Part 17 (1/2)
”What _can_ the poor fellow mean?” demanded the admiral, more concerned than 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 to me--can you make any thing of it,--hey! Atwood?”
”Upon my word, Sir Gervaise, it seems a matter for a judge, rather than for 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 last moments, 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 the will round,' I conceive to be altogether explicit. Several capital treatises have appeared lately on the 'human will,' and I regret to say, my honoured friend and patron has not always been quite as orthodox on that point, as I could wish. I, therefore, consider his words as evidence of a hearty repentance.”
Sir Gervaise looked about him, as was his habit when any droll idea crossed his mind; but again suppressing the inclination to smile, he answered with suitable gravity--
”I understand you, sir; you think all these inexplicable terms are connected with Sir Wycherly's religious feelings. You may certainly be right, for it exceeds my knowledge to connect them with any thing else.
I wish, notwithstanding, he had not disowned this n.o.ble young lieutenant of ours! Is it quite certain the young man is a Virginian?”
”So I have always understood it, sir. He has never been known in this part of England, until he was landed from a frigate in the roads, to be cured of a serious wound. I think none of Sir Wycherly's allusions have the least reference to _him_.”
Sir Gervaise Oakes now joined his hands behind his back, and walked several times, quarter-deck fas.h.i.+on, to and fro, in the room. At each turn, his eyes glanced towards the bed, and he ever found the gaze of the sick man anxiously fastened on himself. This satisfied him that religion had nothing to do with his host's manifest desire to make himself understood; and his own trouble was greatly increased. It seemed to 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 a generous man, like Sir Gervaise, to submit to such a feeling without an effort; and he soon went to the side of the bed, again, determined to bring 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--if you please.”
Sir Gervaise was delighted with this, and he immediately directed his companions to lend their a.s.sistance. Atwood and the vicar bolstered the old man up, and the admiral put the writing materials before him, subst.i.tuting a large quarto bible for a desk. Sir Wycherly, after several abortive attempts, finally got the pen in his hand, and with great difficulty traced six or seven nearly illegible words, running the line diagonally across the paper. By this time his powers failed him altogether, and he sunk back, dropping the pen, and closing his eyes in a partial insensibility. At this critical instant, the surgeon entered, and at once put an end to the interview, by taking charge of the patient, and directing all but one or two necessary attendants, to quit the room.
The three chosen witnesses of what had just past, repaired together to a parlour; Atwood, by a sort of mechanical habit, taking with him the paper on which the baronet had scrawled the words just mentioned. This, by a sort of mechanical use, also, he put into the hands of Sir Gervaise, as soon as they entered the room; much as he would have laid before his superior, an order to sign, or a copy of a letter to the secretary of the Navy Board.
”This is as bad as the '_nullus_!'” exclaimed Sir Gervaise, after endeavouring 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 than is necessary.”
”You are right enough, vicar; and the next word is 'the,' though it looks 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 should call an elongated n--the next is certainly an a--the third looks like the waves of a river--ah! it is an m--and the last is an e--n-a-m-e--that makes 'name,' gentlemen.”
”Yes,” eagerly added the vicar, ”and the two next words are, 'of G.o.d.'”
”Then it is religion, after all, that was on the poor man's mind!”
exclaimed Sir Gervaise, in a slight degree disappointed, if the truth must 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, Sir Gervaise,” observed the secretary, who had written many a one, on board s.h.i.+p, in his day. ”'In the name of G.o.d, Amen.'”
”By George, you're right, Atwood; and the poor man was trying, all the while, to let us know how he wished to dispose of his property! What could he mean by the _nullus_--it is not possible that the old gentleman has 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 already in the house, and Bluewater will send ash.o.r.e one or two others from the fleet. In the morning, if Sir Wycherly is in a state to converse, this matter shall be attended to.”