Here a bold stroke occurred to Mr. Gammon: what if he were himself, as it were, to take the bull by the horns--to be beforehand with Titmouse, and apprise the earl of the frightful calamity which had befallen him and his daughter? Gammon's whole frame vibrated with the bare imagining of the scene which would probably ensue. But what would be the practical use to be made of it? The first shock over, if, indeed, the old man survived it--would not the possession of such a secret give Gammon a complete hold upon the earl, and render him, in effect, obedient to his wishes? CHAPTER IV. The object which Gammon had originally proposed to himself, and unwaveringly fixed his eye upon amid all the mazy tortuosities of his course, since taking up the cause of Tittlebat Titmouse, was his own permanent establishment in the upper sphere of society; conscious that, above all, could he but once emerge into political life, his energies would insure him speedy distinction. With an independent income of £2,000 a-year, he felt that he should be standing on sure ground. But even above and beyond this, there was one dazzling object of his hopes and wishes, which, unattained, would, on several accounts, render all others comparatively valueless--a union with Miss Aubrey. His heart fluttered within him at the bare notion of such an event. What effect would be produced upon that beautiful, that pure, high-minded, but haughty creature--for haughty to _him_ had Kate Aubrey ever appeared--by a knowledge that he, Gammon, possessed the means--Bah! accursed Titmouse!--thought Gammon, his cheek suddenly blanching as he recollected that through him _those means_ no longer existed.--Stay!--Unless, indeed--...--which would, however, be all but impossible--perilous in the extreme! Absorbed with these reflections, he started on being accosted by the footman of the Earl of Dreddlington; who, observing Gammon, had ordered his carriage to draw up, to enable his Lordship to speak to him. It was the end of Oxford Street nearest to the City. "Sir--Mr. Gammon--good-day, sir!"--commenced the earl, with a slight appearance of disappointment, and even displeasure, "pray, has anything unfortunate happened"---- "Unfortunate! I beg your Lordship's pardon"----interrupted Gammon, coloring visibly, and gazing with surprise at the earl. "You do not _generally_, Mr. Gammon, forget your appointments. The marquis, I, and the gentlemen of the Direction, have been waiting for you in vain at the office for a whole hour." "Good Heavens! my Lord--I am confounded!" said Gammon, suddenly recollecting the engagement he had made with the earl: "I have forgotten everything in a sudden fit of indisposition, with which I have been seized at the house of a client at Bayswater. I can but apologize, my Lord"----