"Pause," continued Gammon, in a low vehement tone and manner, "and you are lost--stripped of this gaudy dress--turned out of this splendid house into the streets, or a prison!--If I quit this room--and I will not wait much longer--without your plain and written consent to my terms, I shall go direct to my Lord Dreddlington, and tell him the obscure and base-born impostor that has crept"---- "Oh, Mr. Gammon--Mr. Gammon! have mercy on me!" exclaimed Titmouse, shaking like an aspen-leaf--at length realizing the terrible extent of danger impending over him. "Have mercy on yourself!" rejoined Gammon, sternly. "I will!--I'll do all you ask--I will, so help me----!" "I'm glad to hear it!" said Gammon, relaxing his hold of Titmouse; and, in a voice of returning kindness, adding--"Oh, Titmouse, Titmouse! how fearful would be the scene--when your noble father-in-law--alas! you must have quitted the country! His Lordship would have instantly divorced you from the Lady Cecilia!" "You can't think how I love Lady Cicely!" exclaimed Titmouse, in a broken voice. "Ay--but would she love _you_, if she knew who and what you were?" "Oh Lord! oh Lord! I love Lady Cicely! I love Lady Cicely!" "Then get pen, ink, and paper, if you would not lose her forever!" "Here they are, Mr. Gammon!" exclaimed Titmouse, hastily stepping to his desk which lay on the table; and with tremulous eagerness he got out a quire of writing-paper and took a pen. "Suppose _you_ write, Mr. Gammon," said he, suddenly--"my hand trembles so! Lord! I feel so sick, I'll sign anything you like!" "Perhaps it would be better," replied Gammon, sitting down, and dipping his pen into the inkstand; "it may save time." He commenced writing; and, as he went on, said at intervals--"Yes, Titmouse! Thank God, all is now over! It shall no longer be in Lord Dreddlington's power--no, nor any one's--to beggar you--to transport you--to take your noble wife from you"---- "Oh, no, no! You know Lady Cicely's taken me for better for worse, for richer for poorer!" interrupted Titmouse, in a sort of agony of apprehension. "Ah, Titmouse! But she did not know, when she said that, that she was speaking to a"---- "What! wouldn't it have held good?" exclaimed Titmouse, perfectly aghast. "We need not speculate on a case that cannot arise, my dear Titmouse," replied Gammon, eying him steadfastly, and then resuming his writing.--"This paper becomes, as they say at sea, your sheet-anchor!--Here you shall remain--the owner of Yatton--of this splendid house--husband of Lady Cecilia--a member of Parliament--and in due time, as 'my Lord Drelincourt,' take your place permanently in the Upper House of Parliament, among the hereditary legislators of your country. Now, Mr. Titmouse, sign your name, and there's an end forever of all your unhappiness!" Titmouse eagerly took the pen, and, with a very trembling hand affixed his signature to what Gammon had written. "You'll sign it too, eh?" he inquired timidly.