"And not a bad best eether, as I know," came the squeezed voice. "And when you've won through to Nelson, as win through it's my firm faith you will--and laid that there in his hand"--his voice came in pants, and pauses, and with little runs--"tell him I sarved him all I was able and give him--my kind dooty--old Ding-dong's dooty." There was a gasping silence. "That's my revenge. He'll understand." CHAPTER XIX OLD DING-DONG HOMEWARD-BOUND The light was ebbing fast, and old Ding-dong with it. All was silence and a few pale stars. The old seaman began to wander. Scenes near, scenes far, drifted across his fading mind. Now he was a tiny lad babbling in broadest dialect to his mother at the washing-tub; now he was a pit boy yelling at Susannah, the one-eyed pit pony; anon he was on the spar-deck of the Don, holding by the hand the father of the boy who now held his. Then there came a silence, and out of it the words, clean and quiet: "I'm the old man Nelson never forgave for doin of his dooty." His brain seemed to clear. He began to tell a story half to himself, half to the stars--the story of the incident of his life. "A'ter the Nile [Footnote: It was after the battle of the Nile, on his return to Naples, that Nelson succumbed to the fascination of Lady Hamilton.] it were--when we got back to Naples. Things got bad, very bad. At last Tom Troubridge wrote to him--I saw the letter. Tom and he'd been very thick--till then. Things got worse. It was in the papers and all. Somebody had to tackle him. Nobody durst--only old Ding-dong." The wind gathered round to listen. A few curious stars pricked the darkness above. The old man's voice was gaining strength as he went on. "So I goes aboord the _Vanguard_, and there in his own state-room I says the thing that had to be said and I says it straight." Kit was listening intently. The strange blurred voice coming to his out of the darkness moved him to his deeps. "Ooop joomps Nelson, raving mad. 'My God, Hardin!' he screams--'Ger off o my ship!--_Ger off o my ship!_ GER OFF O MY SHIP!' "'Pardon, my lord,' says I. 'I've done my dooty as a man, though I may have exceeded it as a sailor!' "He called me a blanky pit boy. "'A pit boy I was, my lord,' says I, 'and not ashamed on it; and powder-monkey to Hawke afoor your lordship was born. For nigh on fifty years I've touched the King's pay, and ate the King's salt. I'm the Father o this fleet, and all for the Service, as the sayin is. And I can't stand by and see the first officer in the British Navy lowerin himself in the eyes of Europe without a word.'" The darkness hushed; the moon stared; the stars crept closer. "He struck me. Nelson struck me in the mug. I wiped the blood away with my cuff. 'That's not the Nelson I know, my lord,' says I, and stumps out. And I never seen him from that day to this." The boy could hear the old man's breath fluttering in the darkness.