If Mr. Gammon had seen the watchful eyes at that moment settled upon him, by two persons who were approaching him, and who passed him unobserved; and could have dreamed of the errand which had brought those two persons into that part of the town--it might have set his busy brain upon quite a new track of harassing conjecture and apprehension. But he was far too intently occupied with his thoughts to notice any one, as he walked slowly down Holborn; and some five minutes afterwards, having got to within a hundred yards of Saffron Hill, he was startled out of his meditations by hearing a voice calling out his name--and looking towards the middle of the street, whence the sound came, beheld Mr. Titmouse, beckoning to him eagerly, out of a hackney-coach, which was slowly driving up Holborn, and at Titmouse's bidding drew up to the curb-stone. "Oh--I say! Mr. Gammon!--'pon my life--_here's_ a precious mess!--Such a devil of a row!"--commenced Titmouse, alarmedly, speaking in a low voice through the coach window. "What, sir?" inquired Gammon, sternly. "Why, eh? heard of it? Lady Cicely"---- "I _have_ heard of it, sir," replied Gammon, gloomily--"and I have, in my turn, something of far greater consequence to tell you.--Let the coachman turn back and drive you to my chambers, where I will meet you in a quarter of an hour's time." "Oh Lord! Won't you get in and tell me _now_?--Do, Mr. Gam"---- "No, sir!" replied Gammon, almost fiercely, and walked away, leaving Titmouse in a pretty fright.