No answer was returned to this letter; the cause probably was, that it was referred to the Bureau of the Minister of war, who was charged with the control of the prisoners, for from the invariable kindness of Mons. Decrês, the Minister of Marine, there can be but little doubt of his readiness to attend to so just a complaint. In the course of a few weeks, however, an indulgence was granted to the officers of rank to sign only every fifth day, and the same privilege was extended to the principal of the detenus. It is proper to mention here a fact, which occurred at this period of Captain Brenton’s confinement, which is not only interesting in itself, but which eventually may have led to some important consequences to him and his associates in captivity. He was visiting at the house of a French gentleman in Verdun, and was struck by a large picture hanging up in the room, in which a person strikingly resembling the master of the house was painted, in the act of giving charity to a ragged little boy; and on enquiring what the picture was intended to represent, he received the following affecting little narrative from M. Godard, the gentleman himself. “During the reign of terror,” he stated that “both Madame Godard and himself were arrested, and confined in prison, in the hourly expectation of being sent to the guillotine; while their family, consisting of six young children, were left totally unprotected. After some days passed under the most dreadful anxiety, Robespierre having been put to death, the prisoners were released, and flying to their home found all their children but one; and after the most indefatigable search, they could obtain no information respecting him. It was supposed that he must have perished in some of the conflicts which were of daily occurrence in Paris; and he was accordingly given up and mourned over as dead. Three or four years afterwards M. Godard, having business in Holland, went to Rotterdam, and was accosted in the streets by a boy in rags, begging. The child’s accent was evidently French, and attracted M. Godard’s notice. On asking his country, he said that it was France, and that his name was Romain. And what besides, asked the gentleman with great agitation? The boy replied, Romain Godard. In fact it was the missing child. The father’s joy may be easily conceived. He found that the child expecting to be put to death at Paris, had contrived to join a party going to Holland, where he had long subsisted upon charity. He was of course soon returned to the bosom of his family, and received as one from the dead by his afflicted mother.”