ms. Even at that distance, the words "RICHARD
BLUEWATER, REAR-ADMIRAL OF THE WHITE," might be read. But the
baronet had come to a sudden halt, in consequence of seeing a party of
three enter the chapel, in which he wished to be alone with his own
family. The party consisted of an old man, who walked with tottering
steps, and this so much the more from the circumstance that he leaned on
a domestic nearly as old as himself, though of a somewhat sturdier
frame, and of a tall imposing-looking person of middle age, who followed
the two with patient steps. Several attendants of the cathedral watched
this party from a distance with an air of curiosity and respect; but
they had been requested not to accompany it to the chapel.

"They must be some old brother-officers of my poor uncle's, visiting his
tomb!" whispered Lady Wychecombe. "The very venerable gentleman has
naval emblems about his attire."

"_Do_ you--_can_ you forget him, love? 'Tis Sir Gervaise Oakes, the
pride of England! yet how changed! It is now five-and-twenty years since
we last met; still I knew him at a glance. The servant is old Galleygo,
his steward; but the gentleman with him is a stranger. Let us advance;
_we_ cannot be intruders in such a place."

Sir Gervaise paid no attention to the entrance of the Wychecombes. It
was evident, by the vacant look of his countenance, that time and hard
service had impaired his faculties, though his body remained entire; an
unusual thing for one who had been so often engaged. Still there were
glimmerings of lively recollections, and even of strong sensibilities
about his eyes, as sudden fancies crossed his mind. Once a year, the
anniversary of his friend's interment, he visited that chapel; and he
had now been brought here as much from habit, as by his own desire. A
chair was provided for him, and he sat facing the tomb, with the large
letters before his eyes. He regarded neither, though he bowed
courteously to the salute of the strangers. His companion at first
seemed a little surprised, if not offended at the intrusion; but when
Wycherly mentioned that they were relatives of the deceased, he also
bowed complacently, and made way for the ladies.

"This it is as what you wants to see, Sir Jarvy," observed Galleygo,
jogging his master's shoulder by way of jogging his memory. "Them 'ere
cables and hanchors, and that 'ere mizzen-mast, with a rear-admiral's
flag a-flying, is rigged in this old church, in honour of our frie