though I am not a land-surveyor, nor even a general of land-forces. If

God Almighty prolongs my life--which is not very likely--it will be that

I may meet that scoundrel, Napoleon Bonaparte, on dry land. I hear

that he is eager to encounter me on the waves, himself commanding a

line-of-battle ship. I should send him to the devil in a quarter of an

hour. And ashore I could astonish him, I think, a little, if I had a

good army to back me up. Remember what I did at Bastia, in the land that

produced this monster, and where I was called the Brigadier; and again,

upon the coast of Italy, I showed that I understood all their dry-ground

business. Tush! I can beat him, ashore and afloat; and I shall, if I

live long enough. But this time the villain is in earnest, I believe,

with his trumpery invasion; and as soon as he hears that I am gone,

he will make sure of having his own way. We know, of course, there are

fifty men as good as myself to stop him, including you, my dear Darling;

but everything goes by reputation--the noise of the people--praise-puff.

That's all I get; while the luckier fellows, like Cathcart, get the

prize-money. But I don't want to grumble. Now what do you see?"

"Well, I see you, for one thing," the Admiral answered, at his leisure,

being quite inured to his friend's quick fire, "and wearing a coat that

would be a disgrace to any other man in the navy. And further on I see

some land that I never shall get my rent for; and beyond that nothing

but the sea, with a few fishing-craft inshore, and in the offing a sail,

an outward-bound East Indiaman--some fool who wouldn't wait for convoy,

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