"Thank you," said Nelson quietly. "Old Agamemnons never forget each other.... If by any mercy of God my old friend should be alive," he continued, "give him my love--Nelson's love; and say his old captain's proud to have sailed with such a man." "We will indeed," said the Parson thickly. "Come, Kit." "No, no," cried Nelson, staying him. "You'll leave me my midshipman. I want all my best men by me now." The Parson turned. "What say you, Kit?" The boy looked at Nelson. "Take your choice, my boy." "I should like to see the thing through, my lord." Nelson patted him on the shoulder. "There spoke the seaman," he said. "Never be satisfied with nearly. Always go for quite." CHAPTER LXXX THE _MEDUSA_ DIPS HER ENSIGN I The _Medusa_ had gone about and was rocking lazily home, the land misty on her larboard. Forward a knot of tars were gathered, Blob's cherub-face for centre-piece. The lad was telling his tale in his slow, musical way. A hoary old sea-dog with unlaughing eyes was putting leading questions. The men crowded round with grins and thrusting heads. They spat; they chewed; they nudged each other. Here and there a ripple rose to a roar. One man turned his back, and hands deep in his pockets, laughed silently in the face of heaven. Another was stuffing his pig-tail into his mouth to stifle his merriment. Blob held on his ghastly way unheeding. His eyes, fresh as dew, had the round and staring look of a new-born babe; the tulip face lolled forward on slender stalk; and a tip of pink tongue played about a mouth, beautiful as a bud. "And what did er say then?" "Whoy," came the pure voice, "er said--'Dear! dear!' and Oi says--Theer! theer!' and plops it in, and plops it in, and plops it in." The Parson hailed him from the poop. The little group broke up. Blob came through them, calm as the moon, and as unconscious. "Who is the lad?" whispered Nelson, as the boy lolloped up in laceless boots, hands deep in his waistband. "One of the garrison," replied the Parson. "Simple Sussex--with the face of a cherub and the soul of a stoat." "Ah," said Nelson, "another of the heroes." He took a step towards the advancing boy. "I don't know your name," said the Victor of the Nile with grave courtesy. "But I may shake you by the hand?" "Ye'," said Blob, mouth and eyes round. "Thank you," said the hero, taking the other's limp paw. "I am Lord Nelson." "Ah," said Blob. "O'im Blob Oad what killed Nabowlin Bownabaardie." "You've saved me a lot o trouble," replied Nelson, grave but for his twinkling eye. Blob stared, breathing like a beast. "Don't you ave two arms on you?" he asked at last curiously. "I get along very well with one, thank you." "Mus. Poiper, he've got no legs--only ends loike," pursued Blob. The Parson hailed him. "Hi! are you coming ashore with us, or will you stay with this gentleman to fight the French?" The boy wagged his head cunningly. "Oi'll goo with Maaster Sir. Oi'm his lad."