"It cannot, Sir Wycherly; nor with a will, so long as an heir of entail can be found."
"Is there no way of making Tom a filius somebody, so that he can succeed?"
"Not under our laws. By the civil law, such a thing might have been done, 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 than thyself, that I would not acknowledge my own flesh and blood. I never saw the youngster, until within the last six months, when he was landed from the roadstead, and brought to Wychecombe, to be cured of his wounds; nor ever heard of him before. When they told me his name was Wycherly Wychecombe, I could do no less than call and see him. The poor fellow lay at death's door for a fortnight; and it was while we had little or no hope of saving him, that I got the few family anecdotes from him. Now, that would be good evidence in law, I believe, Thomas."
"For certain things, had the lad really died. Surviving, he must be heard 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, and that his grandfather had been a Virginia planter. This was all he seemed to 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 actually stolen the name, has got it by these doubtful means. As for the Wycherly, it should pass for nothing. Learning that there is a line of baronets of this name, every pretender to the family would be apt to call 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't prove to be that filius you call him."