"Nath. Truly, Master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied,
like a scholar at the least. But, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of
the first head.
_Hol._ Sir Nathaniel, _haud credo_.
_Bull. 'Twas not a _haud credo_, 'twas a pricket."
LOVER'S LABOUR LOST.
Every appearance of the jolly negligence which had been so
characteristic of life at Wychecombe-Hall, had vanished, when the old
coach drew up in the court, to permit the party it had brought from the
station to alight. As no one was expected but Mrs. Dutton and her
daughter, not even a footman appeared to open the door of the carriage;
the vulgar-minded usually revenging their own homage to the powerful, by
manifesting as many slights as possible to the weak. Galleygo let the
new-comers out, and, consequently, he was the first person of whom
inquiries were made, as to the state of things in the house.
"Well," said Admiral Bluewater, looking earnestly at the steward; "how
is Sir Wycherly, and what is the news?"
"Sir Wycherly is still on the doctor's list, your honour; and I expects
his case is set down as a hard 'un. We's as well as can be expected, and
altogether in good heart. Sir Jarvy turned out with the sun, thof he
didn't turn in 'till the middle-watch was half gone--or _two_ bells, as
they calls 'em aboard this house--_four_ bells, as we should say in the
old Planter--and chickens, I hears, has riz, a shillin' a head, since
our first boat landed."
"It's a melancholy business, Mrs. Dutton; I fear there can be little
hope."
"Yes, it's all _that_, Admiral Blue," continued Galleygo, following the
party into the house, no one but himself hearing a word he uttered; "and
'twill be worse, afore it's any better. They tells me potaties has taken
a start, too; and, as all the b'ys of all the young gentlemen in the
fleet is out, like so many wild locusts of Hegypt, I expects nothing
better than as our mess will fare as bad as sogers on a retreat."
In the hall, Tom Wychecombe, and his namesake, the lieutenant, met the
party. From the formal despondency of the first, every thing they
apprehended was confirmed. The last, however, was more cheerful, and not
altogether without hope; as he did not hesitate openly to avow.
"For myself, I confess I think Sir Wycherly much better," he said;
"although the opinion is not sanctioned by that of the medical men. His
desiring to see these ladies is favourable; and then cheering news for
him has been brought back, already, by the messenger sent, only eight
hours since, for his kinsman, Sir Reginald Wychecombe. He has sensibly
revived since that report was brought in."
"Ah! my dear namesake," rejoined Tom, shaking his head, mournfully; "you
cannot know my beloved uncle's constitution and feelings as well as I!
Rely on it, the medical men are right; and your hopes deceive you. The
sending for Mrs. Dutton and Miss Mildred, both of whom my honoured uncle
respects and esteems, looks more like leave-taking than any thing else;
and, as to Sir Reginald Wychecombe,--though a relative, beyond a
question,--I think there has been some mistake in sending for him; since
he is barely an acquaintance of the elder branch of the family, and he
is of the half-blood."
"_Half_ what, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe?" demanded the vice-admiral so
suddenly, behind the speaker, as to cause all to start; Sir Gervaise
having hastened to meet the ladies and his friend, as soon as he knew of
their arrival. "I ask pardon, sir, for my abrupt inquiry; but, as _I_
was the means of sending for Sir Reginald Wychecombe, I feel an interest
in knowing his exact relationship to my host?"
Tom started, and even paled, at this sudden question; then the colour
rushed into his temples; he became calmer, and replied:
"_Half-blood_, Sir Gervaise," he said, steadily. "This is an affinity
that puts a person altogether out of the line of succession; and, of
course, removes any necessity, or wish, to see Sir Reginald."
"Half-_blood_--hey! Atwood?" muttered the vice-admiral, turning away
towards his secretary, who had followed him down stairs. "This may be
the solution, after all! Do you happen to know what half-_blood_ means?
It cannot signify that Sir Reginald comes from one of those, who have no
father--all their ancestry consisting only of a mother?"
"I should think not, Sir Gervaise; in that case, Sir Reiginald would
scarcely be considered of so honourable a lineage, as he appears to be.
I have not the smallest idea, sir, what half-_blood_ means; and,
perhaps, it may not be amiss to inquire of the medical gentlemen.
Magrath is up stairs; possibly he can tell us."
"I rather think it has something to do with the law. If this
out-of-the-way place, now, could furnish even a lubberly attorney, we
might learn all about it. Harkee, Atwood; you must stand by to make Sir
Wycherly's will, if he says any thing more about it--have you got the
heading all written out, as I desired."
"It is quite ready, Sir Gervaise--beginning, as usual, 'In the name of
God, Amen.' I have even ventured so far as to describe the testator's
style and residence, &c. &c.--'I, Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, Bart., of
Wychecombe Hall, Devon, do make and declare this to be my last will and
testament, &c. &c.' Nothing is wanting but the devises, as the lawyers
call them. I can manage a will, well enough, Sir Gervaise, I believe.
One of mine has been in the courts, now, these five years, and they tell
me it sticks there, as well as if it had been drawn in the Middle
Temple."
"Ay, I know your skill. Still, there can be no harm in just asking
Magrath; though I think it must be law, after all! Run up and ask him,
Atwood, and bring me the answer in the drawing-room, where I see
Bluewater has gone with his convoy; and--harkee--tell the surgeons to
let us know the instant the patient says any thing about his temporal
affairs. The twenty thousand in the funds are his, to do what he pleases
with; let the land be tied up, as it may."
While this "aside," was going on in the hall, Bluewater and the rest of
the party had entered a small parlour, that was in constant use, still
conversing of the state of Sir Wycherly. As all of them, but the two
young men, were ignorant of the nature of the message to Sir Reginald
Wychecombe, and of the intelligence in connection with that gentleman,
which had just been received, Mrs. Dutton ventured to ask an
explanation, which was given by Wycherly, with a readiness that proved
_he_ felt no apprehensions on the subject.
"Sir Wycherly desired to see his distant relative, Sir Reginald," said
the lieutenant; "and the messenger who was sent to request his
attendance, fortunately learned from a post-boy, that the Hertfordshire
baronet, in common with many other gentlemen, is travelling in the west,
just at this moment; and that he slept last night, at a house only
twenty miles distant. The express reached him several hours since, and
an answer has been received, informing us that we may expect to see him,
in an hour or two."
Thus much was related by Wycherly; but, we may add that Sir Reginald
Wychecombe was a Catholic, as it was then usual to term the Romanists,
and in secret, a Jacobite; and, in common with many of that religious
persuasion, he was down in the west, to see if a rising could not be
organized in that part of the kingdom, as a diversion to any attempt to
repel the young Pretender in the north. As the utmost caution was used
by the conspirators, this fact was not even suspected by any who were
not in the secret of the whole proceeding. Understanding that his
relation was an inefficient old man, Sir Reginald, himself an active and
sagacious intriguer, had approached thus near to the old paternal
residence of his family, in order to ascertain if his own name and
descent might not aid him in obtaining levies among the ancient tenantry
of the estate. That day he had actually intended to appear at
Wychecombe, disguised, and under an assumed name. He proposed venturing
on this step, because circumstances put it in his power, to give what he
thought would be received as a sufficient excuse, should his conduct
excite comment.
Sir Reginald Wychecombe was a singular, but by no means an unnatural
compound of management and integrity. His position as a Papist had
disposed him to intrigue, while his position as one proscribed by
religious hostility, had disposed him to be a Papist. Thousands are made
men of activity, and even of importance, by persecution and
proscription, who would pass through life quietly and unnoticed, if the
meddling hand of human forethought did not force them into situations
that awaken their hostility, and quicken their powers. This gentleman
was a firm believer in all the traditions of his church, though his
learning extended little beyond his missal; and he put the most implicit
reliance on the absurd, because improbable, fiction of the Nag's Head
consecration, without having even deemed it necessary to look into a
particle of that testimony by which alone such a controversy could be
decided. In a word, he was an instance of what religious intolerance has
ever done, and will probably for ever continue to do, with so wayward a
being as man.
Apart from this weakness, Sir Reginald Wychecombe had both a shrewd and
an inquiring mind. His religion he left very much to the priests; but of
his temporal affairs he assumed a careful and prudent supervision. He
was much richer than the head of the family; but, while he had no
meannesses connected with money, he had no objection to be the possessor
of the old family estates. Of his own relation to the head of this
family, he was perfectly aware, and the circumstance of the half-blood,
with all its legal consequences, was no secret to him. Sir Reginald
Wychecombe was not a man to be so situated, without having recourse to
all proper means, in order, as it has become the fashion of the day to
express it, "to define his position." By means of a shrewd attorney, if
not of his own religious, at least of his own political opinions, he had
ascertained the fact, and this from the mouth of Martha herself, that
Baron Wychecombe had never married; and that, consequently, Tom and his
brothers were no more heirs at law to the Wychecombe estate, than he was
in his own person. He fully understood, too, that there _was_ no heir at
law; and that the lands must escheat, unless the present owner made a
will; and to this last act, his precise information told him that Sir
Wycherly had an unconquerable reluctance. Under such circumstances, it
is not at all surprising, that when the Hertfordshire baronet was thus
unexpectedly summoned to the bed-side of his distant kinsman, he
inferred that his own claims were at length to be tardily acknowledged,
and that he was about to be put in possession of the estates of his
legitimate ancestors. It is still less wonderful, that, believing this,
he promptly promised to lose no time in obeying the summons, determining
momentarily to forget his political, in order to look a little after his
personal interests.
The reader will understand, of course, that all these details were
unknown to the inmates of the Hall, beyond the fact of the expected
arrival of Sir Reginald Wychecombe, and that of the circumstance of the
half-blood; which, in its true bearing, was known alone to Tom. Their
thoughts were directed towards the situation of their host, and little
was said, or done, that had not his immediate condition for the object.
It being understood, however, that the surgeons kept the sick chamber
closed against all visiters, a silent and melancholy breakfast was taken
by the whole party, in waiting for the moment when they might be
admitted. When this cheerless meal was ended, Sir Gervaise desired
Bluewater to follow him to his room, whither he led the way in person.
"It is possible, certainly, that Vervillin is out," commenced the
vice-admiral, when they were alone; "but we shall know more about it,
when the cutter gets in, and reports. You saw nothing but her number, I
think you told me?"
"She was at work with private signals, when I left the head-land; of
course I was unable to read them without the book."
"That Vervillin is a good fellow," returned Sir Gervaise, rubbing his
hands; a way he had when much pleased; "and has stuff in him. He has
thirteen two-decked ships, Dick, and that will be one apiece for our
captains, and a spare one for each of our flags. I believe there is no
three-decker in that squadron?"
"There you've made a small mistake, Sir Gervaise, as the Comte de
Vervillin had his flag in the largest three-decker of France; _le
Bourbon_ 120. The rest of his ships are like our own, though much fuller
manned."
"Never mind, Blue--never mind:--we'll put two on the Bourbon, and try to
make our frigates of use. Besides, you have a knack at keeping the fleet
so compact, that it is nearly a single battery."
"May I venture to ask, then, if it's your intention to go out, should
the news by the Active prove to be what you anticipate?"
Sir Gervaise cast a quick, distrustful glance at the other, anxious to
read the motive for the question, at the same time that he did not wish
to betray his own feelings; then he appeared to meditate on the answer.
"It is not quite agreeable to lie here, chafing our cables, with a
French squadron roving the channel," he said; "but I rather think it's
my duty to wait for orders from the Admiralty, under present
circumstances."
"Do you expect my lords will send you through the Straits of Dover, to
blockade the Frith?"
"If they do, Bluewater, I shall hope for your company. I trust, a
night's rest has given you different views of what ought to be a
seaman's duty, when his country is at open war with her ancient and most
powerful enemies."
"It is the prerogative of the _crown_ to declare war, Oakes. No one but
a _lawful_ sovereign can make a _lawful_ war."
"Ay, here come your cursed distinctions about _de jure_ and _de facto_,
again. By the way, Dick, you are something of a scholar--can you tell me
what is understood by calling a man a _nullus_?"
Admiral Bluewater, who had taken his usual lolling attitude in the most
comfortable chair he could find, while his more mercurial friend kept
pacing the room, now raised his head in surprise, following the quick
motions of the other, with his eyes, as if he doubted whether he had
rightly heard the question.
"It's plain English, is it not?--or plain _Latin_, if you will--what is
meant by calling a man a _nullus_?" repeated Sir Gervaise, observing the
other's manner.
"The Latin is _plain_ enough, certainly," returned Bluewater, smiling;
"you surely do not mean _nullus, nulla, nullum_?"
"Exactly that--you've hit it to a gender.--_Nullus_, nulla, nullum_.
No _man_, no _woman_, no _thing_. Masculine, feminine, neuter."
"I never heard the saying. If ever used, it must be some silly play on
sounds, and mean a numskull--or, perhaps, a fling at a fellow's
position, by saying he is a 'nobody.' Who the deuce has been calling
another a _nullus_, in the presence of the commander-in-chief of the
southern squadron?"
"Sir Wycherly Wychecombe--our unfortunate host, here: the poor man who
is on his death-bed, on this very floor."
Again Bluewater raised his head, and once more his eye sought the face
of his friend. Sir Gervaise had now stopped short, with his hands
crossed behind his back, looking intently at the other, in expectation
of the answer.
"I thought it might be some difficulty from the fleet--some silly fellow
complaining of another still more silly for using such a word. Sir
Wycherly!--the poor man's mind must have failed him."
"I rather think not; if it has, there is 'method in his madness,' for he
persevered most surprisingly, in the use of the term. His nephew, Tom
Wychecombe, the presumptive heir, he insists on it, is a _nullus_; while
this Sir Reginald, who is expected to arrive every instant, he says is
only _half_--or half-_blood_, as it has since been explained to us."
"I am afraid this nephew will prove to be any thing but _nullus_, when
he succeeds to the estate and title," answered Bluewater, gravely. "A
more sinister-looking scoundrel, I never laid eyes on."
"That is just my way of thinking; and not in the least like the family."
"This matter of likenesses is not easily explained, Oakes. We see
parents and children without any visible resemblance to each other; and
then we find startling likenesses between utter strangers."
"_Bachelor's children_ may be in that predicament, certainly; but I
should think few others. I never yet studied a child, that I did not
find some resemblance to both parents; covert and only transitory,
perhaps; but a likeness so distinct as to establish the relationship.
What an accursed chance it is, that our noble young lieutenant should
have no claim on this old baronet; while this d----d _nullus_ is both
heir at law, and heir of entail! I never took half as much interest in
any other man's estate, as I take in the succession to this of our poor
host!"
"There you are mistaken, Oakes; you took more in _mine_; for, when I
made a will in your own favour, and gave it to you to read, you tore it
in two, and threw it overboard, with your own hand."
"Ay, that was an act of lawful authority. As your superior, I
countermanded that will! I hope you've made another, and given your
money, as I told you, to your cousin, the Viscount."
"I did, but _that_ will has shared the fate of the first. It appearing
to me, that we are touching on serious times, and Bluewater being rich
already, I destroyed the devise in his favour, and made a new one, this
very morning. As you are my executor, as usual, it may be well to let
you know it."
"Dick, you have not been mad enough to cut off the head of your own
family--your own flesh and blood, as it might be--to leave the few
thousands you own, to this mad adventurer in Scotland!"
Bluewater smiled at this evidence of the familiarity of his friend with
his own way of thinking and feeling; and, for a single instant, he
regretted that he had not put his first intention in force, in order
that the conformity of views might have been still more perfect; but,
putting a hand in his pocket he drew out the document itself, and
leaning forward, gave it carelessly to Sir Gervaise.
"There is the will; and by looking it over, you will know what I've
done," he said. "I wish you would keep it; for, if 'misery makes us
acquainted with strange bed-fellows,' revolutions reduce us, often, to
strange plights, and the paper will be safer with you than with me. Of
course, you will keep my secret, until the proper time to reveal it
shall arrive."
The vice-admiral, who knew that he had no direct interest in his
friend's disposition of his property, took the will, with a good deal of
curiosity to ascertain its provisions. So short a testament was soon
read; and his eye rested intently on the paper until it had taken in the
last word. Then his hand dropped, and he regarded Bluewater with a
surprise he neither affected, nor wished to conceal. He did not doubt
his friend's sanity, but he greatly questioned his discretion.
"This is a very simple, but a very ingenious arrangement, to disturb the
order of society," he said; "and to convert a very modest and
unpretending, though lovely girl, into a forward and airs-taking old
woman! What is this Mildred Dutton to you, that you should bequeath to
her £30,000?"
"She is one of the meekest, most ingenuous, purest, and loveliest, of
her meek, ingenuous, pure, and lovely sex, crushed to the earth by the
curse of a brutal, drunken father; and, I am resolute to see that this
world, for once, afford some compensation for its own miseries."
"Never doubt that, Richard Bluewater; never doubt _that_. So certain is
vice, or crime, to bring its own punishment in this life, that one may
well question if any other hell is needed. And, depend on it, your meek,
modest ingenuousness, in its turn, will not go unrewarded."
"Quite true, so far as the spirit is concerned; but, I mean to provide a
little for the comfort of the body. You remember Agnes Hedworth, I take
it for granted?"
"Remember her!--out of all question. Had the war left me leisure for
making love, she was the only woman I ever knew, who could have brought
me to her feet--I mean as a dog, Dick."
"Do you see any resemblance between her and this Mildred Dutton? It is
in the expression rather than in the features--but, it is the expression
which alone denotes the character."
"By George, you're right, Bluewater; and this relieves me from some
embarrassment I've felt about that very expression of which you speak.
She _is_ like poor Agnes, who became a saint earlier than any of us
could have wished. Living or dead, Agnes Hedworth must be an angel! You
were fonder of her, than of any other woman, I believe. At one time, I
thought you might propose for her hand."
"It was not that sort of affection, and you could not have known her
private history, or you would not have fancied this. I was so situated
in the way of relatives, that Agnes, though only the child of a
cousin-german, was the nearest youthful female relative I had on earth;
and I regarded her more as a sister, than as a creature who could ever
become my wife. She was sixteen years my junior; and by the time she had
become old enough to marry, I was accustomed to think of her only as one
destined for another station. The same feeling existed as to her sister,
the Duchess, though in a greatly lessened degree."
"Poor, sweet Agnes!--and it is on account of this accidental
resemblance, that you have determined to make the daughter of a drunken
sailing-master your heiress?"
"Not altogether so; the will was drawn before I was conscious that the
likeness existed. Still, it has probably, unknown to myself, greatly
disposed me to view her with favour. But, Gervaise, Agnes herself was
not fairer in person, or more lovely in mind, than this very Mildred
Dutton."
"Well, you have not been accustomed to regard _her_ as a sister; and
_she_ has become marriageable, without there having been any opportunity
for your regarding her as so peculiarly sacred, Dick!" returned Sir
Gervaise, half suppressing a smile as he threw a quiet glance at his
friend.
"You know this to be idle, Oakes. Some one must inherit my money; my
brother is long since dead; even poor, poor Agnes is gone; her sister
don't need it; Bluewater is an over-rich bachelor, already; _you_ won't
take it, and what better can I do with it? If you could have seen the
cruel manner in which the spirits of both mother and daughter were
crushed to the earth last night, by that beast of a husband and father,
you would have felt a desire to relieve their misery, even though it had
cost you Bowldero, and half your money in the funds."
"Umph! Bowldero has been in my family five centuries, and is likely to
remain there, Master Bluewater, five more; unless, indeed, your dashing
Pretender should succeed, and take it away by confiscation."
"There, again, was another inducement. Should I leave my cash to a rich
person, and should chance put me on the wrong side in this struggle, the
king, _de facto_, would get it all; whereas, even a German would not
have the heart to rob a poor creature like Mildred of her support."
"The _Scotch_ are notorious for bowels, in such matters! Well, have it
your own way, Dick. It's of no great moment what you do with your
prize-money; though I had supposed it would fall into the hands of this
boy, Geoffrey Cleveland, who is no discredit to your blood."
"He will have a hundred thousand pounds, at five-and-twenty, that were
left him by old Lady Greenfield, his great-aunt, and that is more than
he will know what to do with. But, enough of this. Have you received
further tidings from the north, during the night?"
"Not a syllable. This is a retired part of the country, and half
Scotland might be capsized in one of its loughs, and we not know of it,
for a week, down here in Devonshire. Should I get no intelligence or
orders, in the next thirty-six hours, I think of posting up to London,
leaving you in command of the fleet."
"That may not be wise. You would scarcely confide so important a trust,
in such a crisis, to a man of my political feelings--I will not say
_opinions_; since you attribute all to sentiment."
"I would confide my life and honour to you, Richard Bluewater, with the
utmost confidence in the security of both, so long as it depended on
your own acts or inclinations. We must first see, however, what news the
Active brings us; for, if de Vervillin is really out, I shall assume
that the duty of an English sailor is to beat a Frenchman, before all
other considerations."
"If he _can_," drily observed the other, raising his right leg so high
as to place the foot on the top of an old-fashioned chair; an effort
that nearly brought his back in a horizontal line.
"I am far from regarding it as a matter of course, Admiral Bluewater;
but, it _has_ been done sufficiently often, to render it an event of no
very violent _possibility_. Ah, here is Magrath to tell us the condition
of his patient."
The surgeon of the Plantagenet entering the room, at that moment, the
conversation was instantly changed.
"Well, Magrath," said Sir Gervaise, stopping suddenly in his
quarter-deck pace; "what news of the poor man?"
"He is reviving, Admiral Oakes," returned the phlegmatic surgeon; "but
it is like the gleaming of sunshine that streams through clouds, as the
great luminary sets behind the hills--"
"Oh! hang your poetry, doctor; let us have nothing but plain
matter-of-fact, this morning."
"Well, then, Sir Gervaise, as commander-in-chief, you'll be obeyed, I
think. Sir Wycherly Wychecombe is suffering under an attack of
apoplexy--or [Greek: apoplêxis], as the Greeks had it. The diagnosis of
the disease is not easily mistaken, though it has its affinities as well
as other maladies. The applications for gout, or _arthritis_--sometimes
produce apoplexy; though one disease is seated in the head, while the
other usually takes refuge in the feet. Ye'll understand this the more
readily, gentlemen, when ye reflect that as a thief is chased from one
hiding-place, he commonly endeavours to get into another. I much misgive
the prudence of the phlebotomy ye practised among ye, on the first
summons to the patient."
"What the d---l does the man mean by phlebotomy?" exclaimed Sir
Gervaise, who had an aversion to medicine, and knew scarcely any of the
commonest terms of practice, though expert in bleeding.
"I'm thinking it's what you and Admiral Bluewater so freely administer
to His Majesty's enemies, whenever ye fall in with 'em at
sea;--he-he-he--" answered Magrath, chuckling at his own humour; which,
as the quantity was small, was all the better in quality.
"Surely he does not mean powder and shot! We give the French shot; Sir
Wycherly has not been shot?"
"Varra true, Sir Gervaise, but ye've let him blood, amang ye: a measure
that has been somewhat precipitately practised, I've my misgivings!"
"Now, any old woman can tell us better than that, doctor. Blood-letting
is the every-day remedy for attacks of this sort."
"I do not dispute the dogmas of elderly persons of the other sex, Sir
Gervaise, or your _every-day remedia_. If 'every-day' doctors would save
life and alleviate pain, diplomas would be unnecessary; and we might,
all of us, practise on the principle of the 'de'el tak' the hindmaist,'
as ye did yoursel', Sir Gervaise, when ye cut and slash'd amang the
Dons, in boarding El Lirio. I was there, ye'll both remember, gentlemen;
and was obleeged to sew up the gashes ye made with your own irreverent
and ungodly hands."
This speech referred to one of the most desperate, hand-to-hand
struggles, in which the two flag-officers had ever been engaged; and, as
it afforded them the means of exhibiting their personal gallantry, when
quite young men, both usually looked back upon the exploit with great
self-complacency; Sir Gervaise, in particular, his friend having often
declared since, that they ought to have been laid on the shelf for life,
as a punishment for risking their men in so mad an enterprise, though it
did prove to be brilliantly successful.
"That was an affair in which one might engage at twenty-two, Magrath,"
observed Bluewater; "but which he ought to hesitate about thinking of
even, after thirty."
"I'd do it again, this blessed day, if you would give us a chance!"
exclaimed Sir Gervaise, striking the back of one hand into the palm of
the other, with a sudden energy, that showed how much he was excited by
the mere recollection of the scene.
"That w'ud ye!--that w'ud ye!" said Magrath, growing more and more
Scotch, as he warmed in the discourse; "ye'd board a mackerel-hoy,
rather than not have an engagement. Ye'r a varra capital vice-admiral of
the red, Sir Gervaise, but I'm judging ye'd mak' a varra indeeferent
loblolly-boy."
"Bluewater, I shall be compelled to change ships with you, in order to
get rid of the old stand-by's of the Plantagenets! They stick to me like
leeches; and have got to be so familiar, that they criticise all my
orders, and don't more than half obey them, in the bargain."
"No one will criticise your nautical commands, Sir Gervaise; though, in
the way of the healing airt,--science, it should be called--ye're no
mair to be trusted, than one of the young gentlemen. I'm told ye drew
ye'r lancet on this poor gentleman, as ye'd draw ye'r sword on an
enemy!"
"I did, indeed, sir; though Mr. Rotherham had rendered the application
of the instrument unnecessary. Apoplexy is a rushing of the blood to the
head; and by diminishing the quantity in the veins of the arms or
temples, you lessen the pressure on the brain."
"Just layman's practice, sir--just layman's practice. Will ye tell me
now if the patient's face was red or white? Every thing depends on
_that_; which is the true diagnosis of the malady."
"Red, I think; was it not, Bluewater? Red, like old port, of which I
fancy the poor man had more than his share."
"Weel, in that case, you were not so varra wrong; but, they tell me his
countenance was pallid and death-like; in which case ye came near to
committing murder. There is one principle that controls the diagnosis of
all cases of apoplexy among ye'r true country gentlemen--and that is,
that the system is reduced and enfeebled, by habitual devotion to the
decanter. In such attacks ye canna' do warse, than to let blood. But,
I'll no be hard upon you, Sir Gervaise; and so we'll drop the
subject--though, truth to say, I do not admire your poaching on my
manor. Sir Wycherly is materially better, and expresses, as well as a
man who has not the use of his tongue, _can_ express a thing, his
besetting desire to make his last will and testament. In ordinary cases
of _apoplexia_, it is good practice to oppose this craving; though, as
it is my firm opinion that nothing can save the patient's life, I do not
set myself against the measure, in this particular case. Thar' was a
curious discussion at Edinbro', in my youth, gentlemen, on the question
whether the considerations connected with the disposition of the
property, or the considerations connected with the patient's health,
ought to preponderate in the physician's mind, when it might be
reasonably doubted whether the act of making a will, would or would not
essentially affect the nervous system, and otherwise derange the
functions of the body. A very pretty argument, in excellent Edinbro'
Latin, was made on each side of the question. I think, on the whole, the
physicos had the best o' it; for they could show a plausible present
evil, as opposed to a possible remote good."
"Has Sir Wycherly mentioned my name this morning?" asked the
vice-admiral, with interest.
"He has, indeed, Sir Gervaise; and that in a way so manifestly connected
with his will, that I'm opining ye'll no be forgotten in the legacies.
The name of Bluewater was in his mouth, also."
"In which case no time should be lost; for, never before have I felt
half the interest in the disposition of a stranger's estate. Hark! Are
not those wheels rattling in the court-yard?"
"Ye'r senses are most pairfect, Sir Gervaise, and that I've always said
was one reason why ye'r so great an admiral," returned Magrath. "Mind,
only _one_, Sir Gervaise; for many qualities united, are necessary to
make a truly great man. I see a middle-aged gentleman alighting, and
servants around him, who wear the same liveries as those of this house.
Some relative, no doubt, come to look after the legacies, also."
"This must be Sir Reginald Wychecombe; it may not be amiss if we go
forward to receive him, Bluewater."
At this suggestion, the rear-admiral drew in his legs, which had not
changed their position on account of the presence of the surgeon, arose,
and followed Sir Gervaise, as the latter left the room.