he got into the deserted fortress, and wrote
home an account of how he had repulsed
nine thousand British soldiers with the loss of
three men; for which exploit he was
made a baron on, and advanced a step in
rank.

"Now, when young Nero got on board his ship
the captain asked, why the Wickeds he hadn't
gone down to that there island, as he had
ordered? 'I've been, sir,' said Nero, very
sharp, 'and got all the information we
require.' Whereupon he told him all, just as
I've told it to you, sir. But the captain was
a gentleman that didn't approve of things out
of the common, and he says, very coldly,
'You have unnecessarily exposed the men's
lives, and His Majesty's vessel, and you'll
consider yourself under arrest. I will write an
account of your behaviour to the admiral, and
you will probably be dismissed the service.' So
he wrote a full history of all that young Nero
had done, tied it all up in the reddest of tape
as he had, and was very fain to send him home
at once as a dangerous character. But as soon
as a fast sailing frigate could come from the
admiral—which was a friend of Nelson's, and
knew the Nelson touch as well as any man alive
—the captain was forced to call young Nero on
the quarter-deck and, in the presence of all
the ship's company, present him with a
acting order to serve as lieutenant, and
to join the admiral's ship without delay. All
the twelve of the crew wanted to go with
him, but he could only get leave for Will
Hatch, which has never left him since, and is,
at this moment, casting a loving eye on
the batteries of Semastyfool, so let that
there Scar of Rooshia look out, for Nero will
take it as sure as a gun."

Mr. Sparks rewarded himself for this
interesting account with a rather copious infusion
of fresh matter into his tumbler. And now
that the flood-gates of speech were opened he
poured forth:—"I s'pose, sir, as I never seen
you before, I never told you the story of how
young Nero got his ship ashore, and as near
as possible lost his commission. Well, sir,
here it is—short and straight, for you haven't
time to be a listening here all night. You've
heard, perhaps, of love, sir,—a many songs
have been written about it, and if you
never met with it yourself you may know it
by the descriptions. It's something like the
meesels or hooping-cough, sir; everybody
must have it once in their lives, and if by
chance it comes a second time, it's
always exceeding mild. Well, when young
Nero was first took with the eruption, he was
in command of a sloop, and stood away for
where his lady lived, though it was out
of the bounds of the station where he was
placed. But it was just out of bounds,
and he thought by clever handling he might
run close in shore, and post with quick horses
up to where his sweetheart was, and be
back on his station again afore his absence
was noticed. His sweetheart was a lady of
high rank, and Bill Hatch, which went
with him in the chase, has told me that
better liquors was nowhere in England than
he had that night in the servants' hall. Oh!
there was singing and dancing, and what not
in the drawing-room: and I'll be sworn a
good specimen of the same in the kitchen,
too, for I've heard Bill crack a tumbler by
the noise he made in 'Cease rude Boreas;'
and as to dancing, he would wear a hole in
an oak plank afore he'd give over the shuffle.
So, when the gentlefolks was a thinking of
going to bed, a little tap comes to the door;
and Will Hatch, which was in the middle of
the Jolly Young Waterman at that very
moment, felt a shock as if something was a
going to happen; and a footman goes to the
door, and Will hears a voice which said,
'Tell Will Hatch to tell the captain she's
bumped, bows on, and will only have five
foot water at low tide.' The footman looked
surprised, and asked who "she" was; but Will
Hatch had gone to the door, discovered the
captain of the foretop, and heard it was all
true. A message was sent into the drawing-
room, and young Nero come out into the
passage. What was to be done? It was
two o'clock in the morning—the tide would
fall for another hour. In five minutes he and
Will Hatch and the messenger was on their
way: in a hour and a half they was on
board. All the ship's company knew the
scrape the captain was in. How they worked
with the boats; how they lightened the ship;
how they landed some of the guns; how they
toiled with heart and hand till morning light.
And then the tide was still on the rise—
higher—higher—and the work of unloading
still went on. There was a coast-guard station
near, and a line of telegraphs that held
palavers over hills and valleys with a great
arsenal to the east. If the authorities heard
of the accident, there would be a tremenduous
kick up—salvage—court-martial—dismissal.
And still the tide come on! But suddenly
went up a cursed straight rod of the
telegraph, that meant 'ship'—followed in a
moment by a little arm that pointed downwards,
and that meant 'ashore.' So in three
minutes it was known all over the port as
a ship was on shore. Come on! come on!
blessed tide! For in an hour and a half the
captain of the harbour will be here; and lighters
will be here; and reporters for Times
newspapers will be here! Well it rose, and it rose,
and at last with all the ship's boats a tugging at
her stern, she heaved once or twice majestically,
and slipt her bows off the land—it was
only a spit of sand and no harm done—and
glided away into deep water as if nothing
had happened. Then the work began. The
cargo had to be taken on board, the guns
replaced, the disorder rectified; and just when
the last stroke was done, and the vessel was
fit for service, a long line of craft was seen
coming round the point! There was the
harbour-master's yacht, and the admiral's