was, at the same time, impelled to secrecy, by the dread of an assured death.  Possessed of this treasure, Sir Horatio had immediately sailed; but, as his possession of this talisman was to remain a profound secret, till those periods should arrive when it must necessarily be produced, the same sort of correspondence continued to be kept up, between the parties, as if no such favour had been conferred on the hero by any friendly enchantress whatever.  Accordingly, the following epistle, dated on board the Vanguard at Sea, the 18th of June 1798, was sent to Sir William Hamilton, apologizing for not having answered the letter of that worthy and most esteemed gentleman previously to sailing.

     “MY DEAR SIR,

“I would not lose one moment of the breeze, in answering your letter.  The best sight—­as an Irishman would say—­was, to see me out of sight:  especially, as I had not time to examine the Marquis de Gallo’s note to you.  I send you an extract of the Admiralty orders to the Earl of St. Vincent, by which it would appear as determined by the cabinet, to keep a superior fleet to that of the enemy in the Mediterranean; for the Admiralty, you know, can give no such orders, but by an order from the secretary of state.  As for what depends on me, I beg, if you think it proper, to tell their Sicilian majesties, and General Acton, they may rest assured that I shall not withdraw the king’s fleet, but by positive orders, or the impossibility of procuring supplies.  I wish them to depend upon me, and they shall not be disappointed.  God forbid it should so happen, that the enemy escape me, and get into any port!  You may rely, if I am properly supplied, that there they shall remain, a useless body, for this summer.  But, if I have gun and mortar boats, with fire-ships, it is most probable they may be got at:  for, although I hope the best, yet it is proper to be prepared for the worst; which, I am sure, all this fleet would feel to be, the escape of the enemy into port.  My distress for frigates is extreme; but I cannot help myself, and no one will help me.  But, I thank God, I am not apt to feel difficulties.  Pray, present my best respects to Lady Hamilton.  Tell her, I hope to be presented to her crowned with laurel or cypress.  But, God is good; and, to him, do I commit myself and our cause.  Ever believe me, my dear Sir, your obliged and faithful

     “Horatio Nelson.”

On the 20th of June, the British fleet passed through the Pharos of Messina, with a fair wind.  The joy with which the Sicilians hailed the squadron, when they discovered it to be British, gave the most heartfelt satisfaction to all on board.  A vast number of boats came off, and rowed round with the loudest congratulations, and the most sincere exultations of delight; as they had been apprehensive that the French fleet, having secured Malta, was coming to act against them.

Having learned, from the British consul, that Malta had certainly been attacked, and was reported to have, at least, in part, surrendered to the French, he now addressed a letter to the most illustrious Grand Master of Malta:  apprizing him, that he was hastening to prevent that island from falling into the hands of the common enemy; and instructing him how to proceed till his arrival, which might be expected the following Friday.