CONTENTS TO VOL. II.

I.

After the battle.—The behavior of the belligerents; and an adventurous project of Mr. Gammon's

1.

II.

The last chance; and some profitable reflections.—A Quixote; and a friendly statesman, but with an eye to business

31.

III.

Mr. Aubrey surrenders at discretion; and the opposing generals hold a council of war.—A glimpse of the Reverend Dismal Horror; and Mr. Quirk's entertainment to Mr. and Mrs. Tag-rag

60.

IV.

Mr. Titmouse's magnificent kinsman, the Right Honorable the Earl of Dreddlington, G. C. B.—Farewell to Yatton!

89.

V.

Mr. Titmouse's first introduction to very high life indeed.—A dinner with an Earl, in Grosvenor Square

134.

VI.

Mr. Titmouse at Yatton, and the splendid festivities attending his inauguration

170.

VII.

A gentleman in difficulties pondering his position and prospects; never despair.—The Attorney-General, and Mr. Weasel, special pleader.—Suspense and trepidation

209.

VIII.

Mr. Aubrey's interview with Mr. Gammon; followed by some philosophical reflections on life.—Messrs. Yahoo and Fitz-Snooks versus Titmouse; and Gammon versus them all.—Tippetiwink

251.

IX.

Titmouse become a great lion.—The Marquis Gants-Jaunes de Millefleurs; and the Reverend Morphine Velvet.—Mr. Titmouse presented at court after a slight accident to the Earl of Dreddlington

304.

X.

A drop of the golden shower falls on Mr. Tag-rag, who receives promotion.—Mr. Titmouse receives the Earl of Dreddlington and Lady Cecilia, the Marquis Gants-Jaunes de Millefleurs, Mr. Venom Tuft, and Mr. Gammon, at Yatton.—Mr. Gammon and the Earl of Dreddlington.—Sapping and Mining.—Lady Cecilia and her three lovers; with her father's masterly diplomacy in favor of one of them

345.

XI.

Mr. Aubrey in deep waters, where he meets with a companion.—News from Dr. Tatham

399.

XII.

A communication from Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap.—Mr. Gammon in Vivian Street, after the manner of a snake in a dove-cote.—Mr. Quirk's contemplated action for breach of promise of marriage

429.

XIII.

How Mr. Titmouse courted the Lady Cecilia.—Mr. Titmouse stands for the borough of Yatton, but unexpectedly encounters a formidable opponent

461.

485.

TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR.

CHAPTER I.

"The Attorney-General did his work very fairly, I thought—eh, Lynx?" said Mr. Subtle, as arm-in-arm with Mr. Lynx, he quitted the Castle-gates, each of them on his way to their respective lodgings, to prepare for the next day's work.

"Yes—he's a keen hand, to be sure: he's given us all work enough; and I must say, it's been a capital set-to between you! I'm very glad you got the verdict!"

"It wouldn't have done to be beaten on one's own dung-hill, as it were—eh? By the way, Lynx, that was a good hit of yours about the erasure—I ought, really, if it had occurred to me at the time, to have given you the credit of it—'twas entirely yours, Lynx, I must say."

"Oh, no!"—replied Lynx, modestly. "It was a mere accident my lighting on it; the merit was, the use you made of it!"

"To think of ten thousand a-year turning on that same trumpery erasure!"——

"But are you sure of our verdict on that ground, Mr. Subtle? Do you think Lord Widdrington was right in rejecting that deed?"[1]

"Right? to be sure he was! But I own I got rather uneasy at the way the Attorney-General put it—that [Pg 2] the estate had once been vested, and could not be subsequently de-vested by an alteration or blemish in the instrument evidencing the passing of the estate—eh? that was a good point, Lynx."

"Ay, but as Lord Widdrington put it—that could be only where the defect was proved to exist after a complete and valid deed had been once established."

"True—true; that's the answer, Lynx; here, you see, the deed is disgraced in the first instance; no proof, in fact, that it ever was a deed—therefore, mere waste paper."

"To be sure, possession has gone along with the deed"——

"Possession gone along with it!—What then?—That is to say, the man who has altered it, to benefit himself and his heirs, keeps it snugly in his own chest—and then that is of itself to be sufficient to"——

"Ay—but what I'm afraid of, is this: that the presumption of forgery arising from the alteration, is overcome by the presumption to the contrary, arising from long-continued and consistent possession!—On the other hand, however, it is certainly a general rule that the party producing an instrument must account for the appearance of erasure or alteration, to encounter the presumption of fraud!—I must say that seems good sense enough!"...

"It's really been a very interesting cause," said Mr. Subtle.

"Very. Some capital points—that of Mortmain's on the stamp act"——

"Pish, Lynx! there's nothing in it! I meant the cause itself has been an interesting one—uncommonly."

Mr. Subtle suddenly paused and stood still. "God bless my soul, Lynx—I've made a blunder!"

"Eh!"

[Pg 3]

"Yes—by Jove, a blunder! Never did such a thing since I've led a cause before!"

"A blunder? Impossible!—What is it?" inquired Lynx, briskly, pricking up his ears.

"It will be at least thirty or forty pounds out of our client's pocket. I forgot to ask Widdrington for the certificate for the costs of the special jury. I protest I never did such a thing before—I'm quite annoyed—I hate to overlook anything."

"Oh! is that all?" inquired Lynx, much relieved—"then it's all right! While you were speaking to Mr. Gammon, immediately after the verdict had been given, I turned towards Quicksilver to get him to ask for the certificate—but he had seen a man with the new 'Times' containing the Division on the Catholic claims, and had set off after him—so I took the liberty, as you seemed very earnestly talking to Mr. Gammon, to name it to the judge—and it's all right."

"Capital!—Then there isn't a single point missed!—And in a good two days' fight that's something."

"D'ye think we shall keep the verdict, and get its fruits?"

"We shall keep the verdict, I've no doubt; there's nothing in Widdrington's notes that we need be afraid of—but of course the Aubreys will put us to bring another ejectment, perhaps several."

"Yes—certainly—there must be a good deal of fighting before such a property as Yatton changes hands," replied Lynx, with a complacent air; for he saw a few pleasant pickings in store for him. "By the way," he continued, "our client's a sweet specimen of humanity, isn't he?"

"Faugh! odious little reptile! And did you ever in all your life witness such a scene as when he interrupted me in the way he did?"

[Pg 4]

"Ha, ha! Never! But, upon my honor, what an exquisite turn you gave the thing—it was worth more than called it forth—it was admirable."

"Pooh—Lynx!" said Mr. Subtle, with a gratified air; "knack—mere knack—nothing more. My voice trembled—eh?—at least so I intended."

"Upon my soul, I almost believed you were for the moment overcome, and going to shed tears."

"Ah, ha, ha!—Delightful! I was convulsed with inward laughter! Shed tears!! Did the bar take it, Lynx?" inquired Mr. Subtle; for though he hated display, he loved appreciation, and by competent persons. "By the way, Lynx, the way in which you've got up the whole case does you vast credit—that opinion of yours on the evidence was—upon my word—the most masterly"—here he suddenly ceased and squeezed his companion's arm, motioning him thereby to silence. They had come up with two gentlemen, walking slowly, and conversing in a low tone, but with much earnestness of manner. They were, in fact, Mr. Aubrey and Lord De la Zouch. Mr. Subtle and Mr. Lynx crossed over to the other side of the narrow street, and quickened their pace, so as soon to be out of sight and hearing of the persons they seemed desirous of avoiding. Mr. Subtle was, indeed, unable to bear the sight of the man whom his strenuous and splendid exertions during the last two days had tended to strip of his all—to thrust from the bright domain of wealth, prosperity, distinction, into—as it

were—outer darkness—the outer darkness of poverty—of destitution.

"It's rather a nuisance for the Aubreys—isn't it?" quoth the matter-of-fact Lynx.

"It's quite frightful!"—replied Mr. Subtle, in a tone of voice and with a manner which showed how deeply he felt what he uttered. "And it's not only what Mr. [Pg 5] Aubrey will lose, but what he will be liable to—the mesne profits—sixty thousand pounds."

"Oh!—you think, then, that we can't go beyond the statute of limitations?—Eh?—is that so clear?" Mr. Subtle looked sharply at Lynx, with an expression it would be difficult to describe. "Well"—continued the impenetrable Lynx—"at all events, I'll look into it." He felt about as much sentiment in the matter as a hog eating acorns would feel interest in the antiquity of the oak from which they fell, and under whose venerable shade he was munching and stuffing himself.

"By the way, Lynx—aren't you with me in Higson and Mellington?"

"Yes—and it stands first for to-morrow morning!"

"I've not opened my papers, and—why, we've a consultation fixed for ten o'clock to-night! What's it all about?"

"It's libel against a newspaper editor—the Pomfret Cockatrice; and our client's a clergyman. They've slandered him most abominably: they say he entered the church as a wholesale dealer in tithes—and as to religion—is an unbeliever and hypocrite!"

"Ay, ay?—that sounds a little like substantial damages!—Do they justify?"[2]

"No—they've pleaded not guilty only."

"Who leads for the defender?"

"Mr. Quicksilver."

"Oh!—very well. We must have the consultation to-morrow morning, at the Robing-room—ten minutes before the sitting of the court. I'm rather tired to-night." With this the great leader shook hands with his modest, learned, laborious junior—and entered his lodgings.

As soon as Titmouse had been ejected from the court, in the summary way which the reader will recollect, merely on account of his having, with some slight indecorum, [Pg 6] yielded to the mighty impulse of his agitated feelings, he began to cry bitterly, wringing his hands, and asking every one about him if they thought he could get in again, because it was "his case" that was going on. His eyes were red and swollen with weeping; and his little breast throbbed violently as he walked to and fro from one door of the court to the other. "Oh, gents, will you get me in again?" said he, in passionate tones, approaching two gentlemen, who, with a very anxious and oppressed air, were standing together at the outside of one of the doors—in fact, Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Aubrey; and they quickly recognized in Titmouse the gentleman whose claims were being at that instant mooted within the court. "Will you get me in? You seem such respectable gents—'Pon my soul I'm going mad! It's my case that's going on! I'm Mr. Titmouse"——

"We have no power, sir, to get you in," replied Lord De la Zouch, haughtily: so coldly and sternly as to cause Titmouse involuntarily to shrink from him.

"The court is crowded to the very door, sir—and we really have no more right to be present in court, or get others into court, than you have," said Mr. Aubrey, with mildness and dignity.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you!" quoth Titmouse, moving with an apprehensive air away from Lord De la Zouch, towards Mr. Aubrey, "Know quite well who you are, sir! 'Pon my solemn soul, sir, sorry to do all this; but law's law, and right's right, all the world over!"

"I desire you to leave us, sir," said Lord De la Zouch, with irrepressible sternness; "you are very intrusive. How can we catch a syllable of what is going on while you are chattering in this way?" Titmouse saw that Mr. Aubrey looked towards him with a very different expression from that exhibited by his forbidding companion, and would perhaps have stood his ground, but for a [Pg 7] glimpse he caught of a huge, powdered, broad-shouldered footman, in a splendid livery, one of Lord De la Zouch's servants, who, with a great thick silver-headed cane in his hand, was standing at a little distance behind, in attendance on the carriage, which was in the Castle-yard. This man's face looked so ready for mischief, that Titmouse slowly walked off. There were a good many standers-by, who seemed all to look with dislike and distrust at Titmouse. He made many ineffectual attempts to persuade the doorkeeper, who had assisted in his extrusion, to readmit him; but the incorruptible janitor was proof against a sixpence—even against a shilling; and at length Titmouse

gave himself up to despair, and thought himself the most miserable man in the whole world—as very probably, indeed, he was: for consider what a horrid interval of suspense he had to endure, from the closing of Mr. Subtle's speech, till the delivery of the verdict. But at length, through this portentous and apparently impenetrable cloud burst the rich sunlight of success.

"Mr. Titmouse!—Mr. Titmouse!—Mr. Tit"——

"Here! Here I am! Here!"—exclaimed the little wretch, jumping off the window-seat on which he had been sitting for the last hour in the dark, half-stupefied with grief and exhaustion. The voice which called him was a blessed voice—a familiar voice—the voice of Mr. Gammon; who, as soon as the jury had begun to come back, on some pretence or other had quitted his seat between Quirk and Snap, in order, if the verdict should be for the plaintiff, to be the very first to communicate it to him. In a moment or two Mr. Gammon had grasped both Mr. Titmouse's hands. "My dear, dear Mr. Titmouse, I congratulate you! You are victorious! God grant you long life to enjoy your good fortune! God bless you, Titmouse!" He wrung Titmouse's hands—and his voice trembled with the intensity of his emotions! Mr. Titmouse [Pg 8] had grown very white, and for a while spoke not, but stood staring at Mr. Gammon, as if hardly aware of the import of his communication.

"No—but—is it so? Honor bright?" at length he stammered.

"It is indeed! My long labors are at length crowned with success!—Hurrah, hurrah, Mr. Titmouse!"

"I've really won? It a'n't a joke or a dream?" inquired Titmouse, with quickly increasing excitement, and a joyous expression bursting over his features, which became suddenly flushed.

"A joke?—the best you'll ever have. A dream?—that will last your life. Thank God, Mr. Titmouse, the battle's ours; we've defeated all their villany!"

"Tol de rol! Tol de rol! Tol de lol, lol, lol, rido!—Ah," he added in a loud truculent tone, as Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Aubrey slowly passed him—"done for you now—'pon my life!—turned the tables!—that for you!" said he, snapping his fingers; but I need hardly say that he did so with perfect impunity, as far as those two gentlemen were concerned, who were so absorbed with the grievous event which had just happened, as scarcely to be aware of their being addressed at all.

"Aubrey, it's against you—all is lost; the verdict is for the plaintiff!" said Lord De la Zouch, in a hurried agitated whisper, as he grasped the hand of Mr. Aubrey, whom he had quitted for an instant to hear the verdict pronounced. Mr. Aubrey for some moments spoke not.

"God's will be done!" at length said he, in a low tone, or rather in a faint murmur. More than a dozen gentlemen, who came crowding out, grasped his hand with fervent energy.

"God bless you, Aubrey! God bless you!" said several voices, their speakers wringing his hands with great vehemence as they spoke.

[Pg 9]

"Let us go"—said Lord De la Zouch, putting Mr. Aubrey's arm in his own, and leading him away from a scene of distressing excitement, too powerful for his exhausted feelings.

"I am nothing of a fatalist," said Mr. Aubrey, after a considerable pause, during which they had quitted the Castle-gates, and his feelings had recovered from the shock which they had just before suffered;—"I am nothing of a fatalist, but I ought not to feel the least surprise at this issue, for I have long had a settled conviction that such would be the issue. For some time before I had the least intimation of the commencement of these proceedings, I was oppressed by a sense of impending calamity"——

"Well, that may be so; but it does not follow that the mischief is finally done."

"I am certain of it!—But, dear Lord De la Zouch, how much I owe to your kindness and sympathy!" said Mr. Aubrey, with a slight tremor in his voice.

"We are at this moment, Aubrey, firmer friends than we ever were before. So help me Heaven! I would not lose your friendship for the world; I feel it a greater honor than I am worthy of—I do, indeed," said Lord De la Zouch, with great emotion.

"There's a great gulf between us, though, Lord De la Zouch, as far as worldly circumstances are concerned—you a peer of the realm, I a beggar!"

"Forgive me, Aubrey, but it is idle to talk in that way; I am hurt beyond measure at your supposing it possible that under any circumstances"——

"Believe me, I feel the full value of your friendship—more valuable at this moment than ever!"

"That a serious calamity has fallen upon you is certain;—which of us, indeed, is safe from such a calamity? But who would bear it with the calm fortitude which you have already evinced, my dear Aubrey?"

[Pg 10]

"You speak very kindly, Lord De la Zouch; I trust I shall play the man, now that the time for playing a man's part has come," said Mr. Aubrey, with an air of mingled melancholy and resolution. "I feel an inexpressible consolation in the reflection, that I cannot charge myself with anything unconscientious; and, as for the future, I put my trust in God. I feel as if I could submit to the will of Heaven with cheerfulness"——

"Don't speak so despondingly, Aubrey"——

"Despondingly?" echoed Mr. Aubrey, with momentary animation—"Despondingly? My dear friend, I feel as if I were indeed entering a scene black as midnight—but what is it to the valley of the shadow of death, dear Lord De la Zouch, which is before all of us, and at but a little distance! I assure you I feel no vain-glorious confidence; yet I seem to be leaning on the arm of an unseen but all-powerful supporter!"

"You are a hero, my dear Aubrey!" exclaimed Lord De la Zouch, with sudden fervor.

"And that support will embrace those dearer to me than life—dearer—far—far"——He ceased; his feelings quite overcame him, and they walked on for some time in silence. Soon afterwards they parted—for Lord De la Zouch perceived that his unfortunate companion wished to be alone. He wrung Mr. Aubrey's hands in silence; and having turned in the direction of his hotel, Mr. Aubrey made for his lodgings. The streets were occupied by passengers, some returning from the Castle after the great trial of the day; others standing here and there, in little knots, conversing as he passed them; and he felt conscious that the subject of their thoughts and conversation was himself and his fallen fortunes. Several deep-drawn sighs escaped him, as he walked on, the herald of such dismal tidings, to those whom he loved; and he felt but for that which supported him from within, as it were, [Pg 11] a fallen angel, so far as concerned this world's honors and greatness. The splendors of human pomp and prosperity seemed rapidly vanishing in the distance. In the temporary