With this light westerly air, a gun will be heard a long distance at sea.

Take the pen, and write as I dictate, sir." Clinch seized the pen, which the admiral, who had lost his right arm only a few years before, really felt unable to use, and wrote as follows: "Sir--Immediately on the receipt of this, you will fire three heavy guns, at intervals of half a minute, as a signal to the Proserpine to suspend an execution.
"To the Commanding Officer of His Majesty's Ship Foudroyant." As soon as the magical words of "Nelson and Bronte" were affixed to this order, with a date, Clinch rose to depart.

After he had made his bows, he stood with his hand on the lock of the door, as if uncertain whether to prefer a request or not.
"This is a matter of moment, sir, and no time is to be lost," added Nelson.

"I feel great anxiety about it, and wish you to desire Captain Cuffe to send you back with a report of all that has passed, as soon as convenient." "I will report your wishes, my lord," answered Clinch, brightening up; for he only wanted an opportunity to speak of his own promotion, and this was now offered in perspective.

"May I tell the commanding officer of the flag-ship to use the lower-deck guns, my lord ?" "He will do that of his own accord, after reading those orders; heavy guns mean the heaviest.