"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."
"I never heard the saying. If ever used, it must be some silly play on sounds, and mean a numskull—or, perhaps, a fling at a fellow's position, by saying he is a 'nobody.' Who the deuce has been calling another a nullus, in the presence of the commander-in-chief of the southern squadron?"
"Sir Wycherly Wychecombe—our unfortunate host, here: the poor man who is on his death-bed, on this very floor."
Again Bluewater raised his head, and once more his eye sought the face of his friend. Sir Gervaise had now stopped short, with his hands crossed behind his back, looking intently at the other, in expectation of the answer.
"I thought it might be some difficulty from the fleet—some silly fellow complaining of another still more silly for using such a word. Sir Wycherly!—the poor man's mind must have failed him."
"I rather think not; if it has, there is 'method in his madness,' for he persevered most surprisingly, in the use of the term. His nephew, Tom Wychecombe, the presumptive heir, he insists on it, is a nullus; while this Sir Reginald, who is expected to arrive every instant, he says is only half—or half-blood, as it has since been explained to us."
"I am afraid this nephew will prove to be any thing but nullus, when he succeeds to the estate and title," answered Bluewater, gravely. "A more sinister-looking scoundrel, I never laid eyes on."
"That is just my way of thinking; and not in the least like the family."
"This matter of likenesses is not easily explained, Oakes. We see parents and children without any visible resemblance to each other; and then we find startling likenesses between utter strangers."