y understanding. _Ten Thousand a-Year!_--it could never be meant for
the like of _him_! He soon worked himself into a conviction that the
whole thing was infinitely too good to be true; the affair was
desperate; it had been all moonshine; for some cunning purpose or
another, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, had been--ah, here he was
within a few yards of their residence, the scene of last night's tragic
transactions! As he passed Saffron Hill, he paused, looked up towards
the blessed abode,

"Where centred all his hopes and fears,"--

uttered a profound sigh, and passed slowly on towards Smithfield. The
words "_Quirk, Gammon, and Snap_," seemed to be written over every
shop-window which he passed--their images filled his mind's eye. What
could they be at? They had been all very polite and friendly at
first--and of their own seeking: but he had affronted them. How coldly
and proudly they had parted with him over-night, although they had
professed themselves reconciled to him! It was evident that they would
stand no nonsense--they were great lawyers; so he must (if they really
would allow him to see them again) eat humble pie cheerfully till he had
got all that they had to give him. How he dreaded the coming night!
Perhaps they intended civilly to tell him that, since seeing him, they
would have nothing more to do with him; they would get the estate for
themselves, or some one else who would be more manageable! They had
taken care to tell him nothing at all about the nature of his
pretensions to this grand fortune. Oh, how crafty they were--they had
it all their own way!--But what, after all, had he really done? The
estates were his, if they were really in earnest--his and no one's else;
and why should he be kept out of them at their will and pleasure?
Suppose he were to say he would give them all he was entitled to for
L20,000 down, in cash? Oh no; on second thoughts, that would be only two
years' income! But on the other hand--he dared hardly even propose it to
his thoughts--still, suppose it _should_ really all turn out true!
Goodness gracious!--that day two months he might be riding about in his
carriage in the Parks, and poor devils looking on at _him_, as he now
looked on all those who now rode there. There he would be, holding up
his head with the best of them, instead of slaving as he was that
moment, carrying about that cursed bundle--ough! how he shrunk with
disgust as he changed its position, to relieve hi