Now to return to Dartmoor. At a time when the prisoners had despaired of any relief, and began to reconcile themselves to their hard fate, they were very agreeably surprised to hear that Mr. Reuben G. Beasley had condescended to visit them, and then waited at the gate for admittance. The idea, that their deliverer had come, diffused a general joy through the whole prison, and “lighted up a smile in the aspect of woe.” The soldiers and guards were ordered into the prison, and turned out every man, both sick and well; overhauled the hammocks, swept the prison, and opened the window-shutters: all filth was removed and every thing made clean, for the first time since our arrival. The guards were then stationed at the door, to prevent any prisoner from going in, to have any communication with the agent: we were told, that no man could speak to him, or have any communication with him whatever. At three o’clock, the entrance of Mr. Beasley was announced by the turnkeys. We arranged ourselves in the yard, in anxious expectation of the glad tidings he might bring. He appeared, attended with his clerks, the clerks of the prison, and a very numerous train of soldiers. As he entered the yard of the prison, we presented a frightful appearance, in our yellow uniform, wooden shod, and meager, lantern-jaws. He felt the sight, and seemed much surprised at the group. We stood in silent expectation; he moved along to the prison; but how were our feelings damped at this moment! when we expected from him the language of consolation and relief, he only uttered, in a careless tone to his clerks, “that he did not think that the number had been so great!”