"If you mean, what are my terms—I will at once tell you:—they are terms on which I shall peremptorily insist; they have been long fixed in my own mind; I am quite inflexible; so help me Heaven, I will not vary from them a hair's breadth! I require first, to sit in Parliament for Yatton at the next election; and afterwards alternately with yourself; and secondly, that you immediately grant me an annuity for my life of two thousand pounds a-year on your"——
Titmouse sprang from the sofa, dashing his fist on the table, and uttering a frightful imprecation. He stood for a moment, and then threw himself desperately at full length on the sofa, muttering the same execration which had first issued from his lips. Gammon moved not a muscle, but fixed a steadfast eye on Titmouse; the two might have been compared to the affrighted rabbit, and the deadly boa-constrictor.
"It's all a swindle!—a d——d swindle!" at length he exclaimed, starting up into a sitting posture, and almost grinning defiance at Gammon.
"You're a swindler!"—he exclaimed vehemently.
"Possibly—but you, sir, are a BASTARD," replied Gammon, calmly. Titmouse looked the picture of horror, and trembled in every limb.
"It's a lie!—It's all a lie!"—he gasped.
"Sir, you are a bastard"—repeated Gammon, bitterly, and extending his forefinger threateningly towards Titmouse. Then he added with sudden vehemence—"Wretched miscreant—do you presume to tell me I lie? You base-born cur!"—a lightning glance shot from his eye; but he restrained himself. Titmouse sat at length as if petrified, while Gammon, in a low tone, and with fearful bitterness of manner, proceeded—"You the owner of Yatton? You the next Lord Drelincourt? No more than the helper in your stables! One breath of mine blights you forever—as an impostor—a mere audacious swindler—to be spit upon! to be kicked out of society—perhaps to be transported for life. Gracious Heavens! what will the Earl of Dreddlington say when he hears that his sole daughter and heiress is married to a——It will kill him, or he will kill you!"
"Two can play at that," whispered Titmouse, faintly—indeed almost inarticulately. There was nearly a minute's pause.