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Updated: June 5, 2025
"And this Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe," he said; "he who has so much distinguished himself of late; your uncle's namesake; is it true that he is not allied to your family?" "Not in the least, Sir Gervaise," answered Tom, with one of his sinister smiles. "He is only a Virginian, you know, sir, and cannot well belong to us.
Wychecombe," he cried, eagerly, pointing in the direction of the sail; "yonder is some of the king's canvass coming into our roadstead, or I am no judge of the set of a man-of-war's royal. It is a large bit of cloth, too, Mr. Lieutenant, for a sail so lofty!"
"I suppose Wychecombe is about as good as Portsmouth, or Plymouth; and I'm sure these green fields are handsomer than the streets of any dirty town I ever entered." "Ay, green fields are, indeed, pleasant to the eyes of us sailors, who see nothing but water, for months at a time. Turn to the right, if you please, my lord; I wish to call at yonder signal-station, on my way to the Hall."
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!"
The two gentlemen assenting, the vice-admiral was about to lead the way below, when suddenly arresting his footsteps, on the poop-ladder, he said "Did you not tell me, Wychecombe, that the Druid had sprung her foremast?" "Badly, I believe, Sir Gervaise, in the hounds. Captain Blewet carried on his ship fearfully, all night." "Ay, he's a fearful fellow with spars, that Tom Blewet.
Wychecombe Lieutenant Wychecombe, I mean the young officer from Virginia he who was so desperately wounded in whose recovery we all took so deep an interest " "Well what of him, child? you surely do not mean to put him on a level with Mr. Rotherham, in the way of religious consolation and, as for anything else, there is no consanguinity between the Wychecombes of Virginia and my family.
Were I the baronet, I would break the entail, rather than the acres should go to that sinister-looking nephew, and bestow them on the namesake. From Virginia, and not even a relative, at all?" "That is what Mr. Thomas Wychecombe says; and even Sir Wycherly confirms it. I have never heard Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe speak on the subject, himself." "A weakness of poor human nature!
Atwood tells me the admiral is a little uneasy about his despatches. I tell him Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe, though I have not the honour of ranking him among my relatives, and he is only a Virginian by birth, is a young man to be relied on; and that the despatches are safe, let what may detain the courier."
All these little distinctions gleamed across the mind of Tom Wychecombe; but that was not the moment to pursue the investigation.
As he concluded Sir Gervaise rang his bell, and desired the presence of Sir Wycherly Wychecombe. "I could have wished to remain and see this battle for the succession fairly fought," he said; "but a battle of a different sort calls us in another quarter. Show him in," he added, as his man intimated that the young baronet was in waiting.
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