The Two Admirals (34 page)

"Sir, I thank you," he answered, with formal courtesy; "no affinity that
can be properly and legally established, will ever be disavowed by me.
Under present circumstances, however, summoned as I have been to the
side of his death-bed, by the late Sir Wycherly, himself, and named by
him, as one might say, with his dying breath, as his executor, I feel it
a duty to inquire into the rights of all parties, and, if possible, to
ascertain who is the successor, and consequently who has the best claim
to command here."

"You surely do not attach any validity, Sir Reginald, to the pretended
will that was so singularly drawn up in my dear uncle's presence, an
hour before he died! Had that most extraordinary instrument been duly
signed and sealed, I cannot think that the Doctor's Commons would
sustain it; but
unsigned
and
unsealed
, it is no better than so much
waste paper."

"As respects the real estate, sir, though so great a loser by the delay
of five minutes, I am willing to admit that you are right. With regard
to the personals, a question in equity—one of clearly-expressed
intention—might possibly arise; though even of that I am by no means
certain."

"No, sir; no—" cried Tom, a glow of triumph colouring his cheek, in
spite of every effort to appear calm; "no English court would ever
disturb the natural succession to the personals! I am the last man to
wish to disturb some of these legacies—particularly that to Mr.
Rotherham, and those to the poor, faithful domestics,"—Tom saw the
prudence of conciliating allies, at such a critical moment, and his
declaration had an instant and strong effect, as was evident by the
countenances of many of the listeners;—"and I may say, that to Miss
Mildred Dutton; all of which will be duly paid, precisely as if my
beloved uncle had been in his right mind, and had actually made the
bequests; for this mixture of reason and justice, with wild and
extraordinary conceits, is by no means uncommon among men of great age,
and in their last moments. However, Sir Reginald, I beg you will
proceed, and act as in your judgment the extraordinary circumstances of
what may be called a very peculiar case, require."

"I conceive it to be our duty, sir, to search for a will. If Sir
Wycherly has actually died intestate, it will be time enough to inquire
into the question of the succession at common law. I have here the keys
of his private secretary; and Mr. Furlong, the land-steward, who has
just arrived, and whom you see in the room, tells me Sir Wycherly was
accustomed to keep all his valuable papers in this piece of furniture. I
shall now proceed to open it."

"Do so, Sir Reginald; no one can have a stronger desire than myself to
ascertain my beloved uncle's pleasure. Those to whom he
seemed
to wish
to give, even, shall not be losers for the want of his name."

Tom was greatly raised in the opinions of half in the room, by this
artful declaration, which was effectually securing just so many friends,
in the event of any occurrence that might render such support necessary.
In the mean time, Sir Reginald, assisted by the steward, opened the
secretary, and found the deposite of papers. The leases were all in
order; the title-deeds were properly arranged; the books and accounts
appeared to be exactly kept: ordinary bills and receipts were filed with
method; two or three bags of guineas proved that ready cash was not
wanting; and, in short, every thing showed that the deceased had left
his affairs in perfect order, and in a very intelligible condition.
Paper after paper, however, was opened, and nothing like a will, rough
draft or copied, was to be found. Disappointment was strongly painted on
the faces of all the gentlemen present; for, they had ignorantly imbibed
the opinion, that the production of a will would, in some unknown
manner, defeat the hopes of the
soi-disant
Sir Thomas Wychecombe. Nor
was Tom, himself, altogether without concern; for, since the recent
change in his uncle's feelings towards himself, he had a secret
apprehension that some paper might be found, to defeat all his hopes.
Triumph, however, gradually assumed the place of fear, in the expression
of his countenance; and when Mr. Furlong, a perfectly honest man,
declared that, from the late baronet's habits, as well as from the
result of this search, he did not believe that any such instrument
existed, his feelings overflowed in language.

"Not so fast, Master Furlong—not so fast," he cried; "here is something
that possibly even your legal acumen may be willing to term a will. You
perceive, gentlemen, I have it in my possession on good authority, as it
is addressed to me by name, and that, too, in Sir Wycherly's own
hand-writing; the envelope is sealed with his private seal. You will
pronounce this to be my dear uncle's hand. Furlong,"—showing the
superscription of the letter—"and this to be his seal?"

"Both are genuine, gentlemen," returned the steward, with a sigh. "Thus
far, Mr. Thomas is in the right."

"
Mr.
Thomas, sirrah!—and why not
Sir
Thomas? Are baronets addressed
as other men, in England? But, no matter! There is a time for all
things. Sir Gervaise Oakes, as you are perfectly indifferent in this
affair, I ask of you the favour to break the seal, and to inquire into
the contents of the paper?"

The vice-admiral was not slow in complying; for, by this time, he began
to feel an intense interest in the result. The reader will readily
understand that Tom had handed to Sir Gervaise the will drawn up by his
father, and which, after inserting his reputed nephew's name, Sir
Wycherly had duly executed, and delivered to the person most interested.
The envelope, address, and outer seal, Tom had obtained the very day the
will was signed, after assuring himself of the contents of the latter,
by six or eight careful perusals. The vice-admiral read the instrument
from beginning to end, before he put it into the hands of Sir Reginald
to examine. The latter fully expected to meet with a clumsy forgery; but
the instant his eyes fell on the phraseology, he perceived that the will
had been drawn by one expert in the law. A second look satisfied him
that the hand was that of Mr. Baron Wychecombe. It has already been
said, that in this instrument, Sir Wycherly bequeathed all he had on
earth, to "his nephew, Thomas Wychecombe, son, &c., &c.," making his
heir, also, his executor.

"This will appears to me to have been drawn up by a very skilful lawyer;
the late Baron Wychecombe," observed the baronet.

"It was, Sir Reginald," answered Tom, endeavouring to appear
unconcerned. "He did it to oblige my respected uncle, leaving blanks for
the name of the devisee, not liking to make a will so very decidedly in
favour of his own son. The writing in the blanks is by Sir Wycherly
himself, leaving no doubts of
his
intentions."

"I do not see but you may claim to be the heir of Wychecombe, sir, as
well as of the personals; though your claims to the baronetcy shall
certainly be contested and defeated."

"And why defeated?" demanded Wycherly, stepping forward for the first
time, and speaking with a curiosity he found it difficult to control.
"Is not Mr. Thomas—
Sir
Thomas, I ought rather to say,—the eldest son
of the late Sir Wycherly's next brother; and, as a matter of course,
heir to the title, as well as to the estate?"

"Not he, as I can answer from a careful examination of proofs. Mr. Baron
Wychecombe was never married, and thus
could have
no heir at law."

"Is this possible!—How have we all been deceived then, in America!"

"Why do you say this, young gentleman? Can
you
have any legal claims
here?"

"I am Wycherly, the
only
son of Wycherly, who was the eldest son of
Gregory, the younger brother of the late baronet; and if what you say be
true, the next in succession to the baronetcy, at least."

"This is—" Tom's words stuck in his throat; for the quiet, stern eye of
the young sailor met his look and warned him to be prudent.—"This is a
mistake
," he resumed. "My uncle Gregory was lost at sea, and died a
bachelor. He can have left no lawful issue."

"I must say, young gentleman," added Sir Reginald, gravely, "that such
has always been the history of his fate. I have had too near an interest
in this family, to neglect its annals."

"I know, sir, that such has been the opinion here for more than half a
century; but it was founded in error. The facts are simply these. My
grandfather, a warm-hearted but impetuous young man, struck an older
lieutenant, when ashore and on duty, in one of the West India Islands.
The penalty was death; but, neither the party injured nor the commander
of the vessel, wished to push matters to extremity, and the offender was
advised to absent himself from the ship, at the moment of sailing. The
injured party was induced to take this course, as in a previous quarrel,
my grandfather had received his fire, without returning it; frankly
admitting his fault. The ship did sail without Mr. Gregory Wychecombe,
and was lost, every soul on board perishing. My grandfather passed into
Virginia, where he remained a twelvemonth, suppressing his story, lest
its narration might lead to military punishment. Love next sealed his
future fate. He married a woman of fortune, and though his history was
well known in his own retired circle, it never spread beyond it. No one
supposed him near the succession, and there was no motive for stating
the fact, on account of his interests. Once he wrote to Sir Wycherly,
but he suppressed the letter, as likely to give more pain than pleasure.
That letter I now have, and in his own hand-writing. I have also his
commission, and all the other proofs of identity that such a person
would be apt to possess. They are as complete as any court in
Christendom would be likely to require, for he never felt a necessity
for changing his name. He has been dead but two years, and previously to
dying he saw that every document necessary to establish my claim, should
a moment for enforcing it ever arrive, was put in such a legal form as
to admit of no cavilling. He outlived my own father, but none of us
thought there was any motive for presenting ourselves, as all believed
that the sons of Baron Wychecombe were legitimate. I can only say, sir,
that I have complete legal evidence that I am heir at law of Gregory,
the younger brother of the late Sir Wycherly Wychecombe. Whether the
fact will give me any rights here, you best can say."

"It will make you heir of entail to this estate, master of this house,
and of most of what it contains, and the present baronet. You have only
to prove what you say, to defeat every provision of this will, with the
exception of that which refers to the personal estate."

"Bravo!" cried Sir Gervaise, fairly rubbing his hands with delight.
"Bravo, Dick; if we were aboard the Plantagenet, by the Lord, I'd turn
the hands up, and have three cheers. So then, my brave young seaman, you
turn out to be Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, after all!"

"Yes, that's the way we always does, on board ship," observed Galleygo,
to the group of domestics; "whenever any thing of a hallooing character
turns up. Sometimes we makes a signal to Admiral Blue and the rest on
'em, to 'stand by to cheer,' and all of us sets to, to cheer as if our
stomachs was lull of hurrahs, and we wanted to get rid on 'em. If Sir
Jarvy would just pass the word now, you'd have a taste of that 'ere
custom, that would do your ears good for a twelvemonth. It's a cheering
matter when the one of the trade falls heir to an estate."

"And would this be a proper mode of settling a question of a right of
property, Sir Gervaise Oakes?" asked Tom, with more of right and reason
than he commonly had of his side; "and that, too, with my uncle lying
dead beneath this roof?"

"I acknowledge the justice of the reproof, young sir, and will say no
more in the matter—at least, nothing as indiscreet as my last speech.
Sir Reginald, you have the affair in hand, and I recommend it to your
serious attention."

"Fear nothing, Sir Gervaise," answered he of Hertfordshire. "Justice
shall be done in the premises, if justice rule in England. Your story,
young gentleman, is probable, and naturally told, and I see a family
likeness between you and the Wychecombes, generally; a likeness that is
certainly not to be traced in the person of the other claimant. Did the
point depend on the legitimacy of Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, it might be
easily determined, as I have his own mother's declaration to the fact of
his illegitimacy, as well as of one other material circumstance that may
possibly unsettle even the late Baron Wychecombe's will. But this
testamentary devise of Sir Wycherly appears to be perfect, and nothing
but the entail can defeat it. You speak of your proofs; where are they?
It is all-important to know which party is entitled to possession."

"Here they are, sir," answered Wycherly, removing a belt from his body,
and producing his papers; "not in the originals, certainly; for most of
them
are matters of official record, in Virginia; but in, what the
lawyers call 'exemplified copies,' and which I am told are in a fit
state to be read as evidence in any court in England, that can take
cognizance of the matter."

Sir Reginald took the papers, and began to read them, one by one, and
with deep attention. The evidence of the identity of the grandfather was
full, and of the clearest nature. He had been recognised as an old
schoolfellow, by one of the governors of the colony, and it was at this
gentleman's suggestion that he had taken so much pains to perpetuate the
evidence of his identity. Both the marriages, one with Jane Beverly, and
the other with Rebecca Randolph, were fully substantiated, as were the
two births. The personal identity of the young man, and this too as the
only son of Wycherly, the
eldest
son of Gregory, was well certified
to, and in a way that could leave no doubt as to the person meant. In a
word, the proofs were such as a careful and experienced lawyer would
have prepared, in a case that admitted of no doubt, and which was liable
to be contested in a court of law. Sir Reginald was quite half an hour
in looking over the papers; and during this time, every eye in the room
was on him, watching the expression of his countenance with the utmost
solicitude. At length, he finished his task, when he again turned to
Wycherly.