ide down."

"I--I hope, mem, I haven't done anything to show that _I_"----

"Oh! my dear Titmouse," anxiously interrupted Tag-rag, inwardly cursing
his wife, who, finding she always went wrong in her husband's eyes
whenever she spoke a word, determined for the future to stick to her
negus--"The fact is, there's a Mr. Horror here that's for sending all
decent people to----. He's filled my wife there with all sorts of----
nay, if she isn't bursting with cant--so never mind her! _You_ done
anything wrong! I _will_ say this for you--you always was a pattern of
modesty and propriety--your hand, my dear Titmouse!"

"Well--I'm a happy man again," resumed Titmouse, resolved now to go on
with his adventure. "And when did they tell you of it, sir?"

"Oh, a few days ago--a week ago," replied Tag-rag, trying to recollect.

"Why--why--sir--a'n't you mistaken?" inquired Titmouse, with a
depressed, but at the same time a surprised air. "It only happened this
morning, after you left"----

"Eh?--eh?--ah, ha!--What _do_ you mean, Mr. Titmouse?" interrupted
Tag-rag, with a faint attempt at a smile. Mrs. Tag-rag and Miss Tag-rag
also turned exceedingly startled faces towards Titmouse, who felt as if
a house were going to fall down on him.

"Why, sir," he began to cry, (an attempt which was greatly aided by the
maudlin condition to which drink had reduced him,) "till to-day, I
thought I was heir to ten thousand a-year, and it seems I'm not; it's
all a mistake of those cursed people at Saffron Hill!"

Tag-rag's face changed visibly, and showed the desperate shock he had
just sustained. His inward agony was forcing out on his slanting
forehead a dew of perspiration.

"What--a--capital--joke--Mr.--Titmouse--ah, ha!"--he gasped, hastily
passing his handkerchief over his forehead. Titmouse, though greatly
alarmed, stood to his gun pretty steadily.

"I--I wish it was a joke! It's been no joke to _me_, sir. There's
another Tittlebat Titmouse, it seems, in Shoreditch, that's the
right"----

"Who told you this, sir? Pho, I don't--I can't believe it," said
Tag-rag, in a voice tremulous between suppressed rage and fear.

"Too true, though, 'pon my life! It _is_, so help me----!" in the most
earnest and solemn manner.

"How dare you swear before ladies, sir? You're insulting them, sir!"
cried Tag-rag, trembling with rage. "And in _my_ presence, too, sir?
You're not a gentleman!" He suddenly dropped his voice, and in a
trembling and almo