"That cursed curtain is so much in the light," said Titmouse, looking up; and going towards it, as if to draw it aside, he started suddenly away from Gammon, and with frenzied gestures tore the little papers to pieces with inconceivable rapidity, and flung them out of the window, where a brisk breeze instantly took them up, and scattered them abroad--the glistening fragments--never to be again reunited. Having performed this astounding feat, he instantly turned round, and leaning his back against the window, gazed at Gammon with a desperate air of mingled apprehension and triumph, but spoke not a word. Nor did Gammon; but--oh the dreadful look with which he regarded Titmouse while slowly approaching towards him! who, stepping aside, as Gammon advanced, reached the cabinet, and with desperate rapidity threw open the door, and, as if the devil had been waiting his bidding, in a moment turned round upon Gammon with a pistol. "So help me God, I'll fire!" gasped Titmouse, cocking and presenting it--"I will--I WILL--_One!_--_Two!_--For God's sake! be off!--It's loaded, and no mistake!--If I say _Th_--I'll fire, if I'm hanged for it!" "Booby! You may put your pistol down, sir!" said Gammon, calmly and resolutely, a contemptuous smile passing over his whitened features. "Demme!--distance!--Keep your distance!" cried Titmouse, his voice quivering with agitation. "Ridiculous simpleton!--You poor rogue!" said Gammon, laughingly. There was, however, _murder_ in his smile; and Titmouse instinctively perceived it. He kept his deadly weapon pointed full at Gammon's breast, but his hand trembled violently. 'T was wonderful that some chance motion of the shaking finger of Titmouse, did not send a bullet through Mr. Gammon's heart. He stood, for a minute or two, gazing steadfastly, and without moving, at Titmouse; and then, shrugging his shoulders, with a bitter smile returned to his chair, and resumed his seat. Titmouse, however, refused to follow his example. "So help me God, sir! I will not hurt a hair of your head," said Gammon, earnestly. Still Titmouse remained at the window, pistol in hand. "Why should I hurt you? What have you _now_ to fear, you little idiot?" inquired Gammon, impatiently. "Do you, then, really think you have injured me? Do you positively think me so great a fool, my friend, as really to have trusted you with the precious originals, of which those were only the copies?--Copies which I can replace in a minute or two's time! The originals, believe me, are far away, and safe enough under lock and key!" "I--I--I don't believe you," gasped Titmouse, dropping the hand that held the pistol, and speaking in a truly dismal tone.