Another ruffian seized one of his little girls, a pretty child of nine years old, and scratched her arm several times with his dagger, calling out flous (money) at each stroke.  At the water-port, Mr. Robertson joined his fainting wife, and the British Consul and his wife, with Mr. Lucas and Mr. Allnut.  An old Moor never deserted the Consul’s family, “faithful among the faithless;” and a Jewess, much attached to the family, abandoned them only to return to those allied to her by the ties of blood.

Their situation was now still perilous, for, should they be discovered by the wild Berbers, they all might be murdered.  This night, the 15th, was a most anxious one, and their apprehensions were dreadful.  Dawn of day was fast approaching, and every hour’s delay rendered their condition more precarious.  In this emergency, Mr. Lucas, who never once failed or lost his accustomed suavity and presence of mind amidst these imminent dangers, resolved upon communicating with the fleet by a most hazardous experiment.  On his way from the town-gate to the water-port, he noticed some deal planks near the beach.  The idea struck him of turning these into a raft, which, supporting him, could enable their party to communicate with the squadron.  Mr. Lucas fetched the planks, and resolutely set to work.  Taking three of them, and luckily finding a quantity of strong grass cordage, he arranged them in the water, and with some cross-pieces, bound the whole together; and, besides, having found two small pieces of board to serve him as paddles, he gallantly launched forth alone, and, in about an hour, effected his object, for he excited the attention of the French brig, ‘Canard,’ from which a boat came and took him on board.

The officers, being assured there were no Moors on guard at the batteries, and that the Berbers were wholly occupied in plundering the city, promptly and generously sent off a boat with Mr. Lucas to the rescue of the alarmed and trembling fugitives.  The Prince de Joinville afterwards ordered them to be conveyed on board the ‘Warspite.’  The self-devotedness, sagacity, and indefatigable exertions of the excellent young man, Mr. Lucas, were above all encomiums, and, at the hands of the British Government, he deserved some especial mark of favour.

Poor Mrs. Levy (an English Jewess, married to a Maroquine Jew), and her family were left behind, and accompanied the rest of the miserable Jews and natives, to be maltreated, stripped naked, and, perhaps, murdered, like many poor Jews.  Mr. Amrem Elmelek, the greatest native merchant and a Jew, died from fright.  Carlos Bolelli, a Roman, perished during the sack of the city.

Mogador was left a heap of ruins, scarcely one house standing entire, and all tenantless.  In the fine elegiac bulletin of the bombarding Prince, “Alas! for thee, Mogador! thy walls are riddled with bullets, and thy mosques of prayer blackened with fire!” (or something like these words.)