tain Carroway, whatever could be purer? When you were at sea,
had you ever a man of the downright principles of Nelson?"

"Nelson has done very well in his way; but he is a man who has risen too
fast, as other men rise too slowly. Nothing in him; no substance,
madam; I knew him as a youngster, and I could have tossed him on a
marling-spike. And instead of feeding well, Sir, he quite wore himself
away. To my firm knowledge, he would scarcely turn the scale upon a good
Frenchman of half of the peas. Every man should work his own way up,
unless his father did it for him. In my time we had fifty men as good,
and made no fuss about them."

"And you not the last of them, captain, I dare say. Though I do love to
hear of the Lord's Lord Nelson, as the people call him. If ever a man
fought his own way up--"

"Madam, I know him, and respect him well. He would walk up to the devil,
with a sword between his teeth, and a boarder's pistol in each hand.
Madam, I leaped, in that condition, a depth of six fathoms and a half
into the starboard mizzen-chains of the French line-of-battle ship Peace
and Thunder."

"Oh, Captain Carroway, how dreadful! What had you to lay hold with?"

"At such times a man must not lay hold. My business was to lay about;
and I did it to some purpose. This little slash, across my eyes struck
fire, and it does the same now by moonlight."

One of the last men in the world to brag was Lieutenant Carroway.
Nothing but the great thirst of this morning, and strong necessity
of quenching it, could ever have led him to speak about himself, and
remember his own little exploits. But the farmer was pleased, and said,
"Tell us some more, Sir."

"Mistress Anerley," the captain answered, shutting up the scar, which he
was able to expand by means of a muscle of excitement, "you know that
a man should drop these subjects when he has got a large family. I have
been in the Army and the Navy, madam, and now I am in the Revenue; but
my duty is first to my own house."

"Do take care, Sir; I beg you to be careful. Those free-traders now are
come to such a pitch that any day or night they may shoot you."

"Not they, madam. No, they are not murderers. In a hand-to-hand conflict
they might do it, as I might do the same to them. This very morning my
men shot at the captain of all smugglers, Robin Lyth, of Flamborough,
with a hundred guineas upon his head. It was no wish of mine; but my
breath was short to stop them, and a man