“Well, Hardy,” said Nelson, “how goes the day with us?”
“Very well,” replied Hardy. “Ten ships have struck, but five of their van have tacked, and show an intention of bearing down upon the Victory. I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing.”
“I hope,” said Nelson, “none of our ships struck.”
Hardy answered, “There was no fear of that.”
Then and not till then, Nelson spoke of himself.
“I am a dead man, Hardy,” he said; “I am going fast; it will be all over with me soon. Come nearer to me. My back is shot through. Beatty will tell you so.”
Captain Hardy then once more shook hands with him; and, with a heart almost bursting, hastened upon deck. By this time all feeling below the breast was gone, and Nelson, having made the surgeon ascertain this, said: “You know I am gone. I know it. I feel something rising in my breast”—putting his hand to his left side—“which tells me so.” And upon Beatty’s inquiring whether his pain was very great, he replied, “So great that I wish I was dead. Yet,” said he, in a lower voice, “one would like to live a little longer, too!”
Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, returned; and, again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, congratulated him upon having gained a complete victory. How many of the enemy were taken he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive them distinctly—but fourteen or fifteen of them at least.
“That’s well,” cried Nelson; “but I bargained for twenty.” And then, in a stronger voice, he said, “Anchor, Hardy; anchor.”
Hardy upon this, hinted that Admiral Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs.