ss. And precious soon the Johnnies had
altered the brig's course and stood away for the coast of France, the
lugger keeping her company all night.

Early next morning the two vessels were close off Dieppe Harbour; and
there, when the tide suited, they were taken inside, and the prisoners
put ashore at nightfall and lodged for three days in a filthy round
tower, swarming with vermin. On April 1--Easter Sunday, I've heard it
was--they were told to get ready for marching, and handed over, making
twenty-five in all, with the crews of two other vessels, both brigs--the
_Lisbon Packet_, bound from London to Falmouth with a general cargo, and
the _Margaret_, letter of marque of London, bound from Zante, laden with
currants--to a lieutenant and a guard of foot soldiers. Not a man of
them knew where they were bound. They set out through a main pretty
country, where the wheat stood nearabouts knee-high, but the roads were
heavy after the spring rains. Each man had seven shillings in his
pocket, given him at parting by the captain of his vessel--the three
captains had been left behind at Dieppe--and on they trudged for just a
fortnight on an allowance of 1 lb. of brown bread and twopence-halfpenny
per man per day; the bread served out regular and the money, so to say,
when they could get it. Mostly they came to a town for their night's
halt, and as often as not the townsfolk drummed them to jail with what
we call the "Rogue's March," but in France I believe it's "Honours of
War," or something that sounds politer than 'tis. But there were times
when they had to put up at a farm house by the road, and then the poor
chaps slept on straw for a treat.

Well, on the last day of the fortnight they reached their journey's
end--a great fortress on a rock standing right over the river, with a
town lying around the foot of the rock, and a smaller town, reached by a
bridge of boats, on the far side of the river. I can't call to mind the
name of the river, but the towns were called Jivvy--Great and Little
Jivvy. [1] The prison stood at the very top of the rock, on the edge of
a cliff that dropped a clean 300 feet to the river: not at all a pretty
place to get clear of, and none so cheerful to live in on a day's
allowance of one pound of brown bread, half a pound of bullock's offal,
three-halfpence in money (paid weekly, and the most of it deducted for
prison repairs, if you please!), and now and then a noggin of peas for a
treat. Th