“Lord Nelson was at this time, as he had been during the whole Action, walking the starboard side of the quarter-deck; sometimes much animated, and at others heroically fine in his observations. A shot through the mainmast knocked a few splinters about us. He observed to me, with a smile, ‘It is warm work, and this day may be the last to any of us at a moment’; and then stopping short at the gangway, he used an expression never to be erased from my memory, and said with emotion, ‘but mark you, I would not be elsewhere for thousands.’ When the signal, No. 39, [to discontinue the engagement], was made, the Signal Lieutenant reported it to him. He continued his walk, and did not appear to take notice of it. The Lieutenant meeting his Lordship at the next turn asked, ‘whether he should repeat it?’ Lord Nelson answered, ‘No, acknowledge it.’ On the Officer returning to the poop, his Lordship called after him, ‘Is No. 16 [for close action] still hoisted?’ the Lieutenant answering in the affirmative, Lord Nelson said, ‘Mind you keep it so.’ He now walked the deck considerably agitated, which was always known by his moving the stump of his right arm. After a turn or two, he said to me, in a quick manner, ‘Do you know what’s shown on board of the Commander-in-chief, No. 39?’ On asking him what that meant, he answered, ‘Why, to leave off Action.’ ‘Leave off Action!’ he repeated, and then added, with a shrug, ‘Now, ---- me if I do.’ He also observed, I believe, to Captain Foley, ‘You know, Foley, I have only one eye--I have a right to be blind sometimes’; and then with an archness peculiar to his character, putting the glass to his blind eye, he exclaimed, ‘I really do not see the signal.’[55] This remarkable signal was, therefore, only acknowledged on board the _Elephant_, not repeated. Admiral Graves did the latter, not being able to distinguish the _Elephant’s_ conduct: either by a fortunate accident, or intentionally, No. 16 was not displaced. The Squadron of Frigates obeyed the signal, and hauled off. That brave Officer, Captain Riou, was killed by a raking shot, when the _Amazon_ showed her stern to the Trekroner. He was sitting on a gun, was encouraging his men, and had been wounded in the head by a splinter. He had expressed himself grieved at being thus obliged to retreat, and nobly observed, ‘What will Nelson think of us?’ His Clerk was killed by his side; and by another shot, several of the Marines, while hauling on the main-brace, shared the same fate. Riou then exclaimed, ‘Come then, my boys, let us die all together!’ The words were scarcely uttered, when the fatal shot severed him in two. Thus, and in an instant, was the British service deprived of one of its greatest ornaments, and society of a character of singular worth, resembling the heroes of romance.