d forts while his
own fleet, with one sent by Spain to join him, entered the harbour.

At this time a number of supernumeraries, of whom I was one, sailed from
Plymouth to join various ships in the Mediterranean, and, in course of
time, I found myself on board the _Juno_, a fine 32-gun frigate,
commanded by Captain Samuel Hood. We sailed from Malta early in the
year 1794, with some officers and a few troops, to reinforce the scanty
garrison at Toulon, then besieged, as was reported, by a formidable army
of the Republicans, amounting to thirty-three thousand men, under
Generals Kellerman and Carteaux.

The _Juno_ was just the sort of dashing frigate a young fellow of spirit
would wish to belong to, and her Captain was just the man he would wish
to serve under. Strict discipline was kept up on board, and all hands
were made to know their duty, and to do it. Her officers, too, were as
smart a set as ever stepped. I was very fortunate in this, because for
the first time since I came to sea I was among strangers, with the
exception of Jacob Lyal, who had joined her with me. Peter Poplar was
far away in another ship, and I own I missed him sorely. Still. I had
learned my duty, and I hoped to continue to do it.

We had a quick passage from Malta, and made the French coast just before
nightfall. We had carried on all sail, in the hope of getting in while
daylight lasted, as the captain was anxious to deliver his despatches
and land his passengers, and be out again in search of any stray
cruisers of the enemy. The wind, however, fell so light that we were
unable to do as he hoped. But he was not a man to be turned from his
purpose. Accordingly, rather than lose a day, he stood boldly in for
the harbour-mouth, which is not a difficult one to make. We expected
that a pilot would have come out to us, but none appeared; and as no
signal was made for one, it was then known that the captain intended to
find his way in in the dark.

Trusty men were placed in the chains with the lead; all hands were at
their stations; those with the sharpest eyes were placed as look-outs;
the captain stood, trumpet in hand, on the quarter-deck, ready to issue
his orders. Not a word was spoken fore or aft. The wind was light, and
nearly abeam. Thus, with a dead silence reigning on board, the gallant
frigate entered the harbour of Toulon. The officers, with their
night-glasses in hand, were anxiously looking out for the British fleet,