There were, unfortunately, a great number of names to go on it—Montague, Clegg, Bigge, Pearson, the 'Forlorn Hope' and his chum the 'Shadow' (whose name was put there because he died as a result of the fight), Barton, the 'Angel,' Marchant (the Inkslinger), the cheery, good-tempered, little Captain's Clerk, and below these the names of fifty-four men—several had died of their wounds at Princes' Town Colonial Hospital.
Cousin Bob still moped and slept badly, often waking the whole of the gun-room flat by shrieking in his sleep, so that I worried very much about him. I told the Captain.
'Well, boy! What d'you want me to do? The Fleet Surgeon has been speaking about him too.'
'I think it would be best to send him home for as long as you can, sir,' I said.
'Right oh, lad! Tell him to leave his address and I'll wire for him when I want him. Have a bit of lunch?'
I stayed to lunch with him, and we talked about Gerald.
'Grand chap! grand chap! a little too haughty for me. Grand chap though—never thanked me for taking him that hydraulic machinery.'
'But he never thought you knew about it, sir,' I said, surprised.
He polished his eyeglass very carefully, screwed it into his eye, and then very deliberately winked at me.
I shipped Cousin Bob off home that very day and was jolly glad to get him away from the ship, although, as a matter of fact, I need not have been in such a hurry, because all the mids. were sent to other ships a few days later. Still he managed to get a little longer leave than the others, and I had a very grateful letter from his sister Daisy.