urging him ignominiously back with none at all;
yet managing, all the time, to keep an eye on
the wavering fifty-one. Foaming at the mouth,
he explained in a breathless manner that he was
"responsible at the gate" for fifty-two bodies,
no more, no less, whose entrance-orders and
passports were in his pocket. Furthermore, he
was responsible for the safety of all dockyard
property. On this point it was vain to assure
him that the abstraction of anchors, cables,
bars, and beams, was the last object we had in
view. It was clear that he never ceased to
regard us with suspicion, and to watch every
movement within his range of vision, as if he
thought it boded an attempt to conceal marine
stores in our hats and handkerchiefs.

Nothing could exceed the order and neatness
of the whole department, the grand yet simple
arrangement of its apparently inexhaustible
resources of every kind; its pompous pyramids
of iron hail; the trophy Napoleon, and the
magnificent armoury, a work of absolute genius,
with its interminable avenues of small-arms
arranged in every conceivable form, with faultless
accuracy, and bright as though dusted every
hour. Among other quaint devices, there were
orange-trees, in full bearing, whose leaves and
branches were musket-locks, triggers, &c., and
the fruit, nine-pound shot.

We had been handed over to a military escort
through the armoury, and, on descending again
to the court, rejoined our guide, when the
chasings, captures, shouting, and remonstrance,
recommenced with new vigour. Here, again, we
encountered strings of sullen-browed convicts.
Most of these wore the most horrible expression
of hate and rancour; some few were rather
cheerful than otherwise, and gazed at us with a
sort of impudent curiosity. In general, however,
they seemed to avoid looking at us at all,
and when some of our party with an impulse of
compassion touched their hats in passing, very
few returned the salute. Their guard did not
treat them harshly; but, as drove after drove
passed by weary and lame from labour, allowed
them to rest and drink at frequent intervals. It
struck us as singular that so many were lame;
but, when it is remembered that a convict who
has escaped lameness, after but a year's
imprisonment, may be recognised by the shuffling
gait acquired by his shackled leg, it may easily
be believed that a prolonged familiarity with
the ring and chain may permanently affect the
limb.

The faces of these miserable people were
burned to a dark mahogany tint; most of them
were condemned "for life," none for less than
twenty years. Twenty years! Who can realise
it? The heart of life cut hopelessly away—the
time of hope, and joy, and profitable labour riven
from the little span—and, in its stead, twenty
long years of scorching sun, of biting wind, of
work, and silence, and shame.

It must be owned that the forçats are
commodiously lodged. The dormitories are large
and high, and very airy. There is an inclined
plane the whole length of the room, on which
the mat and rug are placed. At the foot, an
immense iron bar passes round the apartment,
to which the prisoner's foot is attached by a
ring and chain.

From hence we went to the bazaar, where
many little articles of really beautiful workmanship
—carved wood and gourds, powder-horns,
pouches, egg-cups, made by the convicts—were
for sale, at prices ranging from two hundred
francs to fifty cents. Some of the more important
objects were exquisitely designed and wrought.
The vendors were all convicts, and the secretary
who receives the money and undertakes all the
business arrangements, was himself a prisoner for
life—for murder. An extraordinary thing about
this man was the grim coxcombry of his dress.
He was, of course, attired "en forçat," in red
and yellow; but had somehow contrived to bring
his unhappily-tinted garments within the rules
of the prevailing fashions. His prison trousers
were reduced in width one-half, and made to fit
neatly round the calf and ankle, and the red
blouse had been metamorphosed into a handsome
scarlet swallow-tailed hunting-coat. The ring
round his ankle was probably as bright as silver,
but it was skilfully hidden. He bowed with
much grace, and accompanied us politely to the
door. Beyond it he dared not go. A ball from
one of those good-natured-looking soldiers would
speedily stop him if he did. He lifted his green
cap—fatal badge of a life-captivity—and retired
to his daily avocations.

We made many small purchases, the
convict-mechanics showing unlimited confidence
in our honesty and filling our hands with
minute objects, many of which were of
considerable value. One of the men showed me
with his instruments the manner of carving
cocoa-nut shells. While doing so, a tiny
particle flew up into my eye, giving me for the
moment intense pain. The poor man was
overwhelmed with despair. His politeness—
his pity—rose up in arms. Was madame
much injured? Alas! she was enduring exqusite
anguish—was it not truly insupportable?
And all, unhappy one! by his mal-address!
"Kind-hearted creature!" I might have thought.
But my uninjured eye rested on the green cap—
"Life"—"Murder."

After all, there were few of the fifty-two who
did not leave that melancholy spot more sorrowful
than they came.

Just as our cicerone was on the point of taking
leave, he directed my attention to a little woman,
quietly dressed, who was walking up and down
on the pavement outside the gate. She looked
nervously in at the open entrance, then, turning,
walked hurriedly away. The glance, and the
hurried turn, were repeated every time, and my
friend of the dockyard told me that she had
walked there, with few exceptions, every day
for nine years. The guards at the gate know
her as well as their own sentry-boxes, and some
of them could note the gradual decay that had
changed her from a bright young pretty-
featured woman, to what she now appeared.

"She is so aged and altered," said the gardien,