The length of the journey they had to perform, rendered the prisoners very solicitous about their pecuniary concerns, particularly as no person at Cherbourg would discount their bills. Captain Brenton, in order to increase his stock, offered his watch for sale at a watchmaker’s, who would give him only five guineas for it, though the watch was made by a first rate maker, and was of gold. He consequently left the spot with some indignation. Whilst standing at the door of the Auberge a little while after, he was addressed by a person who wished to know, if he had not a watch to dispose of. Captain Brenton expecting a similar offer to the last, answered, “Yes, but you will not buy it.” The stranger replied, “That is more than you know, let me see it.” Upon examining the watch, he asked the original price of it, and being told thirty-one guineas; he said, “Were I to buy your watch, I would only give fifteen guineas; but as I only mean to take it in pledge, I will let you have twenty-five.” Captain Brenton, surprised at so novel a mode of making a bargain, said laughing, “You are an honester fellow than I took you for; give me the money, and take the watch.” The stranger’s name was M. Dubois, a merchant of L’Orient. He came back in a few minutes, saying, “Sir, I shall never forgive myself for having accepted a pledge from an officer suffering from the fortune of war. Take back the watch and give me your note of hand.” This being done with due acknowledgments on the part of Captain Brenton, M. Dubois again left him, and in a short time again returned with twenty-five louis more, saying, that he had been examining his purse, and found that he had that sum more than was necessary to carry him to L’Orient, and begging that he would accept of that also. He then deposited it on the table, destroying the former note of hand; and requesting that another might be made out to include both sums. Captain Brenton in his additional remarks on the subject of the watch, says, “Each time that M. Dubois, the kind merchant returned, he exclaimed, “Monsieur, ma conscience me pique,” striking his breast; and the last time exclaiming, “Ma conscience me pique encore.” I observed that it must be a most unreasonable conscience, not to be satisfied with what he had done; but he rejoined, “No, Sir, I ought not to have taken any security from you.” Captain Brenton adds, “I am happy to say that in the course of this war very many instances occurred of great benevolence shewn towards the British prisoners in France; and in those cases where they experienced harsh or cruel treatment, it almost always arose from military power having been obtained by men, whose only recommendation was their bravery, and who had no kind feelings to temper it; but these instances were rare.”