The excessive heat of the cockpit, from the
number of the dead and wounded, increased
the famtness of the dying admiral, and his sight
now became dim.

"Who brought the message?" he said, feebly.

"Bulkly, my lord," replied Burke.

"It is his voice," said Nelson. "Remember
me, Bulkly, to your father."

Captain Hardy came down from the deck in
about fifty minutes, and anxiously strove to
conceal his feelings. The friends shook hands in
silence. Nelson spoke first:

"Well, Hardy, how goes the day with us?"

"Very well. Ten ships, my lord, have struck."

"But none of ours, I hope?"

"There is no fear of that, my lord. Five of
their van have tacked, and show an intention of
bearing down upon us; but I have called some
of our fresh ships round the Victory, and have
no doubt of giving them a drubbing."

Having said this, he found himself unable
any longer to suppress his tears, and he hurried
away.

The firing continued, and the cheering of
the men was occasionally heard amidst its
repeated peals. With a wish to support his spirits,
that were in some degree shaken by having seen
the friend he so sincerely regarded, and from the
increased pain, the agonies of excessive thirst, and
the great difficulty of respiration, Burke said:

"I still hope, my lord, you will carry this
glorious news home."

"Don't talk nonsense," replied the admiral.
"One would, indeed, like to live a little longer;
but I know it to be impossible. God's will be
done. I have performed my duty, and I
devoutly thank Him for it. A wounded seaman
was lying near him on a pallet, waiting for
amputation, and, in the bustle that prevailed, was
hurt by some person passing by. Nelson, weak
as he was, indignantly turned his head, and, with
his usual authority, rebuked the man for not
having more humanity. Some time afterwards,
he was again visited by the surgeon.

"You know I am gone—I feel it. I find,"
said he, "something rising in my breast, which
tells me" (putting his hand on his left side) "I
shall soon be gone. God be praised that I have
done my duty. My pain is so severe that I
devoutly wish to be released. Yet," said he, in
a lower voice, "one would like to live a little
longer, too!" And after a few minutes, in the
same under tone, he added, "What would
become of poor Lady Hamilton, if she knew my
situation!"

A spirited, fierce, rapid fire had been kept
up from the Victory's starboard guns on the
Redoutable for about fifteen minutes after
Lord Nelson was wounded; in which time
Captain Adair and about eighteen seamen and
marines were killed, and Lieutenant Bligh, Mr.
Palmer, midshipman, and twenty seamen and
marines were wounded, by the enemy's musketry
alone. The Redoutable had been twice on fire
in her fore-chains and on the forecastle, and, by
throwing some combustibles, had set fire to the
Victory's boom; the alarm was given, and it
reached the cockpit; yet neither hurry nor
trepidation appeared, and the crew having put out
the fiames, immediately turned their attention
to the Redoutable, and rendered her all the
assistance in their power. On the colours of
that ship being struck—twenty minutes after
Nelson fell—and there being no possibility of
boarding her, from the state of ruin of both ships,
the great space between the two gangways, and
the closing of the enemy's ports, some seamen
immediately volunteered their services to
Lieutenant Quillam to jump overboard, and, by
swimming under the bows of the Redoutable,
to endeavour to secure the prize. But Captain
Hardy thought the lives of such men too
valuable to be risked by so desperate an
attempt. When the firing from the Victory had
in some measure ceased, and the glorious results
of the day were accomplished, Captain Hardy
immediately visited the dying chief, and reported
that fourteen or fifteen vessels had already
struck.

"That's well!" cried Nelson, exultingly;
"but I bargained for twenty" Then, in a
louder and stronger voice, he said, "God be
praised, Hardy; bring the fleet to an anchor."
Captain Hardy hinted at the command
devolving on Admiral Collingwood. Nelson re-
plied, somewhat indignantly:

"Not whilst I live, I hope, Hardy!" vainly
endeavouring at the moment to raise himself on
his pallet. "Do you," said he, "bring the fleet
to anchor."

Captain Hardy was returning to the deck,
when the admiral called him back, and begged
him to come nearer. Lord Nelson then delivered
his last injunctions, which were, that his hair
might be cut off and given to Lady Hamilton,
and that his body might not be thrown
overboard, but be carried home to be buried, unless
his sovereign should otherwise desire, by the
bones of his father and mother.

"Take care of my dear Lady Hamilton,
Hardy; take care of poor Lady Hamilton."

He then took Captain Hardy by the hand,
and observing that he would most probably not
see him again alive, the dying hero desired his
bosom associate to kiss him. He did so on the
cheek. He stood for a few minutes in silent
agony, then, kneeling down, he kissed his dying
friend's forehead.

"Who is that?" said the hero.

"It is Hardy, my lord."

"God bless you, Hardy!" replied Nelson,
feebly.

Hardy then left him for ever. Nelson
afterwards said:

"I wish he had not left the deck; I shall soon
be gone."

Death was rapidly approaching. He said to
the chaplain, "Doctor, I have not been a great
sinner." And, after a short pause, "Remember
that I leave Lady Hamilton and my
daughter Horatia as a legacy to my country."

His voice then gradually became inarticulate,
with an evident increase of pain; when, after
a feeble struggle, these last words were
distinctly heard:

"I have done my duty; I praise God for it."