however, must be left to the
imagination of the reader, as we have matters of greater moment to
record at this particular juncture.

From the time Sir Wycherly was laid on his bed, Mr. Rotherham had been
seated at the sick man's side, watching the course of his attack, and
ready to interpret any of the patient's feebly and indistinctly
expressed wishes. We say indistinctly, because the baronet's speech was
slightly affected with that species of paralysis which reduces the
faculty to the state that is vulgarly called thick-tongued. Although a
three-bottle man, Mr. Rotherham was far from being without his devout
feelings, on occasions, discharging all the clerical functions with as
much unction as the habits of the country, and the opinions of the day,
ordinarily exacted of divines. He had even volunteered to read the
prayers for the sick, as soon as he perceived that the patient's
recollection had returned; but this kind offer had been declined by Sir
Wycherly, under the clearer views of fitness, that the near approach of
death is apt to give, and which views left a certain consciousness that
the party assembled was not in the best possible condition for that
sacred office. Sir Wycherly revived so much, at last, as to look about
him with increasing consciousness; and, at length, his eyes passed
slowly over the room, scanning each person singly, and with marked
deliberation.

"I know you all--now," said the kind-hearted baronet, though always
speaking thick, and with a little difficulty; "am sorry to give--much
trouble. I have--little time to spare."

"I hope not, Sir Wycherly," put in the vicar, in a consolatory manner;
"you have had a sharp attack, but then there is a good constitution to
withstand it."

"My time--short--feel it here," rejoined the patient, passing his hand
over his forehead.

"Note that, Dutton," whispered Tom Wycherly. "My poor uncle intimates
himself that his mind is a little shaken. Under such circumstances, it
would be cruel to let him injure himself with business."

"It cannot be done _legally_, Mr. Thomas--I should think Admiral Oakes
would interfere to prevent it."

"Rotherham," continued the patient, "I will--settle with--world; then,
give--thoughts--to God. Have we--guests--the house?--Men of
family--character?"

"Certainly, Sir Wycherly; Admiral Oakes is in the room, even; and
Admiral Bluewater, is, I believe, still in the house. You invited both
to pass the night with you."

"I