of its officers, they took their captains from the merchant service. I had had some little brushes with the pirates which I will tell you about some other time, and they gave me the Command of a small brig-of-war, named the Mara."
"On the 28th of Fructidor, 1797, I received orders to get ready for a voyage to Cayenne. I was to transport there sixty soldiers and a déporté, who had remained behind, of the one hundred and ninety-three which the frigate La Decade had taken on board some days before. I had orders to treat this individual with kindness, and the first letter of the Directory inclosed the second, sealed with three red seals, the middle one of which was of enormous size. I was forbidden to open this letter before reaching the first degree north latitude, and between the 27th and 28th of longitude—that is to say, when about crossing the line. This big letter was of a shape altogether peculiar. It was very long, and so tightly closed that I could not get at a word, either in at the corners or through the envelope. I am not superstitious, but it frightened me, that letter. I placed it in my cabin, under the glass of a poor little English clock, which was nailed up over my berth. Mine was a real sailor's bed, if you know what that is. But what am I talking about?—you have lived at most but sixteen summers; you can never have seen anything of that kind. A queen's chamber cannot be so neatly arranged as
