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"Yes, Nelson is the great sea-poem of the age," said Captain Acton, "and I find more melody in the thunder of his guns than in the prettiest turns of the poetic measure. Are you going home, sister?" PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS Was ever woman in this humour won?".
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"My dear sister, we are going to do nothing of the sort. Not that a voyage to the West Indies in such a vessel as the Aurora would be a fearful adventure or a terrible ordeal. Indeed I never look at that little ship," said he, turning his eyes in the direction of the schooner, "without a longing to be on her deck when she is fully clothed, when the liberal breeze of the sea blows steadily, and when bending under her white heights she springs like the flying fish from one sparkling sea to another, cradled always by the rocking hand of the swell." Captain Acton levelled his telescope. He did not need to long survey the figure of the woman who was standing near the tiller that was grasped by a man. The lenses brought her face close to him. "Humph! well that bein' so, I'm goin' to help him see the error of his ways this night if ever I did," she promised grimly. "Why, sartinly, your honour," answered the man, looking at the Admiral..
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