treet the party dispersed, either singly or in twos
and threes; but having neither food nor money, and being quite ignorant
of the English language or the localities round Liverpool, they were
quite helpless and everywhere betrayed who they were, what they were, and
where they came from. Some fell in with the town watchmen; others struck
out into the country, and after wandering about in a starved, hungry, and
miserable state, were very glad to get back to their old shelter, bad as
they thought it, and hardly as they considered they had been treated.
They admitted that their party was too large, that they had no friends to
co-operate with them outside, and no plan of action which was possibly or
likely to be carried out successfully. The lot of these, however, was
not shared by all, for Durand, as will be seen by his recital, had not
done amiss, thanks to his wit, ingenuity, and cleverness.
The following is Durand's narrative:--
"As you know, Monsieur Le Capitaine (he always called my father so), I am
a Frenchman, fond of liberty and change, and this detestable prison
became so very irksome to me, with its scanty food and straw beds on the
floor, that I had for some time determined to make my escape and go to
Ireland, where I believe sympathies are strong towards the French nation.
I am, as you know, acquainted with Monsieur P---, who resides in
Dale-street; I have done some work for him. He has a niece who is _toute
a faite charmante_. She has been a constant ambassador between us, and
has brought me work frequently, and taken charge of my money when I have
received any, to deposit with her uncle on my account. I hold that young
lady in the highest consideration. This place is bad for anyone to have
property in, although we are in misery alike. Some of us do not know the
difference between my own and thy own. We have strange communist ideas
in this building. Now "Monsieur Le Capitaine" you want to know how I got
away, where I went, and how I came back. I will tell you. I could not
help it. I have had a pleasing three months' holiday, and must be
content to wait for peace or death, to release me from this _sacre_
place. The niece of Monsieur P--- is very engaging, and when I have had
conversation with her in the hall where we are permitted to see our
friends, I obtained from her the information that on the east side of our
prison there were two houses which opened into a short narrow street.
One of these
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