Part 21 (2/2)

”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 Hertfords.h.i.+re 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 a.s.sumed name. He proposed venturing on this step, because circ.u.mstances 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 pa.s.s 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 a.s.sumed 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 circ.u.mstance 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 fas.h.i.+on 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 circ.u.mstances, it is not at all surprising, that when the Hertfords.h.i.+re 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 circ.u.mstance 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 s.h.i.+ps, d.i.c.k, 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 s.h.i.+ps 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 antic.i.p.ate?”

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 circ.u.mstances.”

”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, d.i.c.k, 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 att.i.tude 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.”

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