Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3

After anxious reflection, Mr. Gammon did not absolutely despair of extricating himself from the perils with which he was personally environed. As for certain fond hopes of political advancement, after which, indeed, his soul had so long pined, he did not even yet abandon the hope of being able to prevail on his friend at headquarters—to whom he had undoubtedly rendered considerable political services at no little personal risk—to overlook the accident which had befallen him, in the adverse verdict for the bribery penalties, even should he fail in his motion to defeat that verdict in the ensuing term. He had had indeed, a distinct intimation, that—that one obstacle removed—a very important and influential situation under government was within his reach. But, alas! this last overwhelming misfortune—how could he possibly evade or surmount it? What human ingenuity or intrepidity could avail to extricate him from the consequences of his insane avowal to Miss Aubrey—and his counter-statements to the Duke of Tantallan and Miss Macspleuchan—to say nothing of the Earl of Dreddlington? He resolved to risk it—to rely on his own resources, and the chapter of accidents. The mere presence of difficulty strung his nerves to encounter it. He resolved to rely on the impossibility of fixing him directly with a knowledge of the rottenness of Titmouse's pretensions—at all events, till a period considerably subsequent to the trial, and Titmouse's marriage with the Lady Cecilia. It occurred to him, as calculated, moreover, to aid his contemplated movements, if he could find a fair pretext for throwing overboard his partners, especially Mr. Quirk—satisfied that his own uniform caution had prevented him from committing himself to them—or at least had deprived them of means of proving it. He very soon met with an opportunity, of which he promptly availed himself.

Some week or ten days after the commencement of the term, Mr. Quirk was walking down Parliament Street, on his way to the Court of King's Bench, hoping, among other things, to hear the court say whether they would grant or refuse a rule nisi for a new trial, in a certain cause of Wigley v. Gammon, which had been moved for on the first day of term by Sir Charles Wolstenholme, and which Lord Widdrington had said the court would take a day or two's time to consider. Mr. Quirk's eye caught the figure of a person, a few steps in advance of him, whom he fancied he had seen before. In a few minutes' time, the old gentleman was covered with a cold perspiration; for in a young man, about thirty years old, decently dressed—thin, sallow, and wearing a very depressed air—Mr. Quirk recognized Mr. Steggars—a gentleman whom he had imagined to be at that moment comfortably settled, and for some ten years yet to come and unexpired, at Botany Bay! This was the individual, it may be recollected, whose execrable breach of trust, when a clerk of Mr. Parkinson's at Grilston, had led to Mr. Quirk's discovery of the infirmity in Mr. Aubrey's title. The fact was, that Mr. Steggars had quitted England, as the reader may recollect, horribly disgusted with Mr. Quirk's conduct towards him; and had also subsequently experienced some little remorse on account of his own mean and cruel conduct towards a distinguished gentleman and his family, none of whom had ever given him the slightest pretext for hostility or revenge. He had contrived to make his feelings upon the subject known to an official individual at Botany Bay, who had given him an opportunity of explaining matters fully to the authorities at home—the principal of whom, the Home Secretary—had been, and indeed continued to be, a warm personal friend of Mr. Aubrey's. This minister caused inquiries to be made concerning Steggars' behavior while abroad, which were so satisfactorily answered as to procure a remission of the remainder of his sentence, just as he was entering upon his fourth year's service at Botany Bay. Immediately on his return—which had taken place only a few days before the commencement of Michaelmas Term—he sought out Mr. Aubrey's attorneys, Messrs. Runnington, and put them fully in possession of all the facts of the case, relating to Mr. Quirk's grossly dishonorable conduct in obtaining and acting upon a knowledge of the supposed defect in Mr. Aubrey's title. Upon Mr. Quirk's coming alongside of this gentleman, and looking at him with a most anxious inquisitiveness, he encountered a fearfully significant glance—and then Mr. Steggars, in a very pointed and abrupt manner, crossed over the street for the purpose of avoiding him. Mr. Quirk was so dreadfully disconcerted by this occurrence, that instead of going on to court, where he would have heard Mr. Gammon's rule for a new trial refused, he retraced his steps homeward, and arrived at the office just as a clerk was inquiring for him; and who, on seeing him, put into his hands the following startling document, being a "Rule" which had been granted the day before, by the Court of King's Bench:—

"On reading the Affidavit of Jonathan Steggars, the affidavits of James Parkinson and Charles Runnington, and the paper-writing marked A, all thereunto annexed, It is ORDERED that Caleb Quirk, Gentleman, an attorney of this Honorable Court, do, on Wednesday next, in this present term, show cause why he should not forthwith deliver up to Charles Aubrey, Esquire, the deeds and documents specified in the paper-writing thereto annexed, marked A, and also, why he should not answer the matters contained in the said Affidavits.19 Upon the motion of Sir Charles Wolstenholme.

"By the Court."

"Oh Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, faintly, and, sinking into his chair, inquired for Mr. Gammon; but, as usual, he had not been at Saffron Hill that day. Giving orders to Mr. Amminadab to have copies taken immediately of the affidavits mentioned in the rule, Mr. Quirk set off for Mr. Gammon's chambers, but missed that gentleman, who he learned, had gone to Westminster. The next day Mr. Gammon called at the office, but Mr. Quirk was absent; on going, however, into the old gentleman's room, Mr. Gammon's eye lit on the above-mentioned "rule," and also on the affidavits upon which it had been granted. Having hurriedly glanced over them, he hastily replaced them on the desk, as he had found them, and repaired to his own room, greatly flustered—resolved to wait for Mr. Quirk's arrival, and appear to be informed by him, for the first time, of the existence of the aforesaid formidable documents. While he was really buried in a revery, with his head resting on one hand and a pen in the other, his countenance miserably pale and harassed, Mr. Quirk burst hastily into his room with the rule and affidavits in his hand.

"Oh Lord, Gammon! How are you, Gammon?" he stuttered. "Haven't seen you this age!—Where have you been? How are you, eh?" and he grasped very cordially the cold hand of Mr. Gammon, which did not return the pressure.

"I am not very well, Mr. Quirk; but—you seem agitated!—Has anything fresh hap"–

"Fresh?—Ecod, my dear Gammon! Fresh, indeed! Here's a new enemy come into the field!—D–d if I don't feel going mad!—Look, Gammon, look!"—and he placed the rule and affidavits in Mr. Gammon's hands, and sat down beside him.

"What!—Answer the matters in the affidavit?" quoth Gammon, amazedly.—"Why, what have you been doing, Mr. Quirk? And—who upon earth is—Jonathan Steggars?"

"Who's Steggars!" echoed Mr. Quirk, stupidly.

"Yes, Mr. Quirk—Steggars. Who is he?" repeated Gammon, intrepidly.

"Steggars, you know—Gammon! You recollect Steggars, of course—eh?" inquired Mr. Quirk, with an apprehensive stare—"Steggars; Steggars—you know! eh? You don't recollect! Oh, botheration! Come, come, Gammon!"

"Who is he?" again inquired Gammon, somewhat sternly.

"Oh Lud! oh Lud! oh Lud!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, despairingly—"What are you after, Gammon? You don't intend—it can't be—that you're going to—eh?—It's Steggars, you know—we defended him, you know—and he got transported for embezzling that mortgage money of Mr. Parkinson's. You recollect how we got hold of Mr. Aubrey's story from him?" While Mr. Quirk was saying all this with feverish impetuosity, Mr. Gammon appeared to be, for the first time, glancing eagerly over the affidavits.

"Why—good heavens, Mr. Quirk!" said he, presently, with a start—"is it possible that these statements can have the slightest foundation in fact?"

"Ay, drat it—that you know as well as I do, Gammon," replied Mr. Quirk, with not a little eagerness and trepidation—"Come, come, it's rather late in the day to sham Abraham just now, friend Gammon!"

"Do you venture, Mr. Quirk, to stand there, and deliberately charge me with being a party to the grossly dishonorable conduct of which you are here accused upon oath—which, indeed, you admit yourself to have been guilty of?"

"D–d if I don't, Master Gammon!" replied Mr. Quirk, slapping his hand on the table after a long pause, in which he looked completely confounded and aghast. "Why, you'll want, by-and-by, to persuade me that my name isn't Caleb Quirk—why, zounds! you'll drive me mad! You're gone mad yourself—you must be!"

"How dare you insult me, sir, by charging me with conniving at your infamous and most unprofessional conduct?"

"Why—come!" cried Quirk, with a horrible laugh—"You don't know how we first got scent of the whole thing?—Ah, ha! It dropped down from the clouds, I suppose, into our office—oh Lud, Lud, Gammon! it isn't kind to leave an old friend in the lurch at such a pinch as this!"

"I tell you, Mr. Quirk, that I never had the least idea in the world that this wretch Steggars—Faugh! I should have scouted the whole thing! I would rather have retired from the firm!"

"That's it, Gammon! Go on, Gammon! This is uncommonly funny! It is, indeed, aha!" quoth Quirk, trembling violently.

"This is no time for trifling, sir, believe me. Let me tell you thus much, in all candor—that I certainly had, from the first, misgivings as to the means by which you became possessed of this information; but considering our relative situations, I did not feel myself at liberty to press you on the point—Oh, Mr. Quirk, I am really shocked beyond all bounds! What will the profession say of"—

"D– the profession! What d'ye suppose I must be just now thinking of you? Why, you'd make a dog strike its father!"

"I may have been unfortunate, Mr. Quirk—I may have been imprudent; but I have never been dishonorable—and I would not for the whole creation have my name associated with this infernal transac"–

"Come, come—who wanted me to forge a tombstone, Gammon?" inquired Mr. Quirk, glancing very keenly at his friend.

"Wanted you to forge a tombstone, sir!" echoed Gammon, with an astounded air.

"Ay! ay! Forge a tombstone!" repeated Mr. Quirk, dropping his voice, and slapping one hand upon the other.

"Upon my word and honor, Mr. Quirk, I pity you! You've lost your senses!"

"You wanted me to forge a tombstone! D–d if you didn't!"

"You had better go home, Mr. Quirk, and take some physic to clear your head, for I am sure you're going wrong altogether!" said Gammon.

"Oh, Gammon, Gammon! Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Come—honor among thieves! Be honest for once"–

"Your conduct is so extraordinary, Mr. Quirk, that I must request you to leave my room, sir"–

"I sha'n't—it's mine too"—quoth Quirk, snapping his fingers with a desperate air.

"Then I will, sir," replied Gammon, with a low bow; and, taking up his hat, moved towards the door.

"You sha'n't, Gammon—you mustn't!" cried Quirk, but in vain—Mr. Gammon had taken his final departure, leaving Mr. Quirk on the very verge of madness. By-and-by he went into Snap's room, who sat there the picture of misery and terror; for whereas it had always seemed to him that he had never been fairly admitted into the confidence of his senior partners in the very important matters which had been going on for the last two years—now that all things were going wrong, he was candidly given credit by Mr. Quirk and Mr. Gammon for having lent a helping hand to everything from the very beginning! In fact, he was frightened out of his wits at the terrible turn which matters were taking. 'T was he who had to stand the brunt of the horrid badgering of the three frenzied Jews; he was included in half-a-dozen indictments for fraud and conspiracy, at the instance of the aforesaid Israelites, and of the assignees of Mr. Tag-rag; and Heaven only could form a notion of what other good things were in store for him! He wondered vastly that they had not contrived to stick his name into the affidavits which had that day come in, and which seemed to have turned Mr. Quirk's head upside down! Conscious, however, of his own innocence, he resolved to hold on to the last, with a view, in the event of the partnership blowing up, of scraping together a nice little practice out of the remnants.

Half recklessly, and half in furtherance of some designs which he was forming, Gammon followed up, on the ensuing morning, his move with Mr. Quirk, by sending to him and to Mr. Snap a formal written notice of his intention to retire from the partnership, in conformity with the provisions of their articles, at the end of a calendar month from the date; and he resolved to take no part at all in the matter to which Mr. Quirk's attention had been so sternly challenged by the Court of King's Bench—leaving Mr. Quirk to struggle through it as best he might.

But what was Mr. Gammon to do?

He could not stir a step in any direction for want of money—getting every hour more and more involved and harassed on this score. The ecclesiastical suit he had given up, and Mr. Quod had instantly sent in his heavy bill, requiring immediate payment—reminding Mr. Gammon that he had pledged himself to see him paid, whatever might be the issue. Here, again, was an action of ejectment, on a tremendous scale, actually commenced, and being vigorously carried on—with evidently unlimited funds at command—for the recovery of every acre of the Yatton property. Was it to be resisted? Where were the funds? Here he was, again, already a defendant in four indictments, charging fraud and conspiracy—proceedings entailing a most destructive expense; and his motion for a new trial, in the action for the bribery penalty having failed, he was now liable to pay, almost instantly, a sum exceeding £3,000 to the plaintiff, for debt and costs. As for the balance of their bill against Mr. Aubrey, that was melting away hourly in the taxing-office; and the probable result would be an action against them, at the suit of Mr. Aubrey, for maliciously holding him to bail. Was it possible, thought Gammon, to make the two promissory notes of Mr. Aubrey available, by discontinuing the actions commenced upon them, and indorsing them over at a heavy discount? He took an opinion upon the point—which was to the effect, that such a step could not then be taken, so as to give any third party a better right against Mr. Aubrey than Mr. Titmouse had. Even had this, however, been otherwise, an unexpected obstacle arose in Mr. Spitfire, who now held Mr. Gammon at arm's length, and insisted on going forward with the actions; but he, in his turn, was, as it were, checkmated by a move of Mr. Runnington's in the Court of Chancery; where he obtained an injunction against proceeding with the actions on the notes, till the result of the pending action of ejectment should have been ascertained; and, in the event of the lessor of the plaintiff recovering, an account taken of the mesne profits which had been received by Mr. Titmouse. No one, of course, would now advance a farthing on mortgage of Mr. Titmouse's interest in the Yatton property; and Mr. Gammon's dearly earned rent-charge of £2,000 a-year had become mere waste parchment, and as such he destroyed it. The advertisements concerning Lord De la Zouch's bond had effectually restrained Mr. Gammon from raising anything upon it; since any one advancing money upon the security of its assignment, must have put it in suit against his Lordship, when due, in the name of Mr. Titmouse, and any answer to an action by him, would of course operate against the party using his name. Mr. Gammon then bethought himself of felling the timber at Yatton; but, as if that step on his part had been anticipated, before they had got down more than a couple of trees at the extremity of the estate, down came an injunction from the Lord Chancellor, and so there was an end of all resources from that quarter. Should he try the experiment of offering to surrender Yatton without the delay and expense of defending the ejectment? He knew he should be laughed at; they must quickly see that he had no funds to fight with, even had he the slightest case to support. Mr. Gammon saw that Mr. Aubrey's position was already impregnable, and the notion of a compromise utterly ridiculous. As for resources of his own, he had none, for he had been exceedingly unfortunate in his dealings in the British and foreign funds, and had suffered severely and unexpectedly through his connection with one or two of the bubble companies of the day. In fact, he was liable to be called upon at any moment for no less a sum than £3,000, and interest, which had been advanced to him on security of a joint and several bond given by himself and Mr. Titmouse; and he lived in daily dread lest the increasing frequency of the rumors to his discredit, should get to the ears of this particular creditor, and precipitate his demand of repayment. To the vexation occasioned by this direct pecuniary embarrassment, and by the impossibility of retrieving himself by a move in any direction—being, in short, in a complete dead-lock—were to be added other sources of exquisite anxiety and mortification. To say nothing of the perilous legal and criminal liabilities which he had incurred, the consciousness of his appearing an atrocious liar, and indeed an impostor, in the eyes of the Duke of Tantallan, of the Earl of Dreddlington, of Miss Macspleuchan, of the Aubreys, of Miss Aubrey—in fact, of every one who saw or heard of what he had done—stung him almost to madness; considerations of this kind were infinitely more insupportable than all the others by which he was oppressed, put together. And when he reflected that the Lord Chancellor, to whose favorable notice he had ever fondly aspired—and to a considerable extent, successfully—had been put in possession of all the heavy charges made against him, on the score of fraud and conspiracy, by means of the various motions made before his Lordship, and the affidavits by which they were supported, he felt his soul withered within him. In short, it must surely appear, by this time, that the devil had, in his dismal sport, got his friend Mr. Gammon up into a corner.

In like manner Mr. Titmouse had his lesser troubles—for he was all of a sudden reduced very nearly to the verge of literal starvation. His creditors of every kind and degree seemed actuated by the spirit of the law of the Twelve Tables—which, when a debtor was insolvent, permitted his creditors to cut him, bodily, physically, into pieces, in proportion to the respective magnitudes of their claims against him. Actions were commenced against him by the three Jews, on his covenants to repay the principal and interest due on the mortgages; half-a-dozen more were pending against him on bills of exchange and promissory notes, which he had given for various sums of money which had been lent him, though he had no means of proving the fact, on terms of the most monstrous usury. Scarcely was there a single tradesman in town or country with whom he had ever dealt, who had not sued, or was not about to sue him. Every article of furniture both at Yatton and at his lodgings—great or small, cabs, harness, horses—all had disappeared: and, but for the protection afforded to his person by privilege of Parliament, he would have been pounced upon by at least a hundred ravenous and infuriate creditors in an instant, and never been seen or heard of any more, except on the occasion of some feeble and vain cry for relief under the Insolvent Debtors' Act. He had been obliged, on coming up from Yatton, to borrow five pounds from poor Dr. Tatham!—who, though infinitely surprised at the application, and greatly inconvenienced by compliance with it, lent him cheerfully the sum he asked for; Titmouse, the little scamp, pledging himself to enclose the doctor a five-pound note by the first post after his reaching town. That, however, even had he ever intended giving the matter a thought, he could no more have done than he could have sent Dr. Tatham the mitre of the Archbishop of Canterbury; in consequence of which the worthy little doctor was obliged to postpone his long-meditated purchase of a black coat and breeches indefinitely. The morning after Titmouse's return, he betook himself to Saffron Hill, which he reached just as Mr. Quirk and Mr. Snap, deserted by Mr. Gammon, were endeavoring, in great tribulation and terror, to concoct affidavits in answer to those on which the rule in the Court of King's Bench had been obtained. Mr. Amminadab, with a little hesitation, yielded to his importunities, and allowed him to go into Mr. Quirk's room.

"Oh, Lud! Oh, Lud—you—you—you—infernal little villain!" cried out Mr. Quirk, hastily approaching him, pale and stuttering with fury—and, taking him by the collar, turned him out by main force.

"I say!—I say!—Come, sir! I'm a member of"–

"I'll member you, you impostor! Get out with you!—get out!"

"So help me–! I'll go to some other attor"–gasped Titmouse, ineffectually struggling against Mr. Quirk.

"Eugh!—Beast!" exclaimed Snap, who kept by the side of Mr. Quirk, ready to give any assistance which might be requisite.

"What have I–eh?—What have I done—demme!—Come, come—hollo! hands off"–

"If ever—if ever—if ever you dare show your cursed little face here—again"—sputtered Mr. Quirk, trembling with rage.

"This is a breach of privilege!—On my life I'll—I really will—I'll complain to the House to-night." By this time he had been forced through the outer passage into the street, and the door closed furiously behind him. A little crowd was instantly collected around him, and he might possibly have thought of addressing it in terms of indignant eloquence, but he was deterred by the approach of a policeman, with a very threatening countenance, and slunk down Saffron Hill in a truly shocking state of mind. Then he hurried to Thavies' Inn, pale as death—and with a tremulous voice inquired for Mr. Gammon; but that gentleman had given special orders to be invariably denied to him. Again and again he called—and was again and again repulsed; and though he lingered on one or two occasions for an hour at least, in order to waylay Mr. Gammon, it was in vain. Letter after letter he sent, but with no better effect; and at length the laundress refused to take them in.

Gammon dared not see Titmouse; not because he feared Titmouse, but himself.

The House of Commons was sitting, unusual as was such an occurrence at that time of the year; but Parliament had been called together on a special urgency, and a very fierce and desperate contest was carrying on between the Opposition and the Ministers, whose very existence was at stake, and almost nightly divisions were melting down their majority, till they were within an ace of being in a positive minority. Under these circumstances, although Mr. Titmouse's position had become a matter of notoriety, and he could no longer exhibit in public even the outside show and trappings of a man of fashion, beyond his mere personal finery, (which had become very precious, because he saw no means of replacing it,) and though he was cut, as a matter of course, by every one out of doors, yet he found he had one friend, at least, in his extremity, who scorned to imitate the fickle and perfidious conduct of all around him. That frank and manly individual was no less a person, to his honor be it spoken, than the Secretary of the Treasury—and whipper-in—Mr. Flummery; who always spoke to him in the most cordial and confiding manner, and once or twice even asked him to join his dinner-table at Bellamy's. On one of these occasions, Mr. Titmouse resolved to put Mr. Flummery's friendship to the test, and boldly asked for a "place." His distinguished friend appeared certainly startled for a moment, and then evidently felt inwardly tickled, as was evinced by a faint twitching at the corners of his mouth. He proceeded, however, in a very confidential manner, to ask Mr. Titmouse as to his familiarity with financial matters; for (in the most sacred confidence) it did so happen that, although no one knew it but himself and one other person, there was sure to be a vacancy in a certain office within a fortnight at farthest; and without saying anything further, Mr. Flummery laid his finger on his lip, and looked steadfastly at Titmouse, who did similarly; and within half an hour's time made one of a glorious majority of four, obtained by the triumphant Ministry. Titmouse was now in excellent spirits concerning his future prospects, and felt that, if he could but contrive to hold on during the fortnight intervening between him and his accession to office, all would be well. He therefore conceived he had nothing to do but apply to some one or two friends, whom he had accommodated with loans, for repayment. But, alas! Mr. O'Doodle acknowledged that his exchequer was empty just then; and Mr. M'Squash said he really fancied he had repaid Mr. Titmouse the hundred pounds which he had lent him, but would look and see. Then Mr. Titmouse ventured to apply to Mr. O'Gibbet—that gentleman being Titmouse's debtor to the tune of some five hundred pounds. He called Mr. Titmouse aside, and in the most delicate and feeling manner intimated the delight it would have afforded him to respond to the call of Mr. Titmouse under ordinary circumstances; but the fact was, he felt placed in a most painfully embarrassing position, on account of the grave doubts which had occurred to him, as to the right of Mr. Titmouse either to have lent the money at all, or, consequently, to receive repayment of it. In short, the lawyers would call this setting up the jus tertii; Mr. O'Gibbet protesting that he looked upon himself, in point of conscience, as a trustee of the money for the real owner; and, till he should have been discovered, bound to retain it—so pleasant is sometimes the performance of one's duty! Titmouse could not in the least appreciate these exquisite scruples; but knowing Mr. O'Gibbet's influence over Mr. Flummery, he feigned to acquiesce in the propriety of what was advanced by Mr. O'Gibbet, who, on being pressed, lent him five pounds.