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"Wait," said the lawyer. "Tell me, Jacobs, is there anything in this world you care for outside of yourself and your ambition to climb to fortune over the necks of others? I'm curious to know." The gate was thrust open and there entered Rear-Admiral Sir William Lawrence, a round-faced, bullet-headed seaman of the old type. He was dressed in a bottle-green coat, metal buttons, red waistcoat, knee breeches and stockings, shoes and large buckles; and being totally bald he wore a wig, perched at the back of which was a little round hat. "No, my dear.".

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It was not very long before the eleven sail of the line with their attendant frigates were swelling large, bristling, and close to the Aurora, at whose signal halliards stood two sailors who dipped to such battle-ships as the schooner passed receiving the acknowledgment of small ensigns gaff-ended, and then hauled down to be hoisted no more. The picture was full of a grandeur that borrowed majesty from the sense of the power and the empire[Pg 397] the ships symbolised. They were lordly in slow motion; they bowed to the swell as though in lofty homage to their mistress the sea; they were terrible in triple rows of cannon and by virtue of the traditional magnificent spirit, silent and concealed behind their lofty and invincible defences. It was the breakfast hour, but the people aboard the Aurora were very willing to wait to break their fast. Not a man but was fascinated by the sight and presence of that tall, majestic ship out there, with the little flag at the fore. For Nelson—the Nelson of the North, of Aboukir Bay, of Teneriffe, of St Vincent, the Nelson of a hundred wounds, the first of all sea chieftains in the history of the world, Nelson, the truest sailor, the kindest shipmate, the man of the purest and loftiest spirit of chivalry and patriotism that ever stepped the planks of a ship's decks—this great, this sublime hero, to be even greater and sublimer in his victorious and immortal death a few months later—Nelson was in her! Stanhope heard the splash of their bodies, as they lit among the decoys. He wondered why Billy did not shoot. A tense moment passed and still the old gun gave no voice. Moll was whining low and eagerly. Then, suddenly, there arose the sound of webbed feet slapping water, strong wings lifted to the wind, and Stanhope knew that the ducks had gone. "I'm here, ma'am," answered Pledge. "Gosh," cried Elgin Scraff, "there goes the bell! Come on everybody; let's get our medicine.".