"No one ever deserved it less," exclaimed Fleming. "The devil, to my mind, is cunning and cowardly, and a fool into the bargain. Resist him, and he'll run away. Act a straightforward, honest part, and he can never get round you. Lord Cochrane, you see, mates, was as true and honest as steel, as brave as his sword, and so wise, that he never undertook to do anything when he didn't see the way clear before him that would lead to success." Tom agreed also in heartily praising their old chief, though they were not very complimentary to the Spaniards or to the people of Chili, whom he had come to assist. "I say, Tom, do you mind when we were going away from Valparaiso to attack Callao, and you and I were serving aboard the _O'Higgins_, how that lieutenant brought the admiral's little son on board?" said Fleming, for the purpose, I suspect, of drawing his friend out. "Ay, that I do," answered Tom Carver. "You see the flag-lieutenant had gone on shore for some of the admiral's traps, when he fell in with the little chap, who wasn't more than five or six years old. `I want to go with father,' says he. `I must go with father aboard the big ship there. I will go.' At first the lieutenant said he couldn't take him; but the little fellow cried out so, that he couldn't find it in his heart to refuse him; so he lifted him up on his shoulders and carried him away to the boat. The child shouted and crowed with pleasure, waving his little hat above his head, just like a sucking hero as he was. When the people saw it, they seemed as if they would grow mad with delight, and followed him in crowds, cheering and crying out, `_Viva la Patria_' at the top of their voices. I was one of the boat's crew, and certainly there was something in it somehow which took our fancy mightily. Off we pulled aboard the flag-ship, before Lady Cochrane found out what had become of the child, and I daresay she was in a great taking. Well, we only got aboard just as the ship was under weigh, and he couldn't be sent on shore again. There was nothing to be done but to take him with us. We weren't sorry to have him, for, you see, next to a monkey, there's nothing does a ship's company more good than having a little child to look after. The small chap had nothing but the clothes he was dressed in. `What's to be done with him?' says the admiral. `Why, bless ye, my lord, he'll have fifty nurses, every one as good as the she-maids as has to look after him ashore,' answered Ben Brown, the admiral's coxswain; `and as for clothing, the ship's tailor will rig him out in no time.' To my mind, the admiral rather liked having the little fellow with him. Fearless himself, he couldn't even feel fear for one of those he loved best on earth. Young master very soon made himself at home among us, and in a couple of days the ship's tailor had as complete a midshipman's uniform made for him as you'd wish to see.