The Gentleman. Alfred Ollivant
XXXI. THE MAN WITH THE SWORD
XXXII. THE BROKEN SQUARE
XXXIII. FIGHTING FITZ
XXXIV. THE FACE ON THE WALL
IV THE GARRISON
XXXV. THE SOLDIER'S MOTHER
XXXVI. THE FIGHTING MAN
XXXVII. THE SAINT
XXXVIII. THE SIMPLETON
XXXIX. THE FLAP OF A FLAG.
V THE BOARDING OF THE PRIVATEER
XL. THE SWIM IN THE DARK
XLI. PIGGY, THE PRIVATEERSMAN
XLII. THE MAN IN THE BOAT
XLIII. A BLACK BORDERER TO THE RESCUE
BOOK III FORT FLINT
I BESIEGED
XLIV. THE ENGLISHMAN
XLV. THE PARSON AT HOME
XLVI. THE PARSON'S STORY
XLVII. THE DESPATCH-BAG
XLVIII. THE DOXIE'S DAUGHTER
II THE SALLY
XLIX. MAKING READY
L. IN THE DRAIN
LI. VOICES OF THE LOST
LII. HARE AND HOUND
LIII. OLD TOADIE
LIV. THE PARSON'S AGONY
LV. PRETTY POLLY-KISS-ME-QUICK
LVI. THE RACE FOR THE COTTAGE
III THE SHADOW OF THE WOMAN
LVII. THE PARLEY
LVIII. THE PLANK CAPONIER
LIX. MISS BLOSSOM
LX. THE TWO PRAYERS
LXI. KNAPP'S RETURN
LXII. THE PARSON MUSES
IV THE GENTLEMAN'S LAST CARD
LXIII. NELSON'S TOPSAILS
LXIV. RUMBLINGS OF THUNDER
LXV. THE DOINGS IN THE CREEK
LXVI. BUGLES
LXVII. THE ACE OF TRUMPS
V THE FORLORN HOPE
LXVIII. THE BLESSING
LXIX. THE PARSON'S SORTIE
LXX. THE LAST OF OLD FAITHFUL
LXXI. ON THE SHINGLE-BANK
LXXII. THE RACE FOR THE LUGGER
LXXIII. NOBLESSE OBLIGE
BOOK IV NELSON
I H.M.S. MEDUSA
LXXIV. NATURE, THE COMFORTER
LXXV. ON THE DECK OF THE MEDUSA
LXXVI. IN THE CABIN OF THE MEDUSA
LXXVII. THE MEDUSA GOES ABOUT
LXXVIII. NELSON'S HEART
LXXIX. IN THE CABIN AGAIN
LXXX. THE MEDUSA DIPS HER ENSIGN
II KNAPP'S STORY
LXXXI. THE RETURN
LXXXII. BACK TO THE DOOR
LXXXIII. PIPER PRAYS
LXXXIV. IN THE COTTAGE
III THE WISH AT EVENING
LXXXV. THE SANCTUARY
LXXXVI. TWILIGHT
LXXXVII. HIS CAUSE
LXXXVIII. THE ADVENTURER
LXXXIX. THE LAST POST
SEPTEMBER 1805
The introductory poem appeared originally in the Pall Mall Magazine, and is re-published by permission of the Editor.
OUR SEA
The Sea! the Sea!
Our own home-land, the Sea!
'Tis, as it always was, and still, please God, will be,
When we are gone,
Our own,
Possessing it for Thee,
Ours, ours, and ours alone,
The Anglo-Saxon Sea.
The stripped, moon-shining, naked-bosomed Sea.
No jerry-building here;
No scenes that once were dear
Beneath man's tawdry touch to disappear;
Always the same, the Sea,
Th' unstable-steadfast Sea.
'Tis, as it always was, and still, please God, will be,
When we are gone,
Our own,
Vice-regents under Thee,
Ours, ours, and ours alone,
The Anglo-Saxon Sea.
The mighty-furrowed, moody-minded Sea.
New suns and moons arise;
Perish old dynasties;
For ever rise and die the centuries;
Only remains the Sea,
Our right of way, the Sea.
'Tis, as it always was, and still, phase God, will be,
When we are gone,
Our own,
Our heritage from Thee,
Ours, ours, and ours alone,
The Anglo-Saxon Sea.
Our good, grey, faithful, Saxon-loving Sea._
JULY 1805
"Succeed, and you command the Irish Expedition," said the squat fellow.
"My Emperor!" replied the tall cavalry-man, saluted, and clanked away in the gloom.
* * * * *
A sweet evening, very fresh, the tide crashing at the foot of the cliff.
In the twilight, above Boulogne, a man was standing, hands behind him.
The moon lay on the water, making a broad white road that led from his feet across the flowing darkness West.
The dusk was falling. About him the earth grew dark; above him all was purity and pale stars.
Only the tumble of the tide, white-lipped on the beach beneath, stirred the silence; while one little dodging ship, black in the wake of the moon, told of some dare-devil British sloop, bluffing the batteries upon the cliff.
The rustle of the water beneath, its crashing rhythm and hiss as of breath intaken swiftly, soothed him. He fell into a waking dream.
It seemed to his wide eyes that the sea rose,