“Hard down with your helm!” exclaimed Annesley; “over with it, my man: tacks and sheets! Ah! we have cut it too fine,” as with a gentle surge the frigate was brought up all standing on the shoal. “Away aloft, men; clew up and haul down; furl everything!”
The topsail and jib halliards were let run, the canvas was clewed up, and in a minute or two more all was snugly stowed. The men were just in the act of laying in off the yards, when a little puff of wind coming down the harbour caught the frigate’s bow, and to our great gratification paid her head round until her fore-foot scraped off the bank. The order was at once given to let go the anchor; the cable smoked out through the hawse-pipe, and the ship swung round, head to wind. We found, however, that her heel was still fast on the shoal, and the rudder immovable; it was therefore determined, as the tide was on the turn, to hoist out the launch at once, and run away a kedge, in order to haul the ship off while the operation was still possible. Tackles were accordingly got up on the fore and main-yardarms, and in less than five minutes the launch was in the water alongside.
“Where is Mr Chester?” said the first lieutenant, looking round. “Here, sir!” I replied, emerging from the shadow of the bulwarks, where I had been taking a peep at things in general through an open port, from which I had observed, among other things, a six-oared gig pull from the brig, and make towards the town; but foolishly I failed to report the circumstance, not at that moment attaching the slightest importance to it. “Jump into the launch, Mr Chester, and take charge,” said Mr Annesley. “I want the kedge run away here, about two points on our port bow. You must not go farther to windward than that, or the tide will take our quarter, when we float, and drive us down on the brig. Now off you go, and be as smart as you can.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” I replied, touching my cap, and away I scrambled down into the launch, where I found the kedge already stowed, with hawsers coiled down on top of it until the boat’s stern was barely a couple of inches out of water.
“Shove off and give way, men!” I exclaimed, as my foot touched the thwart; the bowman shoved the boat’s head off, the oars dropped into the phosphorescent water with a luminous splash, and we pulled down the harbour in the direction indicated by Mr Annesley. We pulled steadily on until all the hawser in the boat had been paid out, when we let go the kedge, and hailing the frigate to “heave in,” paddled back alongside.
While running out the kedge, I had observed a boat pulling toward the “Juno,” and when we reached the frigate, we found this craft alongside. In the meantime the frigate had been hove off the bank without much difficulty, and the tide acting strongly on her hull the moment that she floated, she had drifted down to her kedge, which had been lifted, and the anchor having been tripped as she drifted over it was once more let go, just as we got alongside. The launch, not being required any farther at the moment, was passed astern, the crew being first ordered out of her. In order to regain the frigate’s deck, it was necessary for us to pass over the boat alongside, which was lying in the wake of the gangway, and as we did so, I noticed that the eight men composing her crew were unmistakably French, and that, strange to say, they were fully armed. This struck me as so singular a circumstance, that I resolved to have a good look at the other individuals who had come off to us, and who were doubtless on deck in confabulation with the skipper. I found them, as I expected, on the quarter-deck, talking to the captain and the first lieutenant. There were two of them, apparently French officers; but the one who was talking spoke excellent English, and was, at the moment when I drew near the group, explaining to Captain Hood that, in compliance with a regulation of the port, and the commanding officer’s orders, it would be necessary for the ship at once to proceed higher up the harbour to the quarantine ground, there to perform ten days’ quarantine, and that he, the speaker, was deputed to pilot the ship then and there to her new berth.
“Phew!” ejaculated the skipper. “Quarantine, eh? with all these people on board; this is a pretty business, truly. I can’t understand it at all; there is no sickness at present at Malta, and we carry a perfectly clean bill of health. Surely there must be a mistake somewhere. Before taking up a berth in this quarantine ground, I should like to communicate with Lord Hood. Can you point me out his ship, monsieur?”
“You cannot see her from here, Monsieur le Capitaine,” replied the Frenchman. “Besides, an interview with the British Admiral will avail you nothing; he is doubtless retired by this time, and, even if he were not, he could not interfere; he has no authority whatever in the present matter.”
I thought I detected a covert smile of derision passing over the speaker’s face as he said this, and I turned to see whether I could detect anything of the kind on that of his companion, but I found he had withdrawn to the gangway, apparently to call his people up out of the boat, for they were just coming up over the side, as I looked. In another moment he sauntered back, and rejoined the group from which he had so quietly slipped away.
“Do you say that we cannot see the British flag-ship from here, sir?” inquired Mr Annesley. “Then pray where is she? It seems to me that every ship in the harbour is within view from here; yet, now I come to look, I cannot see a single British ship among them all. Does it not strike you, sir, that there is something rather peculiar about this business?” turning to the skipper.