"_Videsne quis venit?_"
"_Video, et gaudeo._"
NATHANIEL ET HOLOFERNES.
Tom Wychecombe had experienced an uneasiness that it is unnecessary to
explain, ever since he learned that his reputed uncle had sent a
messenger to bring the "half-blood" to the Hall. From the moment he got
a clue to the fact, he took sufficient pains to ascertain what was in
the wind; and when Sir Reginald Wychecombe entered the house, the first
person he met was this spurious supporter of the honours of his name.
"Sir Reginald Wychecombe, I presume, from the arms and the liveries,"
said Tom, endeavouring to assume the manner of a host. "It is grateful
to find that, though we are separated by quite two centuries, all the
usages and the bearings of the family are equally preserved and
respected, by both its branches."
"I am Sir Reginald Wychecombe, sir, and endeavour not to forget the
honourable ancestry from which I am derived. May I ask what kinsman I
have the pleasure now to meet?"
"Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, sir, at your command; the _eldest_ son of Sir
Wycherly's next brother, the late Mr. Baron Wychecombe. I trust, Sir
Reginald, you have not considered us as so far removed in blood, as to
have entirely overlooked our births, marriages, and deaths."
"I have _not_, sir," returned the baronet, drily, and with an emphasis
that disturbed his listener, though the cold jesuitical smile that
accompanied the words, had the effect to calm his vivid apprehensions.
"_All_ that relates to the house of Wychecombe has interest in my eyes;
and I have endeavoured, successfully I trust, to ascertain _all_ that
relates to its births, _marriages_, and deaths. I greatly regret that
the second time I enter this venerable dwelling, should be on an
occasion as melancholy as this, on which I am now summoned. How is your
respectable--how is Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, I wish to say?"
There was sufficient in this answer, taken in connection with the
deliberate, guarded, and yet expressive manner of the speaker to make
Tom extremely uncomfortable, though there was also sufficient to leave
him in doubts as to his namesake's true meaning. The words emphasized by
the latter, were touched lightly, though distinctly; and the cold,
artificial smile with which they were uttered, completely baffled the
sagacity of a rogue, as common-place as the heir-expectant. Then the
sudden change in the construction of the last sentence, and the
substitution of the name of the person mentioned, for the degree of
affinity in which he was supposed to stand to Tom, might be merely a
rigid observance of the best tone of society, or it might be equivocal.
All these little distinctions gleamed across the mind of Tom Wychecombe;
but that was not the moment to pursue the investigation. Courtesy
required that he should make an immediate answer, which he succeeded in
doing steadily enough as to general appearances, though his sagacious
and practised questioner perceived that his words had not failed of
producing the impression he intended; for he had looked to their
establishing a species of authority over the young man.
"My honoured and beloved uncle has revived a little, they tell me," said
Tom; "but I fear these appearances are delusive. After eighty-four,
death has a fearful hold upon us, sir! The worst of it is, that my poor,
dear uncle's mind is sensibly affected; and it is quite impossible to
get at any of his little wishes, in the way of memorials and messages--"
"How then, sir, came Sir Wycherly to honour _me_ with a request to visit
him?" demanded the other, with an extremely awkward pertinency.
"I suppose, sir, he has succeeded in muttering your name, and that a
natural construction has been put on its use, at such a moment. His will
has been made some time, I understand; though I am ignorant of even the
name of the executor, as it is closed in an envelope, and sealed with
Sir Wycherly's arms. It cannot be, then, on account of a _will_, that he
has wished to see you. I rather think, as the next of the family, _out
of the direct line of succession_, he may have ventured to name you as
the executor of the will in existence, and has thought it proper to
notify you of the same."
"Yes, sir," returned Sir Reginald, in his usual cold, wary manner;
"though it would have been more in conformity with usage, had the
notification taken the form of a request to serve, previously to making
the testament. My letter was signed 'Gervaise Oakes,' and, as they tell
me a fleet is in the neighbourhood, I have supposed that the celebrated
admiral of that name, has done me the honour to write it."
"You are not mistaken, sir; Sir Gervaise Oakes is in the house--ah--here
he comes to receive you, accompanied by Rear-Admiral Bluewater, whom the
sailors call his mainmast."
The foregoing conversation had taken place in a little parlour that led
off from the great hall, whither Tom had conducted his guest, and in
which the two admirals now made their appearance. Introductions were
scarcely necessary, the uniform and star--for in that age officers
usually appeared in their robes--the uniform and star of Sir Gervaise at
once proclaiming his rank and name; while, between Sir Reginald and
Bluewater there existed a slight personal acquaintance, which had grown
out of their covert, but deep, Jacobite sympathies.
"Sir Gervaise Oakes," and "Sir Reginald Wychecombe," passed between the
gentlemen, with a hearty shake of the hand from the admiral, which was
met by a cold touch of the fingers on the part of the other, that might
very well have passed for the great model of the sophisticated
manipulation of the modern salute, but which, in fact, was the result of
temperament rather than of fashion. As soon as this ceremony was gone
through, and a few brief expressions of courtesy were exchanged, the new
comer turned to Bluewater, with an air of greater freedom, and
continued--
"And you, too, Sir Richard Bluewater! I rejoice to meet an acquaintance
in this melancholy scene."
"I am happy to see you, Sir Reginald; though you have conferred on me a
title to which I have no proper claim."
"No!--the papers tell us that you have received one of the lately vacant
red ribands?"
"I believe some such honour has been in contemplation--"
"Contemplation!--I do assure you, sir, your name is fairly and
distinctly gazetted--as, by sending to my carriage, it will be in my
power to show you. I am, then, the first to call you Sir Richard."
"Excuse me, Sir Reginald--there is some little misapprehension in this
matter; I prefer to remain plain Rear-Admiral Bluewater. In due season,
all will be explained."
The parties exchanged looks, which, in times like those in which they
lived, were sufficiently intelligible to both; and the conversation was
instantly changed. Before Sir Reginald relinquished the hand he held,
however, he gave it a cordial squeeze, an intimation that was returned
by a warm pressure from Bluewater. The party then began to converse of
Sir Wycherly, his actual condition, and his probable motive in desiring
to see his distant kinsman. This motive, Sir Gervaise, regardless of the
presence of Tom Wychecombe, declared to be a wish to make a will; and,
as he believed, the intention of naming Sir Reginald his executor, if
not in some still more interesting capacity.
"I understand Sir Wycherly has a considerable sum entirely at his own
disposal," continued the vice-admiral; "and I confess I like to see a
man remember his friends and servants, generously, in his last moments.
The estate is entailed, I hear; and I suppose Mr. Thomas Wychecombe
here, will be none the worse for that precaution in his ancestor; let
the old gentleman do as he pleases with his savings."
Sir Gervaise was so much accustomed to command, that he did not feel the
singularity of his own interference in the affairs of a family of what
might be called strangers, though the circumstance struck Sir Reginald,
as a little odd. Nevertheless, the last had sufficient penetration to
understand the vice-admiral's character at a glance, and the peculiarity
made no lasting impression. When the allusion was made to Tom's
succession, as a matter of course, however, he cast a cold, but
withering look, at the reputed heir, which almost chilled the marrow in
the bones of the jealous rogue.
"Might I say a word to you, in your own room, Sir Gervaise?" asked Sir
Reginald, in an aside. "These matters ought not to be indecently
hurried; and I wish to understand the ground better, before I advance."
This question was overheard by Bluewater; who, begging the gentlemen to
remain where they were, withdrew himself, taking Tom Wychecombe with
him. As soon as they were alone, Sir Reginald drew from his companion,
by questions warily but ingeniously put, a history of all that had
occurred within the last twenty-four hours; a knowledge of the really
helpless state of Sir Wycherly, and of the manner in which he himself
had been summoned, included. When satisfied, he expressed a desire to
see the sick man.
"By the way, Sir Reginald," said the vice-admiral, with his hand on the
lock of the door, arresting his own movement to put the question; "I
see, by your manner of expressing yourself, that the law has not been
entirely overlooked in your education. Do you happen to know what
'half-blood' means? it is either a medical or a legal term, and I
understand few but nautical."
"You could not apply to any man in England, Sir Gervaise, better
qualified to tell you," answered the Hertfordshire baronet, smiling
expressively. "I am a barrister of the Middle Temple, having been
educated as a younger son, and having since succeeded an elder brother,
at the age of twenty-seven; I stand in the unfortunate relation of the
'half-blood' myself, to this very estate, on which we are now
conversing."
Sir Reginald then proceeded to explain the law to the other, as we have
already pointed it out to the reader; performing the duty succinctly,
but quite clearly.
"Bless me!--bless me! Sir Reginald," exclaimed the direct-minded and
_just_-minded sailor--"here must be some mistake! A fortieth cousin, or
the king, take this estate before yourself, though you are directly
descended from all the old Wychecombes of the times of the
Plantagenets!"
"Such is the common law, Sir Gervaise. Were I Sir Wycherly's
half-brother, or a son by a second wife of our common father, I could
not take from _him_, although that common father had earned the estate
by his own hands, or services."
"This is damnable, sir--damnable--and you'll pardon me, but I can hardly
believe we have such a monstrous principle in the good, honest,
well-meaning laws, of good, honest, well-meaning old England!"
Sir Reginald was one of the few lawyers of his time, who did not
recognize the virtue of this particular provision of the common law; a
circumstance that probably arose from his having so _small_ an interest
now in the mysteries of the profession, and so _large_ an interest in
the family estate of Wychecombe, destroyed by its _dictum_. He was,
consequently, less surprised, and not at all hurt, at the evident manner
in which the sailor repudiated his statement, as doing violence equally
to reason, justice, and probability.
"Good, honest, well-meaning old England tolerates many grievous things,
notwithstanding, Sir Gervaise," he answered; "among others, it tolerates
the law of the half-blood. Much depends on the manner in which men view
these things; that which seems gold to one, resembling silver in the
eyes of another. Now, I dare say,"--this was said as a feeler, and with
a smile that might pass for ironical or confiding, as the listener
pleased to take it--"Now, I dare say, the clans would tell us that
England tolerates an usurper, while her lawful prince was in banishment;
though _you_ and _I_ might not feel disposed to allow it."
Sir Gervaise started, and cast a quick, suspicious glance at the
speaker; but there the latter stood, with as open and guileless an
expression on his handsome features, as was ever seen in the countenance
of confiding sixteen.
"Your supposititious case is no parallel," returned the vice-admiral,
losing every shade of suspicion, at this appearance of careless
frankness; "since men often follow their feelings in their allegiance,
while the law is supposed to be governed by reason and justice. But, now
we are on the subject, will you tell me. Sir Reginald, if you also know
what a _nullus_ is?"
"I have no farther knowledge of the subject, Sir Gervaise," returned the
other, smiling, this time, quite naturally; "than is to be found in the
Latin dictionaries and grammars."
"Ay--you mean _nullus, nulla, nullum_. Even we sailors know _that_;
as we all go to school before we go to sea. But, Sir Wycherly, in
efforts to make himself understood, called you a 'half-blood.'"
"And quite correctly--I admit such to be the fact; and that I have no
more _legal_ claim, whatever on this estate, than you have yourself. My
_moral_ right, however, may be somewhat better."
"It is much to your credit, that you so frankly admit it, Sir Reginald;
for, hang me, if I think even the judges would dream of raising such an
objection to your succeeding, unless reminded of it."
"Therein you do them injustice, Sir Gervaise; as it is their duty to
administer the laws, let them be what they may."
"Perhaps you are right, sir. But the reason for my asking what a
_nullus_ is, was the circumstance that Sir Wycherly, in the course of
his efforts to speak, repeatedly called his nephew and heir, Mr. Thomas
Wychecombe, by that epithet."
"Did he, indeed?--Was the epithet, as you well term it, _filius
nullius_?"
"I rather think it was _nullus_--though I do believe the word _filius_
was muttered, once or twice, also."
"Yes, sir, this has been the case; and I am not sorry Sir Wycherly is
aware of the fact, as I hear that the young man affects to consider
himself in a different point of view. A _filius nullius_ is the legal
term for a bastard--the 'son of nobody,' as you will at once understand.
I am fully aware that such is the unfortunate predicament of Mr. Thomas
Wychecombe, whose father, I possess complete evidence to show, was never
married to his mother."
"And yet, Sir Reginald, the impudent rascal carries in his pocket even,
a certificate, signed by some parish priest in London, to prove the
contrary."
The civil baronet seemed surprised at this assertion of his military
brother; but Sir Gervaise explaining what had passed between himself and
the young man, he could no longer entertain any doubt of the fact.
"Since you have seen the document," resumed Sir Reginald, "it must,
indeed, be so; and this misguided boy is prepared to take any desperate
step in order to obtain the title and the estate. All that he has said
about a will must be fabulous, as no man in his senses would risk his
neck to obtain so hollow a distinction as a baronetcy--we are equally
members of the class, and may speak frankly, Sir Gervaise--and the will
would secure the estate, if there were one. I cannot think, therefore,
that there is a will at all."
"If this will were not altogether to the fellow's liking, would not the
marriage, beside the hollow honour of which you have spoken, put the
whole of the landed property in his possession, under the entail?"
"It would, indeed; and I thank you for the suggestion. If, however, Sir
Wycherly is desirous, _now_, of making a _new_ will, and has strength
and mind sufficient to execute his purpose, the _old_ one need give us
no concern. This is a most delicate affair for one in my situation to
engage in, sir; and I greatly rejoice that I find such honourable and
distinguished witnesses, in the house, to clear my reputation, should
any thing occur to require such exculpation. On the one side, Sir
Gervaise, there is the danger of an ancient estate's falling into the
hands of the crown, and this, too, while one of no _stain_ of blood,
derived from the same honourable ancestors as the last possessor, is in
existence; or, on the other, of its becoming the prey of one of base
blood, and of but very doubtful character. The circumstance that Sir
Wycherly desired my presence, is a great deal; and I trust to you, and
to those with you, to vindicate the fairness of my course. If it's your
pleasure, sir, we will now go to the sick chamber."
"With all my heart. I think, however, Sir Reginald," said the
vice-admiral, as he approached the door; "that even in the event of an
escheat, you would find these Brunswick princes sufficiently liberal to
restore the property. I could not answer for those wandering Scotchmen;
who have so many breechless nobles to enrich; but, I think, with the
Hanoverians, you would be safe."
"The last have certainly one recommendation the most," returned the
other, smiling courteously, but in a way so equivocal that even Sir
Gervaise was momentarily struck by it; "they have fed so well, now, at
the crib, that they may not have the same voracity, as those who have
been long fasting. It would be, however, more pleasant to take these
lands from a Wychecombe--a Wychecombe to a Wychecombe--than to receive
them anew from even the Plantagenet who made the first grant."
This terminated the private dialogue, as the colloquists entered the
hall, just as the last speaker concluded. Wycherly was conversing,
earnestly, with Mrs. Dutton and Mildred, at the far end of the hall,
when the baronets appeared; but, catching the eye of the admiral, he
said a few words hastily to his companions, and joined the two
gentlemen, who were now on their way to the sick man's chamber.
"Here is a namesake, if not a relative, Sir Reginald," observed Sir
Gervaise, introducing the lieutenant; "and one, I rejoice to say, of
whom all of even your honourable name have reason to be proud."
Sir Reginald's bow was courteous and bland, as the admiral proceeded to
complete the introduction; but Wycherly felt that the keen, searching
look he bestowed on himself, was disagreeable.
"I am not at all aware, that I have the smallest claim to the honour of
being Sir Reginald Wychecombe's relative," he said, with cold reserve.
"Indeed, until last evening, I was ignorant of the existence of the
Hertfordshire branch of this family; and you will remember, Sir
Gervaise, that I am a Virginian."
"A Virginian!" exclaimed his namesake, taken so much by surprise as to
lose a little of his self-command, "I did not know, indeed, that any who
bear the name had found their way to the colonies."
"And if they had, sir, they would have met with a set of fellows every
way fit to be their associates, Sir Reginald. We English are a little
clannish--I hate the word, too; it has such a narrow Scotch sound--but
we _are_ clannish, although generally provided with garments to our
nether limbs; and we sometimes look down upon even a son, whom the love
of adventure has led into that part of the world. In my view an
Englishman is an Englishman, let him come from what part of the empire
he may. That is what I call genuine liberality, Sir Reginald."
"Quite true, Sir Gervaise; and a Scotchman is a Scotchman, even though
he come from the north of Tweed."
This was quietly said, but the vice-admiral felt the merited rebuke it
contained, and he had the good-nature and the good sense to laugh at it,
and to admit his own prejudices. This little encounter brought the party
to Sir Wycherly's door, where all three remained until it was
ascertained that they might enter.
The next quarter of an hour brought about a great change in the
situation of all the principal inmates of Wychecombe Hall. The interdict
was taken off the rooms of Sir Wycherly, and in them had collected all
the gentlemen, Mrs. Dutton and her daughter, with three or four of the
upper servants of the establishment. Even Galleygo contrived to thrust
his ungainly person in, among the rest, though he had the discretion to
keep in the background among his fellows. In a word, both dressing-room
and bed-room had their occupants, though the last was principally filled
by the medical men, and those whose rank gave them claims to be near the
person of the sick.
It was now past a question known that poor Sir Wycherly was on his
death-bed. His mind had sensibly improved, nor was his speech any worse;
but his physical system generally had received a shock that rendered
recovery hopeless. It was the opinion of the physicians that he might
possibly survive several days; or, that he might be carried off, in a
moment, by a return of the paralytic affection.
The baronet, himself, appeared to be perfectly conscious of his
situation; as was apparent by the anxiety he expressed to get his
friends together, and more especially the concern he felt to make a due
disposition of his worldly affairs. The medical men had long resisted
both wishes, until, convinced that the question was reduced to one of a
few hours more or less of life, and that denial was likely to produce
worse effects than compliance, they finally and unanimously consented.
"It's no a great concession to mortal infirmity to let a dying man have
his way," whispered Magrath to the two admirals, as the latter entered
the room. "Sir Wycherly is a hopeless case, and we'll just consent to
let him make a few codicils, seeing that he so fairvently desires it;
and then there may be fewer hopeless deevils left behind him, when he's
gathered to his forefathers."
"Here we are, my dear Sir Wycherly," said the vice-admiral, who never
lost an occasion to effect his purpose, by any unnecessary delay; "here
we all are anxious to comply with your wishes. Your kinsman, Sir
Reginald Wychecombe, is also present, and desirous of doing your
pleasure."
It was a painful sight to see a man on his death-bed, so anxious to
discharge the forms of the world, as the master of the Hall now appeared
to be. There had been an unnecessary alienation between the heads of the
two branches of the family; not arising from any quarrel, or positive
cause of disagreement, but from a silent conviction in both parties,
that each was unsuited to the other. They had met a few times, and
always parted without regret. The case was now different; the separation
was, in one sense at least, to be eternal; and all minor considerations,
all caprices of habits or despotism of tastes, faded before the solemn
impressions of the moment. Still, Sir Wycherly could not forget that he
was master of Wychecombe, and that his namesake was esteemed a man of
refinement; and, in his simple way of thinking he would fain have
arisen, in order to do him honour. A little gentle violence, even, was
necessary to keep the patient quiet.
"Much honoured, sir--greatly pleased," muttered Sir Wycherly, the
words coming from him with difficulty. "Same ancestors--same
name--Plantagenets--old house, sir--head go, new one come--none better,
than--"
"Do not distress yourself to speak, unnecessarily, my dear sir,"
interrupted Sir Reginald, with more tenderness for the patient than
consideration for his own interest, as the next words promised to relate
to the succession. "Sir Gervaise Oakes tells me, he understands your
wishes, generally, and that he is now prepared to gratify them. First
relieve your mind, in matters of business; and, then, I shall be most
happy to exchange with you the feelings of kindred."
"Yes, Sir Wycherly," put in Sir Gervaise, on this hint; "I believe I
have now found the clue to all you wish to say. The few words written by
you, last night, were the commencement of a will, which it is your
strong desire to make. Do not speak, but raise your right hand, if I am
not mistaken."
The sick man actually stretched his right arm above the bed-clothes, and
his dull eyes lighted with an expression of pleasure, that proved how
strongly his feelings were enlisted in the result.
"You see, gentlemen!" said Sir Gervaise, with emphasis. "No one can
mistake the meaning of this! Come nearer, doctor--Mr. Rotherham--all who
have no probable interest in the affair--I wish it to be seen that Sir
Wycherly Wychecombe is desirous of making his will."
The vice-admiral now went through the ceremony of repeating his request,
and got the same significant answer.
"So I understood it, Sir Wycherly, and I believe now I also understand
all about the 'half,' and the 'whole,' and the '_nullus_.' You meant to
tell us that your kinsman, Sir Reginald Wychecombe, was of the
'half-blood' as respects yourself, and that Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, your
nephew, is what is termed in law--however painful this may be,
gentlemen, at such solemn moments the truth must be plainly spoken--that
Mr. Thomas Wychecombe is what the law terms a '_filius nullius_.' If we
have understood you in this, also, have the goodness to give this
company the same sign of assent."
The last words were scarcely spoken, before Sir Wycherly again raised
his arm, and nodded his head.
"Here there can be no mistake, and no one rejoices in it more than I do
myself; for, the unintelligible words gave me a great deal of vexation.
Well, my dear sir, understanding your wishes, my secretary, Mr. Atwood,
has drawn the commencement of a will, in the usual form, using your own
pious and proper language of--'In the name of God, Amen,' as the
commencement; and he stands ready to write down your bequests, as you
may see fit to name them. We will take them, first, on a separate piece
of paper; then read them to you, for your approbation; and afterwards,
transcribe them into the will. I believe, Sir Reginald, that mode would
withstand the subtleties of all the gentlemen of all the Inns of Court?"
"It is a very proper and prudent mode for executing a will, sir, under
the peculiar circumstances," returned he of Hertfordshire. "But, Sir
Gervaise, my situation, here, is a little delicate, as may be that of
Mr. Thomas Wychecombe--others of the name and family, if any such there
be. Would it not be well to inquire if our presence is actually desired
by the intended testator?"
"Is it your wish, Sir Wycherly, that your kinsmen and namesakes remain
in the room, or shall they retire until the will is executed? I will
call over the names of the company, and when you wish any one, in
particular, to stay in the room, you will nod your head."
"All--all stay," muttered Sir Wycherly; "Sir
Reginald--Tom--Wycherly--all--"
"This seems explicit enough, gentlemen," resumed the vice-admiral. "You
are _all_ requested to stay; and, if I might venture an opinion, our
poor friend has named those on whom he intends his bequests to fall--and
pretty much, too, in the order in which they will come."
"That will appear more unanswerably when Sir Wycherly has expressed his
intentions in words," observed Sir Reginald, very desirous that there
should not be the smallest appearance of dictation or persuasion offered
to his kinsman, at a moment so grave. "Let me entreat that no leading
questions be put."
"Sir Gervaise understands leading in battle, much better than in a
cross-examination, Sir Reginald," Bluewater observed, in a tone so low,
that none heard him but the person to whom the words were addressed. "I
think we shall sooner get at Sir Wycherly's wishes, by allowing him to
take his own course."
The other bowed, and appeared disposed to acquiesce. In the mean time
preparations were making for the construction of the will. Atwood seated
himself at a table near the bed, and commenced nibbing his pens; the
medical men administered a cordial; Sir Gervaise caused all the
witnesses to range themselves around the room, in a way that each might
fairly see, and be seen; taking care, however, so to dispose of
Wycherly, as to leave no doubt of his handsome person's coming into the
sick man's view. The lieutenant's modesty might have rebelled at this
arrangement, had he not found himself immediately at the side of
Mildred.