oes for luck! Put the helm up, and make
all sail."

Captain Foley of the Goliath, being close to the Zealous, perceiving
this manoeuvre, guessed what the orders were, and bore up likewise, so
that when the two ships had shaped their course, they were nearly
abreast of each other. The Goliath being a little in advance, which
of course was rather annoying, Captain Hood stood on for some time, in
hopes of being able to take the lead in the Zealous, but finding this
could not be without jostling and confusion, he turned round and
said--

"This will never do! Well, never mind; Foley is a fine, gallant,
worthy fellow. Shorten sail, and give him time to take up his berth.
We must risk nothing that will tend to the enemy's advantage."

This was instantly done! The Goliath shot ahead, and Captain Foley
had the glory of leading the British fleet into action. By some
accident, however, he failed to place the Goliath in opposition to the
headmost ship of the enemy's line. The experienced eye of Hood
instantly saw the consequences, and while the Goliath passed on to the
second in the line, Sir Samuel placed his own ship, the Zealous,
alongside the first, exclaiming in the joy of his heart, "Thank God!
my friend Foley has left me the van ship!"

The indifference to danger and fatigue which was habitual to this
great captain cost him, I believe, his life when travelling in the
interior of India, near Seringapatam. He reached a station at which a
fresh set of palanquin bearers were to have met him, but had been
prevented by some accident. "It matters not," he cried, "let us walk."
And sure enough he set off to perform on foot a stage which might have
been dangerous on horseback; for the sun had nearly risen to the
meridian, and there was hardly a breath of wind. Possibly no mischief
might have followed this march, but he had been spending some days in
the island of Seringapatam, the most unhealthy spot in Mysore; and it
is a curious circumstance connected with the malaria of the noxious
districts, that its effects frequently lie dormant long after it has
been breathed. Sir Samuel Hood did not escape; but he felt no
inconvenience till after he descended from, and entered the Carnatic
at Madras. The jungle fever, of which the fatal seeds had been sown at
Seringapatam, attacked him after a few days. When, unfortunately for
the profession and for his country, he fell sick at Madras, and knew
that his last moments were fast approaching