CHAPTER I.
"Then, if he were my brother's. My brother might not claim him; nor your father, Being none of his, refuse him: This concludes-- My mother's son did get your father's heir; Your father's heir must have your father's land."
KING JOHN.
The events we are about to relate, occurred near the middle of the lastcentury, previously even to that struggle, which it is the fashion ofAmerica to call "the old French War." The opening scene of our tale,however, must be sought in the other hemisphere, and on the coast of themother country. In the middle of the eighteenth century, the Americancolonies were models of loyalty; the very war, to which there has justbeen allusion, causing the great expenditure that induced the ministryto have recourse to the system of taxation, which terminated in therevolution. The family quarrel had not yet commenced. Intensely occupiedwith the conflict, which terminated not more gloriously for the Britisharms, than advantageously for the British American possessions, theinhabitants of the provinces were perhaps never better disposed to themetropolitan state, than at the very period of which we are about towrite. All their early predilections seemed to be gaining strength,instead of becoming weaker; and, as in nature, the calm is known tosucceed the tempest, the blind attachment of the colony to the parentcountry, was but a precursor of the alienation and violent disunion thatwere so soon to follow.
Although the superiority of the English seamen was well established, inthe conflicts that took place between the years 1740, and that of 1763,the naval warfare of the period by no means possessed the very decidedcharacter with which it became stamped, a quarter of a century later. Inour own times, the British marine appears to have improved in quality,as its enemies, deteriorated. In the year 1812, however, "Greek metGreek," when, of a verity, came "the tug of war." The great change thatcame over the other navies of Europe, was merely a consequence of therevolutions, which drove experienced men into exile, and which, byrendering armies all-important even to the existence of the differentstates, threw nautical enterprises into the shade, and gave anengrossing direction to courage and talent, in another quarter. WhileFrance was struggling, first for independence, and next for the masteryof the continent, a marine was a secondary object; for Vienna, Berlin,and Moscow, were as easily entered without, as with its aid. To these,and other similar causes, must be referred the explanation of theseeming invincibility of the English arms at sea, during the late greatconflicts of Europe; an invincibility that was more apparent than real,however, as many well-established defeats were, even then, intermingledwith her thousand victories.
From the time when her numbers could furnish succour of this nature,down to the day of separation, America had her full share in theexploits of the English marine. The gentry of the colonies willinglyplaced their sons in the royal navy, and many a bit of square buntinghas been flying at the royal mast-heads of King's ships, in thenineteenth century, as the distinguishing symbols of flag-officers, whohad to look for their birth-places among ourselves. In the course of achequered life, in which we have been brought in collision with as greata diversity of rank, professions, and characters, as often falls to thelot of any one individual, we have been thrown into contact with no lessthan eight English admirals, of American birth; while, it has never yetbeen our good fortune to meet with a countryman, who has had this rankbestowed on him by his own government. On one occasion, an Englishman,who had filled the highest civil office connected with the marine of hisnation, observed to us, that the only man he then knew, in the Britishnavy, in whom he should feel an entire confidence in entrusting animportant command, was one of these translated admirals; and the thoughtunavoidably passed through our mind, that this favourite commander haddone well in adhering to the conventional, instead of clinging to hisnatural allegiance, inasmuch as he might have toiled for half a century,in the service of his native land, and been rewarded with a rank thatwould merely put him on a level with a colonel in the army! How muchlonger this short-sighted policy, and grievous injustice, are tocontinue, no man can say; but it is safe to believe, that it is to lastuntil some legislator of influence learns the simple truth, that thefancied reluctance of popular constituencies to do right, oftener existsin the apprehensions of their representatives, than in reality.--But toour tale.
England enjoys a wide-spread reputation for her fogs; but little do theyknow how much a fog may add to natural scenery, who never witnessed itsmagical effects, as it has caused a beautiful landscape to coquette withthe eye, in playful and capricious changes. Our opening scene is in oneof these much derided fogs; though, let it always be remembered, it wasa fog of June, and not of November. On a high head-land of the coast ofDevonshire, stood a little station-house, which had been erected with aview to communicate by signals, with the shipping, that sometimes lay atanchor in an adjacent roadstead. A little inland, was a village, orhamlet, that it suits our purposes to call Wychecombe; and at no greatdistance from the hamlet itself, surrounded by a small park, stood ahouse of the age of Henry VII., which was the abode of Sir WycherlyWychecombe, a baronet of the creation of King James I., and thepossessor of an improveable estate of some three or four thousand ayear, which had been transmitted to him, through a line of ancestors,that ascended as far back as the times of the Plantagenets. NeitherWychecombe, nor the head-land, nor the anchorage, was a place of note;for much larger and more favoured hamlets, villages, and towns, layscattered about that fine portion of England; much better roadsteads andbays could generally be used by the coming or the parting vessel; andfar more important signal-stations were to be met with, all along thatcoast. Nevertheless, the roadstead was entered when calms or adversewinds rendered it expedient; the hamlet had its conveniences, and, likemost English hamlets, its beauties; and the hall and park were notwithout their claims to state and rural magnificence. A century since,whatever the table of precedency or Blackstone may say, an Englishbaronet, particularly one of the date of 1611, was a much greaterpersonage than he is to-day; and an estate of L4000 a year, moreespecially if not rack-rented, was of an extent, and necessarily of alocal consequence, equal to one of near, or quite three times the sameamount, in our own day. Sir Wycherly, however, enjoyed an advantage thatwas of still greater importance, and which was more common in 1745, thanat the present moment. He had no rival within fifteen miles of him, andthe nearest potentate was a nobleman of a rank and fortune that put allcompetition out of the question; one who dwelt in courts, the favouriteof kings; leaving the baronet, as it might be, in undisturbed enjoymentof all the local homage. Sir Wycherly had once been a member ofParliament, and only once. In his youth, he had been a fox-hunter; and asmall property in Yorkshire had long been in the family, as a sort offoothold on such enjoyments; but having broken a leg, in one of hisleaps, he had taken refuge against _ennui_, by sitting a single sessionin the House of Commons, as the member of a borough that lay adjacent tohis hunting-box. This session sufficed for his whole life; the goodbaronet having taken the matter so literally, as to make it a point tobe present at all the sittings; a sort of tax on his time, which, as itcame wholly unaccompanied by profit, was very likely soon to tire outthe patience of an old fox-hunter. After resigning his seat, he retiredaltogether to Wychecombe, where he passed the last fifty years,extolling England, and most especially that part of it in which his ownestates lay; in abusing the French, with occasional inuendoes againstSpain and Holland; and in eating and drinking. He had never travelled;for, though Englishmen of his station often did visit the continent, acentury ago, they oftener did not. It was the courtly and the noble, whothen chiefly took this means of improving their minds and manners; aclass, to which a baronet by no means necessarily belonged. To conclude,Sir Wycherly was now eighty-four; hale, hearty, and a bachelor. He hadbeen born the oldest of five brothers; the cadets taking refuge, asusual, in the inns of court, the church, the army, and the navy; andprecisely in the order named. The lawyer had actually risen to be ajudge, by the style and appellation of Baron Wychecombe; had three
illegitimate children by his housekeeper, and died, leaving to theeldest thereof, all his professional earnings, after buying commissionsfor the two younger in the army. The divine broke his neck, while yet acurate, in a fox-hunt; dying unmarried, and so far as is generallyknown, childless. This was Sir Wycherly's favourite brother; who, he wasaccustomed to say, "lost his life, in setting an example of field-sportsto his parishioners." The soldier was fairly killed in battle, before hewas twenty; and the name of the sailor suddenly disappeared from thelist of His Majesty's lieutenants, about half a century before the timewhen our tale opens, by shipwreck. Between the sailor and the head ofthe family, however, there had been no great sympathy; in consequence,as it was rumoured, of a certain beauty's preference for the latter,though this preference produced no _suites_, inasmuch as the lady died amaid. Mr. Gregory Wychecombe, the lieutenant in question, was what istermed a "wild boy;" and it was the general impression, when his parentssent him to sea, that the ocean would now meet with its match. The hopesof the family centred in the judge, after the death of the curate, andit was a great cause of regret, to those who took an interest in itsperpetuity and renown, that this dignitary did not marry; since thepremature death of all the other sons had left the hall, park, andgoodly farms, without any known legal heir. In a word, this branch ofthe family of Wychecombe would be extinct, when Sir Wycherly died, andthe entail become useless. Not a female inheritor, even, or a maleinheritor through females, could be traced; and it had become imperativeon Sir Wycherly to make a will, lest the property should go off, theLord knew where; or, what was worse, it should escheat. It is true, TomWychecombe, the judge's eldest son, often gave dark hints about asecret, and a timely marriage between his parents, a fact that wouldhave superseded the necessity for all devises, as the property wasstrictly tied up, so far as the lineal descendants of a certain _old_Sir Wycherly were concerned; but the present Sir Wycherly had seen hisbrother, in his last illness, on which occasion, the followingconversation had taken place.
"And now, brother Thomas," said the baronet, in a friendly and consolingmanner; "having, as one may say, prepared your soul for heaven, by theseprayers and admissions of your sins, a word may be prudently said,concerning the affairs of this world. You know I am childless--that isto say,--"
"I understand you, Wycherly," interrupted the dying man, "you're a_bachelor_."
"That's it, Thomas; and bachelors _ought_ not to have children. Had ourpoor brother James escaped that mishap, he might have been sitting atyour bed-side at this moment, and _he_ could have told us all about it.St. James I used to call him; and well did he deserve the name!"
"St. James the Least, then, it must have been, Wycherly."
"It's a dreadful thing to have no heir, Thomas! Did you ever know a casein your practice, in which another estate was left so completely withoutan heir, as this of ours?"
"It does not often happen, brother; heirs are usually more abundant thanestates."
"So I thought. Will the king get the title as well as the estate,brother, if it should escheat, as you call it?"
"Being the fountain of honour, he will be rather indifferent about thebaronetcy."
"I should care less if it went to the next sovereign, who is Englishborn. Wychecombe has always belonged to Englishmen."
"That it has; and ever will, I trust. You have only to select an heir,when I am gone, and by making a will, with proper devises, the propertywill not escheat. Be careful to use the full terms of perpetuity."
"Every thing was so comfortable, brother, while you were in health,"said Sir Wycherly, fidgeting; "you were my natural heir--"
"Heir of entail," interrupted the judge.
"Well, well, _heir_, at all events; and _that_ was a prodigious comfortto a man like myself, who has a sort of religious scruples about makinga will. I have heard it whispered that you were actually married toMartha; in which case, Tom might drop into our shoes, so readily,without any more signing and sealing."
"A _filius nullius_," returned the other, too conscientious to lendhimself to a deception of that nature.
"Why, brother, Tom often seems to me to favour such an idea, himself."
"No wonder, Wycherly, for the idea would greatly favour him. Tom and hisbrothers are all _filii nullorum_, God forgive me for that same wrong."
"I wonder neither Charles nor Gregory thought of marrying before theylost their lives for their king and country," put in Sir Wycherly, in anupbraiding tone, as if he thought his penniless brethren had done him aninjury in neglecting to supply him with an heir, though he had been soforgetful himself of the same great duty. "I did think of bringing in abill for providing heirs for unmarried persons, without the trouble andresponsibility of making wills."
"That would have been a great improvement on the law of descents--I hopeyou wouldn't have overlooked the ancestors."
"Not I--everybody would have got his rights. They tell me poor Charlesnever spoke after he was shot; but I dare say, did we know the truth, heregretted sincerely that he never married."
"There, for once, Wycherly, I think you are likely to be wrong. A _femmesole_ without food, is rather a helpless sort of a person."
"Well, well, I wish he had married. What would it have been to me, hadhe left a dozen widows?"
"It might have raised some awkward questions as to dowry; and if eachleft a son, the title and estates would have been worse off than theyare at present, without widows or legitimate children."
"Any thing would be better than having no heir. I believe I'm the firstbaronet of Wychecombe who has been obliged to make a will!"
"Quite likely," returned the brother, drily; "I remember to have gotnothing from the last one, in that way. Charles and Gregory fared nobetter. Never mind, Wycherly, you behaved like a father to us all."
"I don't mind signing cheques, in the least; but wills have anirreligious appearance, in my eyes. There are a good many Wychecombes,in England; I wonder some of them are not of our family! They tell me ahundredth cousin is just as good an heir, as a first-born son."
"Failing nearer of kin. But we have no hundredth cousins of the _wholeblood_."
"There are the Wychecombes of Surrey, brother Thomas--?"
"Descended from a bastard of the second baronet, and out of the line ofdescent, altogether."
"But the Wychecombes of Hertfordshire, I have always heard were of ourfamily, and legitimate."
"True, as regards matrimony--rather too much of it, by the way. Theybranched off in 1487, long before the creation, and have nothing to dowith the entail; the first of their line coming from old Sir MichaelWychecombe, Kt. and Sheriff of Devonshire, by his second wife Margery;while we are derived from the same male ancestor, through Wycherly, theonly son by Joan, the first wife. Wycherly, and Michael, the son ofMichael and Margery, were of the half-blood, as respects each other, andcould not be heirs of blood. What was true of the ancestors is true ofthe descendants."
"But we came of the same ancestor, and the estate is far older than1487."
"Quite true, brother; nevertheless, the half-blood can't take; so saysthe perfection of human reason."
"I never could understand these niceties of the law," said Sir Wycherly,sighing; "but I suppose they are all right. There are so manyWychecombes scattered about England, that I should think some one amongthem all might be my heir!"
"Every man of them bears a bar in his arms, or is of the half-blood."
"You are quite sure, brother, that Tom is a _filius nullus_?" for thebaronet had forgotten most of the little Latin he ever knew, andtranslated this legal phrase into "no son."
"_Filius nullius_, Sir Wycherly, the son of nobody; your reading wouldliterally make Tom nobody; whereas, he is only the son of nobody."
"But, brother, he is your son, and as like you, as two hounds of thesame litter."
"I am _nullus_, in the eye of the law, as regards poor Tom; who, untilhe marries, and has children of his own, is altogether without legalkindred. Nor do I know that legitimacy would make Tom any bett
er; for heis presuming and confident enough for the heir apparent to the throne,as it is."
"Well, there's this young sailor, who has been so much at the stationlately, since he was left ashore for the cure of his wounds. 'Tis a mostgallant lad; and the First Lord has sent him a commission, as a rewardfor his good conduct, in cutting out the Frenchman. I look upon him as acredit to the name; and I make no question, he is, some way or other, ofour family."
"Does he claim to be so?" asked the judge, a little quickly, for hedistrusted men in general, and thought, from all he had heard, that someattempt might have been made to practise on his brother's simplicity. "Ithought you told me that he came from the American colonies?"
"So he does; he's a native of Virginia, as was his father before him."
"A convict, perhaps; or a servant, quite likely, who has found the nameof his former master, more to his liking than his own. Such things arecommon, they tell me, beyond seas."
"Yes, if he were anything but an American, I might wish he were myheir," returned Sir Wycherly, in a melancholy tone; "but it would beworse than to let the lands escheat, as you call it, to place anAmerican in possession of Wychecombe. The manors have always had Englishowners, down to the present moment, thank God!"
"Should they have any other, it will be your own fault, Wycherly. When Iam dead, and that will happen ere many weeks, the human being will notbe living, who can take that property, after your demise, in any othermanner than by escheat, or by devise. There will then be neither heir ofentail, nor heir at law; and you may make whom you please, master ofWychecombe, provided he be not an alien."
"Not an American, I suppose, brother; an American is an alien, ofcourse."
"Humph!--why, not in law, whatever he may be according to our Englishnotions. Harkee, brother Wycherly; I've never asked you, or wished youto leave the estate to Tom, or his younger brothers; for one, and all,are _filii nullorum_--as I term 'em, though my brother Record will haveit, it ought to be _filii nullius_, as well as _filius nullius_. Letthat be as it may; no bastard should lord it at Wychecombe; and ratherthan the king; should get the lands, to bestow on some favourite, Iwould give it to the half-blood."
"Can that be done without making a will, brother Thomas?"
"It cannot, Sir Wycherly; nor with a will, so long as an heir of entailcan be found."
"Is there no way of making Tom a _filius somebody_, so that _he_ cansucceed?"
"Not under our laws. By the civil law, such a thing might have beendone, and by the Scotch law; but not under the perfection of reason."
"I wish you knew this young Virginian! The lad bears both of my names,Wycherly Wychecombe."
"He is not a _filius Wycherly_--is he, baronet?"
"Fie upon thee, brother Thomas! Do you think I have less candour thanthyself, that I would not acknowledge my own flesh and blood. I neversaw the youngster, until within the last six months, when he was landedfrom the roadstead, and brought to Wychecombe, to be cured of hiswounds; nor ever heard of him before. When they told me his name wasWycherly Wychecombe, I could do no less than call and see him. The poorfellow lay at death's door for a fortnight; and it was while we hadlittle or no hope of saving him, that I got the few family anecdotesfrom him. Now, that would be good evidence in law, I believe, Thomas."
"For certain things, had the lad really died. Surviving, he must beheard on his _voire dire_, and under oath. But what was his tale?"
"A very short one. He told me his father was a Wycherly Wychecombe, andthat his grandfather had been a Virginia planter. This was all he seemedto know of his ancestry."
"And probably all there was of them. My Tom is not the only _filius nullius_that has been among us, and this grandfather, if he has not actuallystolen the name, has got it by these doubtful means. As for theWycherly, it should pass for nothing. Learning that there is a line ofbaronets of this name, every pretender to the family would be apt tocall a son Wycherly."
"The line will shortly be ended, brother," returned Sir Wycherly,sighing. "I wish you might be mistaken; and, after all, Tom shouldn'tprove to be that _filius_ you call him."
Mr. Baron Wychecombe, as much from _esprit de corps_ as from moralprinciple, was a man of strict integrity, in all things that related to_meum_ and _tuum_. He was particularly rigid in his notions concerningthe transmission of real estate, and the rights of primogeniture. Theworld had taken little interest in the private history of a lawyer, andhis sons having been born before his elevation to the bench, he passedwith the public for a widower, with a family of promising boys. Not onein a hundred of his acquaintances even, suspected the fact; and nothingwould have been easier for him, than to have imposed on his brother, byinducing him to make a will under some legal mystification or other, andto have caused Tom Wychecombe to succeed to the property in question, byan indisputable title. There would have been no great difficulty even,in his son's assuming and maintaining his right to the baronetcy,inasmuch as there would be no competitor, and the crown officers werenot particularly rigid in inquiring into the claims of those who assumeda title that brought with it no political privileges. Still, he was farfrom indulging in any such project. To him it appeared that theWychecombe estate ought to go with the principles that usually governedsuch matters; and, although he submitted to the dictum of the commonlaw, as regarded the provision which excluded the half-blood frominheriting, with the deference of an English common-law lawyer, he sawand felt, that, failing the direct line, Wychecombe ought to revert tothe descendants of Sir Michael by his second son, for the plain reasonthat they were just as much derived from the person who had acquired theestate, as his brother Wycherly and himself. Had there been descendantsof females, even, to interfere, no such opinion would have existed; but,as between an escheat, or a devise in favour of a _filius nillius_, orof the descendant of a _filius nullius_, the half-blood possessed everypossible advantage. In his legal eyes, legitimacy was everything,although he had not hesitated to be the means of bringing into the worldseven illegitimate children, that being the precise number Martha hadthe credit of having borne him, though three only survived. Afterreflecting a moment, therefore, he turned to the baronet, and addressedhim more seriously than he had yet done, in the present dialogue; firsttaking a draught of cordial to give him strength for the occasion.
"Listen to me, brother Wycherly," said the judge, with a gravity that atonce caught the attention of the other. "You know something of thefamily history, and I need do no more than allude to it. Our ancestorswere the knightly possessors of Wychecombe, centuries before King Jamesestablished the rank of baronet. When our great-grandfather, SirWycherly, accepted the patent of 1611, he scarcely did himself honour;for, by aspiring higher, he might have got a peerage. However, a baronethe became, and for the first time since Wychecombe was Wychecombe, theestate was entailed, to do credit to the new rank. Now, the first SirWycherly had three sons, and no daughter. Each of these sons succeeded;the two eldest as bachelors, and the youngest was our grandfather. SirThomas, the fourth baronet, left an only child, Wycherly, our father.Sir Wycherly, our father, had five sons, Wycherly his successor,yourself, and the sixth baronet; myself; James; Charles; and Gregory.James broke his neck at your side. The two last lost their lives in theking's service, unmarried; and neither you, nor I, have entered into theholy state of matrimony. I cannot survive a month, and the hopes ofperpetuating the direct line of the family, rests with yourself. Thisaccounts for all the descendants of Sir Wycherly, the first baronet; andit also settles the question of heirs of entail, of whom there are noneafter myself. To go back beyond the time of King James I.: Twice did theelder lines of the Wychecombes fail, between the reign of King RichardII. and King Henry VII., when Sir Michael succeeded. Now, in each ofthese cases, the law disposed of the succession; the youngest branchesof the family, in both instances, getting the estate. It follows thatagreeably to legal decisions had at the time, when the facts must havebeen known, that the Wychecombes were reduced to these younger lines.Sir Michael had two wives. From the first
_we_ are derived--from thelast, the Wychecombes of Hertfordshire--since known as baronets of thatcounty, by the style and title of Sir Reginald Wychecombe ofWychecombe-Regis, Herts."
"The present Sir Reginald can have no claim, being of the half-blood,"put in Sir Wycherly, with a brevity of manner that denoted feeling. "Thehalf-blood is as bad as a _nullius_, as you call Tom."
"Not quite. A person of the half-blood may be as legitimate as theking's majesty; whereas, a nullius is of _no_ blood. Now, suppose for amoment, Sir Wycherly, that you had been a son by a first wife, and I hadbeen a son by a second--would there have been no relationship betweenus?"
"What a question, Tom, to put to your own brother!"
"But I should not be your _own_ brother, my good sir; only your _half_brother; of the _half_, and not of the _whole_ blood."
"What of that--what of that?--your father would have been my father--wewould have had the same name--the same family history--the same family_feelings_--poh! poh!--we should have been both Wychecombes, exactly aswe are to-day."
"Quite true, and yet I could not have been your heir, nor you mine. Theestate would escheat to the king, Hanoverian or Scotchman, before itcame to me. Indeed, to _me_ it could never come."
"Thomas, you are trifling with my ignorance, and making matters worsethan they really are. Certainly, as long as you lived, you would be _my_heir!"
"Very true, as to the L20,000 in the funds, but not as to the baronetcyand Wychecombe. So far as the two last are concerned, I am heir ofblood, and of entail, of the body of Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, the firstbaronet, and the maker of the entail."
"Had there been no entail, and had I died a child, who would havesucceeded our father, supposing there had been two mothers?"
"I, as the next surviving son."
"There!--I knew it must be so!" exclaimed Sir Wycherly, in triumph; "andall this time you have been joking with me!"
"Not so fast, brother of mine--not so fast. I should be of the _whole_blood, as respected our father, and all the Wychecombes that have gonebefore him; but of the _half_-blood, as respected _you_. From our fatherI might have taken, as his heir-at-law: but from _you_, never, havingbeen of the _half_-blood."
"I would have made a will, in that case, Thomas, and left you everyfarthing," said Sir Wycherly, with feeling.
"That is just what I wish you to do with Sir Reginald Wychecombe. Youmust take him; a _filius nullius_, in the person of my son Tom; astranger; or let the property escheat; for, we are so peculiarly placedas not to have a known relative, by either the male or female lines; thematernal ancestors being just as barren of heirs as the paternal. Ourgood mother was the natural daughter of the third Earl of Prolific; ourgrandmother was the last of her race, so far as human ken can discover;our great-grandmother is said to have had semi-royal blood in her veins,without the aid of the church, and beyond that it would be hopeless toattempt tracing consanguinity on that side of the house. No, Wycherly;it is Sir Reginald who has the best right to the land; Tom, or one ofhis brothers, an utter stranger, or His Majesty, follow. Remember thatestates of L4000 a year, don't often escheat, now-a-days."
"If you'll draw up a will, brother, I'll leave it all to Tom," cried thebaronet, with sudden energy. "Nothing need be said about the _nullius_;and when I'm gone, he'll step quietly into my place."
Nature triumphed a moment in the bosom of the father; but habit, and thestern sense of right, soon overcame the feeling. Perhaps certain doubts,and a knowledge of his son's real character, contributed their sharetowards the reply.
"It ought not to be, Sir Wycherly," returned the judge, musing, "Tom hasno right to Wychecombe, and Sir Reginald has the best moral rightpossible, though the law cuts him off. Had Sir Michael made the entail,instead of our great-grandfather, he would have come in, as a matter ofcourse."
"I never liked Sir Reginald Wychecombe," said the baronet, stubbornly.
"What of that?--He will not trouble you while living, and when dead itwill be all the same. Come--come--I will draw the will myself, leavingblanks for the name; and when it is once done, you will sign it,cheerfully. It is the last legal act I shall ever perform, and it willbe a suitable one, death being constantly before me."
This ended the dialogue. The will was drawn according to promise; SirWycherly took it to his room to read, carefully inserted the name of TomWychecombe in all the blank spaces, brought it back, duly executed theinstrument in his brother's presence, and then gave the paper to hisnephew to preserve, with a strong injunction on him to keep the secret,until the instrument should have force by his own death. Mr. BaronWychecombe died in six weeks, and the baronet returned to his residence,a sincere mourner for the loss of an only brother. A more unfortunateselection of an heir could not have been made, as Tom Wychecombe was, inreality, the son of a barrister in the Temple; the fancied likeness tothe reputed father existing only in the imagination of his credulousuncle.