III
The Parson bent.
"Piper!" he called low. "Piper!" The old man stirred.
"D'you know who I am?"
One great forefinger uplifted and fell.
"We won through," choked the Parson. "Nelson's safe."
The old man's lips parted.
"Mr. Caryll's brought a message for you from Nelson," continued the Parson. "Kit!"
The boy bent his lips to the ear of the dying sailor.
"Piper!" he cried, his pure boy's voice ringing out fearlessly. "Nelson—sent—his—love—to—you—his—love."
"He can't hear," choked the Parson. "It's no good."
"Hush," said the boy.
He knew the message would take minutes travelling along the dying passages to the brain.
At last, at last it reached.
The old man's face broke into a smile, fair as a winter sunset.
"Love" he whispered, nodded deliberately, and died.