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"Your telescope is in the hall, sir," said the Admiral. "But your sight is very good. I presume that you are aware that your ship has left her berth, and is not in the Harbour." He shook his head. "Not tonight, thanks. You're tired, and I've a long ride before me. Next time I come we'll have tea," he promised as he turned to shake hands with Landon. "She's not the Minorca?" cried the Admiral..

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Captain Acton and the Admiral turned into the Custom House, and the first person they met after leaving it was Josiah Weaver, master of the Aurora, a thick-set man of a dark-red complexion rendered more glowing still by the[Pg 176] sun, greasy deep-red hair, ear-rings, and brown eyes which moved sharply in their sheaths. "Well," said Captain Acton, "I may say of Nelson as Pope said of Dryden: Virgilium tantum vidi. I was on the Hard when two Naval officers came ashore. I was thinking of other matters, and scarcely observed them until they were abreast or a little past me. Then my glance going to one I instantly perceived he was Nelson. His companion, I believe, was Troubridge. In the glimpse I got of Nelson's face I was struck by its paleness and careworn appearance. He looked at least fifteen years older than his age. They passed rapidly out of sight. I cannot express the emotions which that one-armed little figure excited in me—St Valentine's Day, the Nile, Copenhagen!" Silence, deep and brooding, fell. Then suddenly from the loft came a long wail, followed by a succession of shorter gasps and gulps, and above the swish of a hickory ram-rod a woman's voice exclaiming angrily. "Say, you," called Tom, "if this is such an all-fired good spot it's a wonder you didn't take it yourself; you had lots of time to beat us to it, didn't you?".