“I did not give the lie, Mr. O’Loughlin,” said Howard Etherton, “to anybody. I spoke to the best of my belief. I ought to know more of my family than any one here.”
“Bedad, you’re right there, my lad; for the devil a hair any one here cares for your family. You may be cousin-German to Master Noah, for all I know; but, if the Admiral knew that a young lady he acknowledges and protects was called an impostor and a brat, be gor! I wouldn’t be in your skin for a trifle. But come with me, William; I want to talk to you a bit;” and, taking the midshipman by the arm, he forced him to leave his companions.
At the expiration of two or three days, the British fleet became in a state of intense expectation and excitement, the Admiral having determined to land troops and take possession of the forts commanding the ships in the harbour; for intelligence had arrived of the surrender of Marseilles to General Carteau and his army, whilst Rear-Admiral St. Julian manned the forts to the left of the harbour to oppose the entrance of the British fleet.
Captain Elphinstone, of the Robust, was entrusted with the command of the expedition against the forts, with fifteen hundred soldiers and two hundred marines and sailors; Lieutenant O’Loughlin and our hero being permitted by the Admiral to volunteer on that expedition. This was the third time William Thornton was exposed to the fire of an enemy’s guns.
It was not without a quicker pulsation of the heart, both from the excitement and the novelty of the affair, that young Thornton leaped from the boat upon the beach, and gazed up at the heights of Toulon that they were to storm, which were full six hundred feet high, rugged, and, to judge from the crumbling of the rocks under their feet, extremely difficult of ascent.
“Hurrah! by dad!” said Lieutenant O’Loughlin to his young companion, the midshipman, “this is one foot forward and two backwards. By the powers! I was near going with that big fellow,” as a huge rock gave way under his feet, and thundered down with a cloud of dust upon those following, forcing them to jump nimbly out of the way.
The forts, keeping up an incessant cannonade, killed and wounded many; but still the hardy sailors pressed onwards with incessant cheering; at times gaily laughing as a comrade clutched at a rock which gave way, and he and it rolled down together for several yards.
“You’re a trump, William,” said the Lieutenant, as a ball tore up the ground within a yard of the daring boy, who, with a bound, sprang over a deep fissure, and waved his cap to some of the tars of the Victory to follow, whilst a cloud of dust, stones, and gravel covered the ascending party. But the forts were gallantly stormed, and, after a fierce contest, the British remained in possession.
“You are a brave and gallant lad,” said Captain Elphinstone, putting his hand upon young Thornton’s shoulder, as, besmeared with dust and clay, without covering to the head, and his jacket cut in several places by musket balls, he made his appearance before the Captain, having just returned from bearing a message to the officer commanding the troops through a fierce fire of musketry—“Go on as you have begun, and, if God spares you, you will be an honour to your country.”
It was a glorious sight, the following day, standing on the ramparts of the fort, to behold the entrance of the British fleet into the outward harbour of Toulon, where they came to an anchor.