for
the dying hero.

It was almost momentary. Then the little group closed in again and
passed along the deck, while with the horror and confusion increasing
once more, Phil found himself following Jack Jeens, who was being
carried below to where the surgeon and his helpmates were busy over
their terrible task, and all that the powder monkey saw more of the
Battle of Trafalgar was a dim lanthorn swinging by a hammock in which
lay poor Jack Jeens, badly wounded, but with energy enough left to smile
at his nurse, who was watching by his side.

It was the next morning when, after a stupor-like sleep, Jack opened his
eyes, which brightened a little as he saw who was still with him.

"Are you better, Jack?" whispered Phil, anxiously.

"Lots, boy," was the reply; "only I want to know. Tell me--who won?
No, don't, if it was the French."

"No, it wasn't them," was the quick reply. "We beat, and everyone says
it is a great--great--yes, victory--that's it."

"Hoo-roar!" came in a faint whisper from Jack Jeens' lips, and a smile
of thankfulness lit up his face for a few moments.

But for a few moments only, for like a shadow came the recollection of
something he had seen before he had fainted away from loss of blood.

He lay for a while gazing at Phil as if afraid to speak. Then summoning
up his courage he whispered:

"Phil, boy, when I was shot down and you held the water for me to drink,
did I dream something?"

Phil gazed back in his eyes, but did not speak, for he with the
recollection fresh upon him knew what his poor messmate meant.

And so they rested for a few moments looking in each other's eyes, till
Jack's slowly closed, and he uttered a low groan.

"I hoped it was a dream," he said, "and all fancy. But tell me now,
Phil, boy; is it true?"

"Yes," said the little fellow, softly, and there was a choking sound in
his fresh young voice as he whispered the words in the wounded sailor's
ear: "Yes; Lord Nelson is dead."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

It was about a fortnight after the _Victory_ had returned to port, that
a lady in deep mourning came off in a shore boat asking for the captain,
but in his absence having to see the first lieutenant instead.

This officer listened to her rather impatiently at first; but after a
minute or two he began to take a good deal of interest in the statement
she made.

"Oh, yes," he said, at last; "we have such a boy on board. He came with
one of the men who were pressed