“Wah—wah—wah!” was the only answer we got. The questions were repeated in French.
“Yes—yes; oui—oui; wah—wah—wah!” was again the reply.
“That’s a French merchant-brig. They cannot make out what we say. The fleet must have gone over to the other side of the harbour.”
Directly afterwards, the words, “Luff—luff!” reached our ears.
“They are afraid we shall be ashore, sir,” said the first lieutenant.
“Then down with the helm!” shouted the captain. The order was promptly obeyed, and the frigate came up almost head to wind; but scarcely a minute had passed when we felt that she had run stem on to the ground; but so light was the wind, and so slight was the way on her, that no damage of any sort was done.
Of course the order was immediately given to clew-up and hand the sails; and in another minute or so the Juno lay with all sails furled right up in the centre of the harbour of Toulon, with a line of heavy batteries between her and the sea. While we were handing sails, a boat was seen to put off from the brig; but instead of coming aboard us, she pulled away rapidly in the direction of the town.
Before, however, we were even off the yards, a flaw of wind took the ship’s head, and happily drove it off the bank, when the anchor was let go, and she lay with her head up the harbour. Still, however, she hung on the bank by the stern, while her rudder remained immovable and useless. Seeing this, the captain ordered a kedge to be carried out to warp her off; which, as she hung very lightly, could easily be done. To perform this operation the launch was lowered; but being a heavy boat, it took some time to get her into the water. Warps and the kedge-anchor were then placed in her, and her crew pulled away with the kedge in the proper direction to haul her off. While we were thus engaged, a boat was seen coming down the harbour.
“What boat’s that?” hailed the sentry from forward.
“Ay, ay,” was the answer.