Though my attention was called so strongly to Bourdeaux, or la Teste d'Arcasson, as the parts of the coast from whence Buonaparte would probably attempt to escape, it was my decided opinion that Rochefort was much more likely to be the port where the trial would be made. I therefore sent the Myrmidon off Bourdeaux, the Cephalus to Arcasson, and remained with only the Bellerophon, off Rochefort. From this period, until my return to England, the ship was never, by day or night, more than three miles from the land. Considering it of much importance to communicate the intelligence contained in the letter from Bourdeaux, to my commanding officer, with as little delay as possible; as I had no vessel left with me, after detaching the two ships under my orders, I sent the Bellerophon's barge, under the charge of a lieutenant, with directions to endeavour to join some one of the cruisers stationed off Isle Dieu. I gave him an order, addressed to the Captain of any of His Majesty's ships he might fall in with, to proceed without loss of time, to join the Admiral in Quiberon Bay, with the despatch accompanying it. This boat was fortunate enough to fall in with His Majesty's ship Cyrus, Captain Carrol; who, in consequence, after hoisting in the barge, proceeded to Quiberon Bay. As the coasting-vessels were not worth sending into port for condemnation, (and considering the circumstances under which the ship I commanded was placed, I should not have felt justified in weakening her complement, even for a prize of value,) I was in the habit of using such captures, as marks for the men to practice firing at. The Cephalus had a chasse-maree in tow for that purpose, when the letter, inserted above, was received; and I detached her so shortly afterwards, that Captain Furneaux had no opportunity of destroying her, but was obliged to cast her off. After he had left me some time, I observed the vessel drifting to sea, and determined to run down and sink her. While approaching her in this view. I was sweeping the horizon with my glass, when I discovered, at a considerable distance, a small white speck on the water, which had the appearance of a child's boat with paper sails; but I could plainly perceive something that had motion in it; and, after firing on and destroying the chasse-maree, I stood towards the object which had engaged my attention, and found it to be a small punt, about eight feet long, flat-bottomed, and shaped more like a butcher's tray than a boat. In it were a young man about eighteen years of age, and a boy about twelve, who had got into the punt to amuse themselves, and, happening to lose one of their oars, were drifted to sea. They had been thirty-six hours without refreshment of any kind, and with only one oar and a bit of board, which they had formed into something like another; they were quite exhausted with fatigue, and their hands very much blistered. When we picked them up, there was a strong breeze