In due time he was despatched to Cadiz to join the convict gangs sentenced to enforced labour at Ceuta.  The whole garrison of Seville was kept under arms on the morning of his departure, to suppress any popular commotion, and resist any possible attempt at rescue.  On his arrival at Cadiz he was conducted to Fort la Caragna, and handed over to the commandant, a sturdy Frenchman named Devau, who was told that he must treat the prisoner politely, but would be held answerable for his safe-keeping.  Devau read these orders, and replied, “When I am made responsible for the safe custody of anybody, I know but one way of treating him, and that is to put him in irons.”  So the pseudo prince was ironed, until the convoy was ready to escort the prisoners to Ceuta.  On the voyage the pretender was treated differently from the other galley-slaves, and on reaching his destination was placed under little restraint.  He had full liberty to write to his friends, and availed himself of this permission to send a letter to Nadau, who had been ordered home to France to give an account of his conduct.  In this document he mentioned the courtesy with which he was treated, and begged the Port Maria governor to accept a handsome pair of pistols which he sent as a souvenir.  To Lievin, the Duc de Penthievre’s agent, he also wrote, lamenting the losses which he had sustained, and promising to make them good at a future time.  His prison, however, had not sufficient charms to retain his presence.  He took the first opportunity of escaping, and having smuggled himself on board an English ship, arrived in the Bay of Gibraltar.  The captain informed the governor of the fort that he had on board his ship the person who claimed to be the Prince of Modena, and that he demanded permission to land.  A threat of immediate apprehension was sufficient to deter the refugee from again tempting the Spanish authorities:  he remained on board; and the ship sailed on her voyage, carrying with her the prince, who was seen no more.

JOSEPH—­THE FALSE COUNT SOLAR.

On the 1st of August 1773, a horseman, who was approaching the town of Peronne in France, discovered by the wayside a boy, apparently about eleven years of age, clad in rags, evidently suffering from want, and uttering piercing cries.  Stirred with pity for this unfortunate object, the traveller dismounted, and, finding his efforts to comfort his new acquaintance, or to discover the cause of his sorrow, unavailing, persuaded him to accompany him to the town, where his immediate necessities were attended to.  The boy ate ravenously of the food which was set before him, but continued to preserve the strictest silence, and, at length, it was discovered that he was deaf and dumb.  A charitable woman, moved by his misfortunes, gave him a temporary home, and at the end of a few weeks he was transferred to the Bicetre—­then an hospital for foundlings—­through the intervention