complished, when another fearful explosion, even greater
than the first, took place, close to where the tender and the boats were
at the moment passing.

It was the frigate _Montreal_. Down came around the boats a complete
avalanche of burning timbers, huge guns, masts, spars, and blocks,
rattling, and crashing, and hissing into the water. The seamen, already
almost exhausted with their exertions, could scarcely attempt even to
escape the fiery shower. Many of the poor fellows sank down at their
oars, and those in each boat believed that their comrades had been
destroyed; but when they drew out of the circle of destruction and
mustered once more, not one had been injured.

Although fired on by the Republicans, who had taken possession of Forts
Balaguier and Aiguillette, the boats slowly pulled out to join the fleet
already outside. A few only, whose crews had strength left, returned to
aid the flying inhabitants. The last of the troops had been embarked
under the able management of Captain Elphinstone, of the _Robust_, and
other Captains, without the loss of a man, the _Robust_ being the last
ship to leave the harbour when the infuriated Republicans, breathing
vengeance on the helpless inhabitants, rushed into the city.

The terrible intelligence reached them that even in the suburbs neither
age nor sex had been spared. Husbands seized their wives or daughters,
mothers their children, and, rushing from their houses, fled towards the
water, where their friends had already long ago embarked. Shot and
shell were remorselessly fired down on them; numbers were cut in pieces
as they fled. Every step they heard behind they thought came from a
pursuing foe. Many, unable to reach the boats, preferring instant death
to the bayonets of their countrymen, rushed, with their infants in their
arms, and perished in the waves.

Daylight approached, and with sorrowful reluctance the brave seamen had
to draw off from the scene of destruction to avoid falling into the
hands of the enemy.

The boat in which True Blue pulled the bow oar was one of the last to
quit the harbour, and for many a day afterwards the shrieks of the
hapless Toulonese, murdered by their countrymen, rang in his ears.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

The frigate was soon after this sent home with dispatches; but scarcely
was she clear of the Straits of Gibraltar than the wind fell, a thick
fog came on, and she lay becalmed some twenty leagues off the Spanish
co