"Do you know I should doubt it! I never saw a man to whom it seemed to yield so easily.—He's a particularly gentlemanlike person, by the way; and there's something very attractive in his countenance. He seems highly connected."
"Oh—why, you've heard of the great cause of Doe d. Titmouse v. Jolter, a Yorkshire ejectment case, tried only last spring assizes?—That case, you know, about the effect of an erasure.—Well, he's the defendant, and has, I hear, lost everything."
"You astonish me! By Jove, then, he had need work!"
"Shall we set to work, Mr. Thoroughpace?" said Weasel, suddenly, looking at his watch lying on his desk. "I've promised to let them have these pleas by six o'clock—or the other side will be signing judgment;" and plunging his pen into the inkstand, to work he went, more suo, as if such a man as his pupil, Mr. Aubrey, had never existed. Weasel was not at all a hard-hearted man; but I verily believe that if a capias ad satisfaciendum (i. e. final process to take the body into custody to satisfy debt and costs) against Charles Aubrey, Esquire, had come into Mr. Weasel's chambers to be "settled" as requiring special accuracy—after humming and hawing a bit—and taking an extra pinch of snuff, he would have done his duty by the document faithfully, marked his seven-and-sixpence in the corner, and sent it out indifferently with other papers; consoling himself with this just reflection, that the thing must be done by somebody! and he might as well have the fee as any one else!
On Mr. Aubrey's return home to dinner, he found that his sister had received another long letter from Dr. Tatham, to which was appended a postscript mentioning Mr. Gammon in such terms as suggested to Mr. Aubrey a little scheme which he resolved to carry into effect on the morrow—namely, to call himself at the office of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, and seek an interview with Mr. Gammon, who, Dr. Tatham stated, had quitted Yatton for town only the day before the doctor had written to Miss Aubrey. After a very restless and unhappy night, during which he was tormented by all kinds of dismal dreams, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap figuring in each as the stern and mysterious arbiters of his earthly destiny, he resolved to put an end to his present insupportable suspense—to learn at once the extent of what he had either to hope or to fear—by calling that very afternoon at Saffron Hill. For that purpose, he quitted Mr. Weasel's at the early hour of three o'clock; and straightway bent his steps towards those delectable localities—through Fetter Lane to Hatton Garden, thence inquiring his way to Saffron Hill. He was not long in finding the house of which he was in quest, his eye being soon attracted by the great, gleaming brass-plate with the words "Quirk, Gammon, and Snap," as prominent and threatening as ever those names had appeared to Titmouse in the day of his agony and suspense. He had stood gazing at them with idiot longing and vulgar apprehension, as the reader has seen. How very different a person now looked at them with feelings of intense interest and overmastering anxiety, as at the names of those who had him completely in their power—his fortunes, his liberty, his livelihood, and that of the dear beings whose interests, whose all on earth, whose personal safety—were bound up in his! Mr. Aubrey, with a jaded air, dressed in a buttoned black surtout, and with an umbrella under his arm, entered the hall, where were sitting and standing several strange-looking people—one or two suffering evidently great agitation; in fact, relatives of prisoners whose trials for capital offences were coming on the next day at Newgate—and made his way into a room, on the door of which he read "Clerks' Room."
"Now, sir, your name and business?" said a showily dressed Jewish-looking youth, with copious curls, lolling at a desk from which he did not move, and speaking in a tone of very disagreeable assurance.
"Is Mr. Gammon within? my name is Aubrey," he added, taking off his hat; and there was a certain something in his voice, countenance, and bearing—a certain courtly superiority—which induced the personage whom he had addressed to slip off his stool, and exhibit as polite an air as he could possibly assume.
"Mr. Gammon is in his room, sir, and alone. I believe he is rather busy," said the youth, going towards Mr. Gammon's room—"but I've no doubt you can see him."
The fact was, that at that very moment Mr. Gammon was engaged drawing up "Instructions to prepare Declaration" in an action for mesne profits against Mr. Aubrey! He had only the day before returned from Yatton, where circumstances had occurred which had quickened their intended proceeding against that unfortunate gentleman—that being the first quarter to which, at Mr. Titmouse's suggestion, they were to look for a considerable supply of ready money. That morning, in the very room into which Mr. Aubrey was to be presently shown, had taken place a long discussion between Mr. Quirk and Mr. Gammon, on the very subject which had now brought to their office Mr. Aubrey. Mr. Quirk was for making short work of it—for "going straight a-head"—and getting the whole £60,000 or security for the greater portion, and £20,000 down! Gammon, however, was of opinion that that was mere madness; that by attempting to proceed to extremities against so unfortunate a sufferer as Mr. Aubrey, they could not fail of drawing down on themselves and their client universal execration—(at that, Quirk only grunted and grinned;) and, moreover, of driving Mr. Aubrey desperate, and forcing him either to quit the country, or accept the protection of the insolvent laws—at this Mr. Quirk looked serious enough. Gammon had, in the end, satisfied his senior partner that their only chance was in gentleness and moderation; and the old gentleman had, as usual, agreed to adopt the plan of operations suggested by Gammon. The latter personage had quite as keen a desire and firm determination as the former, to wring out of their wretched victim the very last farthing which there was the slightest probability of obtaining; for Titmouse had pointed to that quarter for the discharge of his ten thousand pound bond, and bill of costs (which—by the way—contained some three hundred items, slightly varied in language, which stood also charged in their bill to Mr. Aubrey!) then twenty—or at least fifteen thousand pounds, were to be handed over to himself, Titmouse; and all the rest that could be got, Mr. Gammon might appropriate to his own use. Such was the prospective partition of the spoil!—Mr. Gammon's inquiries into Mr. Aubrey's circumstances, had completely convinced him, however, that it would be impossible to extract any considerable sum from that unfortunate gentleman; and that if they could contrive to get payment of their bill against him—perhaps substantial security for a portion—say four or five thousand pounds—of the mesne profits; and his own personal responsibility for the payment of any portion of the remainder, hereafter—they had better rest satisfied—and look for liquidation of their own heavy claim, to a mortgage upon the Yatton estates. Mr. Gammon had also proposed to himself certain other objects, in dealing with Mr. Aubrey, than the mere extraction of money from him; and, in short, prompted by considerations such as those above intimated, he had come to the determination, an hour or so before Mr. Aubrey's most unexpected visit, to be at once prepared with the necessary means for setting in motion legal proceedings for the recovery of the arrear of mesne profits. But we are keeping Mr. Aubrey waiting, all this while, in the outer office.
"Have I the honor to address Mr. Gammon?" commenced Mr. Aubrey, courteously, on being shown into the room—not announced by name, but only as "a gentleman"—where Gammon sat busily engaged writing out the "Instructions" for framing the rack on which it was designed to extend his unconscious visitor!