he
could engage him in conversation on his cruisers and prizes he might
offer him a new American-built ship of twenty guns which should sail
very fast, to be presented to his daughter, on condition that he would
wait six months longer for our money. The Jew observed that we had
better say a ship of twenty-four guns, to which we agreed. After seeing
him three or four times yesterday under pretence of other business,
without being able to touch upon this, he went this morning and
succeeded.

"The novelty of the proposition gained the dey's attention for a moment,
and he consented to see us on the subject; but he told the Jew to tell
us that it must be a ship of thirty-six guns or he would not listen to
the proposition. We were convinced that we ought not to hesitate an
instant. We accordingly went and assented to his demand, and he has
agreed to let everything remain as it is for the term of three months
from this day, but desired us to remember that not a single day beyond
that will be allowed on any account.

"We consider the business as now settled on this footing, and it is the
best ground that we could possibly place it upon. You still have it in
your power to say peace or no peace: you have an alternative. In the
other case war was inevitable, and there would have been no hope of
peace during the reign of this dey....

"In order to save the treaty, which has been the subject of infinite
anxiety and vexation, we found it necessary some time ago to make an
offer to the Jew of ten thousand sequins (eighteen thousand dollars), to
be paid eventually if he succeeded, and to be distributed by him among
such great officers of state as he thought necessary, and as much of it
to be kept for himself as he could keep consistent with success. The
whole of this new arrangement will cost the United States about
fifty-three thousand dollars. We expect to incur blame, because it is
impossible to give you a complete view of the circumstances, but we are
perfectly confident of having acted right."

A few weeks later the long-expected ransom arrived: the prison-doors
were thrown open, and the captives came out into the sunlight. How
pitifully the poet-diplomatist received them, how tenderly he cared for
their wants, and how he exerted himself to secure for them a speedy
passage to their native land, may be inferred from the character of the
man. Having now accomplished the object of his mission, it was to be
expected that he would