“Kiss me, Hardy,” said Nelson; and Hardy kissed him. “Don’t have my poor carcass hove overboard,” whispered Nelson, as Hardy leant over him. “Get what’s left of me sent to England, if you can manage it. Kiss me, Hardy.”
Hardy kissed him again.
“Who is that?” asked the hero.
“It is I—Hardy.”
“Good-bye. God bless you, Hardy. Thank God, I’ve done my duty.”
Then Hardy left him—for ever.
Nelson was turned on to his right side, muttered the words that he would soon be gone. Then, after a little silence, he sighed and struggled to speak, but all he could say was:
“Thank God, I have done my duty!”
Then Nelson died; and England was the poorer by her greatest sea captain.
Hardy took the news to Collingwood, who assumed command, and refused to carry out Nelson’s instructions to anchor, because the fact that a gale was blowing up would make it unsafe to do so.