One vessel only, a small brig, could be detected, and the captain, supposing the fleet had run into the inner harbour during the recent easterly gale, resolved to push up likewise.  The batteries all kept quiet, and though the brig hailed the frigate as she passed in a language so indistinct that no one could make it out, not the least suspicion was excited.  Supposing they wanted to know what ship it was, I told them it was the Juno.  The brig, however, was not quite so courteous in return; for they merely replied by the word “Viva,” but made no answer to the captain’s repeated inquiry as to the brig’s name, and the position of the British fleet.  As the Juno passed under the stern of this treacherous little craft, a voice called out, “Luff! luff!” which naturally induced Captain Hood to put his helm down, from an idea that shoal water lay close to leeward of him.  Nothing could have been more adroitly managed, for before the frigate came head to wind, she stuck fast upon the shoal, to which the words “Luff, luff!” had no doubt been intended to direct her.

A boat was now observed to proceed from the brig to the town.  As there was but little wind, and the water perfectly smooth, the Juno’s sails were clewed up and handed; but before the men were all off the yards, a gust of wind came sweeping down the harbour, and drove her off the shoal so suddenly as to give her brisk stern-way.  The anchor was speedily let go, but when she tended, the after-part of her keel took the ground, and the rudder could not be moved.  The launch and cutter being instantly hoisted out, the usual preparations were made to lay out a kedge, to heave the ship off.

At this critical moment a boat came alongside.  The people appeared anxious to get out of her, and two of them, apparently officers, came up the side.  They said it was the regulation of the port, as well as the commanding officer’s orders, that ships should go further into the harbour, there to perform ten days’ quarantine.  In the despatch relating this transaction, Captain Hood says, “I kept asking them where Lord Hood’s ship lay;” the two Frenchmen knew not what to do or say next.  In the mean time, one of the mids, who happened to be thrusting his head forward after the investigating manner of this enterprising class of officers, said apart to the captain,—­

“Why, sir, they wear national cockades!”

“I looked at one of their hats more steadfastly,” says Captain Hood in his narrative, “and by the moonlight clearly distinguished the three colours.”

“Perceiving they were suspected,” continues Sir Samuel in his narrative, “and on my questioning them again about Lord Hood, one of them replied, ’Soyez tranquille, les Anglais sont de braves gens, nous les traitons bien; l’amiral anglais est sorti il y a quelque temps.’”