lieutenants belonging to the "Victory" was sent onboard the
"Requin"--or the "Shark," as she was now almost universally called--with
orders to get under weigh and tow the flotilla down to the cove.

At the same time our signal was made, in obedience to which we went
through the fleet and took on board Lord Hood, Sir Hyde Parker, Vice-
Admiral Hotham, Captain Purvis of the "Princess Royal," Commodore
Linzee, Captain Elphinstone of the "Robust," Captain Nelson of the
"Agamemnon," and some half a dozen other officers who were going on
shore to witness the attack.

By the time that we had embarked all our passengers, the "Shark" was
under weigh and dodging about, waiting for the boats, which were
alongside their respective ships, taking in their proper complement of
men.

When all was ready, the boats shoved off and pulled for the brig, which
was by this time hove-to in readiness for taking them in tow. Admiral
Hood himself marshalled the boats in the order which he wished them to
take; and two stout hawsers being passed out of the brig's stern-ports,
the boats were lashed to them in two divisions, larboard and starboard;
and when everything was arranged to the satisfaction of our chief, he
gave the order for the brig to fill, and away we went.

It took us an hour and a half to reach the cove, the wind being so
light; and in order to remain in company, the little "Mouette's" canvas
had to be reduced to a close-reefed mainsail and small jib, under which
we were still able to sail round the flotilla occasionally, in order
that Lord Hood might see that all was right.

It was just growing dusk when the boats, having cast off from the towing
hawsers, pulled into the cove and grounded on its steep shingly beach.
We anchored the "Mouette" about a cable's length from the beach, landed
our passengers, and watched them fairly out of sight on the San Fiorenzo
road, when Bob and I leaped into our dinghy and were pulled ashore. The
naval brigade was by this time in motion; and, hurrying forward, we soon
found ourselves alongside the "Juno's" contingent, under the command of
the second lieutenant, whose Irish blood was already up, and who greeted
our appearance with a rollicking joke, which would in almost any other
man have been unbecoming the dignity of his rank. But "Paddy" Flinn--or
Micky Flinn, as he was indifferently called by his friends--had a subtle
knack of behaving in an undignified manner, without jeopardising the
re