"I once asked Nelson who was the bravest man he'd ever met. He answered like a flash, 'My captain of the foretop aboard the Agamemnon—Ralph Piper. The bravest man,' said Nelson, 'because the best. He's my hero!' And I remember the voice in which he said it now."
Kit had risen to his feet.
All his life Nelson had been his hero; and now he was within touch of his hero's hero.
"Where is he?" with glowing eyes.
"Out there—under the sycamores."
Kit recalled the voice humming the hymn that had welcomed him.
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE SAINT
They passed out of the cottage.
A heavy-browed jasmine, the flowers fading now, hung about the door.