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Page 8
But, from us, what can they find out! That I love you, most dearly;
and hate the French, most damnably.
Dr. Scott went to Barcelona, to try to get the private letters; but,
I fancy, they are all gone to Paris. The Swedish and American Consuls
told him, that the French Consul had your picture, and read your
letters; and, Doctor thinks, one of them probably read the letters.
By the master's account of the cutter, I would not have trusted a pair
of old shoes in her. He tells me, she did not sail, but was a good
sea-boat.
I hope, Mr. Marsden will not trust any more of my private letters in
such a conveyance; if they choose to trust the affairs of the public
in such a thing, I cannot help it.
I long for the invasion being over; it must finish the war, and I have
no fears for the event.
I do not say, all I wish; and which, my dearest _beloved_ Emma--(read
that, whoever opens this letter; and, for what I care, publish it to
the world)--your fertile imagination can readily fancy I would say:
but this I can say, with great truth, that I am, FOR EVER, YOUR'S
--------
LETTER XLVII.
Victory, May 27th, 1804.
MY DEAREST EMMA,
Yesterday, I took Charles Connor on board, from the Phoebe, to try
what we can do with him. At present, poor fellow, he has got a very
bad eye--and, I almost fear, that he will be blind of it--owing to an
olive-stone striking his eye: but the surgeon of the Victory, who is
by far the most able medical man I have ever seen, and equally so as a
surgeon, [says] that, if it can be saved, he will do it.
The other complaint, in his head, is but little more, I think, than it
was when he first came to Deal; a kind of silly laugh, when spoken to.
He always complains of a pain in the back part of his head; but, when
that is gone, I do not perceive but that he is as wise as many of his
neighbours.
You may rely, my dear Emma, that nothing shall be wanting, on my part,
to render him every service.
Capel--although, I am sure, very kind to younkers---I do not think,
has the knack of keeping them in high discipline; he lets them be
their own master too much.
I paid Charles's account, yesterday; since he has been in the Phoebe,
one hundred and fifty-five pounds, fourteen shillings. However, he
must now turn over a new leaf; and I sincerely hope, poor fellow, he
will yet do well.
I wrote you on the 22d, through Rosas, in Spain; and I shall write, in
a few days, by Barcelona: this goes by Gibraltar.
I have wrote Admiral Lutwidge; Mrs. Lutwidge must wait, for I cannot
get through all my numerous letters: for, whoever writes, although
upon their own affairs, are offended if they are not answered.
I have not seen young Bailey: I suppose, he is in the Leviathan. By
the parcel, I see, he is in the Canopus; and I can, at present, be of
no use to him.
May 30th.
Charles is very much recovered.
I write you, this day, by Barcelona. Your dear phiz--but not the least
like you--on the cup, is safe: but I would not use it, for the world;
for, if it was broke, it would distress me very much.
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