In the way to the wharf, I inquired of the interpreter where they were taking me?  He said, on board the schooner, and that they had orders to bring my books and papers on shore; in effect, they took all the charts, papers, and journals relating to my voyage, as also the Port-Jackson letters and packets, both public and private; and having put them into a trunk which was sealed by me at their desire, they made out a report (proces verbal) of their proceedings, and requested me to sign it with them.  The preamble of this report set forth something upon the suspicions excited by my appearance at the Isle of France, with the captain-general’s opinion thereon; I therefore refused to sign it, but certified at the bottom, that all the charts, journals, and papers of the voyage, together with all the letters on board the schooner had been taken.

The conduct of these gentlemen being polite, I expressed to them my sentiments of general De Caen’s manner of receiving me, and the injustice of taking away the papers of a voyage protected by a passport from the French government; and added, that the captain-general’s conduct must alter very much before I should pay him a second visit, or even set my foot on shore again.  The interpreter hoped I would go on shore with them, for the general had ordered a lodging to be provided for me; and that, in fact, they had orders to take me there.  I looked at him and at the officer, who was one of the aides-de-camp—­What!  I exclaimed in the first transports of surprise and indignation—­I am then a prisoner!  They acknowledged it to be true; but said they hoped it would last only a few days, until my papers were examined; and that in the mean time, directions had been given that I should want for nothing.

Mr. Aken was also to go on shore; and whilst we put a few clothes together in a trunk, several black men, under the direction of another pilot, were warping the schooner up into the port.  At one in the morning [SUNDAY 18 DECEMBER 1803] the officers took us into their boat, leaving the Cumberland, with Mr. Charrington and the crew, under a guard of soldiers.

We were conducted to a large house in the middle of the town, and through a long dark entry, up a dirty stair case, into the room destined for us; the aide-de-camp and interpreter then wished us a good night, and we afterwards heard nothing save the measured steps of a sentinel, walking in the gallery before our door.  The chamber contained two truckle beds, a small table and two rush-bottomed chairs; and from the dirty appearance of the room I judged the lodging provided for us by the general to be one of the better apartments of a common prison; there were, however, no iron bars behind the lattice windows, and the frame of a looking-glass in the room had formerly been gilt.  It seemed to me a wiser plan to leave the circumstances to develop themselves, rather than to fatigue ourselves with uncertain conjectures; therefore, telling Mr. Aken we should probably know the truth soon enough, I stripped and got into bed; but between the musketoes above and bugs below, and the novelty of our situation, it was near daybreak before either of us dropped asleep.