Nelson was well aware that his wound was mortal, and at once told the surgeon to attend to the other wounded men, who lay all about the deck and crowded cock-pit, 'for,' said he, 'you can do nothing for me.'
The life-blood was in fact fast ebbing away, and all that could be done for the dying hero was to fan him with paper, and to give him lemonade to alleviate the great thirst that always follows gun-shot wounds.
Meanwhile, the battle raged fiercely, and even in his dying agonies Nelson's eyes would gleam with joy when he heard the cheers of his men as often as an enemy's ship struck.
He now became very anxious to see Captain Hardy, but it was an hour or more before Hardy was able to leave the quarter-deck, and hasten to Nelson's side. He was so affected that he could only silently shake the Admiral's hand.
'Hardy,' said Nelson, 'how goes the day?'
'Very well,' replied Hardy. 'Ten ships have struck, and I have no doubt of giving them a drubbing.'
'I hope,' said Nelson, 'none of our ships have struck?'
'No fear of that,' answered Hardy. He had now to go again on deck, but in an hour's time returned to the cock-pit, and congratulated the dying commander on having gained a complete victory, fourteen or fifteen of the enemy being taken, perhaps more, but in the confusion of the battle it was impossible to be quite accurate.
'That's well!' said Nelson, 'but I bargained for twenty!'
Then a few minutes later he said in a low voice, 'Don't throw me overboard,' and then feeling life to be all but gone, he said, 'Kiss me, Hardy.'