The vessel proved to be an enemy’s small coaster, called a “trabaculo,” the rig of which is merely two large lug-sails, with a boom at the foot of them, with a jib, and sometimes a stay-sail and top-sail, to be set flying when going before the wind. She was in ballast, from Chiozza, bound to Ancona for a cargo. On searching the prisoners for letters and papers, we found concealed in their waistbands and linings of their clothes seven hundred and sixty-eight gold Venetian zechins, besides some dollars, which we took the liberty of extracting. They belonged to a rich Venetian merchant, and he had sent the money on board, under the charge of the master of the vessel, to purchase her cargo. On our chasing him, seeing no means of escape, he distributed the money amongst the men to sew in their dresses. When we first captured him, finding the vessel without anything in her, Captain Parker was on the eve of letting her go, when the prying eyes of a young mid made the discovery of the concealed money, which we took from them, and then allowed the vessel, with her crew, to return to her own port, she not being worth the trouble of sending to Malta. Some prizes in a gale of wind having been driven on shore near Pesaro, on the coast of Italy, a flag of truce came off to offer an exchange of prisoners, to which we gladly acceded. I was sent thither, with two boats, to bring back our seamen and petty officers. The French, seeing us coming, got the men down on the pier, to have them ready. Several officers of that nation, who were standing there, came bowing and scraping to the stairs of the landing-place, making a great number of fine speeches, and offering me refreshments of all kinds, if I would do them the honour to walk up into the town, which I gladly accepted, hoping to rest my boats’ crews and stretch my legs for half-an-hour on shore, after blockading their ports for six months. Just when I was stepping out of the boat I observed they held a consultation. Afterwards one of the officers came up to me, and said that he was very sorry, but orders had just arrived for them on no account to suffer me to come out of my boat. Now this was utterly false, no one having come near them, for I kept my eye upon them the whole time. “It was very unfortunate--they were quite in despair about it,” holding up their hands, shrugging up their shoulders, and making wry faces all the time; “they wished so much to show me civility--refreshments were already laid out at their lodgings--but what could they do?--they were so sorry--but orders must be obeyed.” So, taking off their cocked hats, they wished me adieu. I returned the salute, thanked them for the trouble they had taken in getting a repast ready for me, which the authorities would not permit me to enjoy; then off we shoved the boats, and, after a long pull, got back to the ship with our exchanged shipmates, much amused with the French offer of refreshments, which it was never intended I should partake of.