old
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."

Such was in fact the case, and in a few minutes we saw a signal run up
to the royal-mast-head of the "Victory," Lord Hood's flag-ship. The
sevent