craft had brought up, and he watched the dingy come ashore with two men aboard.  He was very much surprised to hear one of the men mention his name; so he turned to ask what was wanted.  The fisherman handed him a dirty letter, and on opening it the Veteran found that it was from one of the able seamen aboard the barque.  The writer briefly told the circumstances, and then added that there would be no delivery from the guard ship for four days.  Within two hours the smack was beating away to the southward with the Veteran in her.  He had bidden his sweetheart good-bye, telling her quietly that they could not be married for a long time; but she did not know then how very long it would be.

The Veteran helped to work the smack round to the Humber, and it is probable that his thoughts during the trip were not cheerful.  He had asked a friend to take charge of his sloop, and had rapidly countermanded all the preparations that were being made for his marriage.  On arriving at Hull the Veteran went at once on board the guardship, and was shown into the commander’s cabin.  His business was soon over, and a sergeant of marines took him down to the wretched cockpit, where he found his father lying with cloths about his head.  The lad said quite simply, “I want you to go ashore, father, and look after the girl until I come back; I have volunteered in your stead.”  The old man would have liked to argue the point; but he knew that his son would not give way, and so he submitted.

Long afterwards the Veteran used to tell us that that was one of the best moments of his life, although his heart had been so heavy at going away from home.  So the young sailor joined the “Minotaur” and fought at the Nile.  He was many years at sea; and before he got back to the town he had risen to be sailing-master of a forty-four.  When he came to be married, all the little vessels in the harbour made themselves gay with their colours, and the church bells were rung for him as though he had been a great personage.

He lived long enough for his brief story to be forgotten; and only the clergyman and the squire, among all the people of the village where he died, knew that the old man was in the least a hero.  They knew that he was fond of children, and they were all willing to run to oblige him.  Perhaps he wanted no better reward.  In these days of advertisement, much would have been made of him; for the great Collingwood had specially mentioned him for a brilliant act of bravery.  As it was, he got very little pension and no fame.

THE HEROINE OF A FISHING VILLAGE.