auled to the wind so as to interpose
between the "Victory" and the approaching van of the allies. Covered
now by two wholly fresh ships, the captain felt at liberty to quit the
deck, in accordance with Nelson's desire. The two tried friends--Hardy
had been everywhere with him since the day of St. Vincent, and was
faithful enough to speak to Lady Hamilton more freely than she
liked--shook hands affectionately. "Well, Hardy," said Nelson, "how
goes the battle? How goes the day with us?" "Very well, my Lord,"
replied Hardy. "We have got twelve or fourteen of the enemy's ships in
our possession, but five of their van have tacked, and show an
intention of bearing down upon the Victory. I have therefore called
two or three of our fresh ships round us, and have no doubt of giving
them a drubbing." "I hope none of _our_ ships have struck, Hardy."
"No, my Lord," was the answer, "there is no fear of that." Nelson then
said, "I am a dead man, Hardy. I am going fast: it will be all over
with me soon. Come nearer to me. Pray let my dear Lady Hamilton have
my hair, and all other things belonging to me." Hardy observed that he
hoped Mr. Beatty could yet hold out some prospect of life. "Oh no!"
replied Nelson; "it is impossible. My back is shot through. Beatty
will tell you so." Hardy then returned to the deck, shaking hands
again before parting.

Nelson now desired the surgeons to leave him to the attendants, as one
for whom nothing could be done, and to give their professional care
where it would be of some avail. In a few moments he recalled the
chief surgeon, and said, "I forgot to tell you that all power of
motion and feeling below my breast are gone; and _you_ very well
_know_ I can live but a short time." From the emphasis he placed on
his words, the surgeon saw he was thinking of a case of spinal injury
to a seaman some months before, which had proved mortal after many
days' suffering; yet it would seem that, despite the conviction that
rested on his mind, the love of life, and of all it meant to him, yet
clung to the hope that possibly there might be a reprieve. "One would
like to live a little longer," he murmured; and added, "What would
become of poor Lady Hamilton if she knew my situation!" "Beatty," he
said again, "_you know_ I am gone." "My Lord," replied the surgeon,
with a noble and courteous simplicity, "unhappily for our country,
nothing can be done for you;" and he turned away to conceal the
emotion which he could n