As soon as Titmouse had been ejected from the court, in the summary way which the reader will recollect, merely on account of his having, with some slight indecorum, yielded to the mighty impulse of his agitated feelings, he began to cry bitterly, wringing his hands, and asking every one about him if they thought he could get in again, because it was "_his_ case" that was going on. His eyes were red and swollen with weeping; and his little breast throbbed violently as he walked to and fro from one door of the court to the other. "Oh, gents, will you get me in again?" said he, in passionate tones, approaching two gentlemen, who, with a very anxious and oppressed air, were standing together at the outside of one of the doors--in fact, Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Aubrey; and they quickly recognized in Titmouse the gentleman whose claims were being at that instant mooted within the court. "_Will_ you get me in? You seem such _respectable_ gents--'Pon my soul I'm going mad! It's my case that's going on! I'm Mr. Titmouse"---- "We have no power, sir, to get you in," replied Lord De la Zouch, haughtily: so coldly and sternly as to cause Titmouse involuntarily to shrink from him. "The court is crowded to the very door, sir--and we really have no more right to be present in court, or get others into court, than you have," said Mr. Aubrey, with mildness and dignity. "Thank you, sir! Thank you!" quoth Titmouse, moving with an apprehensive air away from Lord De la Zouch, towards Mr. Aubrey, "Know quite well who you are, sir! 'Pon my solemn soul, sir, sorry to do all this; but law's law, and right's right, all the world over!"