The Two Admirals

  CHAPTER XXX.

  "Compound or weakness and of strength, Mighty, yet ignorant of thy power! Loftier than earth, or air, or sea, Yet meaner than the lowliest flower!

  MARGARET DAVIDSON.

  Not a syllable of explanation, reproach, or self-accusation had passedbetween the commander-in-chief and the rear-admiral, since the latterreceived his wound. Each party appeared to blot out the events of thelast few days, leaving the long vista of their past services andfriendship, undisfigured by a single unsightly or unpleasant object. SirGervaise, while he retained an active superintendence of his fleet, andissued the necessary orders right and left, hovered around the bed ofBluewater with the assiduity and almost with the tenderness of a woman;still not the slightest allusion was made to the recent battles, or toany thing that had occurred in the short cruise. The speech recorded atthe close of the last chapter, was the first words he had uttered whichmight, in any manner, carry the mind of either back to events that bothmight wish forgotten. The rear-admiral felt this forbearance deeply, andnow that the subject was thus accidentally broached between them, he hada desire to say something in continuation. Still he waited until thebaronet had left the window and taken a seat by his bed.

  "Gervaise," Bluewater then commenced, speaking low from weakness, butspeaking distinctly from feeling, "I cannot die without asking yourforgiveness. There were several hours when I actually meditatedtreason--I will not say to my _king_; on that point my opinions areunchanged--but to _you_."

  "Why speak of this, Dick? You did not know yourself when you believed itpossible to desert me in the face of the enemy. How much better I judgedof your character, is seen in the fact that I did not hesitate to engagedouble my force, well knowing that you could not fail to come to myrescue."

  Bluewater looked intently at his friend, and a smile of serioussatisfaction passed over his pallid countenance as he listened to SirGervaise's words, which were uttered with his usual warmth and sincerityof manner.

  "I believe you know me better than I know myself," he answered, after athoughtful pause; "yes, better than I know myself. What a glorious closeto our professional career would it have been, Oakes, had I followed youinto battle, as was our old practice, and fallen in your wake, imitatingyour own high example!"

  "It is better as it is, Dick--if any thing that has so sad a terminationcan be well--yes, it is better as it is; you have fallen at my _side_,as it were. We will think or talk no more of this."

  "We have been friends, and close friends too, for a long period,Gervaise," returned Bluewater, stretching his arm from the bed, with thelong, thin fingers of the hand extended to meet the other's grasp; "yet,I cannot recall an act of yours which I can justly lay to heart, asunkind, or untrue."

  "God forgive me, if you can--I hope not, Dick; most sincerely do I hopenot. It would give me great pain to believe it."

  "_You_ have no cause for self-reproach. In no one act or thought can youjustly accuse yourself with injuring _me_. I should die much happiercould I say the same of myself, Oakes!"

  "Thought!--Dick?--Thought! You never meditated aught against _me_ inyour whole life. The love you bear _me_, is the true reason why you liethere, at this blessed moment."

  "It is grateful to find that I have been understood. I am deeplyindebted to you, Oakes, for declining to signal me and my division down,when I foolishly requested that untimely forbearance. I was thensuffering an anguish of mind, to which any pain of the body I may nowendure, is an elysium; your self-denial gave time--"

  "For the _heart_ to prompt you to that which your feelings yearned to dofrom the first, Bluewater," interrupted Sir Gervaise. "And, now, as yourcommanding officer, I enjoin silence on this subject, _for ever_."

  "I will endeavour to obey. It will not be long, Oakes, that I shallremain under your orders," added the rear-admiral, with a painful smile."There should be no charge of mutiny against me in the _last_ act of mylife. You ought to forgive the one sin of omission, when you rememberhow much and how completely my will has been subject to yours, duringthe last five-and-thirty years,--how little my mind has matured aprofessional thought that yours has not originated!"

  "Speak no more of 'forgive,' I charge you, Dick. That you have shown agirl-like docility in obeying all my orders, too, is a truth I will averbefore God and man; but when it comes to _mind_, I am far from assertingthat mine has had the mastery. I do believe, could the truth heascertained, it would be found that I am, at this blessed moment,enjoying a professional reputation, which is more than half due to you."

  "It matters little, now, Gervaise--it matters little, now. We were twolight-hearted and gay lads, Oakes, when we first met as boys, fresh fromschool, and merry as health and spirits could make us."

  "We were, indeed, Dick!--yes, we were; thoughtless as if this sad momentwere never to arrive!"

  "There were George Anson, and Peter Warren, little Charley Saunders,Jack Byng, and a set of us, that did, indeed, live as if we were neverto die! We carried our lives, as it might be, in our hands, Oakes!"

  "There is much of that, Dick, in boyhood and youth. But, he is happiest,after all, who can meet this moment as you do--calmly, and yet withoutany dependence on his own merits."

  "I had an excellent mother, Oakes! Little do we think, in youth, howmuch we owe to the unextinguishable tenderness, and far-seeing lessonsof our mothers! Ours both died while we were young, yet I do think wewere their debtors for far more than we could ever repay."

  Sir Gervaise simply assented, but making no immediate answer, otherwise,a long pause succeeded, during which the vice-admiral fancied that hisfriend was beginning to doze. He was mistaken.

  "You will be made Viscount Bowldero, for these last affairs, Gervaise,"the wounded man unexpectedly observed, showing how much his thoughtswere still engrossed with the interests of his friend. "Nor do I see whyyou should again refuse a peerage. Those who remain in this world, maywell yield to its usages and opinions, while they do not interfere withhigher obligations."

  "I!"--exclaimed Sir Gervaise, gloomily. "The thought of so commemoratingwhat has happened, would be worse than defeat to me! No--I ask no changeof name to remind me constantly of my loss!"

  Bluewater looked grateful, rather than pleased; but he made no answer.Now, he fell into a light slumber, from which he did not awake until thetime he had himself set for the marriage of Wycherly and Mildred. Withone uncle dead and still unburied, and another about to quit the worldfor ever, a rite that is usually deemed as joyous as it is solemn, mightseem unseasonable; but the dying man had made it a request that he mighthave the consolation of knowing ere he expired, that he left his nieceunder the legal protection of one as competent, as he was desirous ofprotecting her. The reader must imagine the arguments that were used forthe occasion, but they were such as disposed all, in the end, to admitthe propriety of yielding their ordinary prejudices to the exigencies ofthe moment. It may be well to add, also, to prevent useless cavilling,that the laws of England were not as rigid on the subject of thecelebration of marriages in 1745, as they subsequently became; and thatit was lawful then to perform the ceremony in a private house without alicense, and without the publishing of banns, even; restrictions thatwere imposed a few years later. The penalty for dispensing with thepublication of banns, was a fine of L100, imposed on the clergyman; andthis fine Bluewater chose to pay, rather than leave the only greatobject of life that now remained before him unaccomplished. This penaltyin no degree impaired the validity of the contract, though Mrs. Dutton,as a woman, felt averse to parting with her beloved, without a rigidobservance of all the customary forms. The point had finally beendisposed of, by recourse to arguments addressed to the reason of thisrespectable woman, and by urging the necessity of the case. Her consent,however, was not given without a proviso, that a license should besubsequently procured, and a second marriage be had at a more fittingmoment, should the ecclesiastical authorities consent to the same; amost improbable thing in itself.

  Mr. Rotherham av
ailed himself of the statute inflicting the penalty, asan excuse for not officiating. His real motive, however, was understood,and the chaplain of the Plantagenet, a divine of character and piety,was substituted in his place. Bluewater had requested that as many ofthe captains of the fleet should be present as could be collected, andit was the assembling of these warriors of the deep, together with thearrival of the clergyman, that first gave notice of the approach of theappointed hour.

  It is not our intention to dwell on the details of a ceremony that hadso much that was painful in its solemnities. Neither Wycherly norMildred made any change in their attire, and the lovely bride wept fromthe time the service began, to the moment when she left the arms of heruncle, to be received in those of her husband, and was supported fromthe room. All seemed sad, indeed, but Bluewater; to him the scene wasexciting, but it brought great relief to his mind.

  "I am now ready to die, gentlemen," he said, as the door closed on thenew-married couple. "My last worldly care is disposed of, and it werebetter for me to turn all my thoughts to another state of being. Myniece, Lady Wychecombe, will inherit the little I have to leave; nor doI know that it is of much importance to substantiate her birth, as heruncle clearly bestowed what would have been her mother's property, onher aunt, the duchess. If my dying declaration can be of any use,however, you hear it, and can testify to it. Now, come and take leave ofme, one by one, that I may bless you all, and thank you for muchundeserved, and, I fear, unrequited love."

  The scene that followed was solemn and sad. One by one, the captainsdrew near the bed, and to each the dying man had something kind andaffectionate to say. Even the most cold-hearted looked grave, andO'Neil, a man remarkable for a _gaite de c[oe]ur_ that rendered theexcitement of battle some of the pleasantest moments of his life,literally shed tears on the hand he kissed.

  "Ah! my old friend," said the rear-admiral, as Parker, of the Carnatic,drew near in his customary meek and subdued manner, "you perceive it isnot years alone that bring us to our graves! They tell me you havebehaved as usual in these late affairs; I trust that, after a long lifeof patient and arduous services, you are about to receive a properreward."

  "I will acknowledge, Admiral Bluewater," returned Parker, earnestly,"that it would be peculiarly grateful to receive some mark of theapprobation of my sovereign; principally on account of my dear wife andchildren. We are not, like yourself, descended from a noble family; butmust carve our rights to distinction, and they who have never knownhonours of this nature, prize them highly."

  "Ay, my good Parker," interrupted the rear-admiral, "and they who haveever known them, know their emptiness; most especially as they approachthat verge of existence whence the eye looks in a near and fearfulglance, over the vast and unknown range of eternity."

  "No doubt, sir; nor am I so vain as to suppose that hairs which have gotto be grey as mine, can last for ever. But, what I was about to say is,that precious as honours are to the humble, I would cheerfully yieldevery hope of the sort I have, to see you on the poop of the Caesaragain, with Mr. Cornet at your elbow, leading the fleet, or followingthe motions of the vice-admiral."

  "Thank you, my good Parker; that can never be; nor can I say, now, thatI wish it might. When we have cast off from the world, there is lesspleasure in looking back, than in looking ahead. God bless you, Parker,and keep you, as you ever have been, an honest man."

  Stowel was the last to approach the bed, nor did he do it until all hadleft the room but Sir Gervaise and himself.

  The indomitable good-nature, and the professional nonchalance ofBluewater, by leaving every subordinate undisturbed in the enjoyment ofhis own personal caprices, had rendered the rear-admiral a greaterfavourite, in one sense at least, than the commander-in-chief. Stowel,by his near connection with Bluewater, had profited more by thesepeculiarities than any other officer under him, and the effect on hisfeelings had been in a very just proportion to the benefits. He couldnot refrain, it is true, from remembering the day when he himself hadbeen a lieutenant in the ship in which the rear-admiral had been amidshipman, but he no longer recollected the circumstance with thebitterness that it sometimes drew after it. On the contrary, it was nowbrought to his mind merely as the most distant of the many land-marks intheir long and joint services.

  "Well, Stowel," observed Bluewater, smiling sadly, "even the old Caesarmust be left behind. It is seldom a flag-captain has not someheart-burnings on account of his superior, and most sincerely do I begyou to forget and forgive any I may have occasioned yourself."

  "Heaven help me, sir!--I was far, just then, from thinking of any suchthing! I was fancying how little I should have thought it probable, whenwe were together in the Calypso, that I should ever be thus standing at_your_ bed-side. Really, Admiral Bluewater, I would rejoice to sharewith you the remnant of life that is left me."

  "I do believe you would, Stowel; but that can never be. I have justperformed my last act in this world, in giving my niece to Sir WycherlyWychecombe."

  "Yes, sir;--yes, sir--marriage is no doubt honourable, as I often tellMrs. Stowel, and therefore not to be despised; and yet it _is_ singular,that a gentleman who has lived a bachelor himself, should fancy to see amarriage ceremony performed, and that, too, at the cost of L100, if anyperson choose to complain, just at the close of his own cruise! However,men are no more alike in such matters, than women in their domesticqualities; and I sincerely hope this young Sir Wycherly may find as muchcomfort, in the old house I understand he has a little inland here, asyou and I have had together, sir, in the old Caesar. I suppose there'llbe no co-equals in Wychecombe Hall."

  "I trust not, Stowel. But you must now receive my last orders, as to theCaesar--"

  "The commander-in-chief has his own flag flying aboard of us, sir!"interrupted the methodical captain, in a sort of admonitory way.

  "Never mind that, Stowel;--I'll answer for his acquiescence. My bodymust be received on board, and carried round in the ship to Plymouth.Place it on the main-deck, where the people can see the coffin; I wouldpass my last hours above ground, in their midst."

  "It shall be done, sir--yes, sir, to the letter, Sir Gervaise notcountermanding. And I'll write this evening to Mrs. Stowel to say sheneedn't come down, as usual, as soon as she hears the ship is in, butthat she must wait until your flag is fairly struck."

  "I should be sorry, Stowel, to cause a moment's delay in the meeting ofhusband and wife!"

  "Don't name it, Admiral Bluewater;--Mrs. Stowel will understand thatit's duty; and when we married, I fully explained to her that duty, witha sailor, came before matrimony."

  A little pause succeeded, then Bluewater took a final and affectionateleave of his captain. Some twenty minutes elapsed in a profound silence,during which Sir Gervaise did not stir, fancying that his friend againdozed. But it was ordered that Bluewater was never to sleep again, untilhe took the final rest of the dead. It was the mind, which had alwaysblazed above the duller lethargy of his body, that buoyed him thus up,giving an unnatural impulse to his physical powers; an impulse, however,that was but momentary, and which, by means of the reaction,contributed, in the end, to his more speedy dissolution. Perceiving, atlength, that his friend did not sleep, Sir Gervaise drew near his bed.

  "Richard," he said, gently, "there is one without, who pines to beadmitted. I have refused even his tears, under the impression that youfelt disposed to sleep."

  "Never less so. My mind appears to become brighter and clearer, insteadof fading; I think I shall never sleep, in the sense you mean. Whoeverthe person is, let him be admitted."

  Receiving this permission, Sir Gervaise opened the door, and GeoffreyCleveland entered. At the same moment, Galleygo, who came and went atpleasure, thrust in his own ungainly form. The boy's face betrayed thenature and the extent of his grief. In his mind, Admiral Bluewater wasassociated with all the events of his own professional life; and, thoughthe period had in truth been so short, in his brief existence, the vistathrough which he looked back, seemed quite as long as that which markedt
he friendship of the two admirals, themselves. Although he struggledmanfully for self-control, feeling got the better of the lad, and hethrew himself on his knees, at the side of his bed, sobbing as if hisheart would break. Bluewater's eye glistened, and he laid a handaffectionately on the head of his young relative.

  "Gervaise, you will take charge of this boy, when I'm gone," he said;"receive him in your own ship. I leave him to you, as a very near anddear professional legacy. Cheer up--cheer up--my brave boy; look uponall this as a sailor's fortune. Our lives are the--"

  The word "king's," which should have succeeded, seemed to choke thespeaker. Casting a glance of meaning at his friend, with a painful smileon his face, he continued silent.

  "Ah! dear sir," answered the midshipman, ingenuously; "I knew that _we_might all be killed, but it never occurred to me that an admiral couldlose his life in battle. I'm sure--I'm sure you are the very first thathas met with this accident!"

  "Not by many, my poor Geoffrey. As there are but few admirals, few fall;but we are as much exposed as others."

  "If I had only run that Monsieur des Prez through the body, when weclosed with him," returned the boy, grating his teeth, and looking allthe vengeance for which, at the passing instant, he felt the desire; "itwould have been _something_! I might have done it, too, for he was quiteunguarded!"

  "It would have been a very bad _thing_, boy, to have injured a braveman, uselessly."

  "Of what use was it to shoot you, sir? We took their ship, just the sameas if you had not been hurt."

  "I rather think, Geoffrey, their ship was virtually taken before I waswounded," returned Bluewater, smiling. "But I was shot by a Frenchmarine, who did no more than his duty."

  "Yes, sir," exclaimed the boy, impatiently; "and _he_ escaped without ascratch. _He_, at least, ought to have been _massacred_."

  "Thou art bloody-minded, child; I scarce know thee. _Massacred_ is not aword for either a British nobleman or a British sailor. I saved the lifeof that marine; and, when you come to lie, like me, on your death-bed,Geoffrey, you will learn how sweet a consolation can be derived from theconsciousness of such an act; we all need mercy, and none ought toexpect it, for themselves, who do not yield it to others."

  The boy was rebuked, and his feelings took a better, though scarcely amore natural direction. Bluewater now spoke to him of hisnewly-discovered cousin, and had a melancholy satisfaction in creatingan interest in behalf of Mildred, in the breast of the noble-hearted andingenuous boy. The latter listened with respectful attention, as hadbeen his wont, until, deceived by the tranquil and benevolent manner ofBluewater, he permitted himself to fall into the natural delusion ofbelieving the wound of the rear-admiral less serious than he hadsupposed, and to begin to entertain hopes that the wounded man might yetsurvive. Calmed by these feelings, he soon ceased to weep; and,promising discretion, was permitted by Sir Gervaise to remain in theroom, where he busied himself in the offices of a nurse.

  Another long pause succeeded this exciting little scene, during whichBluewater lay quietly communing with himself and his God. Sir Gervaisewrote orders, and read reports, though his eye was never off thecountenance of his friend more than a minute or two at a time. Atlength, the rear-admiral aroused himself, again, and began to take aninterest once more, in the persons and things around him.

  "Galleygo, my old fellow-cruiser," he said, "I leave Sir Gervaise moreparticularly in your care. As we advance in life, our friends decreasein numbers; it is only those that have been well tried that we can relyon."

  "Yes, Admiral Blue, I knows that, and so does Sir Jarvy. Yes, oldshipmates afore young 'uns, any day, and old sailors, too, afore greenhands. Sir Jarvy's Bowlderos are good plate-holders, and the likes ofthat; but when it comes to heavy weather, and a hard strain, I thinksbut little on 'em, all put together."

  "By the way, Oakes," said Bluewater, with a sudden interest in such asubject, that he never expected to feel again, "I have heard nothing ofthe first day's work, in which, through the little I have gleaned, bylistening to those around me, I understand you took a two-decker,besides dismasting the French admiral?"

  "Pardon me, Dick; you had better try and catch a little sleep; thesubject of those two days' work is really painful to me."

  "Well, then, Sir Jarvy, if you has an avarsion to telling the story toAdmiral Blue, I can do it, your honour," put in Galleygo, who gloried ingiving a graphic description of a sea-fight. "I thinks, now, a historyof that day will comfort a flag-hofficer as has been so badly woundedhimself."

  Bluewater offering no opposition, Galleygo proceeded with his account ofthe evolutions of the ships, as we have already described them,succeeding surprisingly well in rendering the narrative interesting, andmaking himself perfectly intelligible and clear, by his thoroughknowledge, and ready use, of the necessary nautical terms. When he cameto the moment in which the English line separated, part passing towindward, and part to leeward of the two French ships, he related theincident in so clear and spirited a manner, that the commander-in-chiefhimself dropped his pen, and sat listening with pleasure.

  "Who could imagine, Dick," Sir Gervaise observed, "that those fellows inthe tops watch us so closely, and could give so accurate an account ofwhat passes!"

  "Ah! Gervaise, and what is the vigilance of Galleygo to that of theAll-seeing eye! It is a terrible thought, at an hour like this, toremember that nothing can be forgotten. I have somewhere read that notan oath is uttered that does not continue to vibrate through all time,in the wide-spreading currents of sound--not a prayer lisped, that itsrecord is not also to be found stamped on the laws of nature, by theindelible seal of the Almighty's will!"

  There was little in common between the religious impressions of the twofriends. They were both sailors, and though the word does notnecessarily imply that they were sinners in an unusual degree, neitherdoes it rigidly imply that they were saints. Each had received the usualelementary education, and then each had been turned adrift, as it mightbe on the ocean of life, to suffer the seed to take root, and the fruitto ripen as best they might. Few of those "who go down to the great deepin ships," and who escape the more brutalizing effects of lives so rude,are altogether without religious impressions. Living so much, as itwere, in the immediate presence of the power of God, the sailor is muchdisposed to reverence his omnipotence, even while he transgresses hislaws; but in nearly all those instances in which nature has implanted atemperament inclining to deep feeling, as was the case with Bluewater,not even the harsh examples, nor the loose or irresponsible lives of menthus separated from the customary ties of society, can wholly extinguishthe reverence for God which is created by constantly dwelling in thepresence of his earthly magnificence. This sentiment in Bluewater hadnot been altogether without fruits, for he both read and reflected much.Sometimes, though at isolated and distant intervals, he even prayed; andthat fervently, and with a strong and full sense of his own demerits. Asa consequence of this general disposition, and of the passingconvictions, his mind was better attuned for the crisis before him, thanwould have been the case with most of his brethren in arms, who, whenovertaken with the fate so common to the profession, are usually left tosustain their last moments with the lingering enthusiasm of strife andvictory.

  On the other hand, Sir Gervaise was as simple as a child in matters ofthis sort. He had a reverence for his Creator, and such general notionsof his goodness and love, as the well-disposed are apt to feel; but allthe dogmas concerning the lost condition of the human race, themediation, and the power of faith, floated in his mind as opinions notto be controverted, and yet as scarcely to be felt. In short, thecommander-in-chief admitted the practical heresy, which overshadows thefaith of millions, while he deemed himself to be a stout advocate ofchurch and king. Still, Sir Gervaise Oakes, on occasions, was more thanusually disposed to seriousness, and was even inclined to be devout; butit was without much regard to theories or revelation. At such moments,while his opinions would not properly admit him within the pale of anyChristian church, in particu
lar, his feelings might have identified himwith all. In a word, we apprehend he was a tolerably fair example ofwhat vague generalities, when acting on a temperament not indisposed tomoral impressions, render the great majority of men; who flit around themysteries of a future state, without alighting either on theconsolations of faith, or discovering any of those logical conclusionswhich, half the time unconsciously to themselves, they seem to expect.When Bluewater made his last remark, therefore, the vice-admiral lookedanxiously at his friend; and religion for the first time since the otherreceived his hurt, mingled with his reflections. He had devoutly, thoughmentally, returned thanks to God for his victory, but it had neveroccurred to him that Bluewater might need some preparation for death.

  "Would you like to see the Plantagenet's chaplain, again, Dick?" hesaid, tenderly; "you are no _Papist_; of _that_ I am certain."

  "In that you are quite right, Gervaise. I consider all churches--_the_one holy _Catholic_ church, if you will, as but a means furnished bydivine benevolence to aid weak men in their pilgrimage; but I alsobelieve that there is even a shorter way to his forgiveness than throughthese common avenues. How far I am right," he added, smiling, "none willprobably know better than myself, a few hours hence."

  "Friends _must_ meet again, hereafter, Bluewater; it is irrational tosuppose that they who have loved each other so well in this state ofbeing, are to be for ever separated in the other."

  "We will hope so, Oakes," taking the vice-admiral's hand; "we will hopeso. Still, there will be no ships for us--no cruises--no victories--notriumphs! It is only at moments like this, at which I have arrived, thatwe come to view these things in their proper light. Of all the past,your constant, unwavering friendship, gives me the most pleasure!"

  The vice-admiral could resist no longer. He turned aside and wept. Thistribute to nature, in one so manly, was imposing even to the dying man,and Galleygo regarded it with awe. Familiar as the latter had becomewith his master, by use and indulgence, no living being, in hisestimation, was as authoritative or as formidable as thecommander-in-chief; and the effect of the present spectacle, was toinduce him to hide his own face in self-abasement. Bluewater saw it all,but he neither spoke, nor gave any token of his observation. He merelyprayed, and that right fervently, not only for his friend, but for hishumble and uncouth follower.

  A reaction took place in the system of the wounded man, about nineo'clock that night. At this time he believed himself near his end, andhe sent for Wycherly and his niece, to take his leave of them. Mrs.Dutton was also present, as was Magrath, who remained on shore, inattendance. Mildred lay for half an hour, bathing her uncle's pillowwith her tears, until she was removed at the surgeon's suggestion.

  "Ye'll see, Sir Gervaise," he whispered--(or "Sir Jairvis," as he alwayspronounced the name,)--"ye'll see, Sir Jairvis, that it's a duty of thefaculty to _prolong_ life, even when there's no hope of _saving_ it; andif ye'll be regairding the judgment of a professional man, LadyWychecombe had better withdraw. It would really be a matter of honestexultation for us Plantagenets to get the rear-admiral through thenight, seeing that the surgeon of the Caesar said he could no survive thesetting sun."

  At the moment of final separation, Bluewater had little to say to hisniece. Ho kissed and blessed her again and again, and then signed thatshe should be taken away. Mrs. Dutton, also, came in for a full share ofhis notice, he having desired her to remain after Wycherly and Mildredhad quitted the room.

  "To your care and affection, excellent woman," he said, in a voice thathad now sunk nearly to a whisper--"we owe it, that Mildred is not unfitfor her station. Her recovery would have been even more painful than herloss, had she been restored to her proper family, uneducated, vulgar,and coarse."

  "That could hardly have happened to Mildred, sir, in any circumstances,"answered the weeping woman. "Nature has done too much for the dearchild, to render her any thing but delicate and lovely, under anytolerable circumstances of depression."

  "She is better as she is, and God be thanked that he raised up such aprotector for her childhood. You have been all in all to her in herinfancy, and she will strive to repay it to your age."

  Of this Mrs. Dutton felt too confident to need assurances; and receivingthe dying man's blessing, she knelt at his bed-side, prayed ferventlyfor a few minutes, and withdrew. After this, nothing out of the ordinarytrack occurred until past midnight, and Magrath, more than once,whispered his joyful anticipations that the rear-admiral would surviveuntil morning. An hour before day, however, the wounded man revived, ina way that the surgeon distrusted. He knew that no physical change ofthis sort could well happen that did not arise from the momentaryascendency of mind over matter, as the spirit is on the point of finallyabandoning its earthly tenement; a circumstance of no unusual occurrencein patients of strong and active intellectual properties, whosefaculties often brighten for an instant, in their last moments, as thelamp flashes and glares as it is about to become extinct. Going to thebed, he examined his patient attentively, and was satisfied that thefinal moment was near.

  "You're a man and a soldier, Sir Jairvis," he said, in a low voice, "andit'll no be doing good to attempt misleading your judgment in a case ofthis sort. Our respectable friend, the rear-admiral, is _articulomortis_, as one might almost say; he cannot possibly survive half anhour."

  Sir Gervaise started. He looked around him a little wistfully; for, atthat moment, he would have given much to be alone with his dying friend.But he hesitated to make a request, which, it struck him, might seemimproper. From this embarrassment, however, he was relieved byBluewater, himself, who had the same desire, without the same scruplesabout confessing it. _He_ drew the surgeon to his side, and whispered awish to be left alone with the commander-in-chief.

  "Well, there will be no trespass on the rules of practice in indulgingthe poor man in his desire," muttered Magrath, as he looked about him togather the last of his professional instruments, like the workman who isabout to quit one place of toil to repair to another; "and I'll just beindulging him."

  So saying, he pushed Galleygo and Geoffrey from the room before him,left it himself, and closed the door.

  Finding himself alone, Sir Gervaise knelt at the side of the bed andprayed, holding the hand of his friend in both his own. The example ofMrs. Dutton, and the yearnings of his own heart, exacted this sacrifice;when it was over he felt a great relief from sensations that nearlychoked him.

  "Do you forgive me, Gervaise?" whispered Bluewater.

  "Name it not--name it not, my best friend. We all have our moments ofweakness, and our need of pardon. May God forget all _my_ sins, asfreely as I forget your errors!"

  "God bless you, Oakes, and keep you the same simple-minded, true-heartedman, you have ever been."

  Sir Gervaise buried his face in the bed-clothes, and groaned.

  "Kiss me, Oakes," murmured the rear-admiral.

  In order to do this, the commander-in-chief rose from his knees and bentover the body of his friend. As he raised himself from the cheek he hadsaluted, a benignant smile gleamed on the face of the dying man, and heceased to breathe. Near half a minute followed, however, before the lastand most significant breath that is ever drawn from man, was given. Theremainder of that night Sir Gervaise Oakes passed in the chamber alone,pacing the floor, recalling the many scenes of pleasure, danger, pain,and triumph, through which he and the dead had passed in company. Withthe return of light, he summoned the attendants, and retired to histent.