Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he observed, as they were carrying him down the ladder, that the tiller ropes, which had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered that new ones should be rove immediately:--then, that he might not be seen by the crew, he took out his handkerchief, and covered his face and his stars.--Had he but concealed these badges of honor from the enemy, England, perhaps, would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news of the battle of Trafalgar. [Illustration: From the painting by Ernest Slingeneyer. THE DEATH OF NELSON AT TRAFALGAR.] It was soon perceived, upon examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed from all except Captain Hardy, the chaplain, and the medical attendants. He himself being certain that no human care could avail him, insisted that the surgeon should leave him and attend to those to whom he might be useful. “For,” said he, “you can do nothing for me.” As often as a ship struck, the crew of the _Victory_ hurrahed; and at every hurrah a visible expression of joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero. An hour and ten minutes elapsed, from the time when Nelson received his wound, before Hardy could come to him. They shook hands in silence; Hardy in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful and yet sublimest moment. “Well, Hardy,” said Nelson, “how goes the day with us?”--“Very well,” replied Hardy; “ten ships have struck, but five of their van have tacked, and show an intention of bearing down upon the _Victory_. I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing.”--“I hope,” said Nelson, “none of our ships have struck?” Hardy answered, “There was no fear of that.” Then, and not till then, Nelson spoke of himself. “I am going fast,” said he;--“it will be all over with me soon.” Hardy observed that he hoped Mr. Beatty could yet hold out some prospect of life. “Oh, no!” he replied; “it is impossible.” Captain Hardy then, once more, shook hands with him; and, with a heart almost bursting, hastened upon deck. Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, returned; and, again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, congratulated him on having gained a complete victory. How many of the enemy were taken he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive them distinctly--but fourteen or fifteen at least. “That’s well,” cried Nelson; “but I bargained for twenty.” And then, in a stronger voice, he said, “Anchor, Hardy; anchor.” Hardy, upon this, hinted that Admiral Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs. “Not while I live, Hardy!” said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavoring to raise himself from the bed: “do you anchor.”