The Two Admirals (13 page)

"Come—come, Bluewater," interrupted Sir Gervaise, with a gravity that
almost amounted to reproof; "I cannot permit such innuendoes before one
so young and unpractised. The young lady might really suppose that His
Majesty's fleet was entrusted to men unworthy to enjoy his confidence,
by the cool way in which you carry on the joke. I propose, now, Sir
Wycherly, that we eat our dinner in peace, and say no more about this
mad expedition, until the cloth is drawn, at least. It's a long road to
Scotland, and there is little danger that this adventurer will find his
way into Devonshire before the nuts are placed before us."

"It would be nuts to us, if he did, Sir Gervaise," put in Tom Wycherly,
laughing heartily at his own wit. "My uncle would enjoy nothing more
than to see the spurious sovereign on his own estate, here, and in the
hands of his own tenants. I think, sir, that Wychecombe and one or two
of the adjoining manors, would dispose of him."

"That might depend on circumstances," the admiral answered, a little
drily. "These Scots have such a thing as a claymore, and are desperate
fellows, they tell me, at a charge. The very fact of arming a soldier
with a short sword, shows a most bloody-minded disposition."

"You forget, Sir Gervaise, that we have our Cornish hug, here in the
west of England; and I will put our fellows against any Scotch regiment
that ever charged an enemy."

Tom laughed again at his own allusion to a proverbial mode of grappling,
familiar to the adjoining county.

"This is all very well, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, so long as Devonshire is
in the west of England, and Scotland lies north of the Tweed. Sir
Wycherly might as well leave the matter in the hands of the Duke and his
regulars, if it were only in the way of letting every man follow his own
trade."

"It strikes me as so singularly insolent in a base-born boy like this,
pretending to the English crown, that I can barely speak of him with
patience! We all know that his father was a changeling, and the son of a
changeling can have no more right than the father himself. I do not
remember what the law terms such pretenders; but I dare say it is
something sufficiently odious."

"
Filius nullius
, Thomas," said Sir Wycherly, with a little eagerness
to show his learning. "That's the very phrase. I have it from the first
authority; my late brother, Baron Wychecombe, giving it to me with his
own mouth, on an occasion that called for an understanding of such
matters. The judge was a most accurate lawyer, particularly in all that
related to names; and I'll engage, if he were living at this moment, he
would tell you the legal appellation of a changeling ought to be
filius
nullius
."

In spite of his native impudence, and an innate determination to make
his way in the world, without much regard to truth, Tom Wychecombe felt
his cheek burn so much, at this innocent allusion of his reputed uncle,
that he was actually obliged to turn away his face, in order to conceal
his confusion. Had any moral delinquency of his own been implicated in
the remark, he might have found means to steel himself against its
consequences; but, as is only too often the case, he was far more
ashamed of a misfortune over which he had no possible control, than he
would have been of a crime for which he was strictly responsible in
morals. Sir Gervaise smiled at Sir Wycherly's knowledge of law terms,
not to say of Latin; and turning good-humouredly to his friend the
rear-admiral, anxious to re-establish friendly relations with him, he
said with well-concealed irony—

"Sir Wycherly must be right, Bluewater. A changeling is
nobody
—that
is to say, he is not the
body
he pretends to be, which is
substantially being nobody—and the son of nobody, is clearly a
filius
nullius
. And now having settled what may be called the law of the case,
I demand a truce, until we get our nuts—for as to Mr. Thomas
Wychecombe's having
his
nut to crack, at least to-day, I take it there
are too many loyal subjects in the north."

When men know each other as well as was the case with our two admirals,
there are a thousand secret means of annoyance, as well as of
establishing amity. Admiral Bluewater was well aware that Sir Gervaise
was greatly superior to the vulgar whig notion of the day, which
believed in the fabricated tale of the Pretender's spurious birth; and
the secret and ironical allusion he had made to his impression on that
subject, acted as oil to his own chafed spirit, disposing him to
moderation. This had been the intention of the other; and the smiles
they exchanged, sufficiently proved that their usual mental intercourse
was temporarily restored at least.

Deference to his guests made Sir Wycherly consent to change the subject,
though he was a little mystified with the obvious reluctance of the two
admirals to speak of an enterprise that ought to be uppermost, according
to his notion of the matter, in every Englishman's mind. Tom had
received a rebuke that kept him silent during the rest of the dinner;
while the others were content to eat and drink, as if nothing had
happened.

It is seldom that a party takes its seat at table without some secret
manoeuvring, as to the neighbourhood, when the claims of rank and
character do not interfere with personal wishes. Sir Wycherly had placed
Sir Gervaise on his right and Mrs. Dutton on his left. But Admiral
Bluewater had escaped from his control, and taken his seat next to
Mildred, who had been placed by Tom Wychecombe close to himself, at the
foot of the table. Wycherly occupied the seat opposite, and this
compelled Dutton, and Mr. Rotherham, the vicar, to fill the other two
chairs. The good baronet had made a wry face, at seeing a rear-admiral
so unworthily bestowed; but Sir Gervaise assuring him that his friend
was never so happy as when in the service of beauty, he was fain to
submit to the arrangement.

That Admiral Bluewater was struck with Mildred's beauty, and pleased
with her natural and feminine manner, one altogether superior to what
might have been expected from her station in life, was very apparent to
all at table; though it was quite impossible to mistake his parental and
frank air for any other admiration than that which was suitable to the
difference in years, and in unison with their respective conditions and
experience. Mrs. Dutton, so far from taking the alarm at the
rear-admiral's attentions, felt gratification in observing them; and
perhaps she experienced a secret pride in the consciousness of their
being so well merited. It has been said, already, that she was, herself,
the daughter of a land-steward of a nobleman, in an adjoining county;
but it may be well to add, here, that she had been so great a favourite
with the daughters of her father's employer, as to have been admitted,
in a measure, to their society; and to have enjoyed some of the
advantages of their education. Lady Wilmeter, the mother of the young
ladies, to whom she was admitted as a sort of humble companion, had
formed the opinion it might be an advantage to the girl to educate her
for a governess; little conceiving, in her own situation, that she was
preparing a course of life for Martha Ray, for such was Mrs. Dutton's
maiden name, that was perhaps the least enviable of all the careers that
a virtuous and intelligent female can run. This was, as education and
governesses were appreciated a century ago; the world, with all its
faults and sophisms, having unquestionably made a vast stride towards
real civilization, and moral truths, in a thousand important interests,
since that time. Nevertheless, the education was received, together with
a good many tastes, and sentiments, and opinions, which it may well be
questioned, whether they contributed most to the happiness or
unhappiness of the pupil, in her future life. Frank Dutton, then a
handsome, though far from polished young sea-lieutenant, interfered with
the arrangement, by making Martha Ray his wife, when she was
two-and-twenty. This match was suitable, in all respects, with the
important exception of the educations and characters of the parties.
Still, as a woman may well be more refined, and in some things, even
more intelligent than her husband; and as sailors, in the commencement
of the eighteenth century, formed a class of society much more distinct
than they do to-day, there would have been nothing absolutely
incompatible with the future well-being of the young couple, had each
pursued his, or her own career, in a manner suitable to their respective
duties. Young Dutton took away his bride, with the two thousand pounds
she had received from her father, and for a long time he was seen no
more in his native county. After an absence of some twenty years,
however, he returned, broken in constitution, and degraded in rank. Mrs.
Dutton brought with her one child, the beautiful girl introduced to the
reader, and to whom she was studiously imparting all she had herself
acquired in the adventitious manner mentioned. Such were the means, by
which Mildred, like her mother, had been educated above her condition in
life; and it had been remarked that, though Mrs. Dutton had probably no
cause to felicitate herself on the possession of manners and sentiments
that met with so little sympathy, or appreciation, in her actual
situation, she assiduously cultivated the same manners and opinions in
her daughter; frequently manifesting a sort of sickly fastidiousness on
the subject of Mildred's deportment and tastes. It is probable the girl
owed her improvement in both, however, more to the circumstance of her
being left so much alone with her mother, than to any positive lessons
she received; the influence of example, for years, producing its usual
effects.

No one in Wychecombe positively knew the history of Dutton's
professional degradation. He had never risen higher than to be a
lieutenant; and from this station he had fallen by the sentence of a
court-martial. His restoration to the service, in the humbler and almost
hopeless rank of a master, was believed to have been brought about by
Mrs. Dutton's influence with the present Lord Wilmeter, who was the
brother of her youthful companions. That the husband had wasted his
means, was as certain as that his habits, on the score of temperance at
least, were bad, and that his wife, if not positively broken-hearted,
was an unhappy woman; one to be pitied, and admired. Sir Wycherly was
little addicted to analysis, but he could not fail to discover the
superiority of the wife and daughter, over the husband and father; and
it is due to his young namesake to add, that his obvious admiration of
Mildred was quite as much owing to her mind, deportment, character, and
tastes, as to her exceeding personal charms.

This little digression may perhaps, in the reader's eyes, excuse the
interest Admiral Bluewater took in our heroine. With the indulgence of
years and station, and the tact of a man of the world, he succeeded in
drawing Mildred out, without alarming her timidity; and he was surprised
at discovering the delicacy of her sentiments, and the accuracy of her
knowledge. He was too conversant with society, and had too much good
taste, to make any deliberate parade of opinions; but in the quiet
manner that is so easy to those who are accustomed to deal with truths
and tastes as familiar things, he succeeded in inducing her to answer
his own remarks, to sympathize with his feelings, to laugh when he
laughed, and to assume a look of disapproval, when he felt that
disapprobation was just. To all this Wycherly was a delighted witness,
and in some respects he participated in the conversation; for there was
evidently no wish on the part of the rear-admiral to monopolize his
beautiful companion to himself. Perhaps the position of the young man,
directly opposite to her, aided in inducing Mildred to bestow so many
grateful looks and sweet smiles, on the older officer; for she could not
glance across the table, without meeting the admiring gaze of Wycherly,
fastened on her own blushing face.

It is certain, if our heroine did not, during this repast, make a
conquest of Admiral Bluewater, in the ordinary meaning of the term, that
she made him a friend. Sir Gervaise, even, was struck with the singular
and devoted manner in which his old messmate gave all his attention to
the beautiful girl at his side; and, once or twice, he caught himself
conjecturing whether it were possible, that one as practised, as
sensible, and as much accustomed to the beauties of the court, as
Bluewater, had actually been caught, by the pretty face of a country
girl, when so well turned of fifty, himself! Then discarding the notion
as preposterous, he gave his attention to the discourse of Sir Wycherly;
a dissertation on rabbits, and rabbit-warrens. In this manner the dinner
passed away.

Mrs. Dutton asked her host's permission to retire, with her daughter, at
the earliest moment permitted by propriety. In quitting the room she
cast an anxious glance at the face of her husband, which was already
becoming flushed with his frequent applications of port; and spite of an
effort to look smiling and cheerful, her lips quivered, and by the time
she and Mildred reached the drawing-room, tears were fast falling down
her cheeks. No explanation was asked, or needed, by the daughter, who
threw herself into her mother's arms, and for several minutes they wept
together, in silence. Never had Mrs. Dutton spoken, even to Mildred, of
the besetting and degrading vice of her husband; but it had been
impossible to conceal its painful consequences from the world; much less
from one who lived in the bosom of her family. On that failing which the
wife treated so tenderly, the daughter of course could not touch; but
the silent communion of tears had got to be so sweet to both, that,
within the last year, it was of very frequent occurrence.

"Really, Mildred," said the mother, at length, after having succeeded in
suppressing her emotion, and in drying her eyes, while she smiled fondly
in the face of the lovely and affectionate girl; "this Admiral Bluewater
is getting to be so particular, I hardly know how to treat the matter."