but it should seem he had none to promise the restitution of the glasses; for I saw all the officers depart, and to the best of my knowledge not one of them could obtain their own.  When Mr. Robertson quitted the island, and he was one of the first, his spy-glass was not to be found.  The French gentleman to whom he delegated his claim, wrote to the town major upon the subject; and the answer was, that all arms and instruments taken from prisoners of war were the lawful property of the captors, as a reward for their courage; that for himself, he had not taken advantage of this right, but had given the glass in question to an officer of La Semillante, to be used against the enemies of his country.  This answer not appearing satisfactory, the gentleman replied that he did not understand how a spy-glass, belonging to a surgeon, as Mr. Robertson was, could be construed into arms or instruments of war.  The owner had come to the island on account of his health, previously to the war, and been detained, therefore no extraordinary courage had been displayed in his case; and as these circumstances must have been forgotten by the major, he hoped the glass would be restored according to promise.  To this no answer was returned; and whether all the glasses were given away, or how disposed of I did not learn, but had to regret the loss of two.

To the measure of taking away our spy-glasses was added that of nailing up the door leading to the flat roof of the house.  At sunset the sentinel was accustomed to quit the outer gate, and to be posted before the door of the prison to prevent any person going into the inclosure after that time; then it was that a walk upon the roof, after the heat of the day was passed, became a real pleasure; but of this we were now deprived.* On the following day a demand was made by a serjeant of invalids, who lived in the house as police officer, of the swords and all other arms in possession of the prisoners, and of mine amongst the rest; but not choosing to deliver up my sword in this manner, I addressed a short letter to the captain-general, representing that it was inconsistent with my situation in His Britannic Majesty’s service to do so; I was ready to deliver it to an officer bearing His Excellency’s order, but requested that officer might be of equal rank to myself.  In a week captain Neufville called to say, that it was altogether a mistake of the serjeant that my arms had been asked for, and he was sorry it had taken place; had the captain-general meant to demand my sword, it would have been done by an officer of equal rank; but he had no intention to make me a prisoner until he should receive orders to that effect.  The explanation attending this apology seemed to be strange; and the next time captain Neufville came to the house I observed to him, that it appeared singular, after having been confined six months, to be told I was not a prisoner, and asked him to explain it.  He said, no certainly, I was not a prisoner—­my sword had not been taken away; that I was simply detained for reasons which he did not pretend to penetrate, and put under surveillance for a short period.