"I perfectly understand you, Mr. Aubrey," replied Gammon, in the same grave and guarded manner which he had preserved throughout their interview. "I shall offer no apology, sir, for conduct which I do not feel to require one. I conceive that I had a perfect right to make, with all due deference and respect, the offer which it appears has given you so much offence; for reasons, it may be, which justify you, but which I cannot speculate upon, nor do I wish to do so. It is impossible ever to see Miss Aubrey without becoming sensible of her loveliness, both of person and character. I have paid them homage: for the rest, the issue is simply—unfortunate. While I may not feel disposed, even if inclined, to disregard your strict and solemn injunctions, I take leave to say that my feelings towards Miss Aubrey cannot alter; and if in no other way they can be gratified, there is yet one which"—here he looked greatly moved, and changed color—"yet remains open to me, to exhibit my regard for her in a tenfold anxiety to preserve her—to preserve all of you, Mr. Aubrey, from the approach of difficulty and danger. That much Miss Aubrey may have also told to you, of what passed between us yesterday." He paused—from emotion apparently; but he was only considering intently whether he should endeavor to ascertain if Mr. Aubrey had been put by his sister in possession of his—Gammon's, last communication to her; and then, however that might be, whether he should himself break the matter to Mr. Aubrey. But he decided both questions in the negative, and proceeded, with a little excitement of manner—"There are dangers menacing you, I grieve to say, Mr. Aubrey, of the most serious description, which I may possibly be unable to avert from you! I fear I am losing that hold upon others which has enabled me hitherto to save you from rapacity and oppression! I regret to say that I can answer for others no longer; but all that man can do, still will I do. I have been most bitterly—most fearfully disappointed; but you shall ever find me a man of my word—of as high and rigid honor, perhaps, even, Mr. Aubrey, as yourself"—he paused, and felt that he had made an impression on his silent auditor—"and I hereby pledge myself, in the presence of God, that so far as in me lies, there shall not a hair of any of your heads be touched." Again he paused. "I wish, Mr. Aubrey, you knew the pressure which has been for some time upon me—nay, even this very morning"——he cast a melancholy and reluctant eye towards the letters which he had gathered up, and which he had placed beside him on the breakfast-table—"I have received a letter—here it is—I know the handwriting; I almost dread to open it." Mr. Aubrey changed color.
"I am at a loss to know to what, in particular, you are alluding, Mr. Gammon?" he interrupted anxiously.
"I will not at present say more on the subject; I devoutly hope my negotiations may be successful, and that the affair may not for many months, or even years, be forced upon your attention! Still, were I to do so, one effect, at least, it would have—to satisfy you of my honorable and disinterested motives in the offer which I presumed to make Miss Aubrey."
"Well, sir," replied Mr. Aubrey, with a melancholy air, and sighing deeply, "I can only place my trust in Providence—and I do. I have suffered much already; and if it be the will of Heaven that I should suffer more, I hope it will be proved that I have not suffered already—in vain!"
"Mr. Aubrey," said Gammon, gazing at him with a brightening eye, "my very soul owns the sublime presence of VIRTUE, in your person! It is exalting—it is ennobling—merely to be permitted to witness so heroic an example of constancy as you exhibit!"—He paused, and for some moments there was silence—"You do not distrust me, Mr. Aubrey?" said Gammon, at length, with a confident air.
"No, Mr. Gammon!" replied Mr. Aubrey, eying him steadfastly. "I'm not aware that I ever had any reason for doing so."
Shortly afterwards he took his departure; and as he bent his steps slowly, and with thoughtful air, towards the Temple, he saw one or two things, on his own part, during his interview with Gammon, to regret—namely, his sternness and pride; but nothing on the part of Gammon, that had not been admirable. Could Mr. Aubrey, however, but have seen the satanic smile which settled upon Mr. Gammon's features, as soon as, after cordially shaking his hand, he calmly shut the door upon Mr. Aubrey, it might have occasioned some few misgivings as to Mr. Gammon's sincerity. He resumed his seat, and meditated upon their recent interview. Almost the first glance which he had caught of Mr. Aubrey's countenance, and the very first tones of his voice which had fallen on Gammon's ear, had inspired him with a deadly animosity against poor Aubrey, whose pride Gammon resolved to trample upon and crush into the dust. He was acquainted with the state of Aubrey's little finances, almost to a pound; for Aubrey had, under the circumstances, felt it even a duty to be frank with him upon that subject. He turned over in his mind, with great anxiety, the matter of the two promissory notes for five thousand pounds each, which he held in his hands, and which would be the best mode of setting into motion, but with the hands of another, those two dreadful instruments of torture and oppression—which, judiciously applied, might have the effect of humbling the pride and breaking the determination of Aubrey and of his sister. Long he considered the subject, in every point of view; and at length—"Ay, that will do!" said he to himself aloud; sighed, smiled, and gently tapped his fingers upon his ample forehead. Shortly afterwards, having ordered his laundress to take away the breakfast things, he took pen, ink, and paper, and sketched off the following draft of a letter, to be copied by Mr. Quirk, and signed in the name of the firm, and sent, Gammon finally determined, early in the ensuing week:—
"Saffron Hill, 9th July 18—.
"Dear Sir,—Owing to a most serious and unexpected pecuniary outlay which we are called upon to make, we feel ourselves compelled to avail ourselves of whatever resources lie within our reach. Having been disappointed in several quarters, we are obliged to remind you of the heavy balance we have against you of £1,446, 14s. 6d. You must be aware of the length of time during which it has been standing; and trust you will forgive us if we at length apprise you that it is absolutely impossible for us to allow of any more delay. Unless, therefore, the whole of the above balance, or at least £1,000 of it, be paid within three days of the date hereof, we regret to inform you we have finally made up our minds to let the law take its usual course. We feel the less hesitation in saying thus much, because we are persuaded that, with a little exertion, you might long ago have liquidated this heavy balance, or the greater part thereof." (Mr. Gammon wrote as nearly in the peculiar style of Mr. Quirk as he could.)
"In writing thus, Messrs. Quirk and Snap feel it only due to their partner, Mr. Gammon, to add that he is no party to this application. Messrs. Q. and S. have felt, however, in making it, that the interests of the firm have already suffered long enough, through their deference to the personal wishes and feelings of one of the members of the firm; and but for whom, their heavy balance would have been called for long ago, and, no doubt, in due course discharged.