"You're right," he said at last, the light breaking about his face. "I am England's David. It is for me to slay Goliath. Sinner as I am, He has chosen me to do this work for Him, and I will do it. Yes, I will do it."

He turned to the port and gazed out.

To the Parson it seemed an hour before he turned again.

The nightmare madness had pa.s.sed. His face was altogether changed. It was that of a child who wakes from sleep in a panic. There was a startled little smile about it.

"Harry," he said in shy waking voice, "have I been dreaming?--or have I been talking a lot of nonsense?"

The Parson, for all his simplicity, was something of a man of the world.

"Why," he cried heartily, "you've been standing with your back to me, mumbling and grumbling, and being d.a.m.ned rude."

Nelson laughed.

Was the Parson wrong?--or was there in that laugh a note of almost hysterical relief?

"I'll make it up to you, Harry. I'll make it up to you, my boy." He thrust his hand into his bosom, and produced a miniature. "Look here!" in reverent voice--"my Guardian Angel."

CHAPTER LXXIX

IN THE CABIN AGAIN

Kit was in the gun-room, the centre of a group of rosy-faced lads, eagerly questioning.

He could not eat; he could not answer.

"Caryll, the Admiral wants you."

The boy rose and went, trembling.

In the door of the cabin stood the Parson, his blue eyes very kind.

He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and drew him in.

"Lord Nelson," he said, "I believe this is the most gallant lad in either Service."

The great captain came towards him. The boy saw him through a mist.

"Kit," said Nelson, with that wonderful smile of his--"I may call you Kit? Your father was always Kit to me--will you shake the hand of a brother-officer, who's proud to call himself such?" He added, gazing into the boy's eyes--"Your father was my friend. I hope his son will be."

Kit's heart surged. His knees began to give. He felt himself fading away.

Then the arm that was wont to encircle another waist was round his. His head sank where another head, beloved of Romney, often cushioned.

He began to whimper.

They supported him to a chair, the white head and the curly dark one mingling over his. And no woman could have been more tender than those two men of war, each in his own way so great.

"That's all right, my boy," said the Parson, "my dear boy. Don't be afraid to cry. All men cry--only we don't let the ladies know it."

"We won't tell the midshipmen," murmured Nelson at the other ear. "I'm safe--I weep myself sometimes in confidence. You must just think of me as of a father."

"Paws off, if you please, my lord," replied the Parson. "I'm his adopted father and mother and all; aren't I, Kit?--old friends first, you know."

"Well," gasped Kit between sobs and laughter, "you see I've got a mother, thank you."

"Have you?" cried Nelson, rising from his knees. "Is she like mine, I wonder? If so, I love her already. But there! I love her for her son's sake. And I'm going to write to her to tell her she has a son she can be proud of."

He sat down at his desk.

"Ah, what would England be without her mothers?" he said, taking up a pen.

The quill pen ceased to squeak.

Nelson thumped the letter with characteristic zeal, rose and gave it to the boy.

Kit pocketed it, his eyes looking thanks through tears.

"Your father'd be proud of you," said Nelson. "He was a true seaman--as his son will be."

"He's thinking of turning soldier, ain't you, Kit?" cut in the Parson.

"He's like me--got no use for the sea except as an emetic."

"No, no," said Nelson, smiling. "The Navy claims her cubs."

"Well, well," replied the other, "I won't dispute the point. But like another young seaman I used to know perhaps some day he'll rise to be Colonel of Marines, and win great victories at sea as the result of what we've taught him on land."

"Soldier and sailor too, eh?" said Nelson, and added in a stage-whisper to Kit--"He can never quite forgive us being the Senior Service."

A clock struck two.

"Come, Kit," said the Parson. "What d'you say? Shouldn't we be getting back?"

"I'm ready, sir."

"What!" cried Nelson. "You're never going back?"

"The soldier is," said the Parson. "The sailor can speak for himself. In _my_ Service a job half done is a job not done. _We_ like to see things through.... Besides, there's Knapp, and old Piper."

"Ah, yes," said Nelson gravely. "I was forgetting. Dear old Piper!"