"We've put an ape into possession of Paradise—that's all"—said Gammon, absently and half aloud, and bitterly and contemptuously.
"Humph!—what of that?" said Mr. Quirk—"It answers our purposes, at any rate! By the way, Gammon, you see what's said about our bill—eh? The sooner it's made out the better, I should say—and—ahem! hem!—while Mr. Aubrey's on the tight rope he won't think of looking down at the particular items, will he? I should say, now's our time; and we should strike while the iron's hot! I've got rather a stiff entry, I can assure you. I must say Snap's done his duty; and I've not had my eyes shut—or my pen idle! You know one must live in these hard times—eh?" Here Mr. Quirk winked very knowingly.
"You must not overdo it, Mr. Quirk—but all that I leave, as usual, to your admirable management, as to that of a first-rate man of business. You know I'm a sad hand at accounts; but you and Snap are perfect adepts—in short, I'm satisfied you'll do all that should be done."
"Ay, ay, trust us!" interrupted Quirk, quickly, with a significant nod, and fancying himself and Snap already at work, plundering the poor Aubreys. "And, by the way, Gammon, there are the mesne profits—that's a mighty fine postscript of theirs, isn't it?" and replacing his spectacles, he read it over aloud. "All my eye, of course!" he added, as he laid down the letter—"but I suppose one must give 'em a little time; it is a little hard on him just at present; but then, to be sure, that's his look-out—not ours, or Titmouse's!—Off-hand, I should say we ought to be content with—say—twenty thousand down, and the rest within two years, so as to give him time to look about him a little"——
"That will be quite an after consideration," said Mr. Gammon, who, for the last few minutes, had appeared lost in thought.
"Egad—an after consideration? Hang me if I think so, Gammon! There's a certain bond—eh? don't you recollect"——
"I assure you, Mr. Quirk, that my eye is fixed quite as steadily and anxiously on that point as yours," said Gammon, gravely.
"Thank you—thank you, Gammon!" replied Quirk, with the air of a man suddenly relieved from apprehension—"it couldn't possibly be in better hands. Lud—to go wrong there! It would send me to my grave at a hand gallop—it would, so help me Heaven, Gammon!—Titmouse—by the way—is a queer hand to deal with—isn't he? Wasn't he strange and bumptious the other day? Egad, it made me quake! Need we tell him, just yet," he dropped his voice, "of the letter we've got? Couldn't we safely say only that they have sent us word that we shall have Yatton by the 17th of next month?"
"Very great caution is necessary, Mr. Quirk, just now"——