“And yet they would have it that I am doing nothing, trifling away my time with Emma, because they knew what hosts Sir William and she were at Naples, what fêtes and water-fêtes and banquets and balls and expeditions to see antiquities they provided for us in one unending stream. They should understand that there is nothing of this here; that the Hamiltons are themselves but strangers in the place, and that I am a prisoner to my secretary, while the whole fate of the Mediterranean hangs on me. I cannot tell how I should get through it all if it were not for my good Emma, who is always equable, always cheerful, and has such a soothing touch when I am worn out, body and mind. Though, if I had had such a wife ... but what if I had?—it would have been ‘the uxorious Admiral Nelson.’ With the fault-finding Troubridge, my friend Troubridge, it would have been, ‘What does Lord Nelson want with his wife out here, when every minute may mean action?’ There is no pleasing these people.
“The dear good Emma is invaluable to me: she and dear Sir William make a home for me, to which I can creep and hide when I am done to death with worries. She will deny me to people when they come to tell me the same tale—it is always the same tale—that the Emperor, Acton, the Russians, Sir Sidney Smith, the Bey, the Grand Signor, they are all of them doing nothing or worse than nothing, and Ball is helpless without even food from Sicily for the Maltese. Why should I have to listen to them every hour of the day? The Grand Signor is the best of them, and he is a mule ridden by those crafty Russians, who are playing the deep game.
“Is it to be wondered at that I sometimes try and escape from all this? My ships are ready to sail at an hour’s notice, and I have written and written to Mr. Duckworth to get him to quit Minorca, which leads to nothing, and come to me, where there is a kingdom and the fate of our fleet hanging in the balance. And yet they chide me because I try and keep from breaking down by letting Emma nurse my strength.
“I am miserably ill; we have none of us been well since we came here. Perhaps the drainage washes back to the Marina, for Palermo has a good repute. It would do me good if I could see my ship from this window. I could see it from the de Gregorio Palace, which I have taken and use for a fleet office; but I am so lonely there—two miles from my good friends. However, I think I must go there in times like these. I am miserable without I see my ship.
“I broke off because I felt a hand upon my shoulder, the hand that sends new blood through my wasted body, which puts new heart into me; and, as I felt it, the very Bay took on a new spirit. It was no longer a waste, but had collected within its arms the deep peace of the Southern night; and the moon shining down on Pellegrino changed it till it looked like a crown, the crown on whose summit the father of Hannibal defied the might of Rome those three long years.
“‘What, Nelson,’ said that clear voice, ‘are you too going to leave me? It is I who shall be lonely, for there is word from Sir William that he must be at the Palace to tell Acton nothing. The great Queen will not herself see Acton, or suffer me to see him: he is all for the King.’
“With that she began to weep very quietly—so quietly that I did not know till a tear dropped on my hand. I sought to comfort her, and we stood there I do not know how long.
“‘I would to God,’ I cried, ‘that the French would come upon us: none of my ships would surrender, and if they destroyed us all with their three to one, we should so wing them that St. Vincent would catch them and finish them, and then it would be all over for me, this worry.’
“Her arms wound round me; I could feel her soothing lips; but she said nothing.