"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.
"Just look, sir--those are Republican cockades!" he whispered. "As the
light of a lantern fell on their hats, I observed it. There's some
trick put upon us."
"In truth you are right, my lad, I greatly fear," answered the captain,
in an agitated voice. "Where do you say Lord Hood is?" he asked,
turning abruptly to the Frenchman.
"My Lord Hood! He is not here. He has long ago departed. We have no
lords here," answered the French officer in a sneering tone. "You have
made a great mistake, and are like a rat in a hole. The truth is,
Monsieur le Capitaine, you and your ship's company are prisoners! But
make yourself easy--the English are good people--we will treat them
kindly."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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