In one of the great frigate duels with the English, it happened that a round-shot from the enemy entered one of our ports square, and took right down the officer of the gun himself, and almost every man of the gun’s crew. Now you may say what you choose about courage, but that is not a nice thing to see. But, as the men who were not killed picked themselves up, and as they and the surgeon’s people were carrying off the bodies, there appeared Nolan, in his shirt sleeves, with the rammer in his hand, and, just as if he had been the officer, told them off with authority--who should go to the cockpit with the wounded men, who should stay with him--perfectly cheery, and with that way which makes men feel sure all is right and is going to be right. And he finished loading the gun with his own hands, aimed it, and bade the men fire. And there he stayed, captain of that gun, keeping those fellows in spirits, till the enemy struck,--sitting on the carriage while the gun was cooling, though he was exposed all the time,--showing them easier ways to handle heavy shot, making the raw hands laugh at their own blunders, and when the gun cooled again, getting it loaded and fired twice as often as any other gun on the ship. The captain walked forward by way of encouraging the men, and Nolan touched his hat and said: “I am showing them how we do this in the artillery, sir.” The commodore said: “I see you are, and I thank you, sir; and I shall never forget this day, sir, and you never shall, sir.” And after the whole thing was over, and he had the Englishman’s sword, in the midst of the state and ceremony of the quarter-deck, he said: “Where is Mr. Nolan? Ask Mr. Nolan to come here.” And when Nolan came he said: “Mr. Nolan, we are all very grateful to you to-day; you are one of us to-day; you will be named in the dispatches.” And then the old man took off his own sword of ceremony and gave it to Nolan, and made him put it on. The man told me this who saw it. Nolan cried like a baby, and well he might. He had not worn a sword since that day at Fort Adams. But always afterwards, on occasions of ceremony, he wore that quaint old French sword of the commodore’s. * * * * * I first came to understand anything about “the man without a country” one day when we overhauled a dirty little schooner which had slaves on board. An officer was sent to take charge of her, and after a few minutes he sent back his boat to ask that some one might be sent him who could speak Portuguese. Nolan stepped out and said he should be glad to interpret if the captain wished, as he understood the language. “Tell them they are free,” said Vaughan. Then there was a yell of delight, clinching of fists, leaping and dancing, kissing of Nolan’s feet. “Tell them,” said Vaughan, well pleased, “that I will take them all to Cape Palmas.”