"Did he, indeed?—Was the epithet, as you well term it, filius nullius?"
"I rather think it was nullus—though I do believe the word filius was muttered, once or twice, also."
"Yes, sir, this has been the case; and I am not sorry Sir Wycherly is aware of the fact, as I hear that the young man affects to consider himself in a different point of view. A filius nullius is the legal term for a bastard—the 'son of nobody,' as you will at once understand. I am fully aware that such is the unfortunate predicament of Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, whose father, I possess complete evidence to show, was never married to his mother."
"And yet, Sir Reginald, the impudent rascal carries in his pocket even, a certificate, signed by some parish priest in London, to prove the contrary."
The civil baronet seemed surprised at this assertion of his military brother; but Sir Gervaise explaining what had passed between himself and the young man, he could no longer entertain any doubt of the fact.
"Since you have seen the document," resumed Sir Reginald, "it must, indeed, be so; and this misguided boy is prepared to take any desperate step in order to obtain the title and the estate. All that he has said about a will must be fabulous, as no man in his senses would risk his neck to obtain so hollow a distinction as a baronetcy—we are equally members of the class, and may speak frankly, Sir Gervaise—and the will would secure the estate, if there were one. I cannot think, therefore, that there is a will at all."
"If this will were not altogether to the fellow's liking, would not the marriage, beside the hollow honour of which you have spoken, put the whole of the landed property in his possession, under the entail?"
"It would, indeed; and I thank you for the suggestion. If, however, Sir Wycherly is desirous, now, of making a new will, and has strength and mind sufficient to execute his purpose, the old one need give us no concern. This is a most delicate affair for one in my situation to engage in, sir; and I greatly rejoice that I find such honourable and distinguished witnesses, in the house, to clear my reputation, should any thing occur to require such exculpation. On the one side, Sir Gervaise, there is the danger of an ancient estate's falling into the hands of the crown, and this, too, while one of no stain of blood, derived from the same honourable ancestors as the last possessor, is in existence; or, on the other, of its becoming the prey of one of base blood, and of but very doubtful character. The circumstance that Sir Wycherly desired my presence, is a great deal; and I trust to you, and to those with you, to vindicate the fairness of my course. If it's your pleasure, sir, we will now go to the sick chamber."
"With all my heart. I think, however, Sir Reginald," said the vice-admiral, as he approached the door; "that even in the event of an escheat, you would find these Brunswick princes sufficiently liberal to restore the property. I could not answer for those wandering Scotchmen; who have so many breechless nobles to enrich; but, I think, with the Hanoverians, you would be safe."
"The last have certainly one recommendation the most," returned the other, smiling courteously, but in a way so equivocal that even Sir Gervaise was momentarily struck by it; "they have fed so well, now, at the crib, that they may not have the same voracity, as those who have been long fasting. It would be, however, more pleasant to take these lands from a Wychecombe—a Wychecombe to a Wychecombe—than to receive them anew from even the Plantagenet who made the first grant."