Some person among the American prisoners--a soldier it was said--commenced counterfeiting Spanish dollars. I am afraid most of us helped to circulate them. We thought it no harm to cheat the people of the canteens, for we knew they were doing all they could to cheat us. This was prison morality, in war-time, and I say nothing in its favour; though, for myself, I will own I felt more of the consciousness of wrong-doing in holding the shares in the gambling establishments, than in giving bad dollars for poor rum. The counterfeiting business was destroyed by one of the dollars happening to break, as some of the officers were pitching them; when, on examination, it turned out that most of the money in the prison was bad. It was said the people of the canteens had about four hundred of the dollars, when they came to overhaul their lockers. A good many found their way into Halifax. My trade lasted all winter--(that of 1813--14,) and by March I had gained the sum of eighty French crowns. Dollars I was afraid to hold on account of the base money. The ice now began to give way, and a few of us, who had been discussing the matter all winter, set about forming serious plans to escape. My confederates were a man of the name of Johnson, who had been taken in the Snapdragon privateer, and an Irishman of the name of Littlefield. Barnet, the Mozambique man, joined us also, making four in all. It was quite early in the month, when we made the attempt. Our windows were long, and had perpendicular bars of wrought iron to secure them, but no cross-bars. There was no glass; but outside shutters, that we could open at our pleasure. Outside of the windows were sentinels, and there were two rows of pickets between us and the shore. I put my crowns in a belt around my waist. Another belt, or skin, was filled with rum, for the double purpose of buoying me in the water, and of comforting me when ashore. At that day, I found rum one of the great blessings of life; now I look upon it as one of the greatest evils. My companions made similar provisions of money and rum, though neither was as rich as myself. I left Mallet and Leonard Lewis my heirs at law if I escaped, and my trustees should I be caught. Lewis was a young man of better origin than most in the prison, and I have always thought some calamity drove him to the seas. He was in ill health, and did not appear to be destined to a long life. He would have joined us, heart and hand, but was not strong enough to endure the fatigue which we well knew we must undergo, before we could get clear.