"I saw him killed, sir," added young Maurice.
"Who killed?" exclaimed Captain Venour, in astonishment.
"Lord Nelson, sir; right in the height of the battle."
"Good God!" cried Captain Venour. "Nelson gone? He was a reefer under me on the Hinchinbrook. It can't be possible!"
"Yes, sir, it is," replied the young captain.
There was a long pause.
"What next, sir?" asked Captain Venour.
"Well, sir, I swung myself on board the Victory in the action. Captain Hardy recognized me and gave me a gun division whose lieutenant had been killed, and—and that's all. No, sir; here's a paper from Lord Collingwood, who succeeded to the command after Lord Nelson died, recommending me to be appointed post-captain, and—and—that's all, sir. May I have Dorothy now, sir?"
"You may," answered the captain, feebly, utterly overcome by the astonishing recital. "Any man who has commanded a six-million-ton rock and fought at Trafalgar can have anything he wants,—if Dorothy is willing."
Dorothy signified unmistakably that she was willing.