"For Dover, my lord, Dover?" blankly.
"And don't let me have to repeat my orders."
"Very good indeed, my lord. Very good indeed." He trotted forward, barking fussily.
Nelson climbed on to the poop, Kit at his heels, and leaned over the side listlessly.
"What's that boat under my starn?"
"The boat I came off in, my lord."
"Ah, I forgot…. Is that a dead man in the starn-sheets?"
"No, my lord. That's Mr. Joy, who commanded us in the cottage. He used to know you, my lord. Joy, Captain in the Black Borderers."
A wave of colour swept across the other's white cheek. He flashed his eye on Kit.
"Joy!" he cried. "Old Peg-top Timbers! Hi! below there!" He leaned far over. "Joy! Joy of Battle!"