"This is a very beautiful picture, Mr. Titmouse, isn't it?" said Gammon, leading him to the farther corner of the drawing-room, where hung a small picture, with a sort of curtain of black gauze before it. Gammon lifted it up; and Titmouse beheld a picture of a man suspended from the gallows, his hands tied with cords before him, his head forced aside, and covered down to the chin with a white nightcap. 'Twas done with sickening fidelity; and Titmouse gazed at it with a shudder. "Charming thing, isn't it?" said Gammon, with a very expressive smile. "Y--e--e--s," replied Titmouse, his eyes glued to the horrid object. "Very striking thing, that--a'n't it?" quoth Quirk, bustling up to them; "'twas painted for me by a first-rate artist, whose brother I _very nearly_ saved from the gallows! _Like_ such things?" he inquired with a matter-of-fact air, drawing down the black gauze. "Yes, sir, uncommon--most uncommon!" quoth Titmouse, shuddering. "Well, I'll show you something most particular interesting! Heard of Gilderoy, that was hanged for forgery? Gad, my daughter's got a brooch with a lock of his hair in it, which he gave me himself--a client of mine; within an ace of getting him off--flaw in the indictment--found it out myself--did, by gad! Come along, and I'll get Dora to show it to you!" and, putting Titmouse's arm in his, and desirous of withdrawing him from Gammon, he led him up to the interesting young lady. "Dora," said Mr. Quirk--"just show my friend Titmouse that brooch of yours, with Gilderoy's hair." "Oh, my dear papa, 't is such a melancholy thing!" said she, at the same time detaching it from her dress, and handing it to her papa, who, holding it in his hands, gave Titmouse, and one or two others who stood beside, a very interesting account of the last hours of the deceased Gilderoy. "He was _very_ handsome, papa, wasn't he?" inquired Miss Quirk, with a sigh, and a very pensive air. "Wasn't bad-looking; but good looks and the condemned cell don't long agree together, _I_ can tell you!--Had many"---- "Ah, papa!" exclaimed Miss Quirk, in a mournful tone, and, leaning back in the sofa, raised her handkerchief to her eyes. "You are too sensitive, my love!" whispered her aunt, Mrs. Alias, squeezing the hand of her niece, who, struggling against her feelings, presently revived. "We were looking just now," said Mr. Hug, addressing Mr. Quirk, "at a very interesting addition to Miss Quirk's splendid album--that letter of Grizzlegut." "Ah, very striking! Value it beyond everything! Shall never forget Grizzlegut! Very nearly got him off! 'T was an '&c.' that nearly saved his life, through being omitted in the indictment. 'Fore gad, we thought we'd got 'em!"