" and the quicksighted Gammon saw how matters stood at a glance—the process by which the result he had just witnessed had been arrived at.
"Well, Mr. Quirk, what new vagary now?" he inquired with an air of smiling curiosity.
"Vagary be——!" growled old Quirk, sullenly, without moving in his chair.
Gammon stood for a moment or two eying him with a keen scrutiny. "What!" at length he inquired good-humoredly, "do you then really grudge me any share in the little enterprise?"
"Eh?" quickly interrupted Quirk, pricking up his ears. "Do you intend to play Mackivel! eh? What must you go down alone to Yatton for, Gammon?" continued Quirk, anxiously.
"Why, simply as a sort of pioneer—to reconnoitre the churchyard—eh? I thought it might have been of service; but if"—
"Gammon, Gammon, your hand! I understand," replied Quirk, evidently vastly relieved—most cordially shaking the cold hand of Gammon.
"But understand, Mr. Quirk," said he, in a very peremptory manner, "no one upon earth is to know of my visit to Yatton except yourself."
He received a solemn pledge to that effect; and presently the partners separated, a little better satisfied with each other. Though not a word passed between them for several days afterwards on the topic chiefly discussed during the interview above described, the reader may easily imagine that neither of them dropped it from his thoughts. Mr. Quirk, shortly afterwards, paid one or two visits to the neighborhood of Houndsditch, (a perfect hotbed of clients to the firm,) where resided two or three gentlemen of the Jewish persuasion, who had been placed, from time to time, under considerable obligations by the firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, in respect of professional services rendered both to themselves and to their friends. One of them, in particular, had a painful consciousness that it was in old Mr. Quirk's power at any time by a whisper to place his—the aforesaid Israelite's—neck in an unsightly noose which every now and then might be seen dangling from a beam opposite Debtor's Door, Newgate, about eight o'clock in the morning; him, therefore, every consideration of interest and of gratitude combined to render subservient to the reasonable wishes of Mr. Quirk. He was a most ingenious little fellow, and had a great taste for the imitative arts—so strong in fact, that it had once or twice placed him in some jeopardy with the Goths and Vandals of the law; who characterized the noble art in which he excelled, by a very ugly and formidable word, and annexed the most barbarous penalties to its practice. What passed between him and old Quirk on the occasion of their interviews, I know not; but one afternoon, the latter, on returning to his office, without saying anything to anybody, having bolted the door, took out of his pocket several little pieces of paper, containing pretty little picturesque devices of a fragmentary character, with antique letters and figures on them—crumbling pieces of stone, some looking more and some less sunk in the ground, and overgrown with grass; possibly they were designs for ornaments to be added to that tasteful structure, Alibi House—possibly intended to grace Miss Quirk's album. However this might be, after he had looked at them, and carefully compared them one with another, for some time, he folded them up in a sheet of paper, sealed it—with certainly not the steadiest hand in the world—and then deposited it in an iron safe.