"Having with him a few Frenchmen, two Portuguese, and sixteen English soldiers, he called these together, and, with his confessor, entered his chapel that he might prepare for the death which appeared to await him; whence passing into his wife's chamber, he bade her farewell, saying that the king was a prisoner, and that he would die at his feet. He then went out to go direct to the palace, flattering himself that with the small number of Europeans who followed him, he should be able to make his way through the Indians, who endeavored to arrest him, so as to reach the king. He would have succeeded had his followers been as determined as himself; but on entering the first court of the palace, he was suddenly surrounded by a troop of Siamese soldiers. He was putting himself into a defensive attitude when he perceived that he was abandoned by all his suite except the French, so that the contest was too unequal to be long maintained. He was obliged to yield to the force of numbers, and he and the Frenchmen with him were made prisoners and loaded with irons." It remained for the usurper to rid himself of the French soldiers, who were still in possession of the two most considerable places in the country. Under a false pretext he won over to himself, temporarily, the commander of the French forces. "Upon this, six French officers who were at court, finding their safety endangered, resolved to leave and retire to Bangkok. They armed themselves, mounted on horseback, and under pretence of a ride, easily escaped from the guard Pitraxa had appointed to accompany them. It is true that, for the one they had got rid of, they found between Louvô and the river troops at different intervals, which, however, they easily passed. On reaching the river they discovered a boat filled with talapoins, which they seized, driving away its occupants. As, however, they did not take the precaution of tying down the rowers, they had the vexation of having them escape under cover of the night, each swimming away from his own side of the boat. Compelled to row it themselves, they soon became so weary that they determined to land, and continue their journey on foot. This was not without its difficulties, as the people, warned by the talapoins whose boat had been seized, and by the fugitive rowers, assembled in troops upon the river-side, uttering loud cries. Notwithstanding this, they leaped out, and gained the plains of Ayuthia, where, most unfortunately, they lost their way. The populace still followed them, and though not venturing to approach very near, never lost sight of them and continued to annoy them as much as possible. They might, after all, have escaped, had not hunger compelled them to enter into a parley for a supply of provisions. In answer, they were told that they would not be listened to until they had laid down their arms. Then these cowardly wretches, instead of furnishing them with provisions, threw themselves upon them,