MOST UNPLEASANT TIDINGS.
"Hallo!—Keene!—Mr. Jack Keene! At your service, sir."
"Admiral! How do you? I was near giving you the go-by."
"Near running me down, you might say. Like to a three-decker in full sail. You are going indoors? Ay, ay, then I'll wait; I'll come another day. 'Twas in my mind that Mrs. Fairbank might be glad of a word. But since you are here——"
"She will be glad, I can assure you. Pray, sir, come in with me. This is a frightful blow. It was told me as I came off the ground after parade; and I hastened hither at full speed."
"Ay, ay; that did you!" muttered the Admiral. "Seeing nought ahead of you but the Corsican, I'll be bound."
"'Tis a disgrace to his nation," burst out Jack. "Sir, what do you think of the step?"
"Think! The most atrocious—the most abominable piece of work ever heard of. If ever a living man deserved to be strung up at the yard-arm, that man is Napoleon and none other."
"It can never, sure, be carried out."
"Nay, if the Consul choose, what is to hinder?"