the little man walked forward and ascended
the companion ladder. "I like him, Jack, almost as much as I do you."

"And so you ought," said Jack, gruffly, "for that's our admiral, Lord
Nelson, the greatest man in the world."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

It was not long after that Phil was between decks, talking to his new
friend, the crippled boy, whose face always expanded into a grin of
satisfaction when his nurse appeared.

"Here, I wanted you," he cried. "I've got some news. The doctor told
me--"

"Did he say that you might soon try to walk?" cried Phil, eagerly.

"No; he said that my leg was going on well, but I was not to try to use
it for a long time yet. He told me that we are going to have a big
fight with the French. Isn't it a bother? For I sha'n't be able to go
to my gun."

"Jack Jeens said he didn't think we should have a fight," replied Phil.

"He doesn't know anything about it," said the lame boy, impatiently.
"But I say, I shall be obliged to stop below; you might come and stop
with me."

"Jack said I should be sent below if there was a fight, so I will."

"That's right," said the boy, with a sigh of relief. "I didn't want for
you to see it and me stop below."

Phil looked at him in rather a puzzled way, for he did not know whether
he was disappointed or pleased--whether he would like to see the battle
or prefer to go below.

But he was not to choose, and a few days later he was quite forgotten in
the excitement of the great incident. For he had been trained to
certain duties in connection with one of the guns, and when the orders
were given for the different crews to take their places, he ran to his
naturally enough, perfectly ignorant of the fact that the British Fleet
was in "Trafalgar's Bay," with the Frenchmen before them, while the
British sailors, wild with excitement, were eagerly awaiting the orders
that should set hundreds of guns bellowing like thunder as they poured
their broadsides of shot into the enemy's sides.

All that little Phil knew was that his ears were deafened by the roar,
his throat throbbing and suffering from the dense clouds of smoke which
darkened the sky, and that he could hardly see Jack Jeens, who, like the
rest of the crew, was stripped to the waist, as he helped to load their
gun, which grew hotter and hotter, and finally leapt from the deck at
every discharge.

He could only see dimly for the sulphurous mist before his eyes, but
there was was Jack Jeens