CHAPTER IX.
----"Ah, Montague, If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile! Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst, Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood That glues my lips, and will not let me speak. Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead."
KING HENRY VI.
Sir Wycherly had actually been seized with a fit of apoplexy. It was thefirst serious disease he had experienced in a long life of health andprosperity; and the sight of their condescending, good-humored, andindulgent master, in a plight so miserable, had a surprising effect onthe heated brains of all the household. Mr. Rotherham, a goodthree-bottle man, on emergency, had learned to bleed, and fortunatelythe vein he struck, as his patient still lay on the floor, where he hadfallen, sent out a stream that had the effect not only to restore thebaronet to life, but, in a great measure, to consciousness. Sir Wycherlywas not a _hard_ drinker, like Dutton; but he was a _fair_ drinker, likeMr. Rotherham, and most of the beneficed clergy of that day. Want ofexercise, as he grew older, had as much influence in producing hisattack as excess of wine; and there were already, strong hopes of hissurviving it, aided as he was, by a good constitution. The apothecaryhad reached the Hall, within five minutes after the attack, havingluckily been prescribing to the gardener; and the physician and surgeonof the family were both expected in the course of the morning.
Sir Gervaise Oakes had been acquainted with the state of his host, byhis own valet, as soon as it was known in the servants'-hall, and beinga man of action, he did not hesitate to proceed at once to the chamberof the sick, to offer his own aid, in the absence of that which might bebetter. At the door of the chamber, he met Atwood, who had been summonedfrom his pen, and they entered together, the vice-admiral feeling for alancet in his pocket, for he, too, had acquired the art of theblood-letter. They now learned the actual state of things.
"Where is Bluewater?" demanded Sir Gervaise, after regarding his host amoment with commiseration and concern. "I hope he has not yet left thehouse."
"He is still here, Sir Gervaise, but I should think on the point ofquitting us. I heard him say, that, notwithstanding all Sir Wycherly'skind plans to detain him, he intended to sleep in his own ship."
"That I've never doubted, though I've affected to believe otherwise. Goto him, Atwood, and say I beg he will pull within hail of thePlantagenet, as he goes off, and desire Mr. Magrath to come ashore, assoon as possible. There shall be a conveyance at the landing to bringhim here; and he may order his own surgeon to come also, if it beagreeable to himself."
With these instructions the secretary left the room; while Sir Gervaiseturned to Tom Wychecombe, and said a few of the words customary on suchmelancholy occasions.
"I think there is hope, sir," he added, "yes, sir, I think there ishope; though your honoured relative is no longer young--still, thisearly bleeding has been a great thing; and if we can gain a little timefor poor Sir Wycherly, our efforts will not be thrown away. Sudden deathis awful, sir, and few of us are prepared for it, either in mind, oraffairs. We sailors have to hold our lives in our hands, it is true, butthen it is for king and country; and we hope for mercy on all who fallin the discharge of their duties. For my part, I am never unprovidedwith a will, and that disposes of all the interests of this world, whileI humbly trust in the Great Mediator, for the hereafter. I hope SirWycherly is equally provident as to his worldly affairs?"
"No doubt my dear uncle could wish to leave certain trifling memorialsbehind him to a few of his intimates," returned Tom, with a dejectedcountenance; "but he has not been without a will, I believe, for sometime; and I presume you will agree with me in thinking he is not in acondition to make one, now, were he unprovided in that way?"
"Perhaps not exactly at this moment, though a rally might afford anopportunity. The estate is entailed, I think Mr. Dutton told me, atdinner."
"It is, Sir Gervaise, and I am the unworthy individual who is to profitby it, according to the common notions of men, though Heaven knows Ishall consider it any thing but a gain; still, I am the unworthyindividual who is to be benefited by my uncle's death."
"Your father was the baronet's next brother?" observed Sir Gervaise,casually, a shade of distrust passing athwart his mind, though comingfrom what source, or directed to what point, he was himself totallyunable to say. "Mr. Baron Wychecombe, I believe, was your parent?"
"He was, Sir Gervaise, and a most tender and indulgent father, I everfound him. He left me his earnings, some seven hundred a year, and I amsure the death of Sir Wycherly is as far from my necessities, as it isfrom my wishes."
"Of course you will succeed to the baronetcy, as well as to the estate?"mechanically asked Sir Gervaise, led on by the supererogatoryexpressions of Tom, himself, rather than by a vulgar curiosity, to askquestions that, under other circumstances, he might have thoughtimproper.
"Of course, sir. My father was the only surviving brother of SirWycherly; the only one who ever married; and I am _his_ eldest child.Since this melancholy event has occurred, it is quite fortunate that Ilately obtained this certificate of the marriage of my parents--is itnot, sir?"
Here Tom drew from his pocket a soiled piece of paper, which professedto be a certificate of the marriage of Thomas Wychecombe, barrister,with Martha Dodd, spinster, &c. &c. The document was duly signed by therector of a parish church in Westminster, and bore a date sufficientlyold to establish the legitimacy of the person who held it. Thisextraordinary precaution produced the very natural effect of increasingthe distrust of the vice-admiral, and, in a slight degree, of giving ita direction.
"You go well armed, sir," observed Sir Gervaise, drily. "Is it yourintention, when you succeed, to carry the patent of the baronetcy, andthe title-deeds, in your pocket?"
"Ah! I perceive my having this document strikes you as odd, SirGervaise, but it can be easily explained. There was a wide difference inrank between my parents, and some ill-disposed persons have presumed sofar to reflect on the character of my mother, as to assert she was notmarried at all."
"In which case, sir, you would do well to cut off half-a-dozen of theirears."
"The law is not to be appeased in that way, Sir Gervaise. My dear parentused to inculcate on me the necessity of doing every thing according tolaw; and I endeavour to remember his precepts. He avowed his marriage onhis death-bed, made all due atonement to my respected and injuredmother, and informed me in whose hands I should find this verycertificate; I only obtained it this morning, which fact will accountfor its being in my pocket, at this melancholy and unexpected crisis, inmy beloved uncle's constitution."
The latter part of Tom's declaration was true enough; for, after havingmade all the necessary inquiries, and obtained the hand-writing of aclergyman who was long since dead, he had actually forged thecertificate that day, on a piece of soiled paper, that bore thewater-mark of 1720. His language, however, contributed to alienate theconfidence of his listener; Sir Gervaise being a man who was so muchaccustomed to directness and fair-dealing, himself, as to feel disgustat any thing that had the semblance of cant or hypocrisy. Nevertheless,he had his own motives for pursuing the subject; the presence of neitherat the bed-side of the sufferer, being just then necessary.
"And this Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe," he said; "he who has so muchdistinguished himself of late; your uncle's namesake;--is it true thathe is not allied to your family?"
"Not in the least, Sir Gervaise," answered Tom, with one of his sinistersmiles. "He is only a Virginian, you know, sir, and cannot well belongto us. I have heard my uncle say, often, that the young gentleman mustbe descended from an old servant of his father's, who was transportedfor stealing silver out of a shop on Ludgate Hill, and who was arrestedfor passing himself off, as one of the Wychecombe family. They tell me,Sir Gervaise, that the colonies are pretty much made of personsdescended from that sort of ancestors?"
"I cannot say that I have found it so; though, when I commanded afrigate, I served s
everal years on the North American station. Thelarger portion of the Americans, like much the larger portion of theEnglish, are humble labourers, established in a remote colony, wherecivilization is not far advanced, wants are many, and means few; but, inthe way of character, I am not certain that they are not quite on alevel with those they left behind them; and, as to the gentry of thecolonies, I have seen many men of the best blood of the mother countryamong them;--younger sons, and their descendants, as a matter of course,but of an honourable and respected ancestry."
"Well, sir, this surprises me; and it is not the general opinion, I ampersuaded! Certainly, it is not the fact as respects thegentleman--stranger, I might call him, for stranger he is atWychecombe--who has not the least right to pretend to belong to us."
"Did you ever know him to lay claim to that honour, sir?"
"Not directly, Sir Gervaise; though I am told he has made many hints tothat effect, since he landed here to be cured of his wound. It wouldhave been better had he presented his rights to the landlord, than topresent them to the tenants, I think you will allow, as a man of honour,yourself, Sir Gervaise?"
"I can approve of nothing clandestine in matters that require open andfair dealing, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe. But I ought to apologize for thusdwelling on your family affairs, which concern me only as I feel aninterest in the wishes and happiness of my new acquaintance, myexcellent host."
"Sir Wycherly has property in the funds that is not entailed--quiteL1000 a year, beyond the estates--and I know he has left a will,"continued Tom; who, with the short-sightedness of a rogue, flatteredhimself with having made a favourable impression on his companion, andwho was desirous of making him useful to himself, in an emergency thathe felt satisfied must terminate in the speedy death of his uncle. "Yes,a good L1000 a year, in the fives; money saved from his rents, in a longlife. This will probably has some provision in favour of my youngerbrothers; and perhaps of this namesake of his,"--Tom was well aware thatit devised every shilling, real and personal, to himself;--"for a kinderheart does not exist on earth. In fact, this will my uncle put in mypossession, as heir at law, feeling it due to my pretensions, I suppose;but I have never presumed to look into it."
Here was another instance of excessive finesse, in which Tom awakenedsuspicion by his very efforts to allay it. It seemed highly improbableto Sir Gervaise, that a man like the nephew could long possess hisuncle's will, and feel no desire to ascertain its contents. The languageof the young man was an indirect admission, that he might have examinedthe will if he would; and the admiral felt disposed to suspect that whathe might thus readily have done, he actually had done. The dialogue,however, terminated here; Dutton, just at that moment, entering the roomon the errand on which he had been sent by Admiral Bluewater, and Tomjoining his old acquaintance, as soon as the latter made his appearance.Sir Gervaise Oakes was too much concerned for the condition of his host,and had too many cares of his own, to think deeply or long on what hadjust passed between himself and Tom Wychecombe. Had they separated thatnight, what had been said, and the unfavourable impressions it had made,would have been soon forgotten; but circumstances subsequently conspiredto recall the whole to his mind, of which the consequences will berelated in the course of our narrative.
Dutton appeared to be a little shocked as he gazed upon the pallidfeatures of Sir Wycherly, and he was not sorry when Tom led him aside,and began to speak confidentially of the future, and of the probablespeedy death of his uncle. Had there been one present, gifted with thepower of reading the thoughts and motives of men, a deep disgust ofhuman frailties must have come over him, as these two impure spiritsbetrayed to him their cupidity and cunning. Outwardly, they were friendsmourning over a mutual probable loss; while inwardly, Dutton wasendeavouring to obtain such a hold of his companion's confidence, asmight pave the way to his own future preferment to the high andunhoped-for station of a rich baronet's father-in-law; while Tom thoughtonly of so far mystifying the master, as to make use of him, on anemergency, as a witness to establish his own claims. The manner in whichhe endeavoured to effect his object, however, must be left to theimagination of the reader, as we have matters of greater moment torecord at this particular juncture.
From the time Sir Wycherly was laid on his bed, Mr. Rotherham had beenseated at the sick man's side, watching the course of his attack, andready to interpret any of the patient's feebly and indistinctlyexpressed wishes. We say indistinctly, because the baronet's speech wasslightly affected with that species of paralysis which reduces thefaculty to the state that is vulgarly called thick-tongued. Although athree-bottle man, Mr. Rotherham was far from being without his devoutfeelings, on occasions, discharging all the clerical functions with asmuch unction as the habits of the country, and the opinions of the day,ordinarily exacted of divines. He had even volunteered to read theprayers for the sick, as soon as he perceived that the patient'srecollection had returned; but this kind offer had been declined by SirWycherly, under the clearer views of fitness, that the near approach ofdeath is apt to give, and which views left a certain consciousness thatthe party assembled was not in the best possible condition for thatsacred office. Sir Wycherly revived so much, at last, as to look abouthim with increasing consciousness; and, at length, his eyes passedslowly over the room, scanning each person singly, and with markeddeliberation.
"I know you all--now," said the kind-hearted baronet, though alwaysspeaking thick, and with a little difficulty; "am sorry to give--muchtrouble. I have--little time to spare."
"I hope not, Sir Wycherly," put in the vicar, in a consolatory manner;"you have had a sharp attack, but then there is a good constitution towithstand it."
"My time--short--feel it here," rejoined the patient, passing his handover his forehead.
"Note that, Dutton," whispered Tom Wycherly. "My poor uncle intimateshimself that his mind is a little shaken. Under such circumstances, itwould be cruel to let him injure himself with business."
"It cannot be done _legally_, Mr. Thomas--I should think Admiral Oakeswould interfere to prevent it."
"Rotherham," continued the patient, "I will--settle with--world; then,give--thoughts--to God. Have we--guests--the house?--Men offamily--character?"
"Certainly, Sir Wycherly; Admiral Oakes is in the room, even; andAdmiral Bluewater, is, I believe, still in the house. You invited bothto pass the night with you."
"I remember it--now; my mind--still--confused,"--here Tom Wychecombeagain nudged the master--"Sir Gervaise Oakes--an Admiral--ancientbaronet--man of high honour. Admiral Bluewater, too--relative--LordBluewater; gentleman--universal esteem. You, too, Rotherham; wish mypoor brother James--St. James--used to call him--had beenliving;--you--good neighbour--Rotherham."
"Can I do any thing to prove it, my dear Sir Wycherly? Nothing wouldmake me happier than to know, and to comply with, all your wishes, at amoment so important!"
"Let all quit--room--but yourself--head feels worse--I cannot delay--"
"'Tis cruel to distress my beloved uncle with business, or conversation,in his present state," interposed Tom Wychecombe, with emphasis, and, ina slight degree, with authority.
All not only felt the truth of this, but all felt that the speaker, byhis consanguinity, had a clear right to interfere, in the manner he had.Still Sir Gervaise Oakes had great reluctance in yielding to thisremonstrance; for, to the distrust he had imbibed of Tom Wychecombe, wasadded an impression that his host wished to reveal something ofinterest, in connection with his new favourite, the lieutenant. He feltcompelled, notwithstanding, to defer to the acknowledged nephew's betterclaims, and he refrained from interfering. Fortunately, Sir Wycherly wasyet in a state to enforce his own wishes.
"Let all quit--room," he repeated, in a voice that was startling by itsunexpected firmness, and equally unexpected distinctness. "All but SirGervaise Oakes--Admiral Bluewater--Mr. Rotherham, Gentlemen--favour toremain--rest depart."
Accustomed to obey their master's orders, more especially when given ina tone so decided, the domestics quitted the roo
m, accompanied byDutton; but Tom Wychecombe saw fit to remain, as if his presence were tobe a matter of course.
"Do me--favour--withdraw,--Mr. Wychecombe," resumed the baronet, afterfixing his gaze on his nephew for some time, as if expecting him toretire without this request.
"My beloved uncle, it is I--Thomas, your own brother's son--your next ofkin--waiting anxiously by your respected bed-side. Do not--donot--confound me with strangers. Such a forgetfulness would break myheart!"
"Forgive me, nephew--but I wish--alone with thesegentle----head--getting--confused--"
"You see how it is, Sir Gervaise Oakes--you see how it is, Mr.Rotherham. Ah! there goes the coach that is to take Admiral Bluewater tohis boat. My uncle wished for three witnesses to something, and I canremain as one of the three."
"Is it your pleasure, Sir Wycherly, to wish to see us alone?" asked SirGervaise, in a manner that showed authority would be exercised toenforce his request, should the uncle still desire the absence of hisnephew.
A sign from the sick man indicated the affirmative, and that in a mannertoo decided to admit of mistake.
"You perceive, Mr. Wychecombe, what are your uncle's wishes," observedSir Gervaise, very much in the way that a well-bred superior intimatesto an inferior the compliance he expects; "I trust his desire will notbe disregarded, at a moment like this."
"I am Sir Wycherly Wychecombe's next of kin," said Tom, in a slightlybullying tone; "and no one has the same right as a relative, and, I maysay, his heir, to be at his bed-side."
"That depends on the pleasure of Sir Wycherly Wychecombe himself, sir._He_ is master here; and, having done me the honour to invite me underhis roof as a guest, and, now, having requested to see me alone, withothers he has expressly named--one of whom you are not--I shall conceiveit my duty to see his wishes obeyed."
This was said in the firm, quiet way, that the habit of command hadimparted to Sir Gervaise's manner; and Tom began to see it might bedangerous to resist. It was important, too, that one of thevice-admiral's character and station should have naught to say againsthim, in the event of any future controversy; and, making a fewprofessions of respect, and of his desire to please his uncle, Tomquitted the room.
A gleam of satisfaction shot over the sick man's countenance, as hisnephew disappeared; and then his eye turned slowly towards the faces ofthose who remained.
"Bluewater," he said, the thickness of his speech, and the generaldifficulty of utterance, seeming to increase; "the rear-admiral--I wantall--respectable--witnesses in the house."
"My friend has left us, I understand," returned Sir Gervaise, "insistingon his habit of never sleeping out of his ship; but Atwood must soon beback; I hope _he_ will answer!"
A sign of assent was given; and, then, there was the pause of a minute,or two, ere the secretary made his appearance. As soon, however, as hehad returned, the three collected around the baronet's bed, not withoutsome of the weakness which men are supposed to have inherited from theircommon mother Eve, in connection with the motive for this singularproceeding of the baronet.
"Sir Gervaise--Rotherham--Mr. Atwood," slowly repeated the patient, hiseye passing from the face of one to that of another, as he uttered thename of each; "three witnesses--that will do--Thomas said--must have_three_--three _good_ names."
"What can we do to serve you, Sir Wycherly?" inquired the admiral, withreal interest. "You have only to name your requests, to have themfaithfully attended to."
"Old Sir Michael Wychecombe, Kt.--two wives--Margery and Joan. Twowives--two sons--half-blood--Thomas, James, Charles, and Gregory,_whole_--Sir Reginald Wychecombe, _half_. Understand--hope--gentlemen?"
"This is not being very clear, certainly," whispered Sir Gervaise; "but,perhaps by getting hold of the other end of the rope, we may under-runit, as we sailors say, and come at the meaning--we will let the poor manproceed, therefore. Quite plain, my dear sir, and what have you next totell us. You left off without saying only _half_ about Sir Reginald."
"Half-blood; only _half_--Tom and the rest, whole. Sir Reginald, no_nullius_--young Tom, a _nullius_."
"A _nullius_, Mr. Rotherham! You understand Latin, sir; what can a_nullius_, mean? No such rope in the ship, hey! Atwood?"
"_Nullius_, or _nullius_, as it ought sometimes to be pronounced, is thegenitive case, singular, of the pronoun _nullus; nullus, nulla, nullum_;which means, 'no man,' 'no woman,' 'no thing.' _Nullius_ means, 'of noman,' 'of no woman,' 'of no thing.'"
The vicar gave this explanation, much in the way a pedagogue would haveexplained the matter to a class.
"Ay-ay--any school-boy could have told that, which is the first formlearning. But what the devil can 'Nom. _nullus, nulla, nullum_; Gen._nullius, nullius, nullius_,' have to do with Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, thenephew and heir of the present baronet?"
"That is more than I can inform you, Sir Gervaise," answered the vicar,stiffly; "but, for the Latin, I will take upon myself to answer, that itis good."
Sir Gervaise was too-well bred to laugh, but he found it difficult tosuppress a smile.
"Well, Sir Wycherly," resumed the vice-admiral, "this is quiteplain--Sir Reginald is only _half_, while your nephew Tom, and the rest,are _whole_--Margery and Joan, and all that. Any thing more to tell us,my dear sir?"
"Tom _not_ whole--_nullus_, I wish to say. Sir Reginald _half_--no_nullus_."
"This is like being at sea a week, without getting a sight of the sun! Iam all adrift, now, gentlemen."
"Sir Wycherly does not attend to his cases," put in Atwood, drily. "Atone time, he is in the _genitive_, and then he gets back to the_nominative_; which is leaving us in the _vocative_"
"Come--come--Atwood, none of your gun-room wit, on an occasion so solemnas this. My dear Sir Wycherly, have you any thing more to tell us? Ibelieve we perfectly understand you, now. Tom is not _whole_--you wishto say _nullus_, and not to say _nullius_. Sir Reginald is only _half_,but he is no _nullus_."
"Yes, sir--that is it," returned the old man, smiling. "_Half_, but no_nullus_. Change my mind--seen too much of the other, lately--Tom, mynephew--want to make _him_ my heir."
"This is getting clearer, out of all question. You wish to make yournephew, Tom, your heir. But the law does that already, does it not mydear sir? Mr. Baron Wychecombe was the next brother of the baronet; washe not, Mr. Rotherham?"
"So I have always understood, sir; and Mr. Thomas Wychecombe must be theheir at law."
"No--no--_nullus_--_nullus_," repeated Sir Wycherly, with so mucheagerness as to make his voice nearly indistinct; "Sir Reginald--SirReginald--Sir Reginald."
"And pray, Mr. Rotherham, who may this Sir Reginald be? Some old baronetof the family, I presume."
"Not at all, sir; it is Sir Reginald Wychecombe of Wychecombe-Regis,Herts; a baronet of Queen Anne's time, and a descendant from a cadet ofthis family, I am told."
"This is getting on soundings--I had taken it into my head this SirReginald was some old fellow of the reign of one of the Plantagenets.Well, Sir Wycherly, do you wish us to send an express intoHertfordshire, in quest of Sir Reginald Wychecombe, who is quite likelyyour executor? Do not give yourself the pain to speak; a sign willanswer."
Sir Wycherly seemed struck with the suggestion, which, the reader willreadily understand, was far from being his real meaning; and then hesmiled, and nodded his head in approbation.
Sir Gervaise, with the prompitude of a man of business, turned to thetable where the vicar had written notes to the medical men, and dictateda short letter to his secretary. This letter he signed, and in fiveminutes Atwood left the room, to order it to be immediately forwarded byexpress. When this was done, the admiral rubbed his hands, insatisfaction, like a man who felt he had got himself cleverly out of aknotty difficulty.
"I don't see, after all, Mr. Rotherham," he observed to the vicar, asthey stood together, in a corner of the room, waiting the return of thesecretary; "what he lugged in that school-boy Latin for--_nullus, nulla,nullum_! Can you possibly explain _that_?"
"Not unle
ss it was Sir Wycherly's desire to say, that Sir Reginald,being descended from a younger son, was nobody--as yet, had nowoman--and I believe he is not married--and was poor, or had 'no_thing_.'"
"And is Sir Wycherly such a desperate scholar, that he would expresshimself in this hieroglyphical manner, on what I fear will prove to behis death-bed?"
"Why, Sir Gervaise, Sir Wycherly was educated like all other younggentlemen, but has forgotten most of his classics, in the course of along life of ease and affluence. Is it not probable, now, that hisrecollection has returned to him suddenly, in consequence of thisaffection of the head? I think I have read of some curious instances ofthese reviving memories, on a death-bed, or after a fit of sickness."
"Ay, that you may have done!" exclaimed Sir Gervaise, smiling; "andpoor, good Sir Wycherly, must have begun afresh, at the very place wherehe left off. But here is Atwood, again."
After a short consultation, the three chosen witnesses returned to thebed-side, the admiral being spokesman.
"The express will be off in ten minutes. Sir Wycherly," he said; "andyou may hope to see your relative, in the course of the next two orthree days."
"Too late--too late," murmured the patient, who had an inwardconsciousness of his true situation; "too late--turn the will round--SirReginald, Tom;--Tom, Sir Reginald. Turn the will round."
"Turn the will round!--this is very explicit, gentlemen, to those whocan understand it. Sir Reginald, Tom;--Tom, Sir Reginald. At all events,it is clear that his mind is dwelling on the disposition of hisproperty, since he speaks of wills. Atwood, make a note of these words,that there need be no mistake. I wonder he has said nothing of our braveyoung lieutenant, his namesake. There can be no harm, Mr. Rotherham, injust mentioning that fine fellow to him, in a moment like this?"
"I see none, sir. It is _our_ duty to remind the sick of _their_duties."
"Do you not wish to see your young namesake, Lieutenant _Wycherly_Wychecombe, Sir Wycherly?" asked the admiral; sufficiently emphasizingthe Christian name. "He must be in the house, and I dare say would behappy to obey your wishes."
"I hope he is well, sir--fine young gentleman--honour to the name, sir."
"Quite true, Sir Wycherly; and an honour to the _nation_, too."
"Didn't know Virginia was a _nation_--so much the better--fine young_Virginian_, sir."
"Of your _family_, no doubt, Sir Wycherly, as well as of your name,"added the admiral, who secretly suspected the young sailor of being ason of the baronet, notwithstanding all he had heard to the contrary."An exceedingly fine young man, and an honour to any house in England!"
"I suppose they _have_ houses in Virginia--bad climate; housesnecessary. No relative, sir;--probably a _nullus_. ManyWychecombes, _nulluses_. Tom, a _nullus_--this young gentleman, a_nullus_--Wychecombes of Surrey, all _nulluses_--Sir Reginald no_nullus_; but a _half_--Thomas, James, Charles, and Gregory, all_whole_. My brother, Baron Wychecombe, told me--before died."
"_Whole what_, Sir Wycherly?" asked the admiral, a little vexed at theobscurity of the other's language.
"Blood--_whole blood_, sir. Capital law, Sir Gervaise; had it from thebaron--first hand."
Now, one of the peculiarities of England is, that, in the division oflabour, few know any thing material about the law, except theprofessional men. Even their knowledge is divided and sub-divided, in away that makes a very fair division of profit. Thus the conveyancer isnot a barrister; the barrister is not an attorney; and the chancerypractitioner would be an unsafe adviser for one of the purely lawcourts. That particular provision of the common law, which BaronWychecombe had mentioned to his brother, as the rule of the_half-blood_, has been set aside, or modified, by statute, within thelast ten years; but few English laymen would be at all likely to know ofsuch a law of descent even when it existed; for while it did violence toevery natural sentiment of right, it lay hidden in the secrets of theprofession. Were a case stated to a thousand intelligent Englishmen, whohad not read law, in which it was laid down that brothers, by differentmothers, though equally sons of the founder of the estate, could nottake from each other, unless by devise or entail, the probability isthat quite nine in ten would deny the existence of any rule so absurd;and this, too, under the influence of feelings that were creditable totheir sense of natural justice. Nevertheless, such was one of theimportant provisions of the "perfection of reason," until the recentreforms in English law; and it has struck us as surprising, that aningenious writer of fiction, who has recently charmed his readers with atale, the interest of which turns principally on the vicissitudes ofpractice, did not bethink him of this peculiar feature of his country'slaws; inasmuch as it would have supplied mystery sufficient for a dozenordinary romances, and improbabilities enough for a hundred. That SirGervaise and his companions should be ignorant of the "law of thehalf-blood," is, consequently, very much a matter of course; and no oneought to be surprised that the worthy baronet's repeated allusions tothe "whole," and the "half," were absolutely enigmas, which neither hadthe knowledge necessary to explain.
"What _can_ the poor fellow mean?" demanded the admiral, more concernedthan he remembered ever before to have been, on any similar occasion."One could wish to serve him as much as possible, but all this about'_nullus_,' and 'whole blood,' and 'half,' is so much gibberish tome--can you make any thing of it,--hey! Atwood?"
"Upon my word, Sir Gervaise, it seems a matter for a judge, rather thanfor man-of-war's men, like ourselves."
"It certainly can have no connection with this rising of the Jacobites?_That_ is an affair likely to trouble a loyal subject, in his lastmoments, Mr. Rotherham!"
"Sir Wycherly's habits and age forbid the idea that he knows more of_that_, sir, than is known to us all. His request, however, to 'turn thewill round,' I conceive to be altogether explicit. Several capitaltreatises have appeared lately on the 'human will,' and I regret to say,my honoured friend and patron has not always been quite as orthodox onthat point, as I could wish. I, therefore, consider his words asevidence of a hearty repentance."
Sir Gervaise looked about him, as was his habit when any droll ideacrossed his mind; but again suppressing the inclination to smile, heanswered with suitable gravity--
"I understand you, sir; you think all these inexplicable terms areconnected with Sir Wycherly's religious feelings. You may certainly beright, for it exceeds my knowledge to connect them with any thing else.I wish, notwithstanding, he had not disowned this noble young lieutenantof ours! Is it quite certain the young man is a Virginian?"
"So I have always understood it, sir. He has never been known in thispart of England, until he was landed from a frigate in the roads, to becured of a serious wound. I think none of Sir Wycherly's allusions havethe least reference to _him_."
Sir Gervaise Oakes now joined his hands behind his back, and walkedseveral times, quarter-deck fashion, to and fro, in the room. At eachturn, his eyes glanced towards the bed, and he ever found the gaze ofthe sick man anxiously fastened on himself. This satisfied him thatreligion had nothing to do with his host's manifest desire to makehimself understood; and his own trouble was greatly increased. It seemedto him, as if the dying man was making incessant appeals to his aid,without its being in his power to afford it. It was not possible for agenerous man, like Sir Gervaise, to submit to such a feeling without aneffort; and he soon went to the side of the bed, again, determined tobring the affair to some intelligible issue.
"Do you think, Sir Wycherly, you could write a few lines, if we put pen,ink, and paper before you?" he asked, as a sort of desperate remedy.
"Impossible--can hardly see; have got no strength--stop--will try--ifyou please."
Sir Gervaise was delighted with this, and he immediately directed hiscompanions to lend their assistance. Atwood and the vicar bolstered theold man up, and the admiral put the writing materials before him,substituting a large quarto bible for a desk. Sir Wycherly, afterseveral abortive attempts, finally got the pen in his hand, and withgreat difficulty traced six or seven nearly illegibl
e words, running theline diagonally across the paper. By this time his powers failed himaltogether, and he sunk back, dropping the pen, and closing his eyes ina partial insensibility. At this critical instant, the surgeon entered,and at once put an end to the interview, by taking charge of thepatient, and directing all but one or two necessary attendants, to quitthe room.
The three chosen witnesses of what had just past, repaired together to aparlour; Atwood, by a sort of mechanical habit, taking with him thepaper on which the baronet had scrawled the words just mentioned. This,by a sort of mechanical use, also, he put into the hands of SirGervaise, as soon as they entered the room; much as he would have laidbefore his superior, an order to sign, or a copy of a letter to thesecretary of the Navy Board.
"This is as bad as the '_nullus_!'" exclaimed Sir Gervaise, afterendeavouring to decipher the scrawl in vain. "What is this first word,Mr. Rotherham--'Irish,' is it not,--hey! Atwood?"
"I believe it is no move than 'I-n,' stretched over much more paper thanis necessary."
"You are right enough, vicar; and the next word is 'the,' though itlooks like a _chevaux de frise_--what follows? It looks like'man-of-war.' Atwood?"
"I beg your pardon, Sir Gervaise; this first letter is what I shouldcall an elongated n--the next is certainly an a--the third looks likethe waves of a river--ah! it is an m--and the last is ane--n-a-m-e--that makes 'name,' gentlemen."
"Yes," eagerly added the vicar, "and the two next words are, 'of God.'"
"Then it is religion, after all, that was on the poor man's mind!"exclaimed Sir Gervaise, in a slight degree disappointed, if the truthmust be told. "What's this A-m-e-n--'Amen'--why it's a sort of prayer."
"This is the form in which it is usual to commence wills, I believe, SirGervaise," observed the secretary, who had written many a one, on boardship, in his day. "'In the name of God, Amen.'"
"By George, you're right, Atwood; and the poor man was trying, all thewhile, to let us know how he wished to dispose of his property! Whatcould he mean by the _nullus_--it is not possible that the old gentlemanhas nothing to leave?"
"I'll answer for it, Sir Gervaise, _that_ is not the true explanation,"the vicar replied. "Sir Wycherly's affairs are in the best order; and,besides the estate, he has a large sum in the funds."
"Well, gentlemen, we can do no more to-night. A medical man is alreadyin the house, and Bluewater will send ashore one or two others from thefleet. In the morning, if Sir Wycherly is in a state to converse, thismatter shall be attended to."
The party now separated; a bed being provided for the vicar, and theadmiral and his secretary retiring to their respective rooms.
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