igned by the
rector of a parish church in Westminster, and bore a date sufficiently
old to establish the legitimacy of the person who held it. This
extraordinary precaution produced the very natural effect of increasing
the distrust of the vice-admiral, and, in a slight degree, of giving it
a direction.

"You go well armed, sir," observed Sir Gervaise, drily. "Is it your
intention, when you succeed, to carry the patent of the baronetcy, and
the title-deeds, in your pocket?"

"Ah! I perceive my having this document strikes you as odd, Sir
Gervaise, but it can be easily explained. There was a wide difference in
rank between my parents, and some ill-disposed persons have presumed so
far to reflect on the character of my mother, as to assert she was not
married at all."

"In which case, sir, you would do well to cut off half-a-dozen of their
ears."

"The law is not to be appeased in that way, Sir Gervaise. My dear parent
used to inculcate on me the necessity of doing every thing according to
law; and I endeavour to remember his precepts. He avowed his marriage on
his death-bed, made all due atonement to my respected and injured
mother, and informed me in whose hands I should find this very
certificate; I only obtained it this morning, which fact will account
for its being in my pocket, at this melancholy and unexpected crisis, in
my beloved uncle's constitution."

The latter part of Tom's declaration was true enough; for, after having
made all the necessary inquiries, and obtained the hand-writing of a
clergyman who was long since dead, he had actually forged the
certificate that day, on a piece of soiled paper, that bore the
water-mark of 1720. His language, however, contributed to alienate the
confidence of his listener; Sir Gervaise being a man who was so much
accustomed to directness and fair-dealing, himself, as to feel disgust
at any thing that had the semblance of cant or hypocrisy. Nevertheless,
he had his own motives for pursuing the subject; the presence of neither
at the bed-side of the sufferer, being just then necessary.

"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. I have heard my uncle say, often, that the young gentleman must