Part 27 (1/2)
”It is gone, already, sir, every s.h.i.+lling of it having been sent to the widow of the boatswain who was killed at my side. I am no beggar, Sir Gervaise Oakes, though only an American. I am the owner of a plantation, which affords me a respectable independence, already; and I do not serve from necessity, but from choice. Perhaps, if Sir Wycherly knew this, he would consent to omit my name. I honour and respect him; would gladly relieve his distress, either of body or mind; but I cannot consent to accept his money when offered on terms I consider humiliating.”
This was said modestly, but with a warmth and sincerity which left no doubt that the speaker was in earnest. Sir Gervaise too much respected the feelings of the young man to urge the matter any further, and he turned towards the bed, in expectation of what the sick man might next say. Sir Wycherly heard and understood all that pa.s.sed, and it did not fail to produce an impression, even in the state to which he was reduced. Kind-hearted, and indisposed to injure even a fly, all the natural feelings of the old man resumed their ascendency, and he would gladly have given every s.h.i.+lling of his funded property to be able freely to express his compunction at having ever uttered a syllable that could offend sensibilities so n.o.ble and generous. But this exceeded his powers, and he was fain to do the best he could, in the painful situation in which he was placed.
”n.o.ble fellow!” he stuttered out; ”honour to name--come here--Sir Gervaise--bring here--”
”I believe it is the wish of Sir Wycherly, that you would draw near the bed, Mr. Wychecombe of _Virginia_,” said the vice-admiral, pithily, though he extended a hand to, and smiled kindly on, the youth as the latter pa.s.sed him in compliance.
The sick man now succeeded, with a good deal of difficulty, in drawing a valuable signet-ring from a finger.--This ring bore the Wychecombe arms, engraved on it. It was without the b.l.o.o.d.y hand, however; for it was far older than the order of baronets, having, as Wycherly well knew, been given by one of the Plantagenet Dukes to an ancestor of the family, during the French wars of Henry VI., and that, too, in commemoration of some signal act of gallantry in the field.
”Wear this--n.o.ble fellow--honour to name,” said Sir Wycherly. ”_Must_ be descended--all Wychecombes descended--him--”
”I thank you, Sir Wycherly, for this present, which I prize as it ought to be prized,” said Wycherly, every trace of any other feeling than that of grat.i.tude having vanished from his countenance. ”I may have no claims to your honours or money; but this ring I need not be ashamed to wear, since it was bestowed on one who was as much _my_ ancestor, as he was the ancestor of any Wychecombe in England.”
”Legitimate?” cried Tom, a fierce feeling of resentment upsetting his caution and cunning.
”Yes, sir, _legitimate_,” answered Wycherly, turning to his interrogator, with the calmness of one conscious of his own truth, and with a glance of the eye that caused Tom to shrink back again into the circle. ”I need no _bar_, to enable me to use this seal, which, you may perceive, Sir Gervaise Oakes, is a _fac simile_ of the one I ordinarily wear, and which was transmitted to me from my direct ancestors.”
The vice-admiral compared the seal on Wycherly's watch-chain with that on the ring, and, the bearings being princ.i.p.ally griffins, he was enabled to see that one was the exact counterpart of the other. Sir Reginald advanced a step, and when the admiral had satisfied himself, he also took the two seals and compared them. As all the known branches of the Wychecombes of Wychecombe, bore the same arms, viz., griffins for Wychecombe, with three battering-rams quartered, for Wycherly,--he saw, at once, that the young man habitually carried about his person, this proof of a common origin. Sir Reginald knew very well that arms were often a.s.sumed, as well as names, and the greater the obscurity of the individual who took these liberties, the greater was his impunity; but the seal was a very ancient one, and innovations on personal rights were far less frequent a century since, than they are to-day. Then the character and appearance of Wycherly put fraud out of the question, so far as the young lieutenant himself was concerned. Although the elder branch of the family, legitimately speaking, was reduced to the helpless old man who was now stretched upon his death-bed, his own had been extensive; and it well might be that some cadet of the Wychecombes of Wychecombe-Regis, had strayed into the colonies and left descendants.
Secretly resolving to look more closely into these facts, he gravely returned the seals, and intimated to Sir Gervaise that the more important business before them had better proceed. On this hint, Atwood resumed the pen, and the vice-admiral his duties.
”There want yet some 6 or 7000 to make up 20,000, Sir Wycherly, which I understand is the sum you have in the funds. Whose name or names will you have next inserted?”
”Rotherham--vicar--poor St. James--gone; yes--Mr.--Rotherham--vicar.”
The clause was written, the sum of 1000 was inserted, and the whole was read and approved.
”This still leaves us some 5000 more to deal with, my dear sir?”
A long pause succeeded, during which time Sir Wycherly was deliberating what to do with the rest of his ready money. At length his wandering eye rested on the pale features of Mrs. Dutton; and, while he had a sort of liking, that proceeded from habit, for her husband, he remembered that she had many causes for sorrow. With a feeling that was creditable to his own heart, he uttered her name, and the sum of 2000. The clause was written, accordingly, read and approved.
”We have still 3000 certainly, if not 4000,” added Sir Gervaise.
”Milly--dear little--Milly--pretty Milly,” stammered out the baronet, affectionately.
”This must go into a codicil, Sir Gervaise,” interrupted Atwood; ”there being already one legacy in the young lady's favour. Shall it be one, two, three, or four thousand pounds, Sir Wycherly, in favour of Miss Mildred, to whom you have already bequeathed 3000.”
The sick man muttered the words ”three thousand,” after a short pause, adding ”codicil.”
His wishes were complied with, and the whole was read and approved.
After this, Sir Gervaise inquired if the testator wished to make any more devises. Sir Wycherly, who had in effect bequeathed, within a few hundred pounds, all he had to bestow, bethought himself, for a few moments, of the state of his affairs, and then he signified his satisfaction with what had been done.
”As it is possible, Sir Wycherly, that you may have overlooked something,” said Sir Gervaise, ”and it is better that nothing should escheat to the crown, I will suggest the expediency of your making some one residuary legatee.”
The poor old man smiled an a.s.sent, and then he succeeded in muttering the name of ”Sir Reginald Wychecombe.”
This clause, like all the others, was written, read, and approved. The will was now completed, and preparations were made to read it carefully over to the intended testator. In order that this might be done with sufficient care for future objections, the two admirals and Atwood, who were selected for the witnesses, each read the testament himself, in order to say that nothing was laid before the testator but that which was fairly contained in the instrument, and that nothing was omitted.
When all was ready, the will was audibly and slowly read to Sir Wycherly, by the secretary, from the beginning to the end. The old man listened with great attention; smiled when Mildred's name was mentioned; and clearly expressed, by signs and words, his entire satisfaction when all was ended. It remained only to place a pen in his hand, and to give him such a.s.sistance as would enable him to affix his name twice; once to the body of the instrument; and, when this was duly witnessed, then again to the codicil. By this time, Tom Wychecombe thought that the moment for interposing had arrived. He had been on thorns during the whole proceeding, forming desperate resolutions to sustain the bold fraud of his legitimacy, and thus take all the lands and heirlooms of the estate, under the entail; still he well knew that a subordinate but important question might arise, as between the validity of the two wills, in connection with Sir Wycherly's competency to make the last. It was material, therefore, in his view of the case, to enter a protest.
”Gentlemen,” he said, advancing to the foot of the bed; ”I call on you all to observe the nature of this whole transaction. My poor, beloved, but misled uncle, no longer ago than last night, was struck with a fit of apoplexy, or something so very near it as to disqualify him to judge in these matters; and here he is urged to make a will--”