The hookah dropped out of Titmouse's hand upon the floor, and he made no effort to pick it up, but sat staring at Gammon, with cheeks almost as white as his shirt-collar, and in blank dismay. "I perceive you are agitated, Mr. Titmouse," said Gammon, kindly. "By Jove--I should think so!" replied Titmouse, faintly; but he tried to assume an incredulous smile--in vain, however; and to such a pitch had his agitation reached, that he rose, opened a cabinet near him, and taking out from it a brandy-flask and a wine-glass, poured it out full, and drank it off. "You a'n't _joking_, Mr. Gammon, eh?" Again he attempted a sickly smile. "God forbid, Mr. Titmouse!" "Well--but," faltered Titmouse, "_why_ a'n't I entitled to it all? Hasn't the law given it to me? And can't the law do as it likes?" "No one on earth knows the _what_ and the _why_ of this matter but myself; and, if you choose, no one ever shall; nay, I will take care, if you come this morning to my terms, to deprive even myself of all means of proving what I can _now_ prove, at any moment I choose"---- "Lord, Mr. Gammon!" ejaculated Titmouse, passing his hand hastily over his damp forehead--his agitation visibly increasing. "What's to be the figure?" he faltered presently, and looked as if he dreaded to hear the answer. "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.