“Officers coming alongside!” cried the sentry—such being the answer given by naval officers when hailed by a ship-of-war. A captain repeats the name of his ship.
The gangway was manned to receive the visitors. Every one was puzzled to know the meaning of a visit at so unusual an hour, and anxious to know what it meant. A well-manned boat came alongside, and two French officers, with several other people, scrambled up on deck.
“Be smart, then, my lads, with the kedge,” sung out Mr Webley, third lieutenant, from forward. “We must get the ship afloat before the wind drives her further on.”
The French officers looked about the decks for an instant, and then, followed by their people, went aft to the captain, who was standing on the quarter-deck ready to receive them.
“Monsieur le Capitaine,” said one of them, taking off his hat and bowing politely, “I am sent by the chief of the port to compliment you on the way you have brought your ship into this loyal port, but to express regret that the regulations he has been compelled to issue make it necessary for you to go over to the southern side of the harbour, there to perform a quarantine for a short ten days or so, as you come from Alexandria, an infected place.”
“But we don’t come from Alexandria; we come from Malta, which is not an infected place,” answered the captain.
“Then, monsieur, Malta is an infected place,” returned the officer, quickly.
“I cannot understand that,” answered Captain Hood. “I have to deliver my despatches, and some supernumeraries for the army here, and then to be away again as fast as possible. I beg, gentlemen, you will inform me where the Victory, Lord Hood’s ship, is. I must be guided by his orders.”
“Certainly, monsieur, certainly,” said the Frenchman, bowing with a bland smile. “We will pilot you to him.”
I remember thinking, as the Frenchmen walked along the deck, that there was a good deal of swagger in their manner, but I only set it down to Gallic impudence. While this conversation was going on, one of our midshipmen, a smart youngster—Mowbray, I think, was his name—had been inquisitively examining the Frenchmen, and he now hurried up to the captain, and drew him aside.