"Well, Hardy, how goes the day with us?" asked Nelson, eagerly.
"Very well," was the answer. "Ten ships have struck; but five of the van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the Victory. I have called two or three of our fresh ships around, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing."
"I hope none of our ships have struck," said Nelson.
"There is no fear of that," answered Hardy.
Then came a moment's silence, and 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. Let my dear Lady Hamilton have my hair and all other things belonging to me."
"I hope it is not so bad as that," said Hardy, with much emotion. "Dr. Beatty must yet hold out some hope of life."
"Oh, no, that is impossible," said Nelson. "My back is shot through: Beatty will tell you so."
Captain Hardy grasped his hand again, the tears standing in his eyes, and then hurried on deck to hide the emotion he could scarcely repress.
Life slowly left the frame of the dying hero: every minute he was nearer death. Sensation vanished below his breast. He made the surgeon test and acknowledge this.