Gammon's deeds were ready for signing_--as he, Titmouse, was anxious to get it off his mind. Time was very precious with Mr. Gammon; he therefore lost not a moment in plucking aside the thin disguise of Titmouse, and discovering the real object of his visit. Mr. Gammon looked very serious indeed, on hearing the account of Titmouse's prodigal expenditure, and remonstrated with him earnestly, and even authoritatively; but it instantly occurred to him--could there possibly be a better opportunity for broaching the subject of the two promissory notes? "My dear Titmouse," said he, with great kindness of manner, "notwithstanding all I have felt it my duty to say, I do sincerely wish it were in my power to serve you in this emergency. But we really must spare old Yatton for a little--you've sadly burdened her already;--we shall be killing the goose to get at the golden egg, if we don't mind what we're about!" "----! But what the devil's to be _done_, Mr. Gammon? For, 'pon my soul, I'm most _particular_ hard up, and _something_ must be done." "We must bethink ourselves of our other resources, my dear Titmouse!--let us see"--he paused, with his hand resting on his forehead for a few moments--"Oh! by the way--certainly," he added suddenly--"but no! it's a thousand pities; but my word is pledged." "Eh? what? does anything strike you, Gammon?--'Pon my life, what is it?" inquired Titmouse, pricking up his ears. "Why, yes, certainly," replied Gammon, musingly--adding, as if he did not intend Titmouse to hear him, "to be sure, it would put ten thousand--nay, with the interest, nearly eleven"---- "The devil it would! _What_ would? My stars, Mr. Gammon!" exclaimed Titmouse, eagerly--"Do let us know what it is!" "Why, I was certainly thinking, at the moment," replied Gammon, with a sigh, "of that poor devil Aubrey's two notes for £5,000 a-piece and interest." Titmouse's face suddenly fell. "Oh Lord! Is that all? Hang the fellow--he's a beggar--squeezed dry--nothing more to be got out of him!" he exclaimed with mingled chagrin and contempt. "A'n't worth powder and shot! Blood from a stone!--won't have anything worth taking this ten years to come!" "Poor fellow!" quoth Gammon. "'Pon my soul, Gammon, it's _me_ you may say that of, I rather think!" "Why," said Gammon, glancing rather keenly at Titmouse, "my first and greatest duty on earth, my dear Titmouse, is to _you_--to look after, to secure your interests; and candor compels me to say, that, whatever may be my feelings towards that unfortunate person, still, I think, you've only to squeeze _him_ pretty hard, and blood would come from _other_ people. Eh! you understand?"