“There was no uncertainty on my mind at the time I wrote, ma’am. I was, as I believe I mentioned, in the Tender alongside, waiting to carry intelligence to the fleet, as soon as the last of the enemy should be seen to strike. Edmund was standing in a very conspicuous situation, just over me, (out on one of the flukes of the anchor;) when, bang! and in one moment I saw the ball coming towards him, and the next his heels lifted above his head, and his legs and arms going round in the air, like the wings of a windmill! I thought, of course, he must be blown into a thousand atoms! What else could I think?” he added, observing Julia’s involuntary shudder, with a look of gratified malice. “And I supposed,” he continued, still addressing his aunt, “that you would rather hear it from a friend, than see the first of it in the papers. So I wrote on board the Tender, and, as soon as we joined the fleet, sent my letter by the first opportunity. I think I was very considerate! We had our order to sail, you see, the moment the enemy struck; so that I had no time to hear that he was not killed.” “I am sure, the papers, or any thing,” said Frances, “would have been better than your letter, Henry; which was worded, I think, much in the same delicate manner that you expressed yourself just now. But you never lose an opportunity of giving pain, Henry. I dare say, if the truth was known, you took quite a pleasure in writing that cruel letter, and fancying how wretched it would make us all!—For Edmund is not like you; every body loves him, poor dear fellow!” “Candid, at least!” observed Henry, with a sneer. “But I am always fortunate in possessing Lady Frances’s good opinion. Sailors, however, have no time to be nice,” he added. “When fellows die, or are killed, (which is the same thing, you know) we throw them overboard, and if the fighting’s done, pipe to dinner! Edmund will do as much for me, or I for him, one of those days; just as it may happen. Edmund, to be sure, is likely to kick the bucket as soon as any one, for he’s cursed rash!” Frances saw, with kindling resentment, the pain that every word was inflicting on poor Julia. “There is nothing of your strange jargon comprehensible,” she said, “but such expressions as are calculated to wound the feelings; those, as usual, are obvious enough.” “If young ladies choose to volunteer their feelings for every fellow in His Majesty’s service,” retorted Henry, “they’ll have something to do now-a-days. There’s many a better man than Edmund, and that would be a greater loss to his friends too, that will feed the fishes yet before the war is over, I can tell you!” “It’s capital fun,” he added, glancing at Julia, “to see a villain of a shark, after he has followed the ship the length of a day, just make two bites of a fellow!” “Strange notions of fun, you have, Henry,” said Mrs. Montgomery. “How should you like it to happen to yourself, Henry?” asked Frances.