Chapter Seventeen.
The Convention Redoubt.
Bob’s curiosity to hear my story was about equal to his appetite for dinner, so while we proceeded with the demolition of the comestibles, I related to him the various adventures which had befallen me since leaving the old “Juno,” demanding in return an explanation of the circumstances which led to his turning up in the opportune manner related in the last chapter.
“Oh!” replied he, “I can tell you that in half-a-dozen words. When the boat returned from landing you, old Rawlings went at once to the cabin to make his report, and soon afterwards we filled away and stood to the nor’ard and east’ard under easy canvas. Then the wind fell light, and by-and-by it dropped altogether, and when daylight began to appear we found ourselves within about six miles of this brig. The skipper and Mr Annesley both toddled up as far as the main-topsail-yard to take a look at her. They were about a quarter of an hour up there, and when they came down, the first and second cutters were sent away to see who and what she was. Mr Flinn had charge of one boat, Percival and I went in the other. We soon saw that she was French, and the lads gave a cheer and laid themselves out to race for her. Our boat was rather the lighter of the two, and Percival and I promised our people a bottle of grog if we got alongside first, in consequence of which we beat Flinn all to splinters. Seeing us walking ahead, he hailed us to keep back in line with him, which was likely, wasn’t it? Oh, yes! Didn’t he wish he might get it? By the time that we were within half a mile of her the brig had got her boarding-netting all triced up, guns loaded and depressed, and everything ready for a warm reception. She withheld her fire until we were close to her, intending, I suppose, to utterly demolish us just before we got alongside; but I was watching them with my telescope, and as soon as they had got their broadside carefully trained and were about to fire, we simply took a broad sheer to port, and before they could lay their guns afresh, we were under her bows, and into her head, from whence we at last managed to hew our way in upon deck. This disheartened the Frenchmen, and they began to give way, and at that moment in came Flinn and his lot over the starboard quarter, laying about them right and left. That settled the business; the Johnnies flung down their arms and cried for quarter, which of course we gave them.
“She turned out to be the ‘Requin,’ privateer, armed with eight long nine-pounders, with a crew of forty men in her forecastle, and her hold crammed with the choicest pickings of the cargoes of some five or six prizes. So you see she proved to be a valuable prize herself. I was put in charge, with a prize crew of eight men, to take her into Malta; and I also carried a despatch for the admiral on the station. The old boy was as pleased as Punch, when he read the skipper’s letter, and actually invited me to dine with him that night, which you may be sure I did. He asked me a good many questions about the fight, and about the brig herself, and next day he came on board us and gave the craft a thorough overhaul. The result was, that we were ordered alongside the arsenal wharf, where we discharged the entire cargo, took in a lot of iron ballast, filled the magazine and water-casks, shipped a quantity of shot and provisions for the fleet here, added seventeen more hands to our books, and sailed again just a week ago to-day, with orders to join the fleet at San Fiorenzo and report myself to Admiral Hood, for whom also, by the way, I have a letter or despatch, or something of that sort.”
Such was the account which Mr Robert Summers gave of himself, and upon its conclusion we adjourned to the deck.
We were by this time within three miles of the fleet, and within about six miles of the two detached ships, which were still maintaining a vigorous cannonade upon the shore battery. We brought our telescopes to bear upon these two ships, and soon had the gratification of recognising in one of them our own dear old craft, the “Juno.” She did not appear to have received very much damage, but the other, which we were unable to identify, seemed to be very much cut up about her spars and rigging.
While still intently watching the progress of the fight, we observed a thin column of greyish brown smoke curling up into the air from the “Juno’s” consort. That it was not the smoke from her guns we could see at once by its peculiar colour. It rapidly increased in volume, and as it did so the ship’s fire slackened until it died away almost entirely. Still watching the vessel, as the smoke from her guns drove away to leeward, we saw three little tongues of flame darting out from her side.
“Tell you what, Chester!” exclaimed Summers; “those fellows ashore are firing red-hot shot, and they’ve set the old barkie on fire.”