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.