities of becoming acquainted with it, I may venture to express, without offence, my profound appreciation of your superior character."
"Really, sir," interrupted Miss Aubrey, very anxiously—"you are not candid with me. I am now certain that you have some unpleasant communication to make! Do, I entreat of you, Mr. Gammon, give me credit for alittlepresence of mind and firmness; let me know the worst, and be prepared to break it to my brother and sister." Gammon seemed unable to bear her bright blue eyes fixed upon his own, which he directed to the floor, while his cheek flushed. Then he looked again at her; and with an eye which explained all, and drove away the bloom from her cheek, while it also suspended, for a moment, her breathing.
"Oh, forgive me for an instant—for one moment bear with me, Miss Aubrey!" continued Gammon, in a voice of low and thrilling pathos—"this interview agitates me almost to death; it is that which for a thousand hours of intense—absorbing—agonizing doubts and fears, I have been looking forward to!" Miss Aubrey sat perfectly silent and motionless, gazing intently at him, with blanched cheek: he might have been addressing a Grecian statue. "And now—now that it has at last arrived—when I feel as if I were breathing a new—a maddening atmosphere, occasioned by your presence—by the sight of your surpassing loveliness"——
"Gracious Heaven, sir! what can you mean!" at length interrupted Miss Aubrey, with a slight start—at the same time slipping her chair a little farther from Mr. Gammon. "I declare, sir, I do not in the least understand you," she continued with much energy; but her increasing paleness showed the effect which his extraordinary conduct had produced upon her. She made a strong and successful effort, however, to recover her self-possession.
"I perceive, madam, that you are agitated"——
"I am, sir! Astonished!—Shocked!—I could not have imagined"——
"Madam! madam! at the risk of being deemed unkind—cruel—if Idiefor it, I cannot resist telling you that I reverence—I love you to a degree"——
"Oh, Heavens!" murmured Miss Aubrey, still gazing with an air of amazement at him. Several times she thought of rising to ring the bell, and at once get rid of so astounding an interruption and intrusion; but for several reasons she abstained from doing so, as long as possible.
"It would be ridiculous, sir," said she, at length, with sudden spirit and dignity, "to affect ignorance of your meaning and intentions; butmay I venture to ask what conduct of mine—what single act of mine—or word—or look—has ever induced you to imagine—for one moment to indulge so insane"——
"Alas, madam, that which you could not conceal or control—your incomparable excellence—your beauty—loveliness—Madam! madam! the mere sight of your transcendent charms—my soul sank prostrate before you the first moment that I ever saw you"——
All this was uttered by Gammon in a very low tone, and with passionate fervor of manner. Miss Aubrey trembled visibly, and had grown very cold. A little vinaigrette stood beside her—and its stinging stimulating powers were infinitely serviceable, and at length aided her in making head against her rebellious feelings.
"I certainly ought to feel flattered, sir," said she, rapidly recovering herself—"by the high terms in which you are pleased to speak of me—of one who has not the slightest claim upon your good opinion. I really cannot conceive what conduct of mine can have led you to imagine that such an—an—application—as this could be successful—or received otherwise than with astonishment—and, if persisted in—displeasure, Mr. Gammon." This she said in her natural manner, and very pointedly.
"Miss Aubrey—permit me"——said Mr. Gammon, passionately.
"I cannot, sir—I have heard already too much; and I am sure, that when a lady requests agentlemanto desist from conduct which pains and shocks her—sir," she added hastily and peremptorily—"I beg you will at once desist from addressing me in so very improper a strain and manner!"
"Indulge my agonized feelings for one moment, Miss Aubrey," said Gammon, with desperate energy—"alas! I had suspected—I had feared—that our respective positions in society would lead you to despise socomparatively humble and obscure a person in point of station and circumstances"——
"Sir!" exclaimed Kate, magnificently, drawing up her figure to its utmost height—her manner almost petrifying Gammon, whose last words she had most unaccountably imagined, at the moment, to amount to a bitter sarcastic allusion to their fallen fortunes, and diminished personal consequence in society; but she was quickly undeceived, as he proceeded fervently—"Yes, madam—your birth—your family connections—your transcendent mental and personal qualities, shining all the brighter in the gloom of adversity"——
"I—I—I beg your pardon, sir—I misunderstood you," said Kate, discovering her error, and coloring violently—"but it is even more painful to me to listen to the language you are addressing to me. Since you urge me to it, I beg you to understand, sir, that if by what you have been saying to me, I am to gather that you are making me an offer of your addresses—I decline them at once, most peremptorily, as a thing quite out of the question." The tone and manner in which this was said—the determination and hauteur perceptible in her striking and expressive features—blighted all the nascent hopes of Gammon; who turned perfectly pale, and looked the very image of misery and despair. The workings of his strongly marked features told of the agony of his feelings. Neither he nor Miss Aubrey spoke for a few moments. "Alas! madam," at length he inquired in a tremulous voice, "am I presumptuous, if I intimate a fear—which I dare hardly own to myself even—that I am too late—that thereis some more fortunate"——Miss Aubrey blushed scarlet.
"Sir," said she, with quick indignant energy, "I shouldcertainly consider such inquiries—most—presumptuous—most offensive—mostunwarrantable!"—and indeed her eye quite shone with indignation. Gammon gazed at her with piercing intensity, and spoke not.
"You cannot but be aware, sir, that you are greatly taxing my forbearance—nay, sir, I feel that you are taking a very great liberty in making any such inquiries or suggestions," continued Miss Aubrey, proudly, but more calmly; "but, as your manner is unobjectionable and respectful, I have no difficulty in saying, sir, most unhesitatingly, that the reason you hint at, is not in the least concerned in the answer I have given. I have declined your proposals, sir, simply because Ichooseto decline them—because I have not, nor ever could have, the least disposition to entertain them."
Gammon could not, at the moment, determine whether she really had or had not a pre-engagement.
"Madam, you would bear with me did you but know the exquisite suffering your words occasion me! Your hopeless tone and manner appear to my soul to consign it to perdition—to render me perfectly careless about life," said Gammon, with irresistible pathos; and Miss Aubrey, as she looked and listened, in spite of herself pitied him. "I might, perhaps, establishsomeclaim to your favor, were I at liberty to recount to you my long unwearied exertions to shield your noble-spirited brother—nay, all of you—from impending trouble and danger—to avert it from you."